August 9, 2017 · 4:30 pm

Never Seen Before

So, President Cheetoh-Head is threatening to use nukes to blow up the world in response to threats by Supreme Leader Fat-boy Jong Un.  Maybe I have even less time than I thought I did to get my work out there for others to see.  I am resigned to dying in total obscurity as a writer.  Which is entirely okay.  But I have some things to show you that have not already been seen.

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This is a picture that has been in my folder in the closet since 1978.  It is a part of a cartoon story that would later become Hidden Kingdom.

I haven’t been hiding things so much because I am ashamed of them, though you can see some amateurish flaws in my work, but more because I simply haven’t taken time to use these particular pictures.

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I bought this toy from the Wonder Woman movie, horse and doll, for under $20.

This toy purchase photo from a week ago was a buy I made to feel better after learning that I was going to have to declare bankruptcy.  I thought about using it in a blog before now, but never found the right time.

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This picture of Jade Beyer watching the outside world full of edible cats and sniffable stinks was taken while eating some ice cream.  She was in a funk about not being offered any, and there were people out there using her favorite park across the street.  She boofed at them until I scolded her for barking too much.

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I found a sheet of school pictures from the late eighties when I was a much younger man, looking a little bit like Harry Potter who hadn’t even been published yet.

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I cropped it to make a better self-portrait of the way I once looked in school, wearing a tie as a teacher, and gray suspenders because I was a fool.

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And then I enhanced it using a phone-camera app recommended to me by Vietnamese immigrant school girls.  It made me look even more like an older Harry Potter.

So, there you have it.  Secrets revealed.  Pictures never before seen in public.  And I am not now totally ashamed… just mostly.

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August 8, 2017 · 12:51 pm

Stardusters… Canto 59

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Canto Fifty-Nine – In the Nesting Quarters of Tanith and Davalon

Davalon and Tanith had learned to cuddle and hold each other in the affectionate way that Earthers like Alden and Gracie Morrell always did.  They were doing it now in the nest Sizzahl had given them.  Dav could no more imagine being apart from Tanith than he could imagine going back to the old Telleron ways of killing and recycling the protein of tadpoles who proved to be unnecessary during the long space voyages.

“Are we going to survive this adventure, Dav?”

“Yes, I think we stand a very good chance now with the adults here to save us.  Especially Mrs. Castille.  She is a very formidable warrior.”

“How did our people survive without her?”

“That’s a very good question.  I think our people have been going down the wrong path for centuries.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever wondered about how our fundamental survival methods actually work?”

“No.  We were not programmed in the egg to think about things like that.”

“I think that’s a mistake too, Tanith.  We need more thinkers in our species.  With the protein recycling system we used to have, you and I might not have survived.  If we hadn’t undergone such a dramatic change on Earth, our whole mission might have gone extinct by now.”

“I don’t follow, Dav.”

“Think about it.  What kind of Telleron people survived most often in our society before we adopted Earther behavior?”

“Self-promoting evil ones like Commander Sleez… and, well… stupid ones like Corebait and Studpopper and Finkerblatt… the ones who were lucky enough to never be put in a position where their life was threatened.”

“Yeah, except Corebait disintegrated himself back on Earth, and Finkerblatt tried to flush a toilet into space instead of the molecular recycle grid and was pulled out into space by his…”

“Yeah, but Studpopper proves that the lucky stupid ones do sometimes stay alive.”

“Okay.  You’re right.  But it is also the steady and quietly competent ones like Farbick… and maybe Commander Biznap that not only survive, but get critical things done and help others to survive as well as themselves.”

“So, what are you saying, Dav?”

“I think we know what we have to do, and what kind of Telleron people we need to become.”

“We need to be lucky and stupid?”

Davalon smiled as he saw how brightly Tanith was smiling at him.

“We need to be people who think and solve problems.  We need to be competent like Farbick.  We need to take the lead like Biznap.”

“You think that thinking is our job or something?”

“Exactly.  Promise me you will help me learn how to think better and more clearly.  You are smart, Tanith.  If you and I help each other, we will both get smarter.”

