Sharing the Green?

Dreamcatcher hanging at very top of the wall. Wall is painted pumpkin orange.Like the pic? That’s the dreamcatcher Pam got me for Christmas. According to her, it hangs almost dead-center over my crash bunk in my office. Which is kind of a bonus, really, considering I had Billy here to help me hang it the first time, but…things didn’t quite work out.

Couple weeks back, I hunted around in my stuff looking for a push pin. I figured it’d be perfect for the dreamcatcher since the thing weighs all of about a half ounce. Couldn’t find one. (Keep that in mind, that’s today’s foreshadowing.) So, we used a clear plastic Command hook. Boom. Thing went right up.

Only, it didn’t stay up. I didn’t even know it had come down ’til I was changing the pillowcase for my new bamboo pillow, and found it stuck against the wall. With Billy out of town, I just put the dreamcatcher aside. It could wait until he came in on Monday. But, the other night, unable to sleep because I’d been working on a new screenplay, I kept thinking about it. Giving my fingers a rest, I decided to check my box of thumb tacks again, as if a push pin would magically appear. I’d already sifted the tin twice. Billy had gone through it, too, to double check. Nope, just the thumb tacks we’d bought and used at a party to hold down tablecloths.

I’d like to tell you it was St. Patrick’s Day night, and I opened this tin, and a green push pin magically appeared. Or, that it showed up out of nowhere just after midnight and into the 18th, Dad’s official birthday. I’d like to believe it just appeared there in the tin somehow, Special Delivery from the great beyond. But, I know that isn’t true. How a green push pin that Pam’s never seen wound up in that well-sifted tin, I don’t know. I can’t explain it. The other day, I was actually thinking of stopping at Staples and buying a whole package of push pins, just because I still needed one. But nope. There it was. Right on top. Green, no less, the color I wanted because my office is painted pumpkin orange. The ceiling fan is brown, and a bit of green fits in perfect with the anti-Martha Stewart Halloween décor.

A single push pin. Sitting atop a pile of nothing but plain ol’ thumb tacks. (Yes, I’m that anal. I poured them out into a cup and went through them one-by-one. Thumb tacks. Exclusively thumb tacks.)

So, my dreamcatcher is up. I used a 4×4 chunk of wood to pound it in because I happened to have it handy on my desk. End of story.

Except… I do keep thinking about it. Mouse sure didn’t paw it into that old Adagio tea tin. The cats aren’t likely suspects either. Kinda crazy, huh? (The thing showing up, I mean, not me.)

Well, then again…



Currently listening to: “How Soon Is Now” by The Smiths

Spooky Bash V

I know, it’s early, but the way the dates fell, had to do our annual Halloween party this past Saturday night. And, while it was a little warmer than we’d hoped (thanks for nothing, Hurricane Matthew, so much for you sucking up some moisture in your wake!), things worked out pretty well. Was a little too humid for the fire to really get roaring, but, by the same token, we didn’t exactly need a fire given how warm it still is. The bug zapper? Boy did that thing get a workout! Thought at one point we’d snagged a dragon in there. Sounded like we were electrocuting Ted Bundy. Kinda fitting, when you think about it.

Rat on a stump being sawed in half. Creepy bat hanging from the front porch ceiling.

Changed up the front décor a little, and while it was a bit buggy to spend a whole lot of time outside, we did manage to do some guitar playing. Billy, James and I tried Proud Mary for the first time, with Margaret and James doing vocals. Our best? Uh…no, to be sure. But, November 5th is right around the corner and that’s James and Amanda’s baby shower (did I mention they first met up at one of our parties?), so we plan to be a little smoother on that one.

Skeleton hanging out with cookies.

