Walmart Loves Che. And Stalin. And Mao. Not So Much Hitler.

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*******Just so you know, I sat on this for one month to give Walmart a chance to quash their initial response. None arrived.*******

I’m not real good with mass murder types. I get a bit cranky when I see morons wearing them on a shirt. Che, in particular, seems to be very popular with the clueless nits that inhabit my area.

Che

Che

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I’m equally offended by others, but not too many people sport these images on their shirts. For a reason, mind you. But Che seems more acceptable to fools than Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, and Mao.

Hitler

Hitler

Pol Pot

Pol Pot

Stalin

Stalin

Mao

Mao

All of these jackasses are displayed upside down, because they are all standing on their heads in molten donkey droppings in Hell unless I miss my bet. But the fact that anyone would put such an odious wreck of a human on their clothing baffles me. Che was working his way up the big leagues of mass murder by seeing how many people one bullet could kill. He liked killing people, just like the others.

Yet people still wear his face on their shirt. Consequently, I have begun to engage them with comments like, “Nice mass murderer shirt! Do you have one with Manson or Hitler? (Yeah, I know… Chuckie baby wasn’t a full mass-murder guru like the others, but he was still working his act out when it went south.)

At first, they like the fact that I noticed the shirt. (I also greet anyone with a USSR shirt the same way. Gulag anyone?) This quickly turns to a puzzled look when they realize what I said and are struck more stupid than usual by all that brain activity. The final stage is “Oh yeah?”

I know. Don’t expect clever retorts from minions of murder. My point is, think about what you emblazon on your chest. You might just find some obnoxious history buff that wants to humiliate you. I’m normally genteel and ignore most stupid people with slogan shirts designed to offend. But marxist murder maggots do not get the pass on this one.

Just think how lovely it would be if we all wrote a note to Walmart today and asked why they carry all that Che crap on their website! See, there is something you can do today that doesn’t involve face-to-face confrontation of morons!

Well, I did write. And I got an answer. Really fast. Here it is (You will note that I was upfront about seeking a comment for publication):

Customer email (09/07/2015 12:16 AM)
I”m curious why you are selling Che Guevara items such as his poster on your website. He’s a wretched historical character who was a mass murderer of hundreds of Cubans. I’ll be writing about it on my blog soon, and wondered if you’d care to comment.

http://www.walmart.com/search/?query=che%20guevara%20

Here’s the response:

Recently you requested personal assistance from Walmart.com Customer Care.
Below is our response and a summary of your request.

Reference#: 150907-000028
Response email (09/07/2015 01:24 AM)
Hi Joseph,

Thank you for contacting Walmart.com. We do totally understand, unfortunately we sell those items due to popular demand and they are part of our inventory now. We never want to offend anyone with the products that we offer.

Sincerely,

Aryel D.

Walmart.com Customer Care

Well, good to see commerce rolls on to the victory of the people! I went back to walmart.com and did some more searching. To nobody’s surprise, there was nothing favorable about Hitler. One poster from a movie that was iffy, but it didn’t look especially worshipful.

On the other hand, they did carry a nice assortment of merchandise about Stalin and Mao. Some of it very pricey. Most of it lauding the two mass murder suspects that outstripped Hitler by millions of victims. I think it’s just an oversight, but they didn’t have any kind of Pol Pot merchandise. Get hot, Walmart, there’s money to be made there I’m sure.

Are you ticked off yet? Walmart, in their defense, probably has no clue at a corporate level that they sell this crap. They also, unless I miss my guess, don’t authorize customer service employees who work at One in the morning on Labor Day to respond to queries like this one.

That does not, however, change the fact that they stock this garbage in their product line. I have the strangest feeling that if you share this post with your friends, and encourage them to contact Walmart about this merchandise, they will have a change of heart.

Tell them I sent you – I need the publicity.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Fear The Walking Dead Needs A Bolt To The Forehead. I Didn’t Realize The Title Was About The Acting.

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(@@@***WARNING: PLOT SPOILERS***@@@)

I like zombies. I am partially responsible for Amish Zombies from Space (So Kerry said before publication – I was getting the blame if it failed. All because I said, “Any idiot can do Amish Vampires. Show me some zombies and…)

The fact is, I looked forward to Fear The Walking Dead the minute it was revealed. Now I pray that it ends in the season finale with a nuke that takes out the whole cast.