“And maybe we can raise up tadpoles of our own.”

Davalon smiled at her.  She was lovely cradled in his arm and close up against his chest.

“Yes.  We can make a new world where Tellerons are better than they have ever been.”

“We can evolve into a better people?”

“Yes. And with a little of the lucky that used to be only for stupid Tellerons, maybe we can be a people who live to old age and rebuild a planet.”

“You are giving me good things to dream about,” Tanith said, closing her eyes and falling softly into the realm of good dreams.

*****

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August 7, 2017 · 2:15 pm

For the Love of Sad Clowns

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This is my latest clown picture, inspired by my newest fascination with Puddles’ Pity Party on YouTube.  Like all my clown pictures, I am fairly sure that my number one son will tell me it’s a creepy clown.  He has never liked clowns.  When he was still small we took him to the pre-show at Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus which at that time was Meet the Clowns.  We met the men… and women… and dwarves… in the face paint with the loud personalities and huge red smiles.   I was charmed, as always, but number one son spent most of the time behind my pantleg, peering around for sneak peaks at the clowns.  He was actually shivering most of the time.

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But me, I love clowns.   Always have.  Especially the sad clowns.  The hobo clowns.  Red Skelton playing Freddy the Freeloader, Charlie Chaplin as the Little Tramp, Marcel Marceau, the peerless mime, and Emmett Kelly Jr. as Weary Willie.  There is something deeply poetic and resonant about a clown who makes you laugh by his outward actions but manifests deep feelings and an underlying sadness on the inside.  It is a metaphor for the whole of life in the human world.

Puddles walked on to the stage of America’s Got Talent and engaged everyone first with his silent-clown mime routine, and then grabbed everyone right by the heart by singing a song about drinking and swinging on the chandelier with such emotion and operatic power that, by the end of the song everyone was standing, everyone loved him.  Singing clowns with a sad song help us keep our own little boats afloat on a vast and stormy ocean of life.  The song buoys us up and makes it bearable to tread water a little longer.  I am at a time and place in my life where I really need that.

I love clowns.  Especially sad clowns.  Particularly when they sing.

I dare you to watch these videos and not fall in love with Puddles.  That’s the point of sad clowns.  They make you laugh at the sad and serious things that tear people apart.  And by doing that, they put Scotch Tape on the tears and put you back together.

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August 6, 2017 · 3:03 pm

Battling Pirates and Losing

Black Tim

I have been boarded and scuttled by the pirates of Banko Merricka.  Yes the blood-thirsty buccaneers have won their lawsuit against me and forced me into a Chapter 13 bankruptcy.  You see, they ambushed me.  When I was undergoing a debt reduction plan, the evil banker buccaneers of Banko Merricka not only refused to answer all calls from my lawyer, they quietly sold my debt to their ruthless debt collecting assassins, who waited until I had paid off all my other creditors, and then launched a lawsuit against me.  They normally get away with this kind of ambush because people in general don’t know how to respond.  I hired a lawyer and fought back.  I would’ve been able to pay a settlement if it had occurred when I wasn’t dealing with a big financial hit from the city over the derelict swimming pool.

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My Banko Merricka debt was boosted by a couple thousand dollars due to their court fees which I must also pay.   It is a very expensive process for the average American to become bankrupt and poor.  The kind of bankruptcy I will undergo bundles all my unpaid unsecured credit card debt into one huge pile and then, supervised by an account manager, I will pay it off in manageable chunks for the next five years.  It wipes out all my credit accounts except car payments and reduces my ability to secure loans to zero.  The pirates have won.

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But I am not despairing.  I haven’t been able to afford medicine and going to the doctor since I retired, so I will probably not live to pay it all off anyway.  And money is not the focus of my life.  The people who care about money more than life itself do not lead happier lives than I do.  If we lose our house and have to move to an apartment, we can do that.  If I have to get by on less each month, well, I’ve done that before.  Money worries will not be the cause of my heart attack or stroke.  And who knows, if I eat enough spinach, maybe there is super-power to fight back with in my future.  Pirates don’t win every battle.

