Category Archives: Paffooney
People in My Head at the Moment
As a writer seriously immersed in a particular work in progress, I find myself talking more and more to certain people who exist only in my head. They are the characters in my novel, The Boy… Forever.
The novel is itself an epistolary novel. That means, like Bram Stoker’s Dracula, it is made up of letters, notes, diary and journal entries, and other personal writing of the central characters. It also means that I have to become the different people who write these things. At least while I create each individual artifact that goes into the mosaic of first-person narratives.
Anita Jones, pictured here, is the letter-writer who starts the plot in motion when she gets a very disturbing letter from her cousin, Icarus Jones.
Icarus writes about his problem with becoming a midget, and his response to it being a plan to kill himself. It seems that he simply stopped growing at the age of ten. Now, being a fifteen-year-old in the body of a ten-year-old, he writes a suicide note in the form of a letter, and then goes to jump off a bridge into the Mississippi River. But when he does, he survives. Or, rather, he succeeds, but cannot remain dead. He doesn’t know it, yet, but he has become a human mutation known in the secret world of unknown things as an Immortal.
Icky’s problem becomes worse when it is discovered he is being pursued by another immortal, a sort of vampiric immortal who needs to consume the essence of other immortals to stay alive. He is a three-thousand-year-old Chinese Celestial Dragon who is able to assume a human form.
Neither Icky Jones nor Tian Long the dragon, though, really needs to be in my head. Icarus himself only writes the first and last letters of the book. Tian Long, the villain, does not have a say at all in telling the story. The only part of it he writes are the wizard spells he uses to confound everyone, and most of those are in Chinese.
Besides the letters that Anita Jones writes to her cousin in Dallas, Dot Jones, the story is also advanced in the journal entries of Milt Morgan, one of the leaders of the boys’ gang in rural Iowa known as the Norwall Pirates. He has been asked by the Freshman English teacher to keep a daily journal and write every day in 1976. This he struggles to do, but gains writing and typing skills as he goes along, especially when he befriends Icarus and learns about the dragon pursuing Icky.
Milt is full of imagination and a sense of adventure, a thing that makes him an unreliable narrator, not above embellishing the truth as he writes his not-so-much- daily-as-infrequent journal entries.
The story is also taken up by Brent Clarke, the leader of the Norwall Pirates. Brent wants to be a policeman or a detective or something like that when he grows up. He takes careful investigation notes on everything, and he is the first one to become suspicious of the Chinese man and his step-daughter who pick a house in the town of Norwall that they want to live in right before the actual owner and occupant of the house mysteriously dies in a falling accident. Brent befriends the local Sheriff’s Deputy and sets out on a serious possible murder investigation that yields some very disturbing results. His notes are very detail-oriented and generally fact-based. He carefully records his own eye-witness accounts of everything.
Sherry Cobble, the more outgoing of the identical twins known as the Cobble Sisters, is a happy nudist with a very positive body image for herself and her twin sister. She is a very positive person over-all. She and her sister Shelly had started out keeping a “Lovely Nudist’s Diary” between them, but Shelly is not nearly as interested in writing and storytelling as her sister. So, Sherry takes over the diarist duties with the same sort of glee and enthusiasm she has for promoting nudism to her friends, especially the Norwall Pirates. It is her goal to eventually see all of the kids in Norwall naked and happy just as she and her sister Shelly always are.
Those four different character voices are the main voices I have to work with in telling this fantasy adventure story in much the same way as Stoker tells the story of Dracula.
So, if I begin to seem like I have a disordered mind full of multiple personalities, it’s because I am a novelist, not a mental patient or a vampire or even a Chinese dragon in human form. I am simply trying to tell a story by allowing four distinctly different characters to live inside my head.
Filed under characters, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, surrealism, work in progress, writing humor
AeroQuest 5… Canto 155
Canto 155 – The Killer Clowns of Mingo
“Let me introduce myself. I am Smiley Creaturefeature, Imperial Harlequin of the Triumvirate now present on Mingo!”
