Category Archives: Paffooney

A Conspiracy of Doody-Heads

Dumb Luck

I enjoy talking about, reading about, promoting, and debunking conspiracy theories of all sorts.  It reaches a point that any time the topic comes up… Elvis faking his own death, the Roswell crash, lizard-men from the center of the hollow Earth… you know, all that good stuff… my kids roll their eyes and attempt to change the subject before I can get on a roll.  Okay, I get that.  Other people like to see history as a static, unchangeable thing set in stone.  It makes them comfortable to believe the same things others believe about what is ultimately true.  It makes them uncomfortable to think about how what they know might not be grounded in fact, especially if it is not grounded in fact because someone they have always trusted intentionally misrepresented or altered the facts.

I have always laughed about Elvis being sighted eating chili in a Wendy’s somewhere in Michigan.  It is a joke that people are ever swayed by the spurious journalism of National Enquirer and such trashy fluff.  And yet, there are questions out there that haven’t been fully resolved.  People are right to wonder and demand investigation, even into silly things.  There are anomalies that real investigative journalists have uncovered surrounding Elvis’ apparent demise.  For instance, why does the autopsy DNA not match the tissue sample from the liver biopsy performed on Elvis in 1975?  Why does all the evidence put forward by researchers only indicate that his 1977 death was faked, and nothing debunkers uncover actually disproves that?  This controversy has entertainment value, and people will constantly make jokes about it and continue to clamor for more proof.  Myself, as a conspiracy aficionado,  I believe there is good reason to believe he did fake his death, and may still be alive.  However, I also think that if he was driven to such extremes that he had to fake his own death, we should give him the peace he seeks and leave him alone.  Jokes about Elvis’ love children with space aliens are much funnier when you don’t have to worry that Elvis will overhear and be offended.

Senator Tedhkruzh

Alien lizard men from the center of the Earth are another matter.  Have you never heard that the Queen of England, the Clintons, and other important world leaders are actually shape-shifting reptoid aliens intent on taking over planet Earth to feed on its human population?  If you haven’t, it is not because David Icke hasn’t been working hard to promote the idea and introduce it to you.  This former soccer player and broadcaster makes a mint on his conspiracy-theory lectures and programs.  He is very much the same kind of huckster and con man that once sold snake-oil cure-alls across this country.  I have found this particular conspiracy theory easy to debunk.  It does have entertainment value and makes for some very interesting humor.  But it also puts lot of money in the pockets of people who are intentionally misleading others into thinking this absurdist science fiction is somehow based on facts.  And it makes people distrust world leaders for all the wrong reasons.  We should vote Ted Cruz out of office for his despicable policies, not because he is a lizard man from the center of the Earth.

So, why do I associate myself at all with conspiracy theories?  Well, why do some comedians like Stephen Colbert whose politics are obviously liberal associate themselves with conservative politicians and focus so much on that side of the political debate?  It is a source of great humor, and it actually adds meaningfully to the over-all debate.  Conspiracies do exist.  We have been lied to about important things like the death of JFK, the events of 9-11, and possibly, the Roswell crash.  The truth matters to me.  It matters almost as much as the ability to make fun Elvis sightings and lizard people like Texas Senator Ted Cruz (pictured above in his natural form).

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Filed under conspiracy theory, humor, Paffooney, telling lies

My Dreams Have Wings

Wings of Imagination

My Dreams Have Wings (a poem)

Sometimes when I fall asleep,

I don’t drift down to slumber,

I grow great red wings,

And I take to the air,

To soar…

To escape…

To live…

Or simply fly away.

Adolphe-William Bouguereau Paintings 50 (1)

Adolphe William Bouguereau

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Filed under Paffooney, poetry

Stupid Is Lovable

Stupid Boy

One does not have to be smart in order to be lovable.   In fact, I think, based on my years as a teacher and reputed smart person, being smart is actually a handicap to being loved by others.  Some of the sweetest, most lovable students I ever met were the the special-education students who were mentally handicapped.   I worked with them at times as a substitute teacher in 2006 and 2007.  I also encountered them routinely doing hallway duty at Naaman Forest High School.  They always said hello.  They always smiled.  Though they rarely knew my name.  Some of them went out of their way to shake hands with me and ask me how my day was.  I discovered along the way that teachers who worked with them on a daily basis tended to be nicer, more welcoming and friendly than other teachers.  That simple enthusiasm and likability is obviously contagious.