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I will never be mistaken for Al Pacino in my acting. I’m okay with a one-liner, being Santa, even the “angry guy.” But not a real actor in that sense. I now realize that I missed out by not bugging my agent to get me into the casting room for this series. I can see the casting call specs:

Wooden personalities are a must. If you cannot portray a stereotype, don’t come to the audition. We desire that each cast member be able to mumble dialogue and give a perplexed look on command. We do require one Latino good guy, one Latino bad guy. All other characters are open to ethnicity. Women must either be very hot or die early on. No prudes, we’ll be doing our best to titillate.

For the love of all that is drama, could we just not do this any more? I was rooting for a main character to fire a sniper rifle in the last episode. The way he held it it would have torn his eye out and dislocated his shoulder. That means he dies. That means he comes back as a zombie. Excellent. One down. Sadly the psychopath military officer (I noticed the army advertised during this hour – bet that won’t happen again) shamed him down and snuffed the zombie.

Everyone in this deserves to die. Weapons handling is badly done. The soldiers couldn’t spot a Peterbilt sneaking up on them with its jake-brakes flapping. Did I mention the psychopath barber who tortures the young soldier? Or the simpleminded teenagers?

I also want to know where the Army got all those miles of fencing and put them up in the time frame of the story? They must have imported them from the former East Germany. Goodness, it would cost a lot of money and take months…. duh.

Power – how handy that the locals get rationed light at their homes. And abandoned buildings in the “dead zone.” Uh, I think the utility can cut that grid out and save a lot on the load.

I do like the unit patches on the soldiers. National Guard, notionally, yet they have combat patches from established units. This group of “babies” as they are called by the nutso Lieutenant in charge. It’s clear they are not combat vets – so what the heck is with the 10th Mountain patch?

Etc.

Tonight I will sleep knowing that AMC will pull the plug on this or retool it. The original Walking Dead is fun. Fear The Walking Dead is just tedious.

Bleh. It gets 2 out of 5 stars. But only because one of the cast, Elizabeth Rodriguez, was in Orange Is The New Black. That’s it.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Little Ahmed The Stalking Horse

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Let’s play a memory game. Do you remember (if you’re of a certain age) when wearing jeans to an office job was totally unacceptable? No jeans. Nada. Ah, good. You do remember. Then someone, probably the most beautiful woman in the office, or the hottest guy, wore a pair of designer jeans and while they got some dirty looks, nobody said a thing.

A month goes by, and then Joe (the beefy guy in the creative writing office) wore a pair of clean, brand new, spiffy jeans from the local Fleet Farm. And nobody said a word because others were wearing jeans and while Joe’s weren’t designer jeans, they were brand new. And nobody had said a word to the first person, or the second, or the most recent one to wear designer jeans. Besides, they thought in office unison, Joe’s too poor to afford the good stuff and he’s never had any fashion sense. Let it go.

Fast forward 20 years and look at that same office. Ewww. Gladys, who has spent a lot of time in drive-through-lanes, but never even been in a gym, much less done hot yoga, is wearing white yoga pants this morning. Again. Same pair, three days this week. Let’s just say that she is a messy eater and leaves stains. Not a pleasant sight. But she’s no worse than Emile who has pre-stressed jeans on that reveal a great deal about her interest in the band Phish and her eclectic tattoo art, a great deal of which is visible through the rips and tears – along with other things.

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In an idyllically selected choice of words, does anyone remember who let the camel’s nose in under the tent? That, by the way, is an allusion to the proclivity of camels to look under the tent, and then uproot the whole thing when they force their way in to the tent. Nope, nobody remembers that it was Sue with the Marithe & Francois Girbaud jeans in 1992 who led the parade. They were so happy that she was wearing anything but the exploding Grunge look that they looked the other way.

Thus we have little Ahmed. Who built a clock and got arrested. Silly racist school officials and cops. Keeping the Muslim-American population down. He deserves to be invited to the White House. Scholarship to MIT? Nothing is too good for this nerdy wunderkind with his steely determination to do well in school. Or to cheat and put a commercially available piece of electronic gear from Radio Shack into another box and pass it off as his own work. In writing, we call that plagiarism. In the world of terrorism and identity politics, we call that a stalking horse. Watch the nice little video and see what I mean.