A second Harlequin also stepped through the ruined doorway. “And I am Sharpwhistle Crackplatter, his second in command.”
The two costumed cyborgs both switched on a feature of their armor simultaneously and immediately sent the entire hallway into chaos. Flashing and strobing colored lights along with barely audible sonic waves warped the senses of all the Psions the cyborgs faced, and Emperor Mong even couldn’t get his pants pulled back up.
Phoenix and Rocket both ignited their fire forms, but neither was able to see through their own flames because of the constant color-changing lights.
Jackie was unable to concentrate enough to teleport. The sonic waves kept her from using her inner eye.
Shu could pick up rocks and debris, but his telekinetic senses were fooled enough by the lights that he couldn’t accurately target anything.
Ged’s senses also were overwhelmed. But he took a moment to think, letting Smiley and Sharpwhatsit cartwheel around him and his distressed students. He didn’t particularly care what they maybe wanted to do to Mong.
Now, the Blind Kraken of Jargoon was a creature with no sense of sight or capability of hearing. It’s tentacles were guided by a superb heat-sensory organ that could identify shapes and locations of both hot and cool things And the amphibious creature had no problem being completely out of the water for long periods of time. And Ged had both hunted and eaten one more than an Earth decade ago.
“What is that blobby white thing?” Smiley said to Sharpwhatsit.
“Dunno… but it don’t look bullet-proof.”
Both Harlequins whipped out slug-throwing weapons called machine guns and filled the air with projectiles. Ged used several of his twenty tentacles to shift his writhing students out of harm’s way while his gelatinous body absorbed and digested all the slugs that hit him.
“It seems to like that!” shouted Sharpwhatsit as he did a handspring and cast the machine gun aside.
“Lasers, then?” asked Smiley.
“Lasers, yes!” answered the other clown.
The medium-laser pistols they both pulled out fired hot laser light at Ged’s shape-changing body. He not only absorbed the attacks, the extra heat energy he absorbed made his tentacles quicker.
The first catch was Smiley Creaturefeature’s right ankle. The second catch was Smiley’s gun hand. Then he poured megajoules of heat energy into Smiley’s limbs, completely melting his muscle-control circuits. He was completely immobilized though he was still alive in the way that cyborgs are alive, He was out of the battle.
“I will avenge you, Smiley,” hollered Sharpwhatsit. He cast away the laser and pulled out a vibro-sword. Each tentacle that Ged reached out with was immediately lopped off and rendered useless.
But the Electric Coil Monster of New Spain had once been hunted by Ged and his brother, and then dissected for the scientist that hired them. Ged knew it inside out.
When Sharpwhistle Crackplatter’s blade embedded itself in Ged’s coil, he sent a lightning charge of electricity coursing through the surprised dancing clown. He fell writhing to the floor, all his circuits shorting out, making him as dead as an undead cyborg can technically be.
The students, no longer incapacitated by the Harlequins, stood around Ged as he transformed back into his human form.
“I hope we don’t have to overcome any more of those things,” said Phoenix.
“You should go after the Triumvirs that have your girlfriend right now before they call up any more of those terrible monsters,” whined Mong, still sniveling.
“Lead us there,” Ged commanded.
Filed under aliens, heroes, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, satire, science fiction
Mickian Fantasy Art
There is a reason why anything in my artwork starting with a rabbit is assumed to be autobiographical. I raised rabbits as a 4-H project from about the age of 10 and we kept rabbits in pens until I was finishing my undergraduate degree. (Rabbit chores fell to my little brother when I was away from home.) In many ways, I was a rabbit-man. My personal avatar as a school teacher was Reluctant Rabbit.
There is often an exaggerated sense of adventure in my cartoonally weird Paffoonies, the very name of which is a fantasy word.
I have been known to actually believe gingerbread can be magical enough for gingerbread men to come to life once baked. It is the reason I bite the legs off first, so they can’t run away.