I promise, doing the things that happy but somewhat stupid people do works when you have to deal with others on a daily basis.  I know because I tried it.  It took me several years to work past the foolish teacher-notion that you have be the boss and you have to be mean to get students to learn.  You start trying to iron out bad behaviors by calling them out and shouting them down, which only leads to threats that have to be carried out, students sitting in misery in the principal’s office, parents calling with concerns or trying to boss and bully you, and more trips to the store for antacids and headache pills.

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What actually works better is meeting the students at the door with a stupid grin on my face before class ever starts.  “Good morning,” I say.  “You are looking smarter than usual today.  You must be ready to learn the most important lessons anyone ever learned.”

“Are we doing something in class today?” they always say.

“Of course we are,” I answer with my stupid grin, “wonderful things!”

When the lessons start and the class clown puts wasted sticky-notes on his eyelids and ears and tongue, I don’t get mad and tell him to straighten up or else.  I tell him, “Something is different about the way you look today.  Did you try a new hair gel or something?”  When the others break up in giggles, I tell him, “Whatever it is, it makes you look good.  You should wear it that way for every lesson you do.”

Sometimes you have to stop a serious consideration of themes in the Kurt Vonnegut short story from the Literature Book to take a serious wiggle-break.  Students need to stand up and shake apart whatever stiff dead-parts they may have grown from sitting too long in one spot.  Most of them shake their behinds.  You know, the part they use for thinking most of the time.

You do these stupid things, and the students begin to love your class.  They begin to love what they are reading.  It is a simple, stupid thing… but so very necessary.

Of course you can’t cure all the dead-brains, jerks, and snarks this way.  Some will never buy in.  But it works with most.  Kids will behave well for you if you love the stupid parts they all have in them.  They will love you because you let them be stupid without serious consequences.

Now, I know there are many… some of them principals and teacher-evaluators who will be offended by me talking about kids being stupid.  Some will mistakenly think I am insulting them.  But I am not.  I often need to make a distinction between the kind of stupid I am talking about here and the angry, hurtful kind that I prefer to call ignorance.  That kind of stupid is the kind that makes Donald Trump, a person who actually knows better, call Mexican immigrants rapists.  It is a different thing to do something stupid because you are unintentionally wrong about something, or impaired somehow (like me when my blood sugar is low), or valuing silly over accurate.  Stupidity often can’t be helped.  but when you demonize Muslims because you want to make political points with people who are angry and fearful and honestly don’t know anything about Muslims they haven’t heard from ignorant people, then ignorance means ignoring what you probably know is true anyway to do something that intentionally chooses not to make use of whatever useful intelligence you have.

So forgive me for writing a stupid essay about stupid being lovable.  I can’t help it.  I am just stupid sometimes.

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Filed under humor, Paffooney, strange and wonderful ideas about life, teaching

The Joys of Texas Roadways

Yesterday I was in a car accident that I wasn’t even a participant in.  Wait, is that the right way to say it?  I was in a car wreck when I wasn’t in my car.  No, that doesn’t sound right either.  Driving skills in Texas were definitely on display yesterday as I lay ill in my bed and a passing Texas motorist unintentionally held a mini demolition derby with my car on the street.

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As you can see from the un-funny picture Paffooney above, it was mainly the left hind leg of the old pony that took the hit.  The other car hit the rear driver’s side wheel with enough force to flatten the tire, wreck the rim, and bend the end of the axle so that, with an emergency spare in place, I could still pick up my kids from school, though it was with a definite wibble-wobble added to the experience.  It was an inconvenient accident for me.  But it was worse for the other guy.  His car bounced off mine and skidded down the street about 200 feet.  It came to rest against the curb with a front wheel so bent that the steering wheel could no longer move it.  It sat at a weird angle to the rest of the car.

