Nearly 50 years ago, the Arizona administration requested my compliance in attending a one-afternoon desert orientation course. The university insisted on this because I was from the Northeast. A tenderfoot. Continue reading Cairns
Blind and Toothless
Had those students who established opposing enclaves on college campus in the aftermath of Hamas’ murder, rape, kidnapping spree of October 7th, 2023, somehow had it in their minds they would recreate and update the 1960s and 70s Days of Rage?
Having learned the lesson of history, did they do so having misunderstood it? Continue reading Blind and Toothless
This Deranged Freight Train Has no Brakes
If you’re like me, you too must’ve been astounded at events that occurred on the morning of October 7th, 2023.
Before authorities became censorious and excised, pixelated, or froze graphic videos, security camera raw feeds from Israel were the 21st century versions of what we may imagine warfare was like during the antique. No quarter given. Wanton slaughter delivered as cruelly as possible. Continue reading This Deranged Freight Train Has no Brakes
Stop Your Sobbing
Anyone who’s articulate, can hold his or hers debating knew right off the bat once American society succumbed to political correctness, going way overboard by making “trigger words” valid knew our nation would plunge into a semantic sump. Continue reading Stop Your Sobbing
It’s Their Fight
Notice a lot of Latinos for Trump are silent these days. Or maybe they’re hiding. If so, a damned smart move. Continue reading It’s Their Fight
Sunset on the Susceptible
What’s possibly the best word in the German language?
Schadenfreude.
Venomously translated it means “taking pleasure in another’s misfortune.”
And while there’s plenty of that available now, over the next three years there will be more. Much more. Continue reading Sunset on the Susceptible
Why Should We Fight?
For any Americans knowledgeable of our nation’s history, the first quarter of the 21st century begs again asking the same questions raised in 1917 and 1941: Why should black Americans (as well as other non-Anglos and women) bother serving in our nation’s armed forces? Why should we defend the United States? Continue reading Why Should We Fight?
Foundation
Visited Quarropas, New York, in early June. Hadn’t been back to my hometown since relocating to Las Vegas, Nevada, 12 years ago.
I figured now was the time because shortly every reason to return may be gone. I still have a few best buddies there. But this year they turn 65. I have no idea what their financial situations are and didn’t ask. However, I suspect each has one foot out the door for Florida.
No way I can express how terrific it was to see people who knew me as I was becoming who I am, and seeing those who I knew when they were on the way to becoming the adults they are. Seeing how we’ve transformed might’ve astounded us then. Ah, probably not.
I will not be seeing them in the Gator State. Continue reading Foundation
Del Submarino a las Películas
Stepping into the low degrees of a Selknam night had Lisa McKenzie-McKenzie and Matt Pfarrer bundling inside heavy coats PDQ. He yanked his watch cap from a coat pocket and rolled it down his ears. Like any magician pulling a rabbit out of her tophat, McKenzie Squared jerked a trapper hat from somewhere then set it deeply upon her head. Had the flaps been any longer both would’ve draped her chest.
When they exhaled or spoke, their breath condensed.
Seeing her headgear, Pfarrer asked, “Is that your Sergeant Preston of the Yukon hat? Can dogsleds be far away?”
McKenzie Squared made a face. The kind that showed what she thought of his weary jibe. Continue reading Del Submarino a las Películas
Saliendo el submarino
Upon reaching the driver’s scheduled break stop where passengers might stretch their legs as well as grab compressed bites to eat, that was while letting off those who’d reached their destination but before boarding any joining the journey, strange thoughts of oxidation and reduction struck Matt Pfarrer. He hadn’t needed to consider the processes since high school. He wondered why they arose on the way to Near the End of Argentina.
The motorcoach to Selknam had steadily emptied southward bound. Watching the transport’s rows open up after every arrival, he noticed replacement passengers never equaled the departures. Standing in the midst of one of those towns anywhere in the world that solely seem to exist, no, to serve as way stations for long-haul busses, modern-day stagecoaches really, Pfarrer asked himself did those boarding them ever balance or, better, exceed the departures.
He asked himself had there ever been a full bus whose terminus was Selknam. Continue reading Saliendo el submarino