So Ahmed does his little dance with the fake science project. Who cares? Me. First of all, one look at the picture and I knew it was a scam. How? I’ve put together projects like that for a grade in college. I have that degree in computer science and all, but they wanted to make sure I could do basic electronics. I still have the volt-ohm meter and the soldering iron that I used to make sure the stuff worked.

The soldering was done by a machine. There was an alternating current transformer. No high school teacher would assign ac power to a project when you can use batteries. If they did, the superintendent would have them on the rug for liability issues. Nope, they’d use a battery powered method. Oh, and this little Ahmed was so smart that he included a battery backup just like you’d use in a commercial product so your stupid clock wakes you up in the morning if the power goes out for an hour at night while you’re sleeping. In the style of Foghorn Leghorn, “The boy’s a genius!”

Or, he’s just part of a plan, very long term, to make people uncomfortable questioning any kid from the religion of submission about their motives and methods when the thing looks like a bomb. No, the evil head of the caliphate isn’t bugging my house, nor is he in phone contact with this kid. But a culture, a movement, a plan can be there and we’d never know it if we aren’t aware of the potential. I’d have to wonder why a timing device like this was in a little case. I’d wonder what it was supposed to trigger. But I’m a bit paranoid.

Thank God our esteemed apologist in chief isn’t reluctant to invite little Ahmed to show his cool (plagiarized) clock to the adoring throngs at the White House. Regardless of what you think of Barrack Obama, wouldn’t you wonder just a bit about his lack of advisors that could point out this very basic set of technology issues? Trust me, if GWB had fallen for this bit of theater, they’d be on him like – well, that analogy is for another day.

The moral of the story is that every time one of these things happens, the weaker minds in our midst back further away from confronting threats. Ahmed’s clock represents a threat. One starter for a model rocket, some gunpowder from his cousin Hassan’s dad’s shotgun, and a six inch length of pipe turn this clock into a bomb. Don’t believe me? I’ll build you one in under three minutes if you bring me the ingredients and then you try to enter the local federal building with the package. I’ll even spot you the starter and the gunpowder not being there. Just run the wires into a length of pipe and see the reaction.

I may even come to your funeral. I’m always happy when the gene pool gets skimmed for debris.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Genesis Winner, 2015. Mystery/Suspense/Thriller for Assault on Saint Agnes.

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This past week I was honored to win the Genesis Contest in the Mystery/Suspense/Thriller category for my novel, Assault on Saint Agnes. I was an overnight success after a mere 5 years of working on the book. Seriously, it has been a great experience and I am humbled to win the award.

Genesis trophy

Genesis trophy


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Because these contests take a very long time to judge, and a lot of things can happen during them, I have been prohibited from talking about the book since I sent the entry in to the contest to avoid a judge linking my name to the book. They are judged anonymously. It killed me to keep my mouth shut. So, Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooopeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!111!!11!!1!111. Etc.

Christian fiction is a strange bird in some ways. We compete, but do it in a more-or-less healthy manner. I had the privilege to read both of my final round competitors’ novels before the contest. They were gracious enough to send me a copy of the manuscript, and I sent mine to them. With that in mind, I would like to thank both Janice Boekhoff and Don Brobst for sharing their works. Any one of the three books would have been a worthy winner with a good story to tell. I am very blessed, in that both are fine people as well. I have met them both, and Donald is actually a friend of mine. I wish them both great success in their future writing! I’ve linked their blogs above. Please visit their websites.

Did I mention that while I was writing this Donald announced he’s got a publisher for his book and it’s due out in 2016? Way to go, Dr. Brobst!

I gave a very nice speech at the banquet, and managed to thank a lot of people. But I saw the bouncers coming and had to skip a few that deserve my thanks.

Before I deliver those additional thanks, I have some very sage and completely free advice for the writers who attend any conference and are stunned by what they hear the experts say in class, are unpublished, unagented, fearful, and pitching to editors and agents in hopes that they get that first big break.

The advice comes in pieces. Here we go. (Warning notice: I’ve been told I’m a bit of a heretic so be forewarned that these are only my opinions and do not represent anyone else, any organization, or association in Christian writing other than the lunatic at the keyboard.)

