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Tuesday, November 8th 2016
Audie Cockings
The rural vote is showing up!
Posted Tue Nov 8 2016 11:48
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We deployed our brood of six to the polls early today, at 8:30 am, where there was already a line 90 minutes long! When we finally left the parking lot at 10:30, the line was doubled up and still out the door!
This is a positive sign and for good reason. Four years ago, much of the rural population stayed home. There was no wait at the two polling stations in our district. Folks were unenthusiastic and simply chose to disengage.
But this year looks to be different from here in agrarian Maryland. Yes, Maryland will still be solid blue. But if what I see here is a reflection of country mice across this nation, and the conservatives in the outlying counties and the tiny corners of the USA come out to cast a ballot, then this could be an indicator of a positive outcome in the much needed swing states.
I'd be interested in hearing what's going on in other parts of our beautiful country. Please post a snapshot if you can!
Sunday, October 30th 2016
Marina Fontaine
Posted Sun Oct 30 2016 22:15
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Sometime in early September, I came across apostlamenting the state of conservative/pro-freedom storytelling in general and cinema in particular. Machine Trooper writes:
"How is it that smart, hardworking, independent thinkers are consistently outperformed at cinematic storytelling by the left-wing hive mind? Why do ourmovies always suffer poor story telling, cheesy dialog and generally inept suspension of disbelief?"
How, indeed. There are, after all, plenty of talented writers who share our views (even if many of them are still hiding their opinions in order to develop and/or preserve their careers). And there are certainly wealthy individuals out there willing to contribute money to what we loosely call pro-freedom causes. So if it's not the talent, and not the money, what then? If you scroll down in the comments, you will see my answer: lack of networking. The full solution is a bit more complicated because there is work still to be done on the writing side as well if we are to keep going long-term. We need to nurture pro-freedom writing talent, and then to connect our storytellers with those who can help them make the stories more accessible to the masses. And much as I love the written word, nowadays it also means the movies.
As luck would have it, only two days later after making that comment, I attended a kickoff party for Calliope Writers' Workshop, co-sponsored by Taliesin Nexus and Liberty Island I am happy to report that an effort so many of us have wished for does already exist, and picking up steam.
From Taliesin Nexuswebsite: "In order to encourage the creation of great stories, we serve as a nexus between up-and-coming filmmakers and experienced industry professionals who share a passion for a free society."
It was truly great to see that Liberty Island, an online magazine (and now a book publisher) that gave me a start and an inspiration for writing fiction, is also a part of this exciting venture.
And exciting really is the word. As I stood in that room at Crowne Plaza Hotel in NYC, surrounded by a buzzing crowd of creatives of all ages and those with vision to give them voice, I realized a few things. The time for complaining and wishing has passed. The time for stifling our creativity for the sake of acceptance has passed. We have the talent, the drive, and the energy to succeed. Combined with the infrastructure that is even now being built, piece by piece, one dedicated mentor, one generous investor, one contrarian marketing professional at a time, we will get there. Our voices will be heard, our stories read, our vision shared. Let's get to work, people. We have a culture to build.
You STILL don't get it. Please stop. It's irritating.
Posted Sun Oct 30 2016 17:37
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Have you seen these ads?
The intent of the billboards is to (supposedly) get people off the couch and to the polls. Thoughtfully addressing the yin and yang of the populace so that everybody votes...even those who are entirely uninformed regarding platform or policy...or labels.
Votetocount.com formally assumes the Swiss position on their website, stating that there is no political motivation behind these signs. They attempt to offer opposing positions on each advertisement, then affirm that despite our differences (which are rarely so black and white) that we are all voters, the only label that counts.
But in trying to dispel labels, Votetocount.com actually does a better job at further labeling folks and confirming mainstream misinformation regarding our differences.
First of all, we are not all voters. Voter turn out for the 2008 election was less than 63%, and that was high.
And the sign above that is supposed to be the blending of two opposite ideologies is just irritating. Of course veterans are patriotic and peace-loving! The two go hand-in-hand! The hippy-dippies got nothin' on those who serve or those who love them...patiently waiting for our men and women in uniform to come home, hopefully intact. No one prays for peace in this world more than they do.
But apparently, nobody involved with this ad series actually know any vets.
Last weekend, my husband went to Texas for a long overdue memorial service to celebrate the life and service of a buddy. This dear friend of 20+ years ran towards a suicide bomber in order to save those behind him. Many guests at the memorial also served our nation in uniform. Each of those men are not only patriotic, but also peace-loving voters. No irony there.