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August 5, 2017 · 3:34 pm

D & D Sidekicks

Why did Batman have Robin the Boy Wonder?  Not only that, but why Bucky and Captain America?  Green Arrow and Speedy?  Aquaman and Aqualad?  Superman and Krypto the Super Dog?  Fredric Wertham, the Seduction of the Innocents and the Comics Code guy, would have you believe that they were there to make young boys turn gay and violent.  But that was nonsense, wasn’t it?  Better change Krypto for photographer Jimmy Olsen just in case.

But if that was merely nonsense, why was it such a part of the formula?

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As a D & D dungeon master, I have my own theory about sidekicks and their function in story-telling.

Young sidekicks were an important part of the stories I told as a game master because the players in my games were mostly adolescent boys themselves.  It was the same as the primary readers of Batman comics in the 1950’s of Wertham’s Comics Code.  The young hero or adventurer character, most often in the form of a non-player character, was someone they could relate to because of age.  They had more in common with the sidekick than the lead hero.  It helped to draw them into the story and make it relevant.

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As a story-telling device, you often find the young apprentice character in novels written for younger audiences.  Think of David Eddings’ Belgariad, or Lloyd Alexander’s  Chronicles of Prydain, or Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson.  The characters of Garion the youngster in the Belgariad,  Taran the young protagonist of Prydain, and certainly Jim Hawkins of Treasure Island.  

So, with that realization, I incorporated youthful characters, both boys and girls, as apprentices and student-adventurers.

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Initially it proved to be a hard thing.   Wizards and sorcerers, according to D & D rules, can take an apprentice once they reach level three.  But first level characters as apprentices are vulnerable because damage done by third level monsters wipes out the meager hit point reserves of a beginner character.  After several traumatic deaths of beloved sidekicks, the player characters begin to take steps to protect them better in combat, or quickly learn where to find priests with resurrection spells who work really cheap.

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Of course, these characters are useful for more than just creating combat complications.  They are really useful for comic relief.  The missteps, mistakes, and total botch-jobs that these inexperienced younger characters create can make us laugh, make us sweat a little to correct it, and move the plot forward in interesting ways that I, as the game master, wouldn’t have otherwise planned.

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So, hopefully, Mr. Wertham’s ghost isn’t hovering over my D & D game thinking it is all a plot to create a generation of violent, gay youths.  Hopefully he can see that it is all a part of a well-established story-telling literary device that actually helps to educate and deepen the understanding of youths.  But it is swiftly becoming irrelevant what Wertham’s ghost thinks anyway.  I haven’t played D & D for a while now.  My sons and daughter now have their own groups of friends, playing under different dungeon masters with different dice.  But hopefully, the need for youthful sidekicks will remain.

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August 4, 2017 · 2:43 pm

Another Danged Good Book I Read

Little Altars Everywhere 
by Rebecca Wells (Goodreads Author)

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Michael Beyer‘s review

Aug 04, 2017


Rebecca Wells is a writing chameleon, a shape-changer like blessed few other writers can manage. She creates the world of Thornton, Louisiana by story-telling through the eyes of eight different characters. Each voice is distinct and exquisitely crafted with a unique and individual personality. And yet, the plot is in no way fractured by the various viewpoints of the action. It is the story of all the love, violence, anger, resentment, ugliness, and beauty that takes a family of six from 1963 to 1991, from childhood to adulthood, from ignorance and pain, to grudging maturity and acceptance.
I can’t begin to recount the story without spoiling it for you. It is the story of Siddalee Walker and her family as they grow up on Pecan Grove cotton plantation. And it is a marvelous kaleidoscopic picture of the difficulties and complexities of living life and learning wisdom the way they used to do in Louisiana. Wells makes me laugh and makes me cry going back and forth between emotions in the space of a few pages. You know, the way brilliant authors usually do. I recommend you read this book. I loved it, and if you love reading too, you will not be disappointed.
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August 3, 2017 · 11:37 am

This Is Me… Again

Who am I?  What is my name?  Mickey?  Michael?  Mike?  The Bavarian?  Dr. Seabreez?  The Happy Pessimist?  The Fool?