Nobody knows everything. For every agent/publisher/teacher that tells you that your work/idea/concept/manuscript is a raging river of rancid rat renderings, there is likely another who secretly wishes someone would finally write a book about an alcoholic bartender from Atlanta who falls in love with a former stripper in Connecticut. The plot goes that the two of them fall in love at an AA meeting and find a life together because they have similar issues, and they are both Christians who let God guide their lives since they’ve been redeemed. Love blossoms, no explicit sexual content, and no bad language. The agent/publisher/teacher tells you that it will only work if you make the protagonists a chaste pair from Lancaster who just happen to both be named Yoder, and meet at a barn raising. They eat organic apple pie. And have funny neighbors and farm animals they talk to like the children they are planning on having once they are financially stable.

I’m willing to bet there are lots more bartenders and former strippers who have accepted Christ than you would imagine. Wouldn’t it be nice to write a book that comforts/entices/entertains those of us with pasts we’re not all that proud of? (I’ll get docked for that last grammatical item…) Is your story engaging and ultimately moral? Does it provide entertainment that shows we are all redeemed by the Blood of Jesus? Don’t let your story get ruined by keeping inside that box. Don’t let someone who doesn’t want you lessen your worth as an author.

Point of fact: if you’ve written anything longer than a paragraph that’s intended for others to enjoy at some point, you’re an author. You are not an aspiring author. You may be an unpublished author (me) or a bad author… well, no fingers pointed there, thankfully. But you are an author. That includes those of you who haven’t finished your manuscript. It includes the guy who just puts out a funny blog. I’m going to go out on a limb and include the people who write epic Facebook posts that get passed around over and over.

Don’t hide your light under a basket. I know one author who writes on the edge of the Christian market and took a huge blow from a “professional” when they presented the concept and work at the conference. This person was so flattened by the verdict rendered by someone they idolized that they rushed to their room, redid their proposal/one page and then hurried back for the next appointment. That appointment loved the original pitch material. Uh, really? Yes. I refer to the stripper and the bartender above. It’s all a matter of what you like.

I like smart-alec humor, Swedish novelists, violent action thrillers, and speculative works. I also like an awful lot of what is being published in the Christian market today. We have some excellent authors. Strangely, I seem to like the edgier ones better than the ones who play by all the rules. You see, I identify with people who struggle to make it through every day. I’m one of them.

Don’t be discouraged. Write some more. If you can’t get published, can’t get an agent, can’t get the dog to look at your face when you read this out-loud to her, you may need to work on basic skills. Write crisp sentences. Engage the reader. Jeff Gerke tells one and all: DON’T BE BORING! (He didn’t use caps, but his voice was really loud when he said this to us.) Don’t dump back story. As a matter of fact, read Jeff’s most recent book, upon which he based the class I took this weekend, The Irresistible Novel. I am planning on reading it, but I think Jeff gave the good stuff away at the conference so I have a day or two before I must come up with the money.

Last wisdom nugget/road apple for the day: Ask God. If you really don’t know where to go with your writing, ask Him. He knows the real rules, He knows our hearts, He knows what you’re supposed to be doing. I trust Him much more than someone I meet for three days at a conference. After all, don’t most of us talk to Him every day? Be of good cheer. Read those craft books everyone was talking about (My favorite is Writing The Breakout Novel by Donald Maass. You have to read the whole thing and then swallow your pride. But it’s a heck of a starting point.)

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Now, we return to thanking people following the blog hosts little rant.

First: the judges. Wow. I cannot imagine reading all of those submissions, scoring them, including comments, and getting it done under the time restraints. The work was superb – and not because I won. I got very good feedback, great comments, and I would consider one of the judges for a paid gig editing my next book – incredibly insightful comments!

Second: my victims. I mean my legion of beta readers. I have inflicted some of the raw swill on these willing victims and they have been brave enough to give me honest answers. Great guidance. Powerful encouragement. Many of them were people I’ve never met outside of Facebook. This group also includes my long-suffering coworkers. I am bringing cookies in this week to apologize for bending your ears about people that don’t even exist outside of my slightly bent (maybe more) brain.