I have been known to see elves, fairies, and numerous other things that aren’t really there. In fact, a whole secret hidden kingdom of them inhabited the schoolyard in Iowa where I attended grades K through 6. They were all mostly three inches tall. The biggest ones, like dragons reaching only about six inches tall at their largest.
The Reds and the Blues in Art
That phrase, “the Reds and the Blues,” is important to me because Red means “Happy” and Blue means “Sad.” Opposites that make a whole when taken together. This picture is of a boy that might have been my son if I had married the blond girlfriend that was closest to me (at times) in the 1980s. It is called, “Long Ago It Might Have Been.”
But Red also means “Anger.” Here’s a band of red-uniformed soldiers marching into the threatening darkness of the future. They are leaving the Blue mountains of sadness behind where Blue also means, “in the distance.”
Blue can also mean, “Magic and Mystery.”
Red, Blue, and Yellow, especially when supported by the other colors, mean, “Completeness.”
Blogging Advice
The only advice I am actually qualified to give here is… don’t take any blogging advice from me as worth more than diddly-squoot.
That being said, my blog views are gradually going up year after year. I am followed by readers all over the world, and some of them actually read my blog regularly, rather than just looking at the pictures and occasionally hitting the like button.
I have not yet, however, learned to throw the moose. I started this blog in order to promote my published writing. I now have seven published books available on Amazon. I made $2.60 in royalties during 2018 so far. So, as a marketing ploy, it has been a total failure.
But as a tool in my writing life, here are some things I definitely count as benefits;
Writing a blog post every day makes the ideas flow more easily and does away with any threat of writer’s block.
Writing every day is practice and it makes me a better writer.
I have learned how to engage with an actual audience.
I am able to try out various writing ideas without worrying about success or failure.
So, all of these things add value and keep me at this blogging thing which didn’t exist in my early life when I was planning for becoming a writer when I left teaching.
If you are tempted to make the huge mistake of following my advice and emulating me, I would warn you, I do not make a living as a writer, and I never will. I am a writer in the same way I am a diabetic. I can’t help it. I wouldn’t change it even if it were possible. I have a body of work that I intend to continue to build on until I am no more. The creation of it is a necessity of my existence. And I certainly don’t regret a single syllable, though what happens to it when I am gone is not important to me in any way that matters. I hope my children will keep it as a legacy, but I only do it because it shapes the story of my life.
And so, I continue to throw meese (or mooses… or moosi… or whatever the hell the funniest plural of “moose” is) and continue not to knock down any pins.
Filed under blog posting, humor, Paffooney, Uncategorized, writing, writing teacher
Hidden Kingdom… Chapter 2 Complete
Here is the link to the complete Chapter 1https://catchafallingstarbook.net/2018/11/24/hidden-kingdom-chapter-1-complete/
Filed under comic strips, fairies, Hidden Kingdom, humor, Paffooney
AeroQuest 5… Canto 154
Canto 154 – Mingo Mix-It-Ups
The fight had been almost boring as the waves of rot warriors shambled forward, trying to aim their various spears, guns, and lasers, and then being disassembled by the student Psions of Ged Aero’s Dojo. Shu Kwai had been the most destructive, able to rip out electronic controls with a mere thought. Phoenix had also laid waste, melting the circuitry out of the Mechanoid-zombie army of Mong the Unmerciful. The minions of Mong had melted like margarine in a microwave. Ged had found himself in his armored cat form with nothing to actually do.
The invaders soon found themselves virtually in control of the Ruined Palace of David King. Jackie teleported back to the Celestial Dragon and picked up Gyro. The little Neulon whiz kid hooked up some software in an injector device he had pulled together by rearranging molecules with his mind. He then linked it to an uncrushed rot-warrior skull and pulled out a map of the complex through the skull’s control link to the building’s computer system.
“What’d you find there, Smurf?” Phoenix asked almost immediately.
“I am finding Emperor Mong in his suite surrounded by rot-warrior generals trying to destroy two guys called Triumvirs with an even bigger horde of rot warriors than we just polished off,” said Gyro, grinning at his own manipulative genius at controlling computers without relying on Junior’s special Psion power.