So, our Halloween party is outa the way, but still got the Cape Coral Spooktacular comin’ up, and of course, Halloween Weekend at BackStreets. If I’m lucky? Sometime this week or next, I’ll finally be able to catch Blair Witch before it leaves the theatres. Here’s hoping…


Currently listening to: “Where the Wild Roses Grow” by Nick Cave & the Bad
Seeds (feat. Kylie Minogue)

A Few Simple Things

Cover to Simple Things, an anthologyLots going on the past couple of weeks and plenty to catch everyone up on, but first things first. The blog. No, not forgotten, but tried doing the trendy thing and using Facebook for updates. Can’t stand Facebook, though, the Replies function sucks, so, while I’ll keep sharing stuff there, back to blogging. That blogging is now considered ‘old school’? Well, that’s tech for you, eh?

On to this week’s good news. Couple months back, got a tip on a new horror anthology that was looking for subs. The book’s premise was, ordinary, everyday, simple things that had the potential to be forces of evil. The kinds of things you’d find in a secondhand store, thrift shop, you know the type of place I’m talking about. Well, the summer’s been crazy what with some family issues, some travel (planned & unplanned), things going on here at the house and life in general. I almost bailed out on the story twice. I started a couple of times, things went haywire outside of writing, and it got real iffy for a while.

The good thing was, I had a concept I felt was solid, had a decent idea of where I wanted to go with it, and figured unless I hit the wall deadline-wise, I’d find a way to carve out the time and make it happen, especially because the guy who tipped me is a great storyteller and was going to be running the show. Lo and behold, got on a roll a few days before relatives came to town, stayed up three nights straight to finish the first draft, went three days on 8 hours sleep to get a really good final done, and, even though Pam was out of town (she always sends out my attachments because my software is so out of date), it got there.

I was sent the contract for Simple Things, by Lycan Valley Press, last Friday. Cover appears.well, somewhere in here. Damned if I know. Release date is – you guessed it – October, just in time for Halloween. I’m not gonna spoil anything, so click thru to see who I’m lucky enough to be sharing the table of contents with – it’s an impressive list of fellow sickos. Also have subs out at a couple of other new places, and will update on that as I hear those tales’ fates. In the meantime,  working on two new stories, one that’s likely to go into my next anthology because I’m not sure there’s a mag or publisher out there looking for material this unspeakable, but if any fellow scribes or avid readers are aware of an outlet looking for a story you’d describe in a word as: reprehensible, let me know. Hope all you guys out there are doing well, and enjoying the summer as much as I am.

Currently listening to: “Let the Day Begin” by The Call

“Merciless”? Yup, I can unite behind that.

On Twitter & FB, I’ve avoided labeling the Paris attackers thus far, b/c I’m willing to let the French investigate and get some hard intel. But I’ll use this for now:

<<witnesses described militants shouting “God is great” in Arabic before opening fire.>>

That’s the N.Y. Times, nine hours ago, feeling confident enough to run that, knowing what it would suggest. As well, we have confirmation from French authorities that 7 of 8 dead “extremists” involved were ‘suicide bombers’. And…we kinda know where that tactic points. Or, was pointing, prior to Francois  Hollande’s statement saying ISIS is to blame, and ISIS themselves (or ISIL, or IS, whatever they’re calling themselves this week) taking responsibility.

For me, here’s what it comes down to. If it pans out that these were muslim extremists, can we all, finally, admit we are at war with at least part of Islam? I know, it’s not every muslim. I’m w/everyone who keeps bringing that up. I used to have really cool muslim neighbors. They stood w/us in the street, crying after 9/11. I think Muhammad Ali is a pretty good guy. And so on. So how about this. Let’s draw a distinction between people like Muhammad Ali and “radical extremist muslims/groups” and go to war with them? Isn’t that fair? If people are really going to “unite” as French President Hollande has called for, how about uniting behind policies that make simple designations, such as: Muslim? Cool. All good. Muslim who calls for Jihad or participates in beheadings? Instant extermination.

I could get behind that, couldn’t you?

My fear, of course, is that handwringer politicians who are driven by polls and maintaining their status in the approval-rating popularity contest, don’t want to be labeled as “religious bigots” or “anti-muslim” or anything that won’t look good when seen on the news.

