Frankenfish!

Well, here we are again hot on the tail-end of my warning of the dangers of humans dressing as animals. I saw that as the new threat to humanity. But it looks like humanity's downfall won't be due to apes, robots OR humans in animal costumes (maybe the downfall will come at the hands of the MAGA movement, but I'm really tired of talking about those guys). Nope...it looks like there's a new scary predator in town, ladies and gents. I give you...FRANKENFISH. (Cue lighting flashes and thunder crashes).

Take a look at this guy. Cuddly, yeah? Apparently scientists are freaking out over this predator and the US government recommends killing them upon sight. Yow! Pretty harsh for a little fish, wouldn't you say? But the Frankenfish, aka the northern snakehead, are invasive, spread quickly and kill off ecosystems. An equal opportunity predator, the Frankenfish is color blind and enjoys destroying White Perch and Black Crappie (and with a name like "Crappie," I gotta side with Frankenfish on that one).

What makes the Frankenfish really freaky is that they can go for days without water. They breathe air through a suprabranchial chamber which allows them to go to the top of their habitat, cough, expel their old air and suck in a ton of new air, thus enabling them to wiggle across land in search of new water sources. They can wiggle for days! A whole lotta wigglin' goin' on! In Arkansas, apparently the slower stragglers corpses can be found alongside the road.

The stuff of nightmares.

Furthermore, these cute lil' guys have been known to lunge and bite at people who get too close to their eggs. And I thought piranha were scary enough.

Okay, so how do you kill a Frankenfish? Thank God the US government is at the top of their game and explaining just how that can occur. First, you can put them on ice. Um, how exactly is that supposed to work? The government isn't very forthcoming. (It's kinda like when someone tells you their plan on how to get rich is "I'll start with a million dollars.") If the Frankenfish is busy lunging and biting at me, I'm not going to take care to put him on ice.

You can also cut off its head (again this calls for alarming proximity), gut it (ditto), or even eat it. I don't know about you guys, but I'm kinda not okay with eating something that could eat me.

And the government's last final, ominous warning? "Whatever you do, don't throw it onto land to suffocate it." Because the guy will just wiggle away to procreate and wreak havoc on another unsuspecting ecosystem. (Again with the lightning flash and thunder crash.)

One final terrifying thought on the Frankenfish: some guy who used to have one in his aquarium said it could recognize people. How did THIS guy ever sleep? With his Frankenfish watching him at night, plotting and just waiting for the right time to wiggle out of the tank and lunge at his "master" with his sharp teeth going for the jugular...

It's aliiiiiiiiiive!

While on the topic of alarmingly grotesque monsters and abominations, you'll find lots of 'em in my short story collection, Twisted Tales From Tornado Alley. We've got giant spiders and bugs, angry sentient murderous space plants, underground cannibalistic hellspawn, and a lovesick and lovably violent Bigfoot! All this and more fun awaits you RIGHT HERE!

The Monolith Martians

I would like to formally give the alien species behind the suddenly appearing and disappearing monoliths my most gracious thanks for giving us something to talk about other than the pandemic and Trump. So...thank you, lil' green men! (Of course if these monoliths are an early precursor to a world take-over, than I retract my thanks and say, "Don't forget to wear your masks 'cause now's not the best time for an alien invasion. Come back next spring for best results.")

Everyone knows about the monoliths, right? If not, a Cliff's Notes styled recap is supplied: in the red rock desert of eastern Utah, a mysterious 9 foot tall steel monolith appeared embedded into the ground. Days later, it mysteriously vanished. Then a second, similar monolith was found in the mountains of Romania. It too has disappeared.

This is...awesome. I'm stoked about this. No rhyme, no reason, all fun, something that's been missing in the news lately. I'd like to think creepy bug-eyed aliens (and if this is true, fellas, I apologize and mean no insult, so don't space blast my ass, please) are behind this fun diversion. My childhood dream come true. Maybe the aliens are punking us, having a good laugh at our expense. Maybe it's their overture to meet their idol, Trump. Or just maybe, these monoliths represent something of immeasurable depth and meaning.

