Guardian Angst

This is a short story rough, a work in progress.

* * *
Guardian Angst

I came home to my apartment, to find my guardian angel.

As soon as I saw him, I knew all the things angels ask us to forget. We’re not supposed to remember them, because we’re supposed to think we’re on our own. That helps us act with the most pure intent possible. Their theory is that without knowing the safety net we can have, we will better learn to balance will and structure before we die and go to whatever’s after. I don’t know if it’s 100% true, but it’s a bit outside of my experience so who am I to judge?

I dropped my keys on my desk. “I thought we’re only supposed to see you angels in the most dire circumstances.”

“That’s right,” my angel said. “You’re driving me crazy! Do you know how hard you make me work? Do you know what it’s like when an angel goes crazy?”

“What are you talking about? I’m just – you know, I’m doing my thing. I’m exploring art, I’m working at my job…”

“You’re courting death, destruction and mayhem every day of your life. Every second! Good Lord, you can’t even be safe sitting at home. The time you spend on the Internet…the scams, the cults…then when you go outside. Do you know how many times last week I had to steer you away from a certain end?” He sighed. “I’ll give you a clue. That girl you got the wrong number from at the bar? It was the right number. I changed it. She’s a runaway with a father in the mafia.”

I blinked. “Okay. But how am I supposed to know that? I mean, what do you want from me?” I let my voice raise a little. Sure, they having nearly infinite power and benevolence tempered by love of God and all His creations, and also all the other angels all trying to do well with everything. But I get to say something. “I’m trying to do the best with my human experience, my, my living experiment that’s me here! The first real talk I can remember, and you’re just going to give me a bunch of crap because I don’t know what I’m doing? Why don’t you tell me what I *should* be doing?”

“Because that’s not the rules!”

I put my hands on my hips, of all things, feeling foolish but not enough to stop. “Should I just live the safest life possible?”

“Of course not!” My angel said, offended. “You just try so many things, and then I put good things in front of you and you just run away! You’re a good-hearted mortal. It’s just so strange how you do and then you don’t listen to yourself. I need you to get on a path and stick with it! You’re making me crazy here!”

“How do I know you’re not a guardian devil?”

It looked deeply wounded, and said nothing. I felt bad now. I knew, without even knowing it was so beyond question – this was a good being who wanted the best for me his whole life. If it was even gendered of course.

“Okay, look.” I sighed. “I’d love to hear from you how I can do better. Okay? I’m trying without a manual here.”

It’s face was tortured. “It’s stretching things just to talk this much to you.” Then an expression passed it’s face, the purest guilt and pain across such a face of clarity, light and benevolence was truly awful to see. It made me want to weep.

“Maybe we can work out a deal,” it said. “If you just…”

I stopped him suddenly. “Don’t tell me.”

“What?” his eyes stricken.

“Whatever you were about to say. I don’t want to hear it. I changed my mind.” I grit my teeth. “Whatever you tell me will mean that I’m not living *my life*.”

It began to cry. “But what will I do? Every – every time, every day, it’s just so hard!”

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a burden to you.” I wanted to make him feel better, but actual bitterness slipped through which surprised me. Was I really that difficult? I realized it probably knew my thoughts anyway, so I might as well hear them. “I’m not out here robbing banks or beating people up,” I said. “I’m just trying to do my thing.”

I looked at the bags beneath his glowing eyes. His hair was a mess. It was supposed to be some glorious glowing mane, but all kinds of stuff was stuck in it. I looked a bit closer, and it looked like twisting clumps of unproductive thoughts.

I felt bad for him. “Look man-“

“I’m not a human!”

“Okay, okay! I believe you. Look…higher being, we’re taking this moment to talk, right?” I pointed him towards my chair. “Why don’t you take a seat.”


“Take a break. Let’s talk it through.”

It looked over at my chair. “I don’t know if I have taken the time to sit down for … three centuries.”

