It's a Mystery Man

 Here I am, in Books-A-Million, holding a treasured prize!

What's special about this issue of Alfred's Mystery Magazine?

Why, my name is in it!

Sounds impressive, don't it?

Well, there are some caveats. 

First, it's just my name. I am an honorable mention in a story contest. Only the winning entry is published.

So, this is part of my big dream, but not all of it.

I have not yet had a story published in a pulp fiction magazine (currently, the big four are Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine, and Analog Science Fiction). That part of the dream has not yet been realized.

Also, please note that I am hardly the only honorable mention. There are ten; for all I know, that may be everybody who entered.  

To further dampen things, they release the magazine's circulation figures on the next page. Many numbers are listed, but the bottom line is that the total circulation is around 10,000 (about 40% being mail subscriptions). With a US population of around 335 million, about .003%* of the population gets this magazine.

Well, ok. Nevertheless, I am proud. It's a big step for me in the right direction.

I am writing a story for the next contest.

I am editing a story I wrote a decade or two ago.

And I am creating a new story centered on an 1880s gothic girl!

As my pal Superman says, "Never give up! Never Surrender!"

Something like that. That could be Winston Churchill.

Nevertheless, the sentiment stands!

*math could change depending on if I did it wrong

Dreaming of an Alternate Path

 

Last night, I had a dream.

A dream that the world was a beautiful and diverse place with love and tolerance for all. A place, while diverse, was also united in our common humanity, ready to tackle the biggest problems, including saving our globe from the devasting effects of climate change.  

Pooling our resources and knowledge to mitigate and reverse its horrible ravaging of our planet. Not in becoming hoarders and exploiting those who possess what we feel we want. Screw the others. Just take what we want, and damn the long-term consequences.

I dreamed that all the cautionary tales about the coming of the Kingdom would not occur because we made patriotic choices not to follow the Christian Reich path.

I dreamed of universal healthcare, affordable schooling, libraries free of extremist pressure, billionaires being a thing of the past, and woke becoming a symbol of virtue rather than derision.

Then my dream ended, and I awoke with a start.

The world is burning, and morons are blaming DEI.  

The Convicted Felon is not a Christian, but that is not stopping him from aligning himself with them to get what he wants. And that's anything and everything he wants for himself and his billionaire buddies. He is a soulless person, without caring or conscious. He really doesn't even like his billionaire buddies - they are just tools to acquire more for himself.

The Kingdom stories envision a splintering of the United States, with the bulk of the conservative states forming their own nation, The Kingdom. Another country from America's West Coast is identified in the stories as Pacifica. Consider what is happening now, with the possibility that western Canada and the same western states could form Cascadia.

The Kingdom lives as a potential projection. And it terrifies me.

Why does Donny Diaper want Canada and Greenland? Some call it a distraction. But what if it's not?

What if he is lying to us (surprise!) and knows global warming is real? There are vast resources under the ice in Greenland and Northern Canada - minerals and metals, oil and natural gas, tons of riches. What if he's decided that as these area's ice covering melts, he wants him and his buddies to control those resources?

He doesn't want to take over those lands because he wants to benefit the natives in any way, nor does he really care about national security. No. He wants to possess them and strip them for parts, just like a private equity pirate.

Just like his grandfather wanted to do, coming over from Germany and trying to make his fortune in Alaska and the Northwest Territories. Of course, Friedrich (Drumpf) Trump did not accomplish a fortune in gold, but he did establish taverns with gambling and whores. Yes, that is where the Trump fortune started.

I can still dream. I only wish I could make it so.

For the sake of my children and granddaughter, as dim as the future looks, I pray that we can emerge from this dark time.

Welcome to the New Year

 

Welcome to the New Year.

Do I have resolutions?

Not many. Love my family. Love being a Christian Progressive. Embrace and support those who are daring to stand up to the political morass we have descended into, and defend those who are going to be prosecuted by the Christian Reich who are in control.

Strive to prioritize my health so that I can stay active and contribute.

Make this the year that I am a published author. Yes, I have some self-published books and this blog, but nothing where someone has paid me for a story or book.  

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He's not President yet, and it's already horrifying. Much worse than I even imagined, and that's hard to do, believe me.

He's told you he was lying about lowering grocery prices. He likes the type of visa that brings foreigners over to do skilled jobs, such as computer programming, and do it at lower pay than Americans. He is not going to stop the desire of Republicans to slash and even eliminate Social Security. Medicare and other programs to help the indigent and working poor. 

He's mouthing off about taking over Greenland, the Panama Canal, and even Canada. He's mumbled about a "soft invasion" of Mexico. And all of y'all Orangeteers are okay with that?  

You know who else started his leadership with talks of taking over neighboring countries? Hitler. I don't give a damn whether you think the comparison is offensive or not. If the jackboots fit...

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It's getting harder and harder to find social media (and mainstream media) that hasn't been subsumed by billionaire supporters of the Orange conman. Twitter/X has been taken over by an egomaniac who is walking proof of why wealth consolidation is evil. Jeff Bezos is ruining Amazon and The Washington Post trying to make come to life the Post's slogan - Democracy Dies in Darkness - as he slowly turns out the lights. Mark Zuckerberg is eliminating fact checkers, ready to let the MAGATs run roughshod over Facebook, Threads, and Instagram. TikTok is set to be shuttered in about 10 days unless it is saved by being purchased by yet another Trump-loving billionaire.

