I recently lost my favorite uncle, Bill Fabens. Bill was my uncle only by marriage, yet he was the one I was closest to, the uncle who always made me laugh, (he made everyone laugh with his wry wit) who always had my back, who believed in me, and treated me like his own son. The world is a poorer place without him. I awoke this morning with a single thought in my head, and it is this:  Death is a ruin in the forest.

There is something about a fresh, empty page in a notebook that stirs me. A fresh page is empty of evidence, devoid of distraction. It awaits completion - a blank slate waiting to be filled.

It speaks of possibilities - a never ending future of description. Not yet anything, it could become a poem, a song, a letter to a lover, a term paper, the beginning of a novel... or perhaps a note goodbye.

Each page is a fresh beginning, or can describe the end of something good, or something bad. Alpha and Omega wrapped in one, it's the unborn child of thought: intention awaiting completion.

It's the sun coming up on an empty road on your way somewhere new, uncertain what the day will bring. It comes with a sense of hope, of possible adventure, of new places, new experiences, new friends, new love.

An empty page waits for the pen as a lover awaits their beloved, for what is one without the other? Above all, an empty page makes you think about what could be once you begin.

Well, this blog is a new beginning for me. I have been a writer my entire life, but only recently has my writing really taken off. 'House of Apache Fires' has changed my life. It wasn't my first book, but readers love it, and it is incredibly humbling to hear their comments and read the wonderful reviews. I am currently at work on my 4th and 5th novels, and my 3rd, another WWII thriller, will be available soon, hopefully by the beginning of March. You can get HOAF here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OVA7AW6  

One of the things that successful writers do these days is blog. Having a 'social media platform' was never something Hemingway or F. Scott Fitzgerald had to worry about. I have to admit, it seems a bit like listening to yourself talk at this point, but I will try and keep the rants to a minimum, and instead try and post short essays, writing samples, and short stories. My writing will be the focus of this blog, not politics. I welcome comments, but please, if you feel that I'm wrong that strongly, perhaps you should start your own blog... I believe people have a right to their opinions, and to express their opinions, but snide comments, or overly argumentative posts will be deleted in the hopes of keeping this blog a place that people will enjoy. If you want to argue, please go to Facebook - that seems like what it's for these days.

What I want to focus on is telling stories. It's what I do best. I plan to fill these pages with little shorts - some designed to make you giggle, some designed to make you cry, all of them, hopefully, will make you think. I will express some viewpoints here, and as I'm middle-of-the-road in my politics, I will likely piss off both liberals and conservatives. I think as human beings, that we need to begin treating ALL human beings with respect, unless they are the kind of people who victimize others. I have zero use for people who use and hurt others. As far as I'm concerned, such animals are using up way too much good oxygen. I count most politicians in this group.

So, several times a week, I will attempt to entertain you, dear reader, with eloquent ramblings, essays, short stories, links to really cool gear, (I love the outdoors - they call it God's country for a reason) links to other writers and musicians I admire, and yes, the occasional rant. So, without further ado, I am going to post a story that is just for giggles, that I wrote one morning when I was in an odd mood. I recently lost my Uncle Bill, whom I know would really love this story. Bill, this is for you, wherever you are. I hope you enjoy it.



 

Tiger Bats

Morgan Jameson

At first everyone said it couldn't be done – that to combine species, their genus had to be close to each other – say, a turtle and a tortoise rather than a turtle and hare. Trouble is, no one cared about crossing a turtle and a tortoise, that is except one idiot in New Zealand. He ended up with something that looked exactly like a turtle, but had a life expectancy of 200 years. He called it a 'tortle'. Schmuck.

What they didn't count on was me. I came up with software to sort genome sequences faster than ever before. It involves a long string of algorithms working in sequence, so I won't go into the details, but it could identify similar strings and combine species in ways that had simply not been possible 10 years earlier. The whole key, after all, and what takes the most time, is identifying which strings of DNA control which characteristics. 

There were a few horror shows in the early days, I admit... and a few downright bad ideas. My Daschund Unicorn was one. I truthfully never expected that damn horn to keep growing like that. The only good thing was that they shed it every year.

A butterfly the size of a robin, with the intelligence of a cat but the gentle nature of a rabbit was my first success. Okay, it was really just a flying rabbit. You bought it in the pupal stage, (no one except a scientist could stomach the caterpillar stage) and when it hatched, it imprinted on whomever was in the room. I understand Meryl Streep bought one. That little gem made me a multi-billionaire.

The Army was mighty interested in the possibilities of my software, and in my defense, although they offered me a fortune to run a lab somewhere in the Nevada desert, I wouldn't do it. I told them that 'Science had no master', a line that also worked really swell at cocktail parties on science groupies. I nailed a lot of treehugger chicks using that line, but the truth is, after the article in Newsweek and the 60 minutes interview, I'd begun viewing what I did as art – their words, not mine – but a much nicer way to think about what you did rather than... Dammit, there it is again. I wonder how long those bars on the windows will hold?

Where was I? Oh yeah. Sure, there were some religious nuts that said I was playing God, that what I was creating were monstrosities, but most people thought it was pretty cool. I did create that one dolphin-shark thing for the Navy... no desert lab involved by the way, but from what I heard, it never made it through trials - the damn things were just too aggressive. They loved to fight too much, and were always killing each other. Shit, there's that sound again. I'll try and hurry.

Personally, I lay it at the feet of the Chinese. It was a private contract – very lucrative, but really, it wasn't the money which attracted me. Frankly the idea of making a cross between a snow leopard and an eagle really appealed to me. Everything went through a third party in Switzerland, but really, who the hell comes up with that much snow leopard DNA? The Chinese of course. The state department was pretty upset, and trotted out the confidentiality agreement I'd signed with the Navy, but in the end they settled for a similarly bio-engineered design: the Tiger Bat.

I had no control of the specs this time, the Pentagon made those decisions, but it's basically a Bengal tiger, with Sabertooth incisors, wearing the wings of a bat. What really makes it special is that it has the intelligence of an elephant. (I couldn't use the dolphin sequence again, for reasons too technically boring to relate here – you'll have to trust me – dolphin genes just wouldn't work.) 

As it turned out though, the thing that made it most dangerous was the reptile genes I spliced in. Shoot the wings off it, they'd grow back. Sure, it'd take a couple months, but in the meantime you still had a smart, pissed off Bengal with the teeth of a Sabertooth wandering around. A simple bullet hole in the wing would heal in just a few days, and didn't even hurt – it had no nerve endings in most of the wing.

I just heard glass break, so I'd better go. How was I to know they'd retain the defensive pack instincts of the African elephant I used as a gene donor? They don't like us much, and since the skull had to be re-engineered to hold a bigger brain, I had to strengthen it, along with the skeleton and neck muscles. I'm pretty proud of the fact that most .50 caliber bullets and even a 20mm will pretty much bounce off the head. That took some doing, although in retrospect, it might not have been one of my better