If only the left could wrap their heads around the concept of sacrifice or why our warriors do it. But they are too engrossed in civic consumerism to understand selflessness--all take and no give. Seeking entitlements the U.S. taxpayer owes them just for being born here.
Tuesday, October 18th 2016
Channeling my inner "Feisty"
Posted Tue Oct 18 2016 13:57
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After much internal dialogue and self-centered arguing between my left and right brains, in May, I decided to return to my field, the work I did prior to making my little people.
This was a tough decision. As much as I love creating characters and exchanges between them, I needed to re-up my credentials or lose them forever.
I would have to write into the wee hours like I did when I first started--Putting words together if only to amuse myself. I'd laugh so hard that I'd wake my poor husband who's response was always, "You're so weird. Go to sleep." But as my mother says, "There are worse things in life than enjoying one's own company." She also makes herself laugh when nobody's looking.
This morning I was studying for a clinical exam that will take place next Wednesday. A two-hundred and forty minute test...staring into a computer in a hard plastic chair...hoping to get at least 80% or I will not only be humiliated, but will lose my nice, new job that was offered only because I'd easily passed the same exam twice in the past. Of course, that was when I only had two kids and my husband was home during the week.
As a sat, reading an 800-page book of not-so-light reading, I began to stare off, focusing on a field beyond the French doors in my study. Two perfectly fragile white butterflies were playing hide-and-seek between persimmon poppies framing a gray weathered outbuilding that could be toppled over with the slightest hint of a nor'easter.
As I took in the butterflies, I couldn't help but smile and watch for several minutes-- That is, until my little slice of paradise was interrupted by what sounded like a screeching raccoon throw-down.
But it wasn't raccoons. It was two of my hens doing Kung-Fu Panda moves on each other. Only, one of the hens was about five pounds (Heavy-weight) and the other less breasty hen, about three (Bantam weight).
Poor Clementine. Since she was born she was a rather scared and pathetic little bird. She's at the bottom of the pecking order and well-may have put herself there by submitting too much from the get go. She's always eaten after the other chickens have had their full and she'll run away if another chicken even starts to glance at her sideways. Worse yet, she's molting and only half covered. Poor thing looks scrawny and homeless.
The noise got bigger, so I ran outside and over to the chicken run, increasingly faster as feathers flew and one bird pummeled another.
A French hen (Gloria) had decided that little Clem would be her *%$#% today. And by the time I got the gate open and shut, Clem was shaking, hiding in bramble as Gloria taunted her, bouncing atop of the mess of tree branches and thorny brush, trying to get Clem out from hiding. Clem was TKO yet Gloria pounced from atop the ropes with the hopes of an ever-victorious rematch.
Chickens aren't known for being especially empathetic. They often pick at (and ultimately kill and feast on) other sick birds. They snap at each other and even push other hens out of a nesting box if the residing bird isn't birthing an egg fast enough to suit the next in line. Chickens are opportunists.
But today, one of my hens went against popular chicken psychology. She challenged dinosaur DNA and pack mentality to come to Clem's aid. "Fiesty" our Barred Rock who easily weighs that of a full-sized Tom (turkey, not Thomas), had tired of Gloria's antics and initiated an offense that sent Gloria herself, into hiding. When Gloria emerged from under the coop to torment Clem a little more, Feisty jumped on her again, biting the back of Gloria's throat, helping along the molting process. Gloria indeed looks like a plucked chicken now.
I was proud of Fiesty, a bird that's always seemed more glutton than guardian to me. But today she taught me that even the most age-old behaviors can be modified, given the proper catalyst. Despite the fact that her inherent primal drive tells her to join in and pick on the weak, Feisty chose to do the right thing. She doesn't especially like Clem, but she defended Clem because it was the right thing to do.
Doing the right thing is something I'm struggling with today. I'm charged with choosing someone I loathe to save the future of our Supreme Court. Voting for a pig is not what I'm wired to do, but it's the right thing for my kids and our nation.
So I will plug my nose, channel my inner Feisty, stand up, and fight.
Paul Hair
Update on the next Mortal Gods story.
Posted Tue Oct 18 2016 12:19
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"Sodom by the Susquehanna" is one of the next Mortal Gods stories I am writing. And I have mostly completed its outline.
Liberate Liberty provided a brief synopsis of "Sodom by the Susquehanna" in late September. Since that time I have completed the basic outline of the story. I have the plot in place along with most or all of the scenes. I still need to edit and refine some of the outline but I think it contains all of the elements I need so that I can soon start writing the manuscript.
