I’m controversial. I suppose that goes without saying. I actually do not have a stated course, or agenda, other than Texas Freedom. Sometimes I will research an article for days before it jells and I know which way I’m going. Good case in point was this weekend where I watched dozens of documentaries, reviewed hundreds of news stories and read the works of Josephus. In addition to that I reviewed James Randi, Aron Ra, and a couple of Rabbis I know over in Jerusalem, all to boil it all down to six hundred words on this morning’s posting. That’s another of my tricks. If I can’t make my point in six hundred words I have to research more.
I fly high above the subject. Trying not to get tied down with useless argument, or commentary, I go for the human understanding we all have. That’s why I call myself a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin. If a waitress can’t understand what I’m trying to say, I rewrite. I scatter shot, i.e. one day I’ll address the ISIS situation, and the next day will write about my first kiss from Pam Burns back in high school. If there is a common thread in my work I’ve yet to see it. Maybe fifty years after I’m dead some professor will figure me out.
I handle criticism well. Well, I handle it well if the person criticizing me is of note. If it’s some former in-law who can’t compose a grocery list I get pissed off. But if it’s a national talk show host I consider that on the same level as a kiss from Ivana Trump. This simple fact of the matter is that if you only write about polka dots and pink shoe laces no one will ever read you. You never know what will set someone off. I do not deliberately try to offend. On a one to one conversation I never discuss religion. I’ve tried. Always ends with someone sending me to hell.
I’m developing as a writer. At sixty-four I’ve just about got this thing figured out. There’s a girl out in Nolanville who screens my stuff for grammatical errors. Consequently, I make sure I include one in every article. Also, I put one mistake in every one. A little tease to see if someone catches it. I’m crazy like that. I’m a free-lance writer, in that there is no money in blogging, or at least it has eluded me. But, that’s no surprise. I couldn’t sell a condom in a whorehouse. Sales is not my calling.
Sometimes a subject will evade me. This morning I had all intentions of dissecting “Clock Boy.” Even had the picture ready. Then, I looked at this little nerdy kid and thought, “Gonna give him a break.” He’s beginning to figure out his parents are whacked. Kid wants to come back to Texas. I can’t hate that. Buy that boy a Taco. Beef taco!
I hate abortion, black lives mattering, Bruce Gender and Vodka Martinis. I love Gin Martinis, fine cigars, and any girl stupid enough to hang around me. I believe in God, but not religion. Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. The reason I believe in God is we still can’t make a leaf. I listened to hours of atheists this weekend trying to find out how to make a leaf, and those idiots didn’t even have a formula for a dry martini.
So, until assassination, I will continue to write. Entertain both myself and the public. Having said that you’ll note I’ve reached six hundred words.Bill the Butcher