“What?” said Phoenix, frowning.
“He’s telling you he found the Emperor in his private living quarters focusing his attacks on somebody besides us,” said Shu Kwai with an icy superiority.
Phoenix frowned at the nearly naked boy in his white loincloth. Ged could feel tension building again between the two.
“Okay,” said Phoenix, “so what do we do now, Ged Sensei?”
“We go pay Mong a little visit,” Ged answered, now back in human form and dressed in the jumpsuit and fedora hat he had brought with him.
“Has he detected us?” Rocket asked Gyro.
“I don’t know for sure, but maybe not. He is in… I don’t know how to say it in Galactic English. The kapooiac.”
“I have a feeling that means the fresher… or restroom… probably,” suggested Phoenix.
“Let’s go quickly,” ordered Shu Kwai, “so we can maintain as much surprise as possible.”
Gyro led the way through bone-littered corridors. The whole place had the feel of an old black-and-white monster movie. This wasn’t surprising, since the Galtorrians had based much of their culture on the TV programs they intercepted from ancient Earth in the 1950s and 1960s. In fact, Galactic English had become the norm in the Orion Spur due to the fact that the Galtorrians worshipped the TV comedy I Love Lucy. Through artificial cobwebs and gray stonework, they wound their way down into the bowels of the palace. Finally, Gyro stopped them before a blank stone wall.
“There is a secret door here,” he said with a sweet blue smile.
“Good,” said Phoenix. “I’ll open it!”
A wall of flame swelled outward from Phoenix’s fingertips. The wall of artificial stone and plasticrete melted away before them, revealing Mong on his personal throne. It was not his throne of office, either, but rather the natural place one goes when he can no longer keep his bowels from emptying from fear.
“Eeuw! Gross!” cried Jackie, staring at the emperor with his pants down.
Mong was cringing while staring out from under his golden skullcap with the carved dragon as its crest. His Fu Manchu moustache was wet with tears of fear.
“Oh, great Ged Aero! You are the one my agents have been telling me about, aren’t you?” Mong’s voice was squeaky and timid, surprising from so sinister a caped figure, even with his pants down on his throne and toilet paper in hand. Shu Kwai, Rocket, Phoenix, and Gyro all laughed about this man they had so recently dreaded.
“Mong, I have come for her,” said Ged. “I want Tara Salongi back.”
“What? I don’t have your young lady! But you have to defend me! Protect me from those clowns and I will gladly give her back to you!”
The pitiful evil emperor was pleading in such a sniveling, groveling manner that Ged couldn’t bear it.
“Do you have her? Or don’t you? All I require from you,” said Ged, “is to lead me to Tara and then flee this planet for your pitiful life. If I don’t get her back, I will hunt you down and tear you to pieces.”
There was a large, startling crash as someone tore the fresher door on the opposite side out of the wall.
Ged’s eyes flashed with anger, an emotion that none of the students present had ever actually seen in him before. It chilled them all to the bone.
An armored clown stepped through the hole. He was obviously a cyborg, but far more sophisticated than any rot warrior they had yet encountered.
“So, Mong is not out of champions yet!” declared the Harlequin menacingly.
Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, satire, science fiction
Nebulons
Part of the Traveller Role-Playing Game is dealing with alien races. So, as a game master for the Traveller Adventures back in the 1980’s, I had the opportunity to create alien races of my own. Truthfully, the alien Telleron race that I created for the novel Catch a Falling Star already existed in my cartoons and fiction stories before I began playing the role-playing game. The Nebulon Race, however, was invented entirely for the game. Only later did they become a part of my fiction.