The young guy driving was rather shaken up.  He had trouble calling for the police to come and make an accident report because his hands were still shaking, yet he felt guilty enough that he wouldn’t let me make the call.  I tried to be as calm and helpful as possible.  I found out he was also originally from Iowa.  He also moved to Texas for work after college.  He could easily have been me thirty years ago.  He said that he had just dropped a friend off in the neighborhood, and the friend had left a drink cup from 7-Eleven on the dash.  When the cup fell, he made the mistake of trying to catch it, and drove directly into my car.

The timing of the accident was miserable.  I was already feeling ill before it happened, and it caused me to have to stand outside to give and send information to his insurance, my insurance, the police officer, and AAA Automotive Assistance to make my car drive-able  enough to get my kids from school during the Friday afternoon rush.  The repairs are going to be extensive because of a bent axle.  But I survived it.  And it gave me something to post for today.  So let me end with a reprise of my cartoon homage to Texas city driving.

The Car Chase of Life

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Filed under autobiography, feeling sorry for myself, humor, Paffooney

Spending Money

Rainbow peacock

I went with the WordPress premium because even though I don’t have enough money to spend on medicine that is supposed to keep me alive (in theory), I need to be able to post new artwork to my blog.  Picture-people like me need purple-paisley posting privileges because we live for color, form, pattern, and composition.  I reached the three gigabyte limit  on pictures with my free blog site, so I had to, like a starving drug addict, spend precious resources on feeding my habit.  So expect me to play with the new toy in the coming month.  I have some experimenting to do.

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Filed under announcement, Paffooney

Gingerbread Recipes for the Future

Gingeyhouse1n

I have been suffering through bad day after bad day recently.  I had a fender bender.  My favorite football team got plowed into the turf in the playoffs.  I have been suffering a great deal from weather-induced arthritis pain, low blood sugar, and viral infections.  And I even reached the download limit on my WordPress account, meaning I will have to pay more money to post new pictures.

But this blog is percolating along at 30 views per day or more.  I am being read and exposed to the light more than I ever have in my whole writing life.  That doesn’t earn me a penny, in fact, it costs me money, but it has to be a very good thing.  I deal with pain and hardship through creativity.  I create things to make it better.

When I was a kid, there was a little old German lady that lived in our little town.  She had a tattoo on her forearm.  She had been in a concentration camp in Poland in the 1940’s.  But , living as an Iowan, she was the most cheerful and loving old lady I knew.  She gave me chocolate bars for holding the door open for her at the Methodist church.  She gave homemade cookies to all the kids constantly.  She did not have any children of her own for very sad reasons that no one ever talked about.  She loved it when children visited her at her little tar-paper-covered house that we nicknamed “the Gingerbread House”.  I vividly remember being there one cold winter night after choir practice when she gave us gingerbread cookies and hot chocolate.  She told us on that snowy winter evening, “Gingerbread makes everything better.”

I have to believe that philosophy is essentially correct.  My stories are like gingerbread.  If I cook them just right, they will have that good ginger taste that soothes all hurts and longings.  So, I started putting together a story in honor of her.  She is already a character in several of my stories.  But I needed one where Grandma Gretel was the main character.  And it has to be about baking gingerbread and telling stories.  In fact, I think I will bake a little magic into it.  The gingerbread men she bakes will actually come to life.  And I will put together a theme about overcoming the darkness with a smile and wink and a recipe for gingerbread.

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Filed under 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion, autobiography, battling depression, humor, Paffooney, philosophy, Uncategorized

When Lizard People Win

Senator Tedhkruzh

Senator Tedhkruzh, the lizard-man from the doomed planet Galtorr Prime.

The Iowa Caucuses delivered a result that was, to me, not unexpected, but definitely dreaded.  Not that I am not happy that Bernie Sanders tied Hilary Clinton on the Democratic side.  Sanders is a gruff and determined old grandpa-man who says what he means and has been pursuing ideas that I truly believe will benefit everybody for more than forty years.  But my Iowa friends and Iowa family are more given to the conservative point of view.  As a result, they have a tendency to accept as truth the lies they are told by the lizard people who have taken on human disguises and become the leaders of the Republican Party.

