The Town Fair: A Reel

It's a little late in the year for Fair season, but here's one about a fair anyway. This is for Jess.

"The Town Fair"

The kids were excited,
the grown-up ones, too!
And why were they happy?
I'll give you a clue:

The Ferris Wheel turning
and the smell of the food --
the Town Fair was coming
to the glade near the wood!

And what a commotion!
and oh! what a sight!
of everyone running
to make everything right --

"A new coat of paint to
every wall in the town!
Viridian! Ruby!
Mahogany Brown!"

And they lassoed the horses,
and they bathed all the pigs,
they canned up tomatoes
and pickles and figs,

And the girls all wore ribbons,
and the boys, they did stare,
and that's how it went
every night at the fair.

Soon dawn approached them
and sent them to bed
with root beer and funnel cake
gone to their heads,

it left them a promise:
that if they were good,
then soon they'd return
to the glade near the wood,

and ride on the Zipper
and get lost in the maze,
to wander the Town Fair
the rest of their days.

The End

Little Boy Blog No. 2

Dear Diary,

I’m not really sure I can call you a diary since I’m writin’ this on the inside of a cut open carton of cigarettes. But it was all I could find! Paw-paw’s been mad at paper ever since the old pulp mill shut down, so he don’t never let me have notebooks or colorin’ books or even construction paper. So I draw in the sandbox out back with a stick a lot. You gotta be careful out there – the barn cats think that its THEIR sandbox!

Yesterday, I fell out of the tire swing. Again! Maw maw was so mad when I showed up for supper because my blue jeans had a big ol’ rip in ‘em. I told her she could just patch ‘em up again ‘cause I like wearin’ patches, but she slapped me upside the head and said I was makin’ more work for her all the time. I ast her if I could learn to sew them up myself but Paw paw told me to shut my face, that was a woman’s job. I think it would be pretty handy to know how to sew, especially when you tear things!

I saw Georgianne Smith today when I was walkin’ home from school! I don’t think she saw me, ‘cause I had climbed up an old hickry tree and I was sittin’ there waitin’ for her like I do every day. Her daddy bought her a new backpack, it’s pink and green and has kitty cats on it! I think if she knew I sat up in this tree everyday to make sure she was walkin’ home safe, she’d be my girlfriend! Georgianne’s mama and my mama went to school together, but Georgianne says my mama came from the wrong side of the tracks. That don’t make no sense to me, ‘cause we don’t even GOT any train tracks around here, unless you count that old trestle where Jimmy Barnes drownded a few years back. Besides, her daddy don’t drive trains anyway – he sells insurance.

But there’s lots of stuff people say that I don’t understand. Like when I ask maw maw who my daddy is and she just says I’ll find out if the Good Lord is willin’ and the creek don’t rise. Or when she tries to get me to put on my Sunday go to meetin’ clothes and she says there ain’t enough spit in the world to shine some pennies. She rolls her eyes a lot, like she’s havin’ a fit. Paw paw says that’s just womenfolks.

Well that’s about it for today, diary, seein’ as how I done filled up the whole white part and I don’t feel like tryin’ to cover up any of the writin’ on the other side. We’re gonna have bacon with our supper, can you believe it? Paw paw must have played good at his poker game last night, cos he was sleepin’ late and maw maw got grocery money out of his pocket. I’m not supposed to tell him, but maw maw says that he won’t remember he had any money anyway. That bacon shore gonna taste good!

Love,
Your buddy

Little Boy Blog No. 1

This mornin' I didn't wake up to my alarm clock, I woke up to Paw-paw shootin' at the dogs for gettin' at the chickens! He only uses bird shot at 'em, and sometimes he hits the chickens, too, so you gotta cut your chicken up real good when Maw-maw makes dumplins. Otherwise you could break your tooth like I did that one time! Paw-paw filed it down with the saw sharpener though and poured a little turpentine on it and I was fine.

I don't reckon I'm gonna go to school today 'cause I hafta go get my shoes out of the mud at the edge of the creek. See, I was playin' down there yesterday, and I got stuck! I couldn't move for at least a coupla hours. I hollered and hollered, but nobody heard me until Paw-paw came down to pour out the old motor oil from the tractor. When he saw me up to my knees in old mud, he was mad! Maw-maw was yellin, too! That was my only pair of shoes so Paw-paw's makin' me go down there today with a shovel and dig 'em out. I hope there's frogs in 'em!