Are current officeholders in any nation (especially the U.S)., currently strong enough to start ignoring rhetoric and engage this war with part of Islam in order to stop the bad guys from not just overtaking our countries, but overtaking the muslim good guys as well? Me? I’m not holdin’ my breath.

Folks, if civilization is a well-constructed home, with many rooms for many different people, with thousands of interlocking parts that fit together, even if some are misaligned in places? These radicals/extremists/fundamentalists are the termites bent on tearing it all down. And, taking the group hug, “all we need to do is understand them…” approach will never work. You can’t coexist with people who don’t want to coexist, but rather, want to convert or kill you. Clearly, they don’t care about death. They don’t care about themselves. They don’t care, even, about fellow muslims, because if you were at that concert hall? You weren’t muslim enough. If you were walking down the street to a French restaurant? You weren’t muslim enough. If you went to go see a soccer game? You aren’t muslim enough. Because we know that France has plenty of peaceful muslims. Undoubtedly, a few were either killed or injured just so this group of scumbags could send their message.

In all of history, can you think of a time when it was ever, “all of them”? I mean, with WWII, it wasn’t all Germans, it was the Nazis. So yeah, I get it. It isn’t all muslims. But…I’m tired of hearing that. It’s definitely part of Islam, and that part is growing, spreading, and these sorts of things continue to happen. Since we know that to be the truth, my desire is to see politicians—I don’t care what party they belong to—grow some (figurative) balls, and start fighting that war. We didn’t have to kill every German in order to defeat the Nazis. But we had to fight those Nazis hard, for a long time, and viciously, to beat them. And, they killed millions. They were bent on exterminating an entire religion, plus those they considered ‘undesirable’. ISIS/these religious extremists? Not so different. I hate making comparisons where tragedy is concerned, but yesterday, “only” 153 died. A jumbo jet crash usually kills more.  Someone on FB or Twitter—can’t remember at the moment, things were happening so fast—who claimed to be from France said: This is our 9/11!

Is it? Perhaps. But part of me is reluctant to believe the French, or Europe in general, will see it that way. I think that for it to be treated like 9/11, the Eiffel Tower would need to be reduced to rubble. I believe that as mind-boggling as the death toll is for the French right now, twenty times the number dead and ten times the damage would be required. And, that isn’t just so that the numbers would more closely match, please don’t think that. I have this feeling, however,  that it would take something to make this type of attack seem like the attack on Charlie Hebdo to actually jolt Europe into actively, determinedly, engaging in a war with (part of) Islam. And that’s sad. It shouldn’t. The attack on Charlie Hebdo alone should have been enough. That outrage should have triggered the words Hollande delivered yesterday, about retribution being “merciless”.

So, knowing action won’t be immediat, I’ll give him some time. Rushing never results in the best results. But I’ll expect serious action in the new year, that’s for damn sure. I’ll expect French troops being deployed to go after ISIS, wherever they may be. That’s merciless. That’s determined. That’s the kind of action it’s going to take in order to keep civilization—and peaceful muslims—from being overrun, consumed, and destroyed. Sure hope whoever’s in charge in France next is up for that. And in Britain. And Germany. And especially here.

But again…not holdin’ my breath.

The Shirt Says It All

Well, maybe not. How’s this: Got usable blood? If so, and I’ve talked about this before, you may be able to help out someone who really, really needs it. Trust me, now that I’ve done it several times, I can tell you you will not miss it. 1 pint. Or, maybe just plasma. Or, platelets.

I went to the OneBlood center in Ft. Myers yesterday expecting to donate platelets. I have a high platelet count, and platelets are needed by cancer patients and people with all sorts of hideous diseases I don’t wanna bring you down mentioning – but my Dad had one of ’em, and when he needed it? Blood was there because of people who donated. I was told when I was diagnosed as a diabetic in the early 1980s, that I couldn’t donate. Earlier this year, though, I found out that had changed, and so I started.

This time? I’m not gonna lie. It didn’t work out. The vein that was being drawn on was working great for takin’ the red stuff out, but not so good for the return. (When donating platelets, they take out your blood, it goes through a machine, they separate the platelets, and give you back the rest.) Well, after nearly a pint had come out and some started going back into my arm-unfortunately not into that vein-they had to stop. Leaving me quite disappointed.