I spread my hands. “I’m right here. You can still keep me from doing harm. Maybe I’ll be safer if you’re sitting, or something? Less chance something will get knocked off a bookshelf?” I nudged him towards the chair. “Just take a load off”

He sighed and sat, closing his eyes. Flaming tears of sunlight came poured from underneath his glorious eyelashes.

On impulse I went to the fridge, brought back a couple beers, and held one out for him. He opened his eyes and looked at it, without raising his hands. I pushed it into his chest until he grasped it. He held it in his hand.

“It feels cold.”

“That’s right.”

“I understand some humans prefer their beers warm.”

“Yeah, they’re just wrong. Give it a try.”

He took a sip and made a face. “It tastes awful.”

“Okay. Just take a sip any time you feel like disagreeing with me. Now let’s talk about you for a bit.”

The angel took a sip, but said nothing, watching me almost suspiciously.

I sat at my desk chair across from him. “When’s the last time you just enjoyed something for you?”

“I enjoy things all the time! The birth of babies, the growth of a flower, peaceful transitions in to the afterlife, helping keep a human protected from bad paths until they have a chance to grow…”

“No, no. Not things for other people. When is the last time you had a chance to just enjoy a thing because it was something good for you. Not because it was helpful to any other being.”

He thought long and hard. His eyes drifted into a misty glow.

“Several thousand years ago, I was floating over the pacific. There were fewer humans to manage then. In the time between one islander dying and another being born, I was distracted by…the most amazing dawn. It was just after a mighty storm and the sky was almost cloudless, with just a few puffs of clouds to show their beauty against the multicolored sky. The mostly placid but still-moving ocean beneath me. A squad of dolphins enjoying the sun rising before us. They might have even seen me, some nonhuman creatures can have an easier time with that. We all floated in that moment, them in the water and me in the air just about it, as we bore silent witness to God’s creation. A beauty that…”

He took another sip. “That was not for disagreement,” he clarified. “A beauty that it is easy to forget about.”

I nodded. “Alright.” I cracked open my own beer. “Look, you’ve been with me my whole life, and I appreciate it. I don’t even know how many things you’ve saved me from-”

“You have no God-damn idea,” he said. Shocked at his own words, he took another sip. “Hits fast!”

“Sure does. So how about you be kind to you for a bit? Seems to me you’re close to cracking.”

The angel started at me for a second, and then began to cry. Great job, I thought to myself. You made your angel cry. “Alright, come here being.” I held my eyes open.

It looked at me, as if it couldn’t stand to trust me. “Come on, I’m here. It’s okay.”

It came up out of the chair, and I gave it a hug.

I wrapped my arms around it, and it wrapped it’s arms around me, and I could feel a bit of its infinite power. But also, its infinite sadness. I just stayed there with it, trying not to think about how it could probably keep crying until I grew old and died, and then some. I could spare this moment, and quite a few more. So I just gave him the attention he deserved for each moment.

Eventually it separated. “Thank you,” it said. “I’m really grateful. I don’t have many other beings I can talk to.”

“Really?” I shook my head. “What about, you know, other angels?”

“They’ve all got the same things to deal with. They never tire. They can’t allow themselves to wait a moment.”

“How about…” I wondered. “Do you have a guardian angel for yourself?”

“No! Don’t be insane.”

“How would you know? Maybe you would be set to not remember them unless they’re around, like you are for me.”

The angel paused. It took another sip. “This beer does make such an idea easier to contemplate.”

“That’s it’s job.”

“I don’t think so,” it said at last. “We are less of the experience of free will combined with less certainty.”

“Really?” I shook my head in sympathy. “Other angels are largely in the same boat as you, aren’t they?”

The angel considered it. “I guess they’ve all got the same things to deal with. They never tire. They can’t allow themselves to wait a moment.”

“Well, maybe you aren’t as alone as you think? But also, I sure appreciate you. Appreciate yourself too.”

It smiled. “Thanks, -” and it mentioned a name I had never heard before, that I also knew from the depths of my being was mine. Perhaps the name was beyond time. If there was anything to reincarnation, this might be the name of the me that experienced them all