Sunday, April 16, 2017

What Wred's Reading: Superman: The High-Flying History Of America's Most Enduring Hero


I just started reading this book by Larry Tye.  My buddy Brent sent it to me since he knows I dig comics and super-heroes.  It looks to be a good read, and Tye seems to be fairly on target with his research.  He's even careful about it.  For example, on page 5, writing of Superman's co-creator Jerry Siegel, Tye writes that Siegel's writing appeared in "his own Cosmic Stories, America's first science fiction magazine produced by and for fans."

That may be true.  I am glad that Tye doesn't claim that Cosmic Stories is the first fanzine because it probably wasn't.  But "first science fiction magazine produced by and for fans" . . . hmm, maybe.  The distinction between that and the first fanzine is thin but notable, so ok.

This could be a superread.

Sunday, April 9, 2017

In April, I'd Vote For A Flat Tax

I just got done filling out my yearly tax forms.  This year might have set a record with 8 different forms for the federal taxes alone, and my financial situation is not particularly complex nor do I make a lot of money.

It's just the goofy tax system of the USA.

Filled with handouts to special interests and well-meaning attempts to modify individual behavior through punishments and rewards of the tax system, the federal tax code has probably grown so large that no one, not even those who work for the Internal Revenue Service, fully understand it.

By the time I'm done filling out my forms, I'm ready to vote for the most regressive flat tax possible just so I could have a simpler tax system and wouldn't have to spend my time next year filling out so many tax forms.  If general elections were held in the spring, there would be more Libertarians in public office just from votes from people such as me sick of filling out tax form after tax form.

Interestingly enough, I noticed Ohio is halfway there to a Libertarian taxfree paradise, which, despite my frustration with a needlessly complex tax system, is probably not desirable given that government services in Ohio already seem to run in a degraded mode (lack of funding may not be the only reason, but it's probably one of them).  Check this out:

Basically, from what I can tell, if you're self-employed, you pretty much don't have to pay state taxes in Ohio (only if you make over $125,000, and given how much the self-employed don't declare in the first place and write off as business expenses, there probably aren't too many above that any way).

Though I personally appreciate the state of Ohio letting me not pay taxes on some of my income, this is absurd.  Income is income, regardless of how it is earned.  It ought to be taxed at the same rate (ditto for the federal level where stock market income gets taxed at lower rates than labor income).

You can tell that Republicans have been running Ohio . . . into the ground.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Mickey The Moose!


I wandered into Comics Are Go the other day to discover that my buddy Scott had sold the store.  It seems to be in good hands with the new owner, who informed me that Scott was now making comics and not just selling them.  His latest is some sort of tie-in for a convenience store chain called Mickey Mart.  I've never been to one, but they must be cool places if they have their own comic book and were smart enough to hire Scott to do it!  I liked issue #2 even more than issue #1 because it was full of clever bits such as having the characters from The Big Lebowski be in the background when Mickey The Moose and his friends were in a bowling alley.  You can find out more of what Scott is up to at Skrcomics.com.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Mike & Molly Script

It might be the strangest thing I've ever written.  I wrote a Mike & Molly spec script.  It's basically fan fiction since it picks up right where the series ends.  I watched The Flash tv show a lot last year, and Mike & Molly reruns ran right before.  I got to enjoying the show and watched the last couple of episodes of the series when they aired in prime time.  I wanted to practice more screenwriting, so I wrote a spec script for fun.  Considering the show is no more, there is little chance of the script ever being produced, but it was fun to write.  I hope it's fun to read.  You can find it here:  https://sites.google.com/site/wredfright/home/miscellaneous

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Doug And The Succubus

Doug and Frank and I would
tramp together to the high school,
a long walk, and, with his
early facial hair, voted most likely
to be a wizard, Doug entertained
us daily for months with his
stories of how a succubus nightly
rode him devilishly evil.  Not quite
as good as the pornographic magazines
we hid in the woods but
stirring enough for the long trudge
to school, the saga went on
until one day when Doug said
his parents called an exorcist and
that was the end of his
getting laid.  Frank and I never
knew if Doug was full of
bull or mentally ill, but, being
teenage virgins, we longed, at times,
for a little demonic delight ourselves.
That would come later as the
women in our lives would suck
the child out of us and,
at times, make us wish that
we could go back to a
time when Doug was the only
one of us making whoopee.  Stuff
falling off the walls and houses
shaking with Doug cursing in ancient
languages while his mother and father
prayed around his bed doesn't sound
too bad when your wife is
out getting gangbanged while you are
cutting the grass at the formerly
happy home, or your girlfriend isn't
letting you see your child anymore
because she's decided that she doesn't
love you anymore so you have
to get a lawyer and sue
her only to find out the
child wasn't yours anyway. Most people
create their own hells.  At least
Doug's put out. Six Sex Six.