However, there's always a spoil-sport in the bunch. Couple days ago, a Utah photographer claims he witnessed and took photos of a group of men approaching the monolith, then destroying it. One guy purportedly said, "Leave no evidence behind."

BOOOOOOO! Don't pee on my parade, mister! Give us this brief moment of wonderful imagination and expansiveness that we haven't known in the is-it-over-yet year of 2020. Don't be one of those guys!

But he seems to be dead-set on his conspiracy theory. I gotta say, though, his story sounds kinda hinky to me. First of all, where is this photographic evidence of the secret society of monolith destroying men? Did it get lost in the mail along with the evidence against Hunter Biden?

Okay, whatever. In all honesty, this is my second favorite theory, so I'll take it. I mean, who doesn't love to get behind a top-secret cabal of mystery men installing and then destroying  a couple of monoliths? To what nefarious ends? Some sort of secret weapons testing? Or maybe they're developing the ultimate in television streaming hardware.

There have been lotsa crackpot theories, for sure (I'm looking at you, 2020). So in the spirit of our times, let me lob another one out there: the monoliths are God's thermometers. Worried about how sickly Mother Earth is, God has inserted two thermometers (rectally and orally--different sides of our planet) to gauge why Mother Earth has been so sickly in 2020. Or something. 

God help me, I'd kinda like to even hear Trump's theory about the monoliths.

Or maybe...just maybe Stanley Kubrick's mind-mess of a film, "2001, a Space Odyssey," was prophetic. The monoliths portend the further evolution of humankind. Seems like we sorta need to evolve the hell outta 2020.

While we're chatting about evolution, why not give my horror/mystery/dark comedy, Corporate Wolf, a read? Putting the EVIL in EVILution, so you don't have to.

 

Xenophobic Hollywood

Our world has come a long way regarding certain hot topics. Women's rights (just not in the work force), racism (kinda' depends on what state you live in), homophobia (Ireland, of all countries, is leading the pack).

But, there's still a fear, a deep hatred, toward aliens from worlds beyond. No one trespasses worse than Hollywood.

Scoff if you will, but if it pleases the court, let me present the evidence. The truth is out there, just not presented accurately by movie and TV moguls.

Hollywood presents aliens in two--count 'em, two--different ways:

1) The alien who wants to eat human's faces;

2) The alien who starts out wanting to eat human faces, but due to the nobility of the human species changes its' mind.

Yow. Not a wide spectrum of range there.

Actually, I'm more down with the face-eating alien stereotype. At least the alien knows what it wants. What kind of wishy-washy alien truly examines humans under a microscope and decides they're worthy? To the point of derailing their impending earth invasion to the detriment of their own kind?

Really? I mean, if I were a B.E.M., I'd probably lean toward the eating option. You don't hear about racial strife on the planet Galortica, a well-adjusted and hungry lot.

Yet Hollywood keeps perpetuating the ugly myths. I hate to think that somewhere Droolax and Septeen-17 are sitting on a sofa, checking out Earth's sci-fi shows.

"Droolax, pass the popcorn."

"Yo, check it out! On this entertainment program, the Earthlings are calling us aliens. Us! Gah! We've been around for billions of quadlaxitives longer."

"No kidding. These puny earthlings are so disgusting with their gangly four limbs and cow-like two eyes. I'd eat them, but it'd just be too gross. Buncha' bottom dwellers."

Don't get me going on the "characterization" of aliens on TV. Of course, they're always humanoid. I dare you, Hollywood, to try and create a true character of a gaseous or blobby nature (outside of the hungry kind, of course).

Aliens on TV are always void of emotion. Hollywood's idea of alien characterization, since Earth has a universal monopoly on emotion.

"Captain, what are these strange droplets of moisture welling in the corners of my visual orbs?"

And that's usually a break-through moment for the alien character. Then, commercial break! Back to emotion ground zero. While the humans smirk knowingly like smug parents around toddlers. Sometimes aliens say the silliest things, don't ya' know?

C'mon, Hollywood. Let's give aliens a chance.

(Of course I reserve the right to change my mind if an invading alien decides to eat my face.)

