Fixing The Political System: Part The First

Just about everyone (at least everyone I know) agrees that Congress is a corrupt and useless organization that seems to be getting exponentially worse every few years. We can also agree on a nice size laundry list of problems, from campaign finance to lobbying groups, career politicians to partisan hacks who bow to the party machine.

Well, I’ve solved the problem.

First, fire them. All of them. Remove every sitting Senator and Representative.

Then, no more fucking elections.

Congress meets, what, three, four times a year?

We make it a random selection, like jury duty. You get selected, you go to Washington four times over the year, make your votes, then go back to your life. New people selected every January.

Who knows, we might even get some bills passed that make sense for a change.

Sorry About The Money

Look, I’m really sorry about the money.

I meant to put it back. Really, I did. It’s just, well, you know.

There was this girl, woman really, not girl. I suppose girl is sexist. Anyway, there was this woman. And I wanted to take her out. So I just took a little from the register.

Borrowed. I meant to say borrowed, not took. I borrowed a little from the register. And I took her to this Chinese place, you know?

But she didn’t like Chinese. I thought it was a safe choice. I mean, how was I supposed to know that she didn’t like Chinese?

So I took a little more from the register. Borrowed, I mean. Borrowed a little more. And I took her dancing. Nice club, upscale, live music. I thought she’d get into it.

She didn’t like the band.

What do you do, you know? I thought she’d have a good time. It didn’t work that way. So I asked her, what would you like to do? , I asked her.

She starts talking about this little bed and breakfast upstate, and how much she liked it and the cozy fire and the big comfortable bed and she’d really like me to take her up there.

So I borrowed some more from the register. I meant to put it back. Really, I did. But she was just incredible, and we had such a great time and…

I didn’t know she was your wife.

I’m sorry.

Please don’t kill me.

What Is Wrong With People, Anyway?

When you walk into a retail establishment that specializes in electronics, and you need some help finding what you need, try to be a little more specific than “I need a connector.”

And when the salesman asks what you’re trying to connect, don’t answer with “wires” or “cables”.

This isn’t a trick question and it’s not a fucking state secret, either. If you’re trying to hook up your DVD player to your TV, than say so, so the salesman can get you what you need without having to play 20 fucking questions.

Thank you.

Dalek Vocabulary

I was just sifting through a Doctor Who forum where I discovered my new favorite word. It was in a post by Who novel writer Lance Parkin.

The Daleks have a word, ‘Clyffil’. It means ‘Yes, I understand perfectly, it’s just that you’re wrong’.

Which is just too perfect……

Actually, Mr. Benedict

“So why run?”

It was the first thing in the morning, and here was this reporter, right on his doorstep, and she was asking him that. Of all things, she asks that.

“So, it’s out, huh. I thought I got away clean. Damn. I guess everything’s over. Why run? So I wouldn’t get caught, that’s why. Do you know what this means? What it does to me?

“I’m finished. You’re here now, but I’m sure the police will be right behind you. I can’t explain it, can’t talk my way out of it. I ran. They were all shouting, identifying themselves, ordering me to stop. Have you ever been in that situation? It’s terrifying. I panicked. I admit it, I panicked.

“I don’t even know what I was doing there in the first place. I mean, it’s not like it was a habit or anything. I never set foot in the place until last night. Bob talked me into it. We had been drinking, neither of us had ever done anything like that before, it seemed like a lark

“God knows, we never expected the place to be raided. Place has been running for years, right out in the open like that, first time it gets raided is the one and only night I’m there. How’s that for luck?

“And we certainly didn’t know the girl was underage. I mean yeah, she looked a little young, but I figured, she must be eighteen. They wouldn’t let her work there unless she was eighteen. Then she tells us she’s fifteen. Can you imagine? Right in the middle of, well, you get the idea.

“And before I can react, before I can even comprehend what she just said, blam, here they are, yelling and screaming, waving guns. So I grabbed my pants and hauled ass. What would you have done? Stayed and let yourself be ruined? Of course not. You’d have taken off, too.

“I bet it was Bob, wasn’t it? He must have got caught and spilled the beans. Told everyone I was there so he’d get off the hook. That son of a bitch. It was Bob, wasn’t it?”

The reporter smiled, a grin bigger than any he’d ever seen before. I grin like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary. And she said the most remarkable thing.

She said, “Actually, Mr. Benedict, I was asking why you had chosen to run for Congress.”

People You Don’t Know But Should # 1 – Robert Morgan

I’ve always been a fan of hard boiled detective novels. (Hence the reason that I do most of my own writing in that genre.) For nearly as long, I’ve been a fan of horror stories. Vampires, monsters, ghosts and goblins, I love ‘em all.

So, on the rare occasion that the two genres cross, I collapse into a puddle of pure fanboy glee. It doesn’t happen often. The Night Stalker was close. The X Files had some of the right ingredients. A couple of little known movies like “Gotham” and “Cast A Deadly Spell” are wonderful.

But the best has always been the Teddy London novels.

Know, you ask, who the hell is Teddy London?

In the 1990’s, C.J. Henderson, writing under the name Robert Morgan, produced a series of paperback original novels that featured private eye Teddy London working his way through mysteries involving vampires, mummies and even C’thulu. They’re hard to find now, of course, but anything worth reading is worth the hunt. Try your local used book store. You won’t be sorry.

Hey, There’s Already One Of Those…

Ahem…..

As several folks were so nice to point out, even before I had posted my first entry, yes there is already a blog entitled Parenthetically Speaking out there on the great and wonderful World Wide Web. In fact there are several of them.

Believe it or not, (and I’m sure many of you won’t), I knew that.

I, too, know how to use a search engine.

As I’m sure you’re aware, titles get re-used all the time. Sometimes for remakes or re-imaginings of an idea, sometimes for entirely different ideas. (The first example that comes to mind is “The Island”, two different movies with the same title, both awful, but with no other real connection.)

This is like that.

I could have used a different name, but I like (Parenthetically Speaking) and I happen to think it best fits both my style and the subject matter.

So there.

What, Where’s The Who….?

Okay, what the hell, where am I?

And thus you discover one of my largest character flaws (no, not my ego. I said one of…). I call it Short Obsession Span, or SOS for short. You see, I’ve got a lot of obsessions. Lots and lots. They tend to go in cycles. I’ll be obsessively interested in Doctor Who for a couple of months. Then I’ll move on to Sherlock Holmes. Or Marvel Comics. Or James Bond. Or Babylon 5. Or Stephen King. Or Charles Dickens. Or…

Well, you see the problem. None of these obsessions ever really disappear. I still love Doctor Who, for instance. It’s just not what’s on my mind at the moment.

So having a blog dedicated entirely to one obsession may seem like a good idea at the time, but trust me, not so much. Hence the conversion of “The Coming Storm” into “(Parenthetically Speaking)”. Now I’ll be able to rant and rave about whatever happens to be on my mind instead of being locked into a particular format.

My posting will probably still be erratic. I work full time, I’m writing a novel and my wife likes to have at least a little of my time.  So my free time is somewhat limited. Still, I’ll try to get something at least moderately interesting up here at least once a week.

Just don’t go holding your breath.