However, not a total loss. They did get some platelets out of me. Good. They got a bunch of plasma. Bonus. They hadda keep what they couldn’t put back, so bottom line? Just about all of that pint is gonna get used. I Periscoped the session. The replay fell off (I now have, but here’s the feed I uploaded to YouTube:

And I’m sure I made enough crude comments to make it worth a drop-in. So, since I was out of the game with about 50 of 71 mins to spare, and I won’t be able to donate my scheduled pint on the blood bus Halloween week, Pam decided we were ther, why wait ’til the 28th? (She, too, Periscoped, and while I managed a few good comments on hers, trolls who kept asking her to show her boobs and other girl parts) kept interrupting.  You can check out
Pam’s Periscope:

Anyway, getting back to what’s important. A lot of people can donate. Something like 5% of eligible donors actually do, though. Would I have done this 20 years ago if I’d known I could? Yeah, I would have. But knowing that when it really counted – when my Dad needed it – it was there? That certainly added to my desire to chip in. If you can, my bet is any bus you stop at would love to have you, and who knows? Maybe you’ll get a gift certificate out of it to a restaurant. Maybe a movie ticket (and heck, with the price of movie tickets these days? How can you go wrong?) Maybe you’ll get a tee shirt, like the one pictured here.

Joe wearing his Blood Donation Shirt

But you’ll also get this: You’ll know that somewhere, someone in bad shape – maybe a kid with leukemia, maybe a transplant patient, maybe a cop shot in the line of duty – is gonna be on the receiving end of your gift. And I can’t think of anything better than that.
Currently listening to: “The Calling” by Death in June

Startin’ Early

I’m referring, of course, to the Halloween festivities. And, while there’s no such thing as ‘too early’ when it comes to the spooky stuff, even I wouldn’t start carving jack-o-lanterns at Eastertime.

We hold our Halloween party the 2nd Saturday of October because that’s Bike Night, which means our friends in bands are usually off, our guests who aren’t into motorcycles are usually free, and the crew we have who don’t like it downtown when it’s that crowded all have good reason to come over…and to come hungry.

This time around, we did two new things. The first, was a ramen stromboli casserole. A while back, I blogged about a woman on YouTube who has the single greatest ramen video ever, entitled something like: How to feed 7 people on $3.35. (Watch it. It’s phenomenal.) Anyway, I saw the vid, and eventually, got Pam to try making it. Result? It was awesome. So, we’ve now introduced it to my sis & BiL, my nephews, and my Mom. They all love this thing. Recently, I told Pam I wanted to try doing a stromboli version, adding pepperoni and sausage to what’s usually just ramen, cheese & chicken. The thing went over huge. People ate almost an entire 3 quart crock pot worth and leftovers were scarce. Pam Periscoped the whole thing, so if you wanna try it out, check out the video.

My contribution this time around was dessert. In the past, we’ve done skeleton cakes, cake pops, cookies, etc. This time out, though, I wanted to do cake ball jack-o-lanterns, and make a little mini pumpkin graveyard. As you can see from the pic, they don’t make candy black triangles and smiles, but we did all right with the googly eyes and Pam did the one I really wanted, the one at the base of my vulture tree, with an icing pen. That, too, went over  great, and Pam’ll be posting the recipe and How To… shortly.

Haunted pumpkin cake balls in a mock graveyard.

Five pounds of meatballs in a combination marinara, chili sauce & grape jelly sauce. Killer. 3.5 lbs of chopped meat, seasoning, and melted cheese to put into tortillas or on Scoops. Yum. Tortilla rolls with ranch filling. A spinach dip and onion dip for homemade bread and a loaf of exceptionally fresh wheat mountain bread. Oh, and of course, plenty of beer and spirits (ha-ha) to keep the party going ’til around 5:30am. My drink original for this go-’round? A peanut butter & chocolate yogurt colada. As is often the case, the initial response to people I offered it to was: “What? You can’t mix that!” But of course, I did. And of course, people tried it. And…you guessed it—people loved it.

