Is it Halftime yet? – Albert

It is very important to know whether or not it is half-time yet. Is it half-time yet? Is it? Is it half-time yet?

Given over then, livened over then, this other thing, crabdaplinar in scope, noodles and whey, won over then, thos slope, this gibletted…
nownownow…no need to get crandiplaplicler now is’it? Now now now.

– from the poetry of nobody no longer doodling series by Albert Jones (never printed).

Published in: on July 27, 2012 at 9:45 pm  Leave a Comment  

Henry Mills Diary

We laid down Anna Belle today for good. Mary cried, but she didn’t do all the things I thought she might. Then we carted her little casket over to the cemetery and placed in a hole. Mary cried a little bit there too, but still she didn’t do nothing drastic. Like I wrote before, Mary had taken immediately to talking strangely about the event, of how Anna Belle walked outside and why. She blamed the Densmore sisters down the hill for causing Mary to leave the house at night since one day Anna Belle walked down the road and ended up in their kitchen. She was only four. That was last year. The sisters brought her right back, but first they cleaned her up a little and put something on a little rash she’d developed from poison oak along the way.

The night before last Mary walked down to the Densmore house and took all her clothes off and started screaming “Witches! Witches! Witches!” The ladies didn’t come out. I heard her when she changed her chant to high pitched screams. I ran as fast as I could to the Densmore place and I tackled my wife and put a gag around her mouth, but she bit it off and started screaming “Witches!” again. I had no choice but to strike my own wife. She went soft like a rag and I carried her home. One of the Densmore sisters came out and asked if there was anything she could do and I said no. The other one was afraid beyond all explanation of fear is what that one sister told me, because she’d dabbled before in the mysteries, that had been the story anyway, and wondered if perhaps she had lain a spell upon our daughter without knowing it. I told her I didn’t think any kind of hocus pocus was strong enough to cause a girl to lose her life like my Anna Belle did, but nobody will ever know if Anna Belle was walking to the sisters house.

It doesn’t matter much anymore. The doctor gave Mary something and she’s sleeping peacefully now, but I’m not sure what it is that’s going to take place in her head in the next few months. I’m overwhelmed right now and searching for answers from God. Mary told me yesterday that she doesn’t believe in God anymore and I told her she was foolish for thinking that, but deep down I wondered myself and I got me out a bottle of whiskey and sat there by myself and wondered and wondered and wondered. I’m still wondering tonight. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get an answer. I don’t know.
I gotta quit. I hear Mary stirring.

It wasn’t nothing. Mary’s sleeping sound, but I don’t remember where I was going. I know it had to do with Anna Belle and Mary. We might have to quit this mountain. Since the war everything has gone to hell. I still got a little bit of money, but I told the doctor about Mary and what she did and he said it don’t sound good. He said I should keep an eye on her and if it looks like she’s addled that I should call him. Mary’s addled for sure. I know that. You just don’t know what’s going on inside her head anymore. I guess she loved Anna Belle more than even I knew, but love don’t explain why someone would want to go and give up their own life when one life’s been lost already. I guess she depended on Anna Belle. Hell, I did too, but I don’t want to go taking off my clothes and running naked down the road to the Densmore sisters house. That’s not right. If anything at all the only thing that’s changed with me since Anna Belle died was that I drink a little bit more than I used to. It helps take the pain away. I’ve had too much pain. I don’t want any more pain. Pain hurts.
That’s five drinks so far. Gotta a good number more left in this bottle. It’s kind of better to be lost like this than to have to think about my life. I’m sleepy though. Goodnight for now, journal.

Published in: on July 21, 2012 at 7:47 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Joey Kantor Query (letters never sent)- Albert

Dear Editor,

Is Christ dead in America? I don’t mean the regular practice of the Christian religion, but the teachings of Jesus, that of love, giving away all that you own to follow Him, loving your neighbor as yourself, loving your enemy? Ask a Christian this question and you will most likely be set straight real quick that, no, Christ is by no means dead, that He is alive and well. But is He?

If this hypothetical Christian is telling the truth then why is there a large mass of Christians in America adamant about following the Republican Party’s teachings that people should have to take care of themselves without government aid, that handouts are a path to a great evil called Socialism which insists on citizens helping citizens, that health care, the keeper of life itself, should only be given to those who are worthy of it, that is, can afford to pay for it. Also, if the Republican Party is supposedly the moral leader in the country, far ahead of the Democratic Party, then why are the Democrats much more in line with the teachings of the Republican Party’s defacto leader Jesus Christ who never once counted self-preservation over community well-being as an ideal?

I’m interested in all of the contradictions concerning Christianity in today’s Republican party. I would like to write an article and explore this subject. It intrigues me that Americans today who claim to be Republicans and therefore the standard bearers of morality represent some of the most un-Christian notions going around today. You would be hard pressed to find a Republican who would suggest giving everything away and following Him. Yet, at the same time, they will swear that they follow Jesus’ teachings literally. Warren Buffett has suggested to them that it is time to practice this sort of Christianity and was rebuffed by every Republican within hearing distance. It doesn’t add up.

I am a former staff writer for the Paradise Post Newspaper in California. Although unpublished as a novelist, I have written three of them. I am also an award-winning short story writer. My stories have appeared in The Dudley Review, Alchemy on Sunday and 971menu. I also have a blog at

On the academic front, I have a Masters in mythological studies with emphasis in depth psychology. I studied spirituality, art and religion from around the world.

The Fargo Kantrowitz’z Literary Campsite