The same thing is happening on our broadcasters and streamers. One by one, they are showing fealty to the one true moron.  

The biggest lunacy I hear is when my reich-wing friends talk about the liberal media.

HA!

On social media, we are left with Bluesky. On cable, MSNBC has a few liberal hosts, particularly in primetime, but they may soon change. Streamers comprise of Media Touch and a few other smaller organizations.

Liberal media domination, my sweet petunia!

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I hope to post when I can in 2025. Most of my writing efforts will be off-blog as I try to tempt the markets with my incredible prose.

For those who want light and fluffy, who don't want to see political rants - too bad, so sad.  

I have no intent on staying silent in the face of fascism.

Until next time, if I'm permitted to still speak out,

T. M. Strait

Pardon Me?

 

Oh, my lawdy! I'm starting to get the vapors!

President Biden pardoned his son, Hunter!

What ugly, brutal miscarriage of justice is this?

And don't forget! He PROMISED us he wouldn't do it!

Just because multiple Presidents in the past have pardoned relatives (Abraham Lincoln, Bill Clinton, Donald Trump) doesn't allow Biden to do the same. He had declared repeatedly that he wouldn't do it.

Me? I don't really care. It doesn't affect my opinion of Biden one way or another.

Why did he change his mind?

Biden's earlier declaration was based on a series of misinterpretations and errors in judgment.

1) I think he really thought Kamala Harris would win. It was not a huge mistake. I fully expected her to win as well. We both over-relied on the common decency of the American people.

Oops.

The idea here is that there would be little value in viciously pursuing a President's son, especially for crimes that most are rarely prosecuted for and virtually where no one goes to jail.

2) He then thought that with the Orange fascist in control, he would have little desire to pursue vendettas. I mean, really, what was there in the con man's character to lead you to believe that he would waste his time demolishing opponents he had beaten?

Oops.

3) It would look bad as to their stand against the criminal clown, making it look like they were just like him.

As if he would care.

Oops.

Cut to current times.

King Fool has been accumulating the worst collection of cabinet nominees in the history of ever - billionaires, sexual assaulters, fraudsters, criminals, those who want to destroy the department they head, and on and on. It's embarrassing, really. But I guess MAGA is no longer capable of being embarrassed. It's a cult, worshipping at the feet of their criminal overlord, not a political party.

In that tone, it becomes clear that Mister Vicious is dead serious about retribution. His FBI selection, Kash Patel, has an actual hit list of people who have committed NO CRIME other than stand up to the unholy narcissist-in-chief. MAGA congress members want to prosecute everyone involved in the J6 committee - including witnesses.

Biden had to see this monstrous march to prosecutorial insanity and decided he had to get his son out of the way.

Under that steady stream of vile bile?

I WOULD EFFING ABSOLUTELY DO THE SAME!

The reaction to this shouldn't be "Heavens to Murgatroyd! How dare that man pardon his son after telling us he wouldn't do it!"

It should be, "Why did he do it? Because an unholy s---storm is coming our way! Anyone who doesn't bend the knee will be destroyed!"

Look at Joe and Mika of Morning Joe. They groveled all the way to Mar-A-Lago and, in the process, demolished their feeble little morning show. But you know what? Maybe they feared what standing up to him would mean. Fear led them to choose safety over courage.

And we are going to see this repeated over and over again.

This is how fascists win.

I don't blame Biden for saving his son. It may not be the only pardon to come. He may have to protect many who have committed no crime but will have their lives consumed anyway.

Yeah. There's a lot I could say, but I'll leave it to other posts. One biggie is when MAGAs try to compare the pretend crimes of those who stand against him to the REAL crimes of the Orange Buffoon.

Yeah. It's going to be a rough four years.

The Cleansing of the Soles: Mysterious Photograph #2

 Everybody has dreams. 

One of mine was to see my name as an author in a pulp fiction magazine.  I was reading Worlds of If and Fantastic Stories from when I was as young as 8, buying them for 35 cents.  I fantasized about what it would be like to have a story published in them one day.

Sixty-one years later, I still dream about it.  What feeble efforts I made over the years were ignored and easily swatted away,

But I'm not giving up.  I have found a contest in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, a short (flash fiction) story based on a "mysterious photograph."

My first submission, One Small Step, did not win.  It did not receive honorable mention.

Nevertheless, I persist.

I submitted the story below. my second attempt.

I am pleased to report that it was runner-up, and my name will be in the January/February issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine! 

So, part of my dream has been accomplished!  The story itself won't be, but my name will be in a pulp magazine, and for writing!

This reinvigorates me to keep trying, that maybe there is some merit to my writing!

And now, for the winning runner-up!

The Cleansing of the Soles

by T. M. Strait 

It had to be you. Of all the people to walk into my basement, it had to be Marvin. Restraining order be damned – there you were.