Liberate Liberty will continue providing updates on "Sodom by the Susquehanna" as well as updates for other original stories I am writing.
Originally posted at Liberate Liberty.
Monday, October 3rd 2016
David Dubrow
We've gone from Good vs. Evil to Us vs. Evil. Time to change that.
Posted Mon Oct 3 2016 08:14
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On the terrific website Scifi and Scary, I wrote a guest post on God and supernatural horror:
Supernatural horror has turned away from its roots, replacing the traditional battle of Good vs. Evil with Us vs. Evil. In large part this is reflective of cultural trends; mainstream writers and movie makers tend to take their thematic cues from the less-religious metropolitan areas of the East and West Coasts, which drive culture more than flyover country. The replacement of an objective power of Good with expedience, the need to survive, has dulled the effectiveness of the genre of supernatural horror, reducing vampires to fanged superhumans and Hell-born demons to savage mutants.
Read the rest at Scifi and Scary!
Monday, September 26th 2016
Posted Mon Sep 26 2016 14:19
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Some people insist blockbuster movie franchises are always the same.
Do you agree, or are you just tired of people making that complaint? Either way, worry no more. Here are five daring ways to shake up movie franchises and make them exciting again.
Some of the following suggestions might be cost or otherwise prohibitive. Yet where there's a will, there's a way.
Have Franchise Sequels Be in Different Genres
Say I create the first movie of an action franchise. The film is a hit, and people immediately clamor for a sequel. So what do I do? I make an action-free drama, focusing on who the hero is, why he does what he does and what his personal life is like. The sequel is completely set in the real world and entirely different from the first story.
For instance, say someone would make a movie of my upcoming story, "Sodom by the Susquehanna," which will feature plenty of action and would cost millions to make. And say that movie proved a success. What should the sequel be?
RELATED: How Hating 'Preacher' Inspired Mortal Response
How about a small tale looking at the life of one of the characters? Show his unrequited love for the girl of his dreams. How does he deal with the depression that follows? How does it impact his character? And what is the resolution?
The sequel would be cheap, yet character and franchise recognition would be huge. The curiosity factor would be big, too. What other movie franchise went small for its sequel? End result: a massively profitable movie--especially when compared with the production cost of your typical blockbuster.
Subsequent franchise entries could bring back the action. But there would also be room for horror, comedy, suspense, romance and so forth in the series.
Wouldn't that be a fun franchise to watch?
Have the Bad Guy Win
There isn't anything new about having the protagonist lose in a film. But it would be a novel idea for a blockbuster movie franchise.
Think about it: who would expect that to happen? Furthermore, once a franchise goes this route, it has now established that a win isn't guaranteed for the good guys in future installments.
And how many more people do you think a franchise would draw now that no one knows how the stories are going to end? And how much richer does it make the other installments when the good guys do emerge victorious? . . .
Read the rest at Hollywood in Toto.
Thursday, September 22nd 2016
Abortion affects mothers, babies, AND fathers.
Posted Thu Sep 22 2016 13:29
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Anthony Perry's A Father's Choice: A Memoir of Love, Loss and Hope is brief, but shines a brilliant spotlight onto an important and timely issue. The narrative describes more of the lead-up than the aftermath, providing an emphasis on healing over recrimination. Third-wave feminism's domination of the issue typically shunts stories like Perry's off to the side, which makes this an important book.
Abortion doesn't just affect the woman undergoing the procedure (let alone the baby being killed), but also the baby's father, who is often considered irrelevant to the mother's decision-making process. Even if he desperately wants to keep the baby, as Perry makes clear, the prevailing narrative is that abortion is the mother's choice, and the mother's choice only. There's a terrible, powerless inevitability to Perry's memoir that makes this a difficult read, but not difficult enough. Between the pointless fight scene in the last third and the strange non-reaction to Jenny's horrible admission, the impact is somewhat muffled, putting distance between the reader and the events.
Whether you're pro-life or pro-choice, you owe it to yourself to read this book. Too often we read about fatherless homes and deadbeat dads; here's a grim story of fatherhood denied.
(I've written about turning from pro-choice to pro-life here.)
Monday, September 19th 2016
David Churchill Barrow
Answer: They were both, by the grace of God, bullet-proof.
Posted Mon Sep 19 2016 12:22
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As a young militia officer and aide-de-camp to the ill-fated General Braddock at the Battle of the Monongahela, George Washington had three horses shot out from under him and four bullet holes through his coat. His friend, Dr. James Craik, later said "I expected every moment to see him fall. Nothing but the superintending care of Providence could have saved him." Every single mounted officer was killed or wounded that day, yet his flesh saw not a scratch from musket ball, knife or tomahawk.