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Apparently Grandpa Munster is the winner of the Republican half of the Iowa Caucuses.  Not to say that it is a bad thing that Mr. Donald Trump did not win, for he would be a very bad president if elected.  He does not represent all the people of this country, and does not even represent the interests of all the people who would vote for him.  He is a greedy, ruthless business overlord who favors the rich and has distinct and harmful prejudices against most minorities.  He has a terrible idea of what is good for all Americans.  But, as orangutans will when given the reins of the stagecoach, he will promptly drive us into the nearest ditch and be replaced with a better driver.
Senator Cruz from Texas, however, is another beast all together.  The noted conspiracy theorist, David Icke, insists many of the world leaders are actually serpentoid aliens able to take on human form, and are using their ability to control the world for sinister alien ends.  Now, I certainly don’t believe that David Icke is anything more than a kook and a charlatan making obscene amounts of money lecturing about his conspiracy theories and bizarre fantasy life.  Ted Cruz, in my experience, however, is a cold-blooded creature with nothing but his own appetites for power in his agenda.  He portrays himself as an opponent to Obamacare and orchestrated an unnecessary, expensive, and needlessly destructive government shutdown to demonstrate his power.  The fact that the Affordable Care Act is actually helping people with the nightmare of American health care and insurance access is irrelevant to him.  He is a child of immigrants, yet he is opposed to giving hard-working would-be immigrants easy access to citizenship and fully documented acceptance.  And the worst thing about the cold-blooded politician is that he has the power and ability to enforce his will if we make the mistake of electing him President of the United States.  As a humorist, it is tempting to merely call the enemy names and cleverly insult him.  You can probably tell that I enjoy doing just that.  But I hope you see too that I am choosing against him for myself because of his stated policy positions and past actions.  It is not the man… so much as the man’s potential for doing harm.  I admit to prejudice against him.  But sometimes you fear somebody for actual reasons… not just because he is a lizard man masquerading as a human being.

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Filed under aliens, angry rant, Paffooney, politics, satire

Ouch!

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I am a Dr. Who fan.  It is without a doubt, one of the most important factors of my Who-life.  I started watching in the early 70’s when Jon Pertwee was the Third Doctor.  We used to get Whovian re-runs on PBS on Friday nights.  I watched every episode I could manage… Cybermen, Daleks, Silurians… the Master.  It was fantastic sci-fi and imagination fuel of the highest octane.  The Fourth Doctor was my favorite after I started watching his episodes.  I still think of the image of Tom Baker’s Doctor whenever I think of Dr. Who.

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It was during the 1980’s that PBS went back to the beginning and aired the Dr. Who serials from the very start with William Hartnell as the Doctor.  My favorite Doctor turned out to be the little clown Patrick Troughton who played the Second Doctor and really sealed the formula of a wild and wacky adventurer through time and space who could make me laugh and keep me on the edge of my seat and sometimes even make me cry.

2nd Doctor

The order I watched the Doctors was 3-4-1-2-3-4-5-6-7 until the series restarted in the new Millennium.  Then I watched 9-10-11-8-and a couple of episodes of 12.  I used a combination of BBC America when we still had cable TV, and then I bought DVD’s to to try to fill in the blanks of what I missed.  When he went to the Marines, my oldest son bought me a Netflix account (shared with the whole family) and I have been using that to watch new episodes that I haven’t had a chance to see before… even some of the old Classic Dr. Who episodes that I had missed along the way.  I fell in love all over again with Dr. Who.  David Tennant and Matt Smith became my new favorite Doctors.

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But then came February 1st, 2016.  Contract disputes took all the BBC shows off Netflix.  I panicked.  I bought Hulu on January 30th.  Dr. Who was there up until this morning.  Apparently they no longer have Dr. Who either.

The world is darker place this morning.  My travels through time and space with the Doctor and his companions has temporarily been stalled yet again.

I hear rumors that it will be renegotiated, the way the CBS/Time Warner dispute was that took Big Bang Theory away from me for a year.  But I have no faith in the possible curbing of corporate greed and the effects it has on my imaginary life.  I mourn for now, and pray to the Doctor, hoping for relief.