17 December 2015

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Rock And Roll Will Never Die, But The Rock And Rollers Will

Buddy Holly died in the plane crash
that got the Bopper and Valens too.
Eddie Cochran preferred to die by auto,
while Brian Jones drowned before he could sue.
Joplin and Morrison both overdosed,
following Hendrix, who choked to death on spew.

Rock and roll will never die.

The first drummer of the Dolls drank too much coffee,
while Elvis ate too much to stay on the throne.
Lynyrd Skynyrd revived the plane crash.
Sid Vicious oded, but he didn't go alone.
Nobody much noticed Darby Crash's suicide
once John Lennon got shot by a fan in a zone.
Bob Marley found out that cancer was not much fun.
AIDS decided that a B-52 would no longer answer the phone.

Rock and roll will never die.

Kurt Cobain broke out his shotgun.
Tupac and Biggie let others pull the trigger.
Amy Winehouse should have stayed in rehab.
The original Ramones have now all had a gravedigger
Ben E. King stood until he couldn't stand any longer.
But, though the corpse pile will keep growing bigger,

Rock and roll will never die.

1 May 2015

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Upon A Street, Two Strangers Meet

Walking late at
night, I notice
that most people
cross the street as
they approach me.
We each get a
sidewalk for our
journey with a
street as a moat
between the two
of us instead
of a twinge of
trust as we cross
paths, and though I
do not do this,
they do, so it
amounts to the
same as if I
did, and maybe
they just had to
cross the street at
some point, so they
did it then, but
I don't think so.
The pattern holds
up far too well.
I don't know if
I should feel sad
or happy that
I am scary.
What do they think?
“I'd rather be
sexist than raped.”
“I'd rather be
racist than robbed.”
I suppose there's
nothing wrong with
being cautious,
but I wish we
lived in a world
where a midnight
stroll were soaked more
in moonlight than
it were in fear.

22 December 2014

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Slampit Etiquette

The hardcore band doesn't notice,
too busy thrashing,
nor do the slamdancers,
too busy bashing,
but, being bored,
I do.

Oi Boy has retired
from the evening's stagediving
and retreated to the
edge of the slampit,
where he has latched
onto a black-haired beauty,
much to her regret,
I'd say,
based on the way
she leans away.

He is yelling,
but thinks he is whispering,
the secret to life,
the secret that is hazy
when one is sober
but gets clearer and clearer
the more alcohol one drinks.

She listens politely,
but I can tell that
she doesn't want to
feel his hot breath,
smell his long unwashed body
and longer unwashed clothing,
hear his bullshit philosophy,
look at his snot-crusted noserings,
and as for taste,
I'm guessing,
based on her expensive
pretorn clothing,
that Milwaukee's Best
has never been good
enough for her.

28 July 2014

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Three Good Years And One Bad Day

I'm waiting for your phone call
The one that will likely never come
I'm waiting for your phone call
The one where you tell me
How you made a horrible mistake
And you just realized it
I'm waiting for your phone call
The one where you tell me
That you want me to take you back
So we can try again

I'm waiting for your phone call
The one that will likely never come
I'm waiting for your phone call
The one where you apologize
For the last phone call
When you dumped me
I'm waiting for your phone call
Because since you left
I don't have much to do
Except let the heartache bleed away

To speed it along
I have been throwing your things away
Which is somewhat therapeutic
I noticed that your toothpaste expired
The same month as we did
How did the company know?
I'd call them up and ask
But I want to leave the line free
I'm waiting for your phone call
The one that will likely never come

But if it ever does I hope that I have the courage to tell you to go fuck yourself and then hang up

24 June 2014

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Shutting Up

For all audiences

Shit, my well-meaning friend got fired up one day and told me we needed to speak up for those who
Haven't got a voice, that we needed to be a voice for the voiceless. I kept quiet and didn't disagree
Underneath the lengthy diatribe, but I thought that, in fact, I'm pretty sure that my friend was mixing
Things up, the metaphorical with the literal, because most of those poor, discriminated against,
Terrorized motherfuckers aren't mute. They can speak for themselves. But the people who like to
Instead speak for them do so just so the voicemore don't have to listen to what the voiceless have to
Not say or say or whatever. Because I'm pretty sure that my friend and the other do-gooders doing
Good as voices for the not actually so voiceless wouldn't like what the voiceless have to say when they

Use their voices to say what they think about the people who like to speak for them because those nice
People just won't shut the fuck up and listen.

