They’re not like us.
They don’t feel pain like we do.
They don’t think like we do, either.
Sure, they look like they’re suffering, but they really aren’t. It’s just a reflex.
They just look like us, and we project our feelings on to them.
Scientists haven’t been able to explain why they do what they do.
But they agree that they’re not like us.
It’s okay to keep them as pets. Or to cook and eat them.
It’s not like they have a soul. Like us.
Besides, they’re delicious, right? Wouldn’t you miss the flavor, their magnificent delicious flavor?
Category: My stories
He reads
He puts the bluetooth earpiece on, slides a switch, and he waits for the device to pair.
“Connected,” says a voice.
He then opens the music streaming program on his laptop, selects a station, and clicks “Play.”
Beethoven’s 14th Sonata starts, and he breathes out slowly.
Good. This is good.
He reaches for a book, opens it, and tilts it so that a pencil and highlighter roll out on to his desk.
He reads, marking a few passages here and there for emphasis.
He sips from a glass of water, smiles, and turns the page.
And he reads some more.
Grandmother’s fever
Grandmother has a fever again.
We turn the heat off in her room, and we give her pills.
So hard for her to swallow, we crush them up into pudding.
And feed her one spoonful after another.
She stops, won’t open her mouth again.
She clutches the quilt, the one she sewed together so many years ago.
We will bury her in it.
An old jazz station is playing on the radio.
Miles Davis, I think. Or Coltrane.
“Let me go,” she whispers.
The winter ground is hard, but we still dig.
“That’s deep enough.”
And we wait. And wait.
Actor Actress
Joe Smith was the greatest actor, winning Academy Awards and Golden Globes and People’s Choice Awards and countless other awards.
He didn’t want to direct or produce or write. Just act.
But as an actor, what more did he have to prove?
So, he challenged himself to become the greatest actress.
Makeup and hair could only go so far, and the tabloids carried round-the-clock news of his surgical transformation.
Then weeks of intense physical therapy and coaching before Jo signed on with a blockbuster project.
Shooting, editing… the hype… and finally…
The movie bombed.
But Jo scored a People’s Choice.
Off Switch
Kids don’t come with a volume control.
Billy says they come with an off switch. In fact, several.
Just hit them hard enough, or stab deep enough, and you’ll get to one eventually.
Sure, that makes a big mess, and it violates the warranty.
Plus, it breaks several laws.
Well, that, and it’s just an off switch. Kinda hard and expensive to turn them back on after that.
And noisy, too.
Billy soundproofed his basement to use as a dungeon, and if it weren’t for a neighbor, things would have gotten messy.
Now, we’ll be looking for Billy’s off switch.
Into a story
Recently, I went to Disneyland, and I stayed at a hotel that allowed early access to the park.
It was a Thursday morning, and the crowds hadn’t built up just yet.
I went all the way back to New Orleans Square, and instead of the usual forty-minute serpentine lines for Pirates of the Caribbean, I practically walked all the way up to the gate and boarded the boat.
Floating by the fishing shack, banjo playing, mist and fireflies.
The story washes over me, all around me.
I raise my arms and laugh as the boat plunges down into the past.
Davy Jones
Davy Jones was the lead vocalist for the band The Monkees.
When people said that his locker is at the bottom of the sea, he’d shrug and smile and say:
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maybe it belong to David Bowie? After all, his name was David Jones before he changed it to David Bowie.
You know, because he didn’t want to be confused with Davy Jones.
He’d also shrug and smile and say “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I guess neither wanted to have to explain why there were so many dead sailors in it.
George The Pirate – Fingers
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
You know the knife game, where a person puts their hand on a table, spreads out their fingers, and rapidly stabs a knife in between the fingers?
George managed to stab himself in the leg when he played it.
This is despite the fact that he was sitting at a table, and his legs were under the table.
And he didn’t stab his leg through the table. George wasn’t that strong.
No, he somehow stabbed his leg under the table.
At least he didn’t cut off any fingers, right?
George The Pirate – Bullet
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He spent a lot of time reading books. He liked to read.
He always carried a small book in his shirt pocket.
“Put that book away, George,” said the captain.
“This might one day block a bullet,” he said. “I’ve read stories where someone shoots someone else in the heart, and the bullet gets blocked by a book in their pocket.”
George smiled and sat down.
On his flintlock pistol.
Bang.
“Ouch,” said George. “Help?”
George read his book while the ship’s surgeon removed the bullet from his ass.
George the Monk
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
After he was suspended for pooping on the swab deck, he tried being a Buddhist monk.
They shaved his head, gave him robes, and asked him to chant all day and night.
He got pretty good at it.
It was when they handed him chalk and asked him to make mandalas that George ran into trouble.
Instead of scraping the chalk to make beautiful patterns, he drew dirty pictures on the temple’s floor and walls.
Rubbing his hand through the stubble on his scalp, he returned to his ship.