I don't know what we're gonna have for breakfast this mornin' cause Maw-maw found bugs in the flour yesterday. She was mixin' up some biscuits and they was crawlin' all around! I thought they was funny, but Maw-maw just told me to shut my goddam mouth when I laughed. But I was laughin' anyway! She chased me around the kitchen with one of Paw-paw's belts, but I ran outside and hid under the bushes. I stayed gone till supper.

I checked the mailbox to see if I got a letter from mama, but I think she's still on solitary lockdown. Maw maw says that means she can't talk to anybody, like when I'm bad and Paw-paw puts me in the corn crib. I tried telling her about the stories I tell myself to pass the time in there but I think she just wants some whisky. And a guard named Joe. She says she's special nice to him 'cause he brings her cigarettes.

I'm not sure what I'm gonna do today. After I get my shoes, maybe I'll chop that firewood that's stacked outside the house. That would make Paw paw happy! Sometimes when he's happy, he'll give me half the moon pie he takes for his lunch. It tastes like beer! And one time he let me chew on his tobacco, but I got sick! He was laughin' at me, and I reckon I did look pretty funny layin' on the ground holdin' my stomach.

Well, that's all I got to say right now about it, because Maw-maw's yellin' at me about them shoes. Maybe later, if I can, I'll tell you how it went! I hope there's cornbread with supper today, I'm tired of just having buttermilk and grits. Maybe when I get my shoes back, I can go kill us some rabbits! Then we'd be eatin' good! See you next time!

Taxing My Smokes for the Kiddies

Okay, so my liberal friends are all pissed off that Bush vetoed SCHIP, whining about how a bunch of kids won't get insured now. Well, yeah, that sucks. But what also sucks is the way that this program was going to be paid for -- a huge tax increase on something I love dearly: cigarettes.

Oh, I can hear all you vegans, organic food growers, and PETA members now: Michael, cigarettes are BAAAAAD for you. Well no shit. I'm aware. I also think that they are a wonderful way to pass the time, and I'm sick of being singled out for beatings from my liberal bretheren. And if you go to the MoveOn.org rally with a Frappuccino in hand, piss off, those things are full of fat and calories and are also...bad for you. So you wanna pay another buck to the government every time you get your caffeine fix? I take my coffee black, motherfuckers, no fat, no cals -- it's healthier that way.

When taxes start going onto potato chips, Snickers bars, all-you-can-eat buffets and soda (and yes, these things are taxed, but not like cigs), then maybe I'll be OK paying more for my cigarettes. Until then, piss off, you holier-than-thou assholes and find a more equitable way to pay for this program. Like maybe a tax on every time Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi rolls over to show their soft fuzzy underbellies to the GOP on Iraq.

Cheers.

Kill Your Buddylist

Oh, to friend or not to friend, isn’t that the question? Or rather, when do you kick somebody to the curb after they’ve spent some time moldering in on the friends list, unspoken-to, unnoticed, unloved, and really – let’s be honest here – unnecessary. Still got that ex-boyfriend or girlfriend you’d rather die than talk to stuck on your buddy list? Kick ‘em off. Got fifty people from high school on your list you didn’t even like back then? Delete! Popularity isn’t based on how many friends you have – it’s based on how many friends you have that you actually talk to. So if you met that person at a party and let them feel you up and then added them, then sobered up and felt like a whore – time to do a little house cleaning. Flirted with the girl at the movie theater and added her only to realize she doesn’t want to talk to you and was just being nice? Do yourself a favor – delete her.

Slate.com had an article about how and when to “de-friend” somebody. To me, it sounded kind of pussy, but some of you might find it sage advice. The best policy for managing your friends list is to do one of three things – add everybody who adds you (not counting porn bots), be picky about who you add but never delete anyone, or do what I do and conduct random MySpace/Facebook Kristallnacht purges of your friends. Yeah, it keeps me under 50 friends (and I even have Britney Spears added), but you know something – I only talk to about 10 of the people on my friends list anyway, even AFTER the purges. And probably only 2 or 3 of THOSE people on a regular basis.

Chances are, you aren’t as antisocial as I am, and there may be dozens of people you converse with on MySpace or Facebook. But you know you have people on your “friends” list who are anything but friends – they’re people you wouldn’t walk across the street to piss on if they were on fire. They’re people who are “friends of friends” and you just added to be nice because you hung out and got stoned with them that one time.