We had seven people crash out and stay the night this time, our largest group yet. By 5 pm on Sunday, though, the house was empty…barely.

And, for one of our parties? That’s the kinda success we like to brag about.

Scared? Fine, admit it & get on with it

“I was going to get back on that story, but I got so caught up in my workout that I just called it a night. I’ll get back to it tomorrow.”

“Duh! Went online and got stuck in a debate about Freddie Gray/Post Malone/all these Hollywood remakes/insert your personal waste-of-time here.”

“Did you see that episode of House of Cards/Game of Thrones/Orange is the New Black?! I just couldn’t stop watching!”

Crap. All of it, crap. But you already knew it. Let’s face it–you just didn’t, or still don’t, want to admit it.

So you’re a writer. You’ve got a new project you’re working on. Maybe it’s a novel. Maybe a screenplay. Maybe just a short story. And, you started it, and, you got going great guns, and, and.

And, you hit the wall. Maybe just for a night. Maybe it’s been a couple. But the bottom line is, you went off the rails, and you haven’t gotten back on track yet. Know why? Yeah, you probably do, you’re just uncomfortable about it. You got scared, that’s all. You got spooked for whatever reason and now you’re looking for excuses to explain your lack of progress. Truth is, you didn’t get stuck talking about whatever was trending on Twitter or Facebook, that’s just a convenient out. You don’t give a rat’s ass about Post Malone and most of you probably hadn’t heard of him until last night. You might’ve gotten caught up in an episode of somethingorother, sure.’s the 21st century. You have NetFlix. Or a DVR. Or OnDemand. You didn’t have to abandon that idea that had you banging away at the keyboard until all hours just a few nights ago.

So what? Who cares if you didn’t know for sure where you wanted to take it. You jumped into the tale and got wrapped up in it and then, when words weren’t flowing like pot smoke at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert, you hit the brakes. You. just. s-t-o-p-p-e-d.

Welcome to the club. Who hasn’t? You think King never tossed in the towel for a couple of nights when the Red Sox got into the playoffs and there was hope up in New England for a change? You think Dean Koontz never said, “Screw it,” and took off for a couple of days just to take a break? Wake up-this is writing. This isn’t Lucille Ball in I Love Lucy trying to stuff unwrapped chocolates down her shirt and into her hat and down her throat because it was success at that rate or failure, no in-between. Take it easy.

Good news is, there is a solution.

Take the night on. Put away the TV remote, give your stairmaster a break, pull the cord out of your router and just start going at it again. If it sucks? Who cares? You’ll know it soon enough. That’s part of the game. If you don’t know where you’re going, sit back with a hot chocolate or a cup of coffee and outline some possibilities. Just start thinking about the story again, that counts as progress. What brought you to the spot you reached before you ran aground will come back and want to play some more. That’s also part of the game. Don’t like where it takes you? No big deal. Unless you’re under contract, no one can force you to keep anything you write. That, my friends, is up to you. You’re 100% in control. Key thing is, though, being willing to lose control again and again and again at the keyboard to keep pushing forward. We all do this. I don’t know a single writer who doesn’t hit the skids once in a while. Pros get back at it right away, though. They know better than to let one day turn into three, then a week, and so on. If you haven’t been published, and keep letting things like uncertainty over where your story is going keep bogging you down? You’ll never be a pro. In fact, you’ll probably never be published. So, here’s advice from someone who isn’t King or Barker or J.K. Rowling, just a guy who’s been getting paid for the better part of 30 years, so I have some insight. Just clear the decks. No TV, no internet, no distractions. Just you and the keyboard and the expectation that you’re going to get somewhere. That tonight, your idea is going to wake up and come looking for you again, and you’ll be there to answer the door. Just believe that something is going to come of the session, good, bad or indifferent. That’s the only way to get to the end, folks, and reaching the end is the only way you’re going to know if you struck gold, or if you need to get back into the mines.

