Welcome to Paradoxia, Leave Your Valentines at the Door

I saw a Whitman’s Sampler heart discarded on the asphalt this weekend. Obviously someone’s pre-valentine’s binging has gotten out of hand. Is it any wonder? No holiday short of New Year’s has more pressure and expectation dripping off its hungry jowls than the beast that is Valentine’s Day.

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The Infernal Humanity Tank

Once again the blog LitStack: For the love of all things wordy has provided me with some inspiration. However, I must confess I broke the rules this time. My flash fiction challenge is double the length it’s supposed to be. What can I say? The story just kept escalating and I didn’t have the heart to stop it. As for how this dark subject matter appeared. I can only assume the photo prompt combined with several days of jury duty intensified my usual madness. Behold what the American justice system has wrought.

THE INFERNAL HUMANITY TANK

Not a drop of oil remained. Beneath the city hunger and dissatisfaction throbbed. The Patriarchs had no use for a blissful society.

Workers plastered a new sign across the walls of the courthouse. Killer bees have been sighted in this area. You may die soon, it read.

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How To Win Friends And Influence People

New Year’s greetings, friends. I haven’t posted any fiction in a while. My twitter pal @ChrisGNguyen sent me a link to a flash fiction challenge using a photo prompt. (You know how much I love those photo prompts.) I must admit I wasn’t feeling inspired by this one, but then of course some weird bit of silliness began to take shape in my warped brain. So the photo below is courtesy of the blog Litstack; for the love of all things wordy. If you’d like to write your own piece, publish it to your blog and leave the link in the comments over at LitStack’s flash fiction challenge. Enjoy.

How To Win Friends And Influence People

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Open one of them old timey costume places so families could come in and play dress up. With authentic get-ups like cowboys, flappers, snake-handlers, gangsters, and his personal favorite, French maids, it was bound to be a big hit. But then some Buddhist fella decided to build a monastery down the road. Turns out the kinda tourists that go visit monks aren’t all that interested in flashback photos. Continue reading

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Where Is My Popeil Latke Maker?

A Xmas pub crawl seems to have taken over my neighborhood. Hipsters wearing Santa Suits and elf costumes are collecting on street corners. First they fall down drunk then shout to their Mrs Claus counterparts about what bar to hit next. At what point did the youthful scourge of Saint Patrick’s day festivities infiltrate Xmas? What happened to tree trimmings, figgy pudding, peace on earth, good will towards Jews without someplace to go on Xmas eve? Speaking of which, it seems to me an equal opportunity pub crawl would be more fitting for a city that’s hosted the 99% protesters lo these many months. Why not a marauding pack of Maccabees on a tear looking for an oil lamp to fill? Continue reading

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It’s No Zombie Apocalypse, But I Have Some Concerns…

Don’t get me wrong I’m a big fan of technology from way back. Electricity is extremely handy. Owning a phone does cut back on all that shouting out of windows. I might even get call waiting one of these days. And hey, who doesn’t like a clock radio? But there are one or two issues I’d like to address.

It’s about the books. Or the end of them, I mean. It seems inevitable, does it not? One day we will e-book ourselves into oblivion and then bam, no more pages filled with type, no well-worn leather bound tombs, no dewey decimal system. In the blink of an eye, poof, it’s all gone. Continue reading

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A Clue To The Eternal Paradox Is Revealed

The time has come the walrus said to talk of my now-infamous Alice In Wonderland Birthday party.  I was approximately seven years old when my mother started reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass to me at night before bed. She and my sister devised a plan to create a Wonderland-themed party. But this was no head-over-to-ye-local-party-store kind of venture. Not for my family. Instead, they wrote an abridged version of the story suitable for seven year olds to read aloud, and created costumes using household items, oak tag and stage makeup. (Yes, I do come from a theatrical family; think the Barrymore’s only replace the excessive alcohol with bagels.) Continue reading

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Try Antifreeze For That Youthful Glow

Today is my birthday.

As many of my friends will tell you, I am ridiculously hard on myself. So I greet my birthdays with a rather punitive evaluation of where I’ve been, where I want to be, and all the ways in which I’m not there yet. This year is no different. As usual I am struggling to be satisfied, to be proud of what I’ve done, and not rail against my shortcomings.

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