But do yourself a favor. You’ve built this social network, now give yourself the pleasure of chipping away at it, chopping away at it – you’ll feel like God. You’ll have the power of life and death and it will taste sweeter than anything in the world. And the main beauty of doing it is that you’ll be surprised how many people will notice you deleted them and get all indignant about it – even though they haven’t thought about you twice since you added them. Or maybe, if you’re like me, they won’t even notice.

Cheers!

Let's See, Does Anybody Still Read Me?

I doubt it. I haven't posted since last December, having lost internet access, the will to write, and a wife.

But I'm back now, and hope to jumpstart the Brouhaha back into action.

In the meantime, check out my new project with the love of my life, Four Peas, a photoblog!

Cheers!

Cutting and Running in the War on Christmas

After becoming a staple last year of the FOX News Channel's attempt to distract America from the massive failures of George Bush specifially and conservative thought in general, the "War on Christmas" seems fated to become a regular addition to the holiday season -- just like "Frosty the Snowman" and "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer." The idea that Christmas has become too "secular" or "materialistic" is nothing new, but the "War on Christmas" guys took a different approach: the materialism of Christmas didn't seem so bad to these guys; rather, it was the fact that the word "Christmas" had fallen out of use in those Cathedrals of Capitalism, the shopping malls and department stores.

If you say "Seasons Greetings," the terrorists (the ones at the ACLU) win. Indeed, the War on Christmas seemed to Bill O'Reilly to be the basis upon all other wars were based. If conservatives lost this war, O'Reilly reasoned, then the logical result would be "[the] legalization of narcotics, euthanasia, abortion at will, [and] gay marriage." He forgot to mention that every time you say "Happy Holidays," God kills a kitten.

Of course, being good little capitalists, O'Reilly and John Gibson (who actually stuck his name on a book about the "War on Christmas"), shouldn't have had a problem with "Happy Holidays." After all, by including ALL the holidays into one greeting, vendors open themselves up to a much wider variety of consumers. Why limit yourself to people who celebrate Christmas? Throw in New Year's, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Arbor Day, and any other excuse to get those credit cards out of wallets. But nobody ever accused a conservative pundit of having common sense.

But I'm here to tell you all this: I'm cutting and running in the War on Christmas. I'm through scowling at manger scenes and giving copies of "The Communist Manifesto" to mall Santas (his suit IS red, after all). No more will I promote the decline and fall of Western Civilization through non-denominational, religion-neutral greeting cards. I'm through attending "Winter Festivals" and "Holiday Parties."

As a matter of fact, I'm through with Christmas all together. You guys can have it.

Because what is Christmas, anyway? I mean, let's cut the crap about Jesus and Mary and Joseph -- that dog won't hunt. Christmas is about a) trying to buy your kids' love, b) trying to pretend you like your family, c) trying to get drunk enough to like being at a party with women you'll never have sex with, d) trying to buy your kids' love, and e) using a holiday as an excuse to eat fattening crap (like you don't already eat McDonald's twice a week anyway). Cynical? Perhaps. But if Johnny doesn't get an Xbox this year, be on the lookout for child services.

So I'm not doing it this year. I'm the Switzerland of Christmas. I'm through listening to the whining and puling of the politically correct crowd; I'm finished with the grumbling and grousing of the Bible thumpers. When I eat cookies this year, they won't be festive cookies; they'll be Chips Ahoy. "The Little Drummer Boy" is as dead to me now as Madelyn Murray O'Hare. I won't use "Merry Christmas" this year; neither will I say "Happy Holidays." Instead, if I have to say anything at all, I'll just say "I hope you're happy," and leave it at that.

Cheers.

A Manga Primer

I'm a huge fan of manga, and I've always got several series that I read all at once. I find manga to be superior to American comic books because there is a far wider range of subjects, a greater freedom for material that would be "inappropriate" in US comics, and the artwork is generally fantastic. And girls in manga are generally very cute.

In any case, here's a few suggestions for you if you'd like to spend some time getting to know manga. Note that all these here read the opposite from American comics in keeping with the way they were published in Japan. That means the front is what would be the back of an American book, and that you have to read a different order in the panels (generally counter-clockwise from the upper right). It takes some getting used to but sounds worse than it is.


"XXX-HOLiC" is a wonderful story by CLAMP, one of Japan's most famous manga teams. CLAMP has been responsible for extremely popular manga series like "Chobits" and "Cardcaptor Sakura," and "XXX-HOLiC" might be better than either of those. Kimihiro Watanuki is a boy who can see spirits and he attempts to get cured of this curse by visiting Yuko, the beautiful space-time witch. Yuko is both intimidating and hilarious (as well as a bit of a drunk), and Watanuki is a wonderful, naive boy who only wants to do the right thing (and win the heart of his love, Himawari-chan). Although "XXX-HOLiC" crosses over with the CLAMP series "Tsubasa," is isn't necessary to read "Tsubasa" to follow the story.