My wife. I mean, she puts up with me? Sainthood in a short instant.

To all those who have played a part in this victory: I thank you.

Now it’s up to some lucky publisher to contact me, hand over the cash, and publish this thing as quickly as possible.

Let’s just say that there’s been a knock at the door but we haven’t handed out any roses. Yeah, I hang out with romance writers too often.

Be encouraged, authors. You just have to work hard and take some kicks to the teeth to perfect that smile I’m wearing tonight.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

How Does Your Restaurant Get Reviewed On This Blog?

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I’m often asked that question. I always respond – well, nobody has ever asked me that question. But if they did, I’d probably tell them all of the things below the next paragraph.

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First, be open. I’ve gone places to do a review and they’re closed. Don’t you watch Gordon Ramsay, anything on CNBC, or one of dozens of shows that talk about restaurant business? You have to be open to have me come in and eat.

Now that the basic door deal is over, I have a simple guideline for doing any review on this blog: nothing less than 4 out of 5 stars. Books, music, movies, restaurants, or products I purchase. I never want some idiot quacking about how horrible my blog or books are (they are coming, I promise) when it’s a matter of taste. I don’t like certain things, and so unless it really strikes me as well done, I don’t go after it on the blog. That means I read, eat, visit, watch, buy a lot of things that never make it to this page, but are under consideration for some period. It’s simply a variation on the whole “if you can’t say something nice…” concept.

Have clean bathrooms with toilet lids that are permanently affixed. I check that stuff. Not in the ladies room – screaming bothers me. But if you have a dirty bathroom, or a broken john, it’s likely to be your death rattle. Same thing if I see staff coming out with dry hands and a dry sink. Yuck.

Pretend my business matters. I’m amazed at the number of servers and counter people who don’t seem to see my 350 pound bulk standing right there, or seated at a table. I, as a customer, should not have to wait while you finish your texting. I put the phone down when you come to my table, or apologize profusely for having to take a business call. I generally go outside if my phone rings, so it’s rare. Seems that’s not the case for servers.

Lights. There should be enough light to see the menu. Amazing when there isn’t.

Menus. Flyspecked is not a good motif. Clean them, replace them, update them.

“We’re out.” Unless it’s the special of the day, I never want to hear that phrase. Especially for something like rice in a Mexican restaurant.

When I ask how something is made, tell me the truth. “Yes, we bring it in from a bakery.” See, that wasn’t so hard. Lie to me and get caught, you’ll never see me again.

Use spices. Even in vanilla ice cream, there must be flavor. When you do the classic Minnesota “we dare not offend anyone with flavors” thing, I figure you don’t know how to cook. Invest in cooking with spices. Lars may not like it, but he’s not likely to be in your seafood restaurant anyway. The fish fry at the Lutheran church is more his speed.

Don’t let my soda/water run dry, double for coffee. If I’m thirsty, I’m suddenly looking for my check.

Don’t miss the opportunity to tell me about the special. Or your deserts. Or your favorite. Up-sell me. Make me aware of all the neat things you have on offer. If I have to ask, don’t look like I questioned your parental validity. You are being given a second chance. If you vanish for ten minutes to find out if they really do have caramelized persimmons, I will hand you the visa card when you get back. That’s a yes/no deal. Your only forgiveness for the delay will be the following phrase: “We were out, but Chef is making some just for you right now, and I’ve put on a fresh pot of coffee. I’m sorry for the delay.” You don’t have to comp me the desert, but explain the delay. When you wander back and say, “Nah. We’re out.” ten minutes later, you are indeed out.

Please, please don’t make me wait for my check. At least one pretty good review died on the host stand when my check took fifteen minutes during a very slow night at the venue.

Smile. I know that’s a lot some days. I’m not being sarcastic. Some days you just don’t feel it. But at least give me a hint of a smile when you greet me. I’m not looking for seduction, merely a facial expression other than the one seen in dialysis clinics.

There you go. Obviously the food has to be pretty good, but more than anything your major hurdles are listed above. Not that tough in my opinion, but I’m a bit of a loon.

More reviews coming soon. Today’s didn’t work out after a promising start. Like school, you might ace the midterm, but if you blow the homework and the final, you’re not getting an “A” from teacher.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.