“Get out!’ I shouted. “You can’t be here!”

“Yes, I can! I don’t care what the lawyers say! This is my house, and I’m taking it back!” Marvin moved menacingly toward me, a bat in his hands.

Enough of his belittling and abuse! I’d had my fill. Rather than cower, I surprised him by rushing toward him, my arms in front of me. I took advantage of his confusion, and I knocked him down. He fell heavily, his head crunching on the concrete basement step.

He didn’t move. “Marvin? Are you okay?”  I kicked him, but he didn’t respond. I checked for breath. There was none. A pool of blood under his head seeped out to redden the gray of the step.

Marvin would never threaten me again. It wasn’t easy, but I stuffed his body in the freezer. I mopped up the blood. I thought I was done when I noticed the blood on the bottom of my sneaker.

In a panic, I took off my shoes, and threw them to the washer.

I needed to be done with this.  I wanted the last remnant of Marvin off of me.

I wanted to wash that man right out of my sole.

One Small Step: Mysterious Photograph #1

Everybody has dreams. 

One of mine was to see my name as an author in a pulp fiction magazine.  I was reading Worlds of If and Fantastic Stories from when I was as young as 8, buying them for 35 cents.  U fantasized about what it would be like to have a story published in them one day.

Sixty-one years later, I still dream about it.  What feeble efforts I made over the years were ignored and easily swatted away,

But I'm not giving up.  I have found a contest in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, a short (flash fiction) story based on a "mysterious photograph."

I submitted the story below.  I did not win the grand prize of $25.  I did not get honorable mention.

Nevertheless, I persist.

I have submitted two more stories since.  I've heard nothing back, but I am determined not to give up.  Like a monkey in front of a typewriter, someday I may stumble out a winning entry.

Meanwhile, as I lose, I will continue to post out my losing entries as the deadline passes.

One Small Step

by T. M. Strait

I don't always think things out. Rob the Scherba Museum's space exhibit of its rare Martian rocks? Not a bad idea. Hiding in a spacesuit until closing? Not so much.

Lisa got me into the suit and convinced others it was part of the show. Near closing, she told them she needed to take me to a backroom to remove the suit.

Instead, she left me in the suit, kissing me for luck, leaving bright red lipstick on the face glass.

I waited several hours after closing, timing my exhibit exploration with the security guard's routine.

The rocks lay on a Martian landscape, including a Mars Rover. Lisa's app neutralized the lasers protecting it. I filled the suit's pockets with valuable rocks. Lisa's fence thought we could get millions!

I left the museum and went into the streets behind it. Lisa was to meet me and help me out of the suit, 

But there was no Lisa. I waited. And waited.

Dawn approached. Where was she?

I heard a ding from inside the suit. A voice said, "Ten minutes air remaining."

What? I had no idea how to get out of this suit. I screamed for Lisa.

I don't know if she heard me, but suddenly she was skipping towards me. She smiled, reaching into my spacesuit pockets, gathering the Mars rocks. I couldn't hear her, but she was dancing and making happy noises. She mouthed the words, "Thank you!"

And she danced away.

Nope. Didn't think that part out.

Thanksgiving in the New Era

 Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

In the past, I have blogged a list of 31 things I am thankful for, revising it each year for any changes.

That's very tough to do this year.

It's not that I don't have plenty to be grateful for. I am thankful for my family, my friends, our health, our pets, my church, and many of my church family.

I am thankful that my son, Benjamin, and our friend, Anita Lynn, will be with us for Thanksgiving.

There are many personal things that I am thankful for.

But it is difficult to be completely thankful when the nation that I love so much has had its happiness and future snatched away from us.

It's difficult to live in a county where 89% of the voters chose the orange fascist.

I won't go into all the many ways that this unfortunate decision will affect us in the US and around the globe. I'll have plenty of other posts about that.

I wish I could be like so many who have decided to cut these poisonous people from their lives. I'm doing it to the extent that I can. But it's not easy when the view that thinks this is okay is dominant here. That this was just another election, and why can't we all be friends.

As many have clarified, it's not a difference in politics; it's a base difference in morality. And that is hard to get around.

I'm doing the best I can. Thankfully, I no longer have to work in an environment filled with his supporters.  

Tomorrow, I have to go into the Lion's Den and have a Thanksgiving meal with relatives who support him. If I was a stronger person, I would refuse to go there. But I can't do that. It's not in me. But I  will do my best to minimize interaction beyond what is needed to be polite.

Some who read this blog may wonder when it will turn to a broader range of topics—family, nostalgia, movies/TV/books/theatre, etc.

Maybe that will come in time.

But right now, there is too much anger and fear and rage.  

I can't let it go. To do so would be to surrender to fascism and to accede to the immorality of the narcissist in chief.

If that bothers you, then cut me off. Because it's not going to stop.

I can't let it go.

As dark as times are, I refuse to stop lighting up what I can.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all, including the Trumpeteers. I despise what you did and will never understand or forget it. But on a personal level, I wish nothing but the best for you and your family and friends. 

United States of America

1776 - 2025

A noble experiment has come to an end.

Someday, God willing, it will be returned to us.

But for now.

It is gone.