Put your helmet on, and make sure the batteries are fully charged. Happy writing.
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Currently listening to: “True Faith” by New Order

Holy Miniseries, Batman?

Cover to Villain & HeroAtlanta, couple of blocks from the Omni hotel, where we’re staying. Think it’s 1992, but maybe ’91. Me and Joe Linsner, the guy I was working with at the time, are waiting in a restaurant for a table, and the place is packed. Of course it is. It’s the Diamond Sales Seminar or whatever they called it, and the whole town is full of comic book people. Store owners, publishers, sales reps, business partners, supplies retailers – you name it, everyone is there. Along with a host of creators.

So, we’re starved, it’s been a long day, and we were sick of fast food. We wind up talking to some folks from DC comics, and the hostess tells us we’re looking at another 35 minutes or so, unless.

“Would you mind being seated together?”

I didn’t mind. Joe didn’t mind. The DC crew was in the same boat-starving and not terribly interested in continuing to forage. So, we get seated, order some drinks, start talking shop, and have a general good time.

Now, keep in mind, I was never a big comic book reader. Creepy and EERIE? Sure. House of Mystery? Chamber of Chills? You Will Believe In GHOSTS? That was my thing.  But, much of the conversation at dinner is superhero talk, which I was still enjoying, but mostly listening to. At one point, Vince (I believe it was Vince Letterio, but it’s been forever, so if I’m wrong, chalk it up to that) says, “You’re awful quiet.” (Which of course, I rarely am, and we’d met before, so he knew it.) I mentioned that whatever book they’d been talking wasn’t my thing. So he says, “C’mon-like you wouldn’t want to write a Batman miniseries.”

And, truth was, I couldn’t have cared less. I didn’t read Batman, I didn’t think the movies out at the time were very good, and while DC money would’ve been nice, only one thing made the possibility appealing, and I told him so.

“Only way I’d write a Batman mini is if I could add a villain to the rogues gallery.”

Huh??? That was the reaction. Vince, the woman and guy – think his name might’ve been Dave – couldn’t imagine why that would be my lone requirement. (I probably said ‘Demand’, but even I wasn’t that much of a hard-ass.) So, I explained:

“Batman never kills anyone of consequence. Sure, the Penguin’s always losing henchmen and the Joker’s goons are cannon fodder, but why would I want to try and tell a different version of the same story? Plus, unless you throw in a stranger, why would anyone ever set up shop in Gotham? Batman lives there for chrissakes! He’s always thwarting villains’ plans. Why not go be a bad guy in Aspen, or Dallas?”

Well, that gets things rolling. And sure enough, that subject carries through all the way to dessert, which Joe and I bail on. But Vince mentions to me before I split, something along the lines of, “You oughta stop by the booth and run that by so-and-so tomorrow.”

But I never did. Not that I wouldn’t have followed through should someone in charge been willing to give me the shot. The DC credit alone would have helped me further hype my comic, which was, at the time, Cry for Dawn. But I had tunnel-vision. I only wanted to focus on making Cry for Dawn bigger. Banking more Cry for Dawn stories. Finding artists good enough to stand alongside Joe between the covers. So I never tested those waters. What I did do, though, because guest appearances were becoming hot in crossovers and inter-publisher partnerships, was come up with my bad guy. And so, the seed for what would eventually become the Villain & Hero ashcan – released in 1993 – was planted.

This past week, I’ve been cleaning out my garage and locating a lot of old books. Stuff that goes back to 1989 and the genesis of Cry for Dawn, short stories that were originally slated for the book but never made it in because the title couldn’t stay on schedule, etc. And I thought, “You know, I could rework the Villain & Hero short story to bring it up to date, but pretty much leave it as it was otherwise.” I dunno if I’ll do anything with the character(s) beyond that, but you never know. I still have a lot of friends in comics, doing stuff here and there. Would I want to do another comic? A horror comic? No question. A superhero comic?