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Filed under angry rant, Dr. Who, humor, Paffooney

Poor Ol’ Wooden Head

“Kaw-Liga”
KAW-LIGA, was a wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store
KAW-LIGA – A, just stood there and never let it show
So she could never answer “YES” or “NO”.

He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he’d talk
KAW-LIGA – A, too stubborn to ever show a sign
Because his heart was made of knotty pine.

[Chorus:]
Poor ol’ KAW-LIGA, he never got a kiss
Poor ol’ KAW-LIGA, he don’t know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red
KAW-LIGA, that poor ol’ wooden head.

KAW-LIGA, was a lonely Indian never went nowhere
His heart was set on the Indian maiden with the coal black hair
KAW-LIGA – A, just stood there and never let it show
So she could never answer “YES” or “NO”.

Then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid
And took her, oh, so far away, but ol’ KAW-LIGA stayed
KAW-LIGA – A, just stands there as lonely as can be
And wishes he was still an old pine tree.

“The Complete Hank Williams” (1998)

Magicman 3

The quirky movie I reviewed, Moonrise Kingdom, reconnected me with a song I loved as a child.  It was on an old 45 record that belonged to my mother’s best friend from high school.  When the Retleffs sold their farm and tore down their house and barn, they had a huge estate sale.  My mother bought the old record player and all the collected records that Aunt Jenny still had.  They were the same ones my mother and her friend Edna had listened to over and over.  There were two records of singles about Indian love.  Running Bear was about an Indian boy who fell in love with little White Dove.  They lived on opposite sides of a river.  Overcome with love, they both jump into the river, swim to the middle, lock lips, and both drown.  Together forever.  That song, it turns out, was written by the Big Bopper, and given to Johnny Preston to sing, and released the year after the Big Bopper died in a plane crash along with Buddy Holly and Richie Valens.

Kaw-liga, by Hank Williams, was a wooden Indian sitting in front of a cigar store.  His love story is even worse.  As you can see from the lyrics above, he never even gets the girl.  Dang, Indian love must be heck!

But I have come to realize that these aren’t merely racist songs from a bygone era.  They hold withing them a plea for something essential.  They are a reminder that we need love to be alive.

When I was young and deeply depressed… though also insufferably creative and unable to control the powers of my danged big brain, I knew that I wanted love.  There was one girl who went to school with me, lovely Alicia Stewart (I am not brave enough to use her real name), that filled my dreams.  We were classmates, and alphabetical seating charts routinely put us near each other.  She had a hypnotic sparkle in her eyes whenever she laughed at my jokes.  She was so sweet to me… sweet to everyone… that she probably caused my diabetes.  I longed to carry her books or hold her hand.  I cherished every time she spoke to me, and collected the memories like stamps in a stamp album.  But like the stupid cigar store Indian, I never spoke up for myself.  I never told her how I felt.  I was endlessly like Charlie Brown with the Little Red-Haired Girl.  Sometimes you have to screw up your courage and leap into the river, even if it means your undoing.  Because love is worth it.  Love is necessary.  And it comes to everybody in one way or another over time.  I look at pictures of her grandchildren posted on Facebook now, and wonder what might have been, if only… if only I had jumped in that stupid river.  I did find love.  And I probably would’ve drowned had I done it back then.  Life has a way of working things out eventually.  But there has to be some reason that in the 50’s, when I was born, they just kept singing about Indian love.

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Filed under autobiography, finding love, humor, Paffooney

A Full-Color Rough Draft

As terrible as my first published novel turned out to be, I have not given up on the idea of Aeroquest.  I am interested in whipping a part of it into the shape of a graphic novel.  So I bought a sketchbook and noodled down some Baby Mutant Space Ninjas gunk into it in full color.  But it is only a rough draft.  It is not finished artwork.  I can’t get over how pretty and colorful it is turning out to be.  I thought I would show you how it is going so far.

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There are obvious signs that the dialogue and text boxes need to turned into a more finished form.  And serious editing decisions probably need to be made about moon shots.

Here is what it looks like to use computer editing to try to fix some of the problems.

Aeroq1

I will continue to work on it, but I needed something to post today.  And sometimes you need to consider the work-in-progress warts and all.

 

 

 

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Filed under art editing, cartoons, humor, new projects, Paffooney