So, what are Nebulons? Gyro Sinjarac on the left in the picture is an example from Aeroquest of a Nebulon. They are aliens who are human in every respect except for their blue skin. Interestingly they can even successfully interbreed with Earther humans. This is apparently due to either the evolution of Nebulons from Earther explorers, or, more likely, the galaxy being seeded with Earth humans and Earther DNA by the mysterious alien race known only as “the Ancients”. What is not debatable is that Nebulons have unique skin. The blue skin with high levels of natural copper sulfate in it has evolved as a protection from interstellar nebula radiation. No one who has learned their language and studied their culture has ever identified a planet of origin. Instead, the Nebulons have been a space-born race since humans first encountered them, travelling in their symbiotic space-whale space cruisers. They are a mysterious deep-space race of alien beings who use organic symbiotes, in other words, living creatures, as their pervasive technology.
Junior Aero makes an excellent example to use to explain what Nebulons are. You can see by this picture that not only does he possess the Nebulon blue skin, but also the bright yellow hair, the red heat-transfer cheek organs, and the small stature that makes them easily satirized as “Space Smurfs” in honor of Peyo’s beloved blue comic characters.
The Nebulons as a race are often cited as evidence of the evolutionary trend of intelligent races towards neoteny, the retention of childlike features into maturity and adulthood. Even the oldest and the most physically fit of the adult Nebulon population resemble children and young teenagers rather than Arnold-Schwarzenegger-like humans. But believing them to be soft and weak like children is a mistake that often yields tragedy for those who contend against them, especially in battle. The Nebulons have often fought in space wars like the 5th Unification War, both for and against the human-led Imperium.
But the Nebulons are not automatically at odds with humanoid races in any way. They are generally happy in demeanor and temperament, easily befriending other races, even the snake-eyed Galtorrian humans that tend to dominate the Imperium. They seem to be particularly fond of Pan-Galactican Space Cowboys, having helped them during the border conflicts with the mysterious race known as the Faceless Horde.
So, there is a glop of information about an alien race from my science-fiction comedy writing that you can sort out as you like, and can probably learn from as a science fiction writer yourself. They are probably an excellent example of what not to do when creating a science-fiction-style alien race of your own.
Filed under aliens, Dungeons and Dragons, humor, illustrations, Paffooney, science fiction
Catch a Falling Star 
Happiness in Hand
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still fairly sure that life on Planet Earth is doomed to extinction by global warming and the acidification of the oceans. The Koch Brothers and Exxon decided back in the 1970s that short-term profits were more important than the continued existence of their own children and grandchildren. Hatred, Greed, and Narcissus are still the animating angels behind everything this human world stands for.
The naked truth behind this post is that the good guys actually held off the minions of the three evil angels. Election deniers for the most part not only lost a majority of their races but also conceded, the act that the Orange President refused to do, thus breaking a sacred tradition that really does prevent violence during transitions of power.
I fully expected a week ago to have all the gains of the election of 2020 wiped out. I thought radical Repulsivecans would take over both the House and the Senate. Impeachments of Joe Biden would begin. Trumpalump would be headed back to the Siege Perilous known as the Presidency. A fascist dictatorship would replace democracy. This sunshiny outlook exists among other reasonably smart people who are not me.
But the good guys held back the Red Wave that everyone anticipated. The good guys still hold control of the Senate. And if they lose the House, it won’t be by much. And the ballots are still being counted on that narrow victory, no matter which way it goes.
So, some very important things could still happen in the near future.
We might still be able to fight climate catastrophe and preserve life on Earth.
We might move towards a fairer, more progressive tax system that takes away from the wealthy who can afford it and lifts the tax burdens on the poor and middle class.
We might finally, after a long drought, fully fund public schools in a fair and research-based way. Education would be more engaging, useful, and free. And we would benefit from living in a society where we are not commonly surrounded by stupid people.
It would be nice, for once, to hold onto the good things placed in our hands for more than just a couple of years. We will go through all of this again in two years. We may well be under Repulsivecan’s hands again under President Ron DeSaniflush next time. We may be in another recession or even a depression. But I’m a pessimist on purpose. I now, briefly, get to celebrate being wrong about this last election. And I am happy.
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Filed under Celebration, commentary, Paffooney, politics