For a frighteningly different sorta tale, check out Ghosts of Gannaway. (No aliens, but ghosts. Lots and lots of scary ghosts). And since my publisher, Books We Love, has temporarily gone insane, the book's on sale for .99!

Creature in the Kitchen

Recently, my wife cracked open her grandmother's box of recipes.

Many interesting items lurked within. Fudge made from cheese, anyone?

But there was one item that stuck to me like peanut brittle between the teeth: "Herman."

Here's the deal...Herman is an ongoing project. A beast that's kept around in the kitchen, one you need to constantly feed yeast, sugar and other sundry items to keep it growing. And, like sea monkeys, you need to tend to it over an extended period of time, an on-going project.

Frankenstein's recipe.

The nightmarish qualities of something you need to feed, growing on the counter-top until it's chow time sorta freaked me out.

I couldn't help but anthropomorphize the dang thing. I've watched a lot of horror films. Not in a good way.  Tendrils of snaking dough, crusty brown teeth, dead cooked eyes. I tend to not want to eat things that may eat me in the middle of the night.

But is Herman much different than fattening pigs up for barbeque?

I think, yes. With pigs, you know what you're gonna get. (I just don't want to be around on slaughter day). A squeal, bloodletting, a guilty conscience over your fulfilled tummy and satisfied taste glands. Plus, pigs are kept outside. (Unless you're one of THOSE guys.)

With "Audrey" growing on the kitchen counter? Yow, scary stuff.

Herman haunts my dreams, sours my stomach. It stares at me from the counter, mesmerizing me...mentally invading my brain, saying, "Feed me!"

Where will it end? Could there be a growing conspiracy of fellow "Hermans" waiting to devour us, an invasion from within?

And, why in the world did someone name it "Herman?" Humanizes it a bit much, I think. (Although, I wonder if "Herman Munster" played a factor back in the day).

I've got my eye on you, jar of ewww, sleeping with the other eye open.

For other scary things (both inside the house and out), check out the trailer (provided by author extraordinaire Meradeth Houston) for my new suspense thriller, Ghosts of Gannaway:

Get the book here:  Ghosts of Gannaway and others at my Amazon author's page.

Movie Guilt: Aliens & Zombies

So, recently I watched two very different films.

My wife and I saw Ender's Game in the theatre. Was it a good movie? I dunno. It was entertaining enough, but it hit upon all military-based entertainment cliché's. Tough Sargent, intensely evil (for no good reason) competition, obligatory love interest (and we know how soldiers like to hook up in the face of battle), and an underdog, who despite all odds, rallies his team behind him into a cohesive fighting machine.

Sigh. Been there, seen that. Soldiers in space. The underrated (albeit, admittedly fascist) Starship Troopers did it better. Plus it offered exploding alien bug creatures. And Neil Patrick Harris as a nerdy bug-killing expert. Since we all know Harris is openly gay, I thought I'd already paid my liberal cinematic dues.

But sitting through Ender's Game, I couldn't help but feel guilty watching it. I mean, the author, whose book the film is based upon, Orson Scott Card, has made his viewpoints regarding gay marriage quite clear. It ain't pretty. Yet there we sat, a bag of popcorn perched between us, taking in the CGI spectacle.

My wife cited a news story she listened to that suggested we should donate to a gay cause if we paid to see the movie to balance out the inequality. Not a bad idea. But where to start? I offered up donating to the "Bugs In Space Need Love, Too" program, but was quickly shot down. Guess I missed the point.

But aliens (friendly ones, of course) should be allowed equal rights as well. I wouldn't oppose an alien and human marriage, as long as the alien signs a prenuptial contract not to eat his partner's face.

No one rallies for aliens (except for "E.T.," and he doesn't count, because we all KNOW he's just a hunk of cutesy, Spielbergian plastic).

No love for zombies, either, even though they're real. Duh. What with global warming, toxic waste dumping, and run-afoul, mad scientists, I'm surprised zombies aren't more of a political hot-topic now.

Which brings me to the other film I watched several nights ago: Zombie Strippers.

Oddly enough, I didn't experience an iota of guilt watching it.