Years later, coming off his suprise victory at Trenton, Washington evaded Cornwallis and attacked Princeton. Riding up to his faltering line he rallied his men. He led them forward on a white charger, and at less than 30 yards from the redcoat line he gave the order to fire, while he was in front of them, and at the same time as a volley was fired from the British line. One American officer pulled his hat down over his eyes to avoid the horror of seeing the Commander-in-chief blown out of his saddle, but when he raised his eyes again as the smoke cleared, there was Washington, yelling"Parade with us my brave fellows!" as he led the counter-charge to victory.
Lest we consider this to be aberrant behavior, Washington pulled the same stunt upon arriving at the front during the battle of Monmouth. Again, not so much as a scratch.
Wyatt Earp is, of course, most famous for what came to be called the gunfight at the OK Corral. Most people know that three cowboys were sent into eternity that October afternoon, but did you know that Wyatt was the only participant bullets did not touch? Virgil was shot in the calf, Morgan had a very dangerous wound across his back at the shoulder blades, and even Doc Holiday got skinned at the hip by a shot. Some say it was because Wyatt stood still during the fight. In a multi-gun battle, people tend to shoot at what's moving.
A fluke? perhaps... But then we have the death of "Curly Bill" Brocious. Curly Bill and some cowboys ambushed Wyatt's posse near Iron Springs, Arizona. Instantly seeing a cross-fire setup, Doc Holiday, "Texas Jack" Vermillion and "Turkey Creek Jack" Johnson lit out. Not Wyatt... With bullets whizzing all about he calmly dismounted, only to realize he had loosened his gun belt for ease of riding, and it was now around his thighs. He cinched that back up around his waist, and reached around his horse for a double-barreled shotgun he had hitched to his saddle. Curly Bill spotted him, and advanced with his own shotgun. Curly Bill fired first, but in his haste had not brought the barrel up far enough, and the pellets went harmlessly all around Wyatt's legs. Wyatt carefully leveled his own gun, pulled both triggers and nearly cut Bill in half. When the smoke cleared, Wyatt had a bullet hole through the heel of his boot, the pommel of his saddle had been blown off, and his duster was shredded by buckshot. Again not a scratch, not even in the legs. Not then and not ever during his long life did a bullet touch him.
Given our history it is easy to understand the "hand of Providence" saving George Washington for purposes preordained, if one is of such a faith. But why Wyatt? Perhaps it is because legends crystallize culture - if you doubt that, read Homer. In later life Wyatt set out to create his own legend, and met with little success, until he found a writer named Stuart Lake. Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshalhad little to offer the "objective" historian, but it went far in preserving the Old West as an essential element of what it means to be an American. And to those who hate us and everything we stand for, there is only one thing left to be said:
"Yippee-ki-yay, m------ f-----...."
Tuesday, September 13th 2016
Mainely Maine
Posted Tue Sep 13 2016 22:07
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Being landlocked never agreed with me. Lakes are nice but they don't have the smell, bounties, or leather-skinned skippers in big rubber pants. The salty blue blankets that connect the continents are vast and still somewhat unexplored, which makes oceans all the more intriguing.
Some may find the briny scent of ocean a little potent, but when I smell saltwater I immediately think of how wonderful crustaceans taste when steamed in that very same brackish water.
Being a mother of four little ones leaves little time for the one-on-one that children so desparately need. And that need, if unmet, triggers all sorts of unsavory behavior. And it's not just girls that are the drama queens. I get it from all four at once, so much so that you'd think they were coordinating meltdowns, perfectly executing them in thirty-minute intervals.
So when the opportunity arose (thank you frequent flyer miles!) and a room I've been eyeballing from afar had two seats and a bed available, I ran it by the boss then promptly booked a quick weekend away with the first in line and most unreasonable: Our tween. I took her to my favorite place on the East Coast, Down East Maine.
There are many reasons to love the state of Maine. The first one is obvious to anyone who's ever flown out of Bangor International Airport...you can get from rental car return, through security, and to your gate in just under ten minutes. Yes, there is such a magical place. And get this--everyone who works there smiles and means it.
If you are a deployed member of the armed forces, there will be thankful people there to greet you when you get home (tired and hungry) from Afghanistan or Iraq. In 2010, "Maine Greeters" welcomed home their millionth service member.