Yes, all of those.

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I winterized the Eggplant house.  I turned the Easter Bunny out front into a snowman.  Why did I do that?  So I could live there peacefully?  In a purple house made out of a weird vegetable that I can’t stand to eat?  Of course I did.

My own house is still in peril.  We have not yet gotten the pool removed.  I worked hard on it and repaired it to the point that it could actually hold water.  But the electrical repairs cost more than removing the pool.  The house was wired incorrectly when the pool was put in some time in the 70’s, long before I lived here.  So I tried to get a loan to cover the cost of the pool repair.  I was denied twice.  My credit rating is too far into the toilet.

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This is not a self portrait, though I am not saying I am not a nerd.

My credit rating went south because Bank of America sued me, and I can’t afford to pay what they demand and still have money for the mortgage, food, and, well, I have already stopped taking any medicine the doctor wants me to take for the rest of my life.  I talked to a lawyer yesterday and paid him the retainer to represent me in a Chapter 13 bankruptcy.   I lose what credit I had left.

But, sad sack though I am, I still believe in the future.  There is still hope.  Joy to be had.  Songs to sing.  Clowns to be.  I still have my red foam nose.

I was thinking of going back to the nudist park on Saturday when more people would be there.  But it is going to rain Saturday.  Naked in the rain from a thunder-shower is not a good thing for nutty naked me.  So maybe not.  Sitting nude alone in my room has already helped my psoriasis sores dry and heal, so maybe I don’t have to go be embarrassed with other fools in order to feel better.  I am a poverty-stricken idiot, but I am still a basically happy person.

So… This is me… again.  I get to decide myself who I am and what I am worth.  Not bankers.  Not lawyers.  Not other fools.  Just me.  This is me.

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August 2, 2017 · 1:20 pm

Crazy Poems by an Insane Poet

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I Let My Dog Write This Poem

MMMM-woof!

Smell that?  Definitely Cat poop.

I love that smell.

And what’s that smell over there?

I mean right there!

Quit pulling on my leash!  I have to smell it!

Ahh!  Bird poop from a pigeon with a fatal disease.

And over there!  Yes, stop holding me back!

Oh!  A dead bird!  Yum!  Icky dead things taste great!

But it was a pigeon.

MMM-woof?  Can dogs get pigeon diseases?

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Why on Earth Did I Turn into a Nudist?

It is so embarrassing to admit it

I have no clothes to fit it

That feel as good as going bare

And wearing not even underwear

And the wind and the sun on my naked skin

Open my heart and let the sunshine in

I’ve never really felt so alive

As I feel while talking the naturist jive

And living life as a naked man

And doing the things that Adam can

How can it be such a stupid thing?

That makes my heart to dance and sing?

Black Tim

Thar Be Pirates, Yaaar!

The Pirates o’ Bank o’ Merricka has stabbed me wallet

And make thar monies by stealin’

And whooda thunk it?  But the Pirates be many blokes

Who sells insurance or credick-card akkounts

And compounds the fie!-nance charges

At twelvety-hunnert thousing per cent

And makes thar monies the ol’ fashioned way

By hooks and by crooks but mosty by stealin’

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And so… There you have it.  Three poems about things that recently made sanity a bit harder to define when looking in the old mirror.  I am not saying I have gone insane, but I do think I may be on the right road to go over the hill and around a couple curves to find the place where you have to go to find it.

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August 1, 2017 · 12:02 pm

Stardusters… Canto 58

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Canto Fifty-Eight – On the Gundahl Moon

Xiar looked around at the moon base.  There was considerable damage to the buildings and the power plant was going to need to be replaced by Telleron Magna-Grav generators.  But, unlike the main planet below, the atmosphere on the small, broken moon was breathable and totally conducive to Telleron life.  His people were saved.  They could thrive here.

Biznap walked up with a young Galtorrian boy trailing in his shadow.

“Can we install an energy shield to protect us from that space craft you mentioned?”