For the uptight about language

Shhh, my well-meaning friend got fired up one day and told me we needed to speak up for those who
Haven't got a voice, that we needed to be a voice for the voiceless. I kept quiet and didn't disagree
Underneath the lengthy diatribe, but I thought that, in fact, I'm pretty sure that my friend was mixing
Things up, the metaphorical with the literal, because most of those discriminated against,
Terrorized poor and powerless aren't mute. They can speak for themselves. But the people who like to
Instead speak for them do so just so the voicemore don't have to listen to what the voiceless have to
Not say or say or whatever. Because I'm pretty sure that my friend and the other do-gooders doing 
Good as voices for the not actually so voiceless wouldn't like what the voiceless have to say when they

Use their voices to say what they think about the people who like to speak for them because those nice
People just won't shut up and listen.

11 February 2014

Sunday, January 29, 2017

The Tyrant Next Door

The tyrant next door doesn't like you planting vegetables in your front yard, so city council passes a law and now you will pay through your taxes for men to come and fine you if you grow vegetables in your front yard.

The tyrant next door doesn't like it when you hold a garage sale, so city council passes a law and now you can only hold one garage sale a year, you can't hang a sign for it, and you have to pay money to the city so you can hold a garage sale, which doesn't make any sense since the reason you're holding a garage sale in the first place is because you need money, but it does make sense from the tyrant's point of view since the tyrant doesn't really want you to hold a garage sale.

In fact, the tyrant next door doesn't like how your garage looks. That door could use a little paint. So city council passes a law and now you will pay through your taxes for men to come and nag you to paint your garage. Don't shirk on your responsibilities! When you offer to just tear down the garage, they say no. The tyrant doesn't care if you don't even have a car. You must have a garage if you want to live in this city, buddy! Trim those bushes as well! Keep those property values up for the tyrant!

The tyrant next door has a few kids. Kids are expensive. So city council passes a law that you have to pay through your taxes for people to teach the tyrant's kids even if you don't have any kids yourself.

The tyrant next door really likes sports. Sports are expensive. So city council passes a law that you have to pay through your taxes for a new stadium that you will never visit, but that the tyrant will really enjoy. Go team! Subsidize spoiled millionaires playing children's games to please billionaires who don't know what else to do with their money (might I suggest giving it to the poor?).

The tyrant next door really likes art. (Except when you put some in your yard, then the tyrant complains.) The art the tyrant likes is expensive. So city council passes a law that you have to pay through your taxes for arts grants since you need to be cultured. Did you know that the tyrant's daughter is an artist and no one will otherwise buy the shit she calls art? Now you do!

The tyrant next door likes to call the cops on you just for fun. It's always a good time, especially to watch from the tyrant's window when the policecars pull up. However, the officers always look slightly disappointed when they don't find any heroin or domestic disturbance or whatever shit the tyrant made up to get them there.

The tyrant next door is friendly when you meet. Would be shocked to be thought of as a tyrant since the tyrant only wants what's best for the community. Hey, the tyrant pays taxes too. The tyrant can't grow vegetables in the front yard either. Isn't that fair? Hey, who are you to interfere with the tyrant's right to petition the government so the tyrant can tell you what to do? This is a democracy after all! How dare you? You must be a tyrant too! This is the United States of America! Don't you know this is the land of the free? We kicked the tyrant out of here a couple of centuries ago in our revolution.

We didn't want no tyranny no more, no sir!

That must be why now in every village, town, and city, the tyrant just has to settle for living next door.

19 November 2013

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Sunday, January 15, 2017

10 Years Of Wred Fright's Blog!

It was ten years ago on this day that I published the first post on this blog.  I joined Blogger initially to comment on King Wenclas's blog, and then figured I should actually do something with the blog.  I had some poems hanging about from a poetry reading I got suckered into (I was planning on reading from my first novel and then learned it was a poetry reading series, so I had to quickly write some poems), so I threw them up as posts.  Gradually, over the years, the blog came to be the entirety of WredFright.Com, as Google made it more functional.

There probably aren't too many blogs still running from a decade ago, so, to celebrate, I'll be running some poems in 2017.  Thus, things will be very similar to 2007.

Cheers to ten years of blogging!