Probably not. But, and there’s always a but, isn’t there? I’d sure consider guesting somewhere. Maybe not DC (or maybe DC, though I have no clue if I still know anyone over there), but somewhere. Why not? I’d be happy to throw a villain at just about anybody if they’d let me wreak the kind of havoc I like without too much hand-wringing over who dies and how.

I’ll letcha know how it goes. Pam’s gonna be scanning the originals into the computer and spitting me out a file to start workin’ on. I’ve already reached out to an artist I think would do a good job bringing the key character to life

Maybe even death. We’ll see.


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Currently listening to: “Enchanted” by Stevie Nicks

The Angle On the Bill Cosby Story the Media Doesn’t Want to Touch

Picture of Bill Cosby sporting a suit and sunglassesOne of the things that gets me about the whole Cosby story is how no one’s actually talking about what kind of guy he must be to have done the things he’s been accused of. If allegations are proven true (possibly by his own words), Cosby, who’s been famous for decades and was at the pinnacle of his career, was worth well over a hundred mil plus. He was an attractive, intelligent, classy, mega-famous multi-talented funnyman. Basically? He could have had just about any woman he wanted. And, if one didn’t want him? He could have another one just like her without much effort. Considering the price of wining and dining a woman, getting her back to his room and knocking her out with quaaludes isn’t cheap per se, think about it. For about the same price, he could have hired stunning escorts of the highest caliber, who would have done anything to be on his call-back list. And, since money was no object, add this to the mix. Dozens of women have come forward now. What about those who haven’t? How many times did he take this risk, instead of just hiring pros? Even back then, a rape allegation would have had serious consequences, especially for a high-profile black entertainer. A scandal involving a paid escort, though? That hasn’t been terribly big news in Hollywood, uh, ever.

Cosby, though, while many of the women have been described as attractive, wasn’t just going after perfect 10s, so it doesn’t appear that this was solely about having to have women so gorgeous the average man would see them as being untouchable. And, he wasn’t just interested in having sex. If the allegations are true, he was into luring unsuspecting women to his room and raping them while they were unconscious or semi-conscious. Huh??? So much for the most eloquent of black leaders in modern-day America. Could turn out he’s no better than Andrew Luster. Perhaps just as sick, if not sicker. And, one can only wonder-if what’s been said about him is true.was it all a front all those years? Was Dr. Huxtable hiding a hideously reprehensible fetish behind the persona of the most beloved father in television?

The media doesn’t want to touch that part of it, though. Right now, it’s all a lot of, “This is so hard to believe, and yet he did admit in that deposition.” But that doesn’t even scratch the surface. If he’s admitting to that and paid off some of his accusers to keep this quiet? That would mean he was into raping women who not only couldn’t consent, in all likelihood they couldn’t even move. This wasn’t about pure beauty or the most unattainable celebrities. This was about luring, drugging and raping women who couldn’t have done much beside lay there. At what point are members of the media going to start exploring that side of this sordid story? That Cliff Huxtable had a thing for doing stuff to women as if they were corpses?

When is someone going to address the 400 lb gorilla in the corner that’s the question: Did Bill Cosby do things these women had to be unconscious for? Things that no one just looking to sleep with someone famous would consider doing? Come on-does anyone think Bill Cosby is so terrible in the sack he needed his partners unconscious? Because when you think about strangers hooking up for a one-night stand, what comes to mind is basic sex. Missionary, oral, stuff like that. If the women are telling the truth, though, Cosby needed them unconscious for some reason.

Andrew Luster was viewed as one sick individual. Right now, Cosby is laying low while his tarnished reputation unravels before the nation’s eyes. What happens when someone finally has the courage to ask: “Why would he need that?” I know if I were a journalist, I wouldn’t ignore that part of it, no matter how much people want to remember the 77 year old comedian as he was in Himself, or the man handing out messages to black youth in the asides on Fat Albert.

No Way…

Was there really a meeting between the person Joe considers the top celebrity in the world right now and the Sight Unseen Pictures team? Yup, it happened. Here’s the blog that explains how it all went down.

Read: Just So Happens… at the Sight Unseen Pictures blog.