The 1970s All-Hollywood Team
After I tripped down a flight of stairs and hit my head, I suddenly wondered: what if filmmaking was more like the NFL? Think about it. Fall down a flight of stairs if you have to. I know they say that art is subjective, unlike, say, NFL stats. But to that, I say poppycock! We…
Mer Rouge (Part 31)
His arms were outstretched like the crucified Christ. Wrists and ankles tied by leather straps. A single wash rag, dampened by torrents of water, was draped over his face. Sheriff Dirk reached for the faucet above the prison’s head and opened it wide. Water splashed onto the rag and the prisoner wiggled and gagged to…
Mer Rouge (Part 30)
The smoldering remains of the roadside motel reflected in the silvery shades of Sheriff DuPont. Under the early morning hours, as the sun slowly crept towards its high zenith and the dew blanketed the greenery, the air reeked of putrified swamp and charred wood. The lawman stood with fists to his waist and slight gut…
Mer Rouge (Part 29)
He waltzed back into the empty parking lot and opened the rear window to the Gremlin. There wasn’t much inside. A few pornos and socks. The priest picked up a porno, the March issue of Penthouse, and thumbed through it. He nodded and rolled it up. After shutting the window, he eyeballed the poorly lit…
Moral crossroads
A man is worth nothing without integrity. He has to wake up, look in the mirror, and feel secure knowing he will do the right thing when called upon. Yet there no shame in admitting when one’s weak. That shows strength of character. Sometimes we’re faced with an impossible situation that requires reflection, honesty, and…
Mer Rouge (Part 28)
His eyes grew heavy and his mind wandered. It was another lonely road to god knows where in a godforsaken land just south of the Arkansas border. The priest hadn’t felt the comfort of a warm bed in days and the gas gauge was still reading a quarter tank despite driving it over a hundred…
Mer Rouge (part 27)
On the empty shores of the Boeuf River, with the calm moonlight above, the brothers dumped the half naked body of the police officer into the miry waters and then drifted on into West Carrol Parish where they concealed the abducted Oak Ridge cruiser under brush near an abandoned cotton field. Then they wandered three…
Mer Rouge (Part 26)
It was sundown when the Priest rolled into Morehouse Parish. On the outskirts of Oak Ridge, he saw the abandoned Harley and sidecar off to the side of the lonesome highway. He pulled over and stepped out of the Gremlin with the Smith & Wesson ready. The engine ran with the front lights shining onto…
The legend of boggy creek
If I have to go out and do research, you know you done fucked up. Which is exactly what Charles P. Pierce (not to be confused with Charles B. Pierce) of Esquire magazine did. Get a load of this article: https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/politics/a71138108/correspondents-dinner-shooting/ My initial thoughts were ‘I don’t give a shit about this guy’s personal experience…
Mer Rouge (Part 25)
Sirens wailed. Smoke from the burning barbershop towered into the sky. The priest looked to the other side of the road and saw another column of black smolder rising above the buildings. He bolted in its direction. A block and a half away, he found his beige Chrysler set ablaze. With sirens ringing nearer, the…
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