"Tsukuyomi: Moon Phase," by Keitaro Arima, is the tale of Hazuki, a vampire of about fourteen who is imprisoned in a German castle. Along comes Kouhei, a photographer, who rescues her and finds himself unable to get rid of the temperamental bloodsucker. "Moon Phase" is by turns a good horror comic and a good comedy, and the interactions between Kouhei and Hazuki are priceless, as is the character of Kouhei's grandfather.


"Fruits Basket" by Natsuki Takaya is a fun story about a girl named Tohru Honda who finds herself homeless and living in a tent. Enter the mysterious Sohma family, who take her in. Tohru is shocked to discover that the Sohma family is cursed, and that when hugged by a member of the opposite sex, they turn into animals from the Chinese zodiac. "Fruits Basket" is a charming story, and although on the surface it is a simple teenage romance story, there's enough of a dark substory involved to keep adult readers involved, too. This might be my favorite overall manga series.


For those of you who aren't in the mood to start a series, "Beautiful People" by Mitsukazu Mihara is a good manga for you. Each chapter is a short story, and there are some good ones. Read about the only survivors of a plague -- a lesbian Eve and a gay Adam who can't repopulate the species because they repulse each other. Or read about a vampire who adopts a small girl. Other stories, equally as original, make up this stand-alone, and I highly enjoyed it.

There are thousands of manga titles out there; these few are just some I've enjoyed lately. They're all pretty popular titles, so you should be able to find them at your local bookstore.

Happy reading!

More Fun Stuff From the 50s

50s Anti-Commie Propaganda Film from Christofascist School in Arkansas



This is a fun anti-communist film from Harding University, a Church of Christ school in Searcy, Arkansas, just a few miles up the road and about 500 years in the past. There are few Christian denominations scarier than the CoC -- I'll always remember with bemused fondness the crazy CoC bitch Mrs. Myrrander used to hang out with.

Anyway, Harding's propaganda films are a lot of fun to watch, if you don't mind the Jesus brainwashing in them. The folks in Searcy figure that democracy means "worshipping God any way you want," which isn't quite the same thing as "freedom of religion."

Even more curious, the chap who is pimping the "ism" is clearly a seller of a product, which makes him...a capitalist, right? Amusing.

Still, it's good to watch these old videos, because they can help you see the propaganda the government feeds us today.

Cheers!

Something Fun from the 50s

Duck and Cover


Here's something fun for you kids today! Duck and cover, bitches!

Neil Gaiman at the University of Central Arkansas

Neil Gaiman, author of the hit comic series Sandman, the award-winning novel American Gods (as well as others), and general all-around creative badass gave a reading/talk/book signing at the University of Central Arkansas in Conway on November 14. The wife and I were there, and it was a lot of fun. This was Neil's first time in Arkansas, but we all certainly hope that it won't be his last.

I first came across Neil's work in the early 90s when a friend handed me an issue of Sandman. It was the typical Gaiman story -- I told the guy "I don't read comics," he told me to "read this one anyway," and I fell in love with the series. Novels such as Neverwhere, American Gods, Anansi Boys, and the short story collection Smoke and Mirrors cemented my admiration for his work.

Neil opened with a poem, "The Day the Saucers Came," from his new collection Fragile Things. He then gave a talk on the nature of story and mythology, along with some amusing anecdotes. The closer was an unpublished story called "Orange," which had the audience laughing out loud. All in all, Neil was one of the warmest, most open writers I've ever had the privelege to hear speak, and he stayed late into the night graciously signing books for hundreds of fans.

Amy got the best autograph out of the three we wound up with, which is the picture I've opened the article with. Neil drew her a picture of Dream, from the Sandman series, and signed just to the left. He even chatted with us for a moment about his new short story collection for kids when Amy mentioned she taught a wide range of ages. Despite having signed so many books already, he still drew her this wonderful picture, and he was never cross or seemed bored -- although it must be easy to get that way in such an event.

All in all, it was a spectacular night, and I hope to have another chance to hear Neil speak. If you haven't read him, go out and pick up something with his name on it -- there's a wide variety of subjects he's written about. He's perhaps the greatest writer alive today, and after nearly 15 years of reading him, it was an honor to get to see him in person.

Cheers.