When you first leave the airport, you will undoubtedly notice how courteous the other drivers are. This is outright suspicious behavior by East Coast standards. Driving up 95 is a torment until you cross from New Hampshire into Maine. Speaking of New Hampshire, my rental car was tagged there and half of Maine stopped me to ask where in New Hampshire I was from. For the first time in my life, I was embarrassed to be from expensive, angry, liberal, Maryland. (Maryland isn't actually bad at all unless compared with Maine).
Then there's the abundance of seafood restaurants and I know good seafood. I was crabbing before I was out of diapers. Very few folks have had truly fresh, well prepared ocean critters. This is an empirically sound estimation illustrated by the 700+ thriving Red Lobster restaurants serving lobster bisque made from langoustine, not lobster. Yet nobody noticed.
The scenery in Down East Maine has no equal. There are hundreds of small islands to explore by boat and mountainous backdrops to hike. Trademark blue toadstool-sized sanctuaries dot the various bays and sounds offer the most soothing, restful palette that one perpetually sleepy mother of four could ever want.
Best part? When you do sleep, one can open all the windows and feel a cool breeze as you swaddle yourself in blankets and inhale the clean...then smile when your husband calls around lunchtime, lamenting the 100 degree temps in Maryland with 80% humidity. Little did he know, you were dangling your legs over a pier in 76 degrees, stuffing your face with local Maine crab and drinking iced tea (or a local beer).
Maine is a quirky state with leaders who possess a stout personal constitution. Her current governor, Paul LaPage, recently challenged a critic accusing him of racism, to a duel. LaPage is a Republican, but I saw more Gary Johnson bumperstickers, banners, and Libertarian signs in Maine, then for Hillary Clinton. That was perhaps the most exciting part of my trip. I had heard of the Libertarian species but hadn't considered the party a genuine contender until last weekend. I was also driving a rental with New Hampshire plates. Coincidence?
There are too many wonderful things to mention about Maine in one post, so I'll end it with the fact that native Maine dwellers are hard-working burly folks with adorable accents and warm, laid back attitudes. They do the speed limit, trust you until they learn not to, and extend a handshake to both open and close a deal.
A few suggestions for your trip to Down East Maine (go now!):
Lodging- Try HomeAway.com or Airbnb. My favorite little place is in West Brooksville called Tapley Farm. For $125 a night you get a cozy two-floor apartment, complete privacy, and two on-site beaches to comb or upgrade to a large free-standing cottage and bring the kiddos, in-laws, and pooches.
Blue Hill is a little hamlet with fantastic shops, galleries, a co-op grocer, distillery, Black Dinah chocolates, and a public beach/ boat launch that makes for the best lunch spot i've ever encountered. Paddleboard or kayak the glassy waters of the inlet then get a great lobster roll at "The Fishnet" down the street. After lunch, visit the world renowned Wooden Boat School in nearby Brooklin. I met a long-retired Frenchman over a lobster roll who was in town for two weeks to learn to build wooden boats with age-old techniques.
For dinner, meet the chowder that changed my life. It's Maine Seafood Chowder at Fisherman's Friend in Stonington, the village that launched a thousand seascape paintings. I've never had such delicious seafood soup in my entire life. Enough said.
The best coffee I had in Maine was also in Stonington, at a roaster called "44". Try the "Royal Tar" pour over coffee. It was ridiculous. They also have homemade sweets that would have found a home in my belly had not it been for the somewhat metabolized shellfish already bubbling in there.
For a great spot to watch the boats come in try the village of Castine, a lovely cliff-side town of revolution-era homes and the home-base for the Maine Maritime Academy. Dennett's Wharf has the best waterside patio and a decent Haddock sandwich, although people mostly go there for oysters, beer, and atmosphere. Also be sure to make an appointment to watch local woodturner, Temple Blackwood, make magic from curled wood--then grab a (whole, delicious!) mixed berry pie at Windmill Hill market for dessert.
I guess I need to mention Mount Desert Island here. Acadia National Park is indeed beautiful, fun to hike, bike, and shopping in Bar Harbor is a paradise for someone like my mudder-in-law who loves to buy stuff. But beyond a fun Christmas store, a notable tea proveyer, and a great gallery, the best part about the island is the wild blueberry pancakes at Mainly Meat at Dreamwood Hill. They were epic. I've never woofed down a pancake like that in my life and here's the last bite (that I thought about the entire rest of the day):
Off-season pricing began last week and fall is the best time to go to Down East Maine. Southwest has specials flying into Portland, Maine, requiring a couple hour's drive to reach Blue Hill, or fly directly into Bangor on Delta.