“We can go one better,” said Biznap.  “The defensive slug-throwers are still operational here.  They have a rail gun set up here that we can electronically enhance and increase the lethal power to levels the Galtorrians cannot match.  They will not be able to drive us out.”

“The news pleases me,” Xiar said.  He nodded toward the boy.  “Who is your young friend?”

“I have appointed Jahzpuhr here the leader of the Galtorrian children on this moon.  He is helping us with repair and construction.”

“You will not try to kill and us, will you, Jahzpuhr?” Xiar asked.

“No, sir, Captain Xiar, sir.”  The boy looked very much like a scale covered human from Earth, but the tail was definitely a difference.  He was dressed in a new cadet uniform made from Telleron synthesizers.  “Your people have saved us from death.  You are feeding us.  We owe you a life-debt and will serve you to the very end.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Galtorrian children we found here are all refugees from the planetary war,” said Commander Biznap.  “They were starving to death until Farbick found them and fed them.”

“Our masters were keeping us around so they could eat us when all the food was gone,” said Jahzpuhr.  “You have given us more than we could ever have hoped for, and we are grateful.”

“Well, I am just happy you didn’t eat Farbick, or any of us.  I do need to take this base for my people, however.”

“The base is not ours, sir, Captain Xiar, sir.  It belonged to Overlord Bahbahr the merchant prince.  We will evacuate at once if you desire it.”   The boy said it with a look in his eyes that told Xiar he was really begging to stay.

“Nonsense.  You will stay here and work for us.  If you do your jobs well, we will reward you.  And you can certainly live here among us.  You are all mere children, right?  And there is to be no eating of Tellerons?”

“We will be faithful, sir, Captain Xiar, sir.”

“I like how polite you are,” Xiar replied, “and I definitely appreciate the no eating of Tellerons thing… but you don’t have to keep calling me sir, Captain Xiar, sir.  Your majesty will be fine… or your ultimate gracious highness… or maybe just Captain.  OK?”

“Yes, sir, Captain Xiar, sir.”

“Not a very quick learner, huh, Biznap?”

“No, sir, he is not.  None of the lizard children seem particularly bright.  But they do work hard and they have some skills in the construction department.   They will be useful.”

“And your Earther wife, Harmony, can teach them all that Bible nonsense, eh?  Instead of me?”

“She will appreciate more souls to save for Jeezis, or whoever it is,” said Biznap, “but she didn’t let up on me just because she had the rest of you to preach to.  She has a sincere faith, and a very large capacity for curing un-taught heathens of their heathen-ness.”

“Is there any way to track them and get them back?  Particularly Harmony and Shalar, I mean?”

“I will take a wing and go after them, but knowing Harmony, she will not slow down without finding and rescuing the lost tadpoles first.”

“That’s too bad.  I really miss Shalar.”

“And your missing tadpoles too, I suppose?”

Xiar tried to remember which ones those were that they were talking about.  “Yes, them too, I suppose.”

****

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July 31, 2017 · 2:49 pm

Holding Patterns

Sometimes you have to fly in big circles waiting for terrible things to pass.  If you don’t wait… if you rush in unprepared… then you go down in flames.

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The problem is that the pirates from Bank of America finally came through with their offer to settle my debt.  Sixty per cent of $13,000 in four payments over the next four months.  I have an appointment tomorrow to talk with my lawyer about bankruptcy.  It is expensive in this country to become poor.  And if you are poor, you have no other option.  At least, if I can manage three more bankruptcies by the time I’m 70, I will be qualified to run for president.

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Life is definitely a lot like Moose Bowling.  It is a simple game.  In order to win, you only have to knock down all ten pins in one throw.  The hard part is that you have to throw a moose to knock the pins down.  Did you know that the average weight of an adult moose is 1800 pounds, or 820 kilograms?  That’s a lot of moose meat to fling with my arthritic 60-year-old moose-throwing muscles.  My flabber is totally gasted by that.

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So, as I swiftly rise from prosperity to poverty, the ultimate fate of most old school teachers, it is probably a good thing that I have decided to become a nudist.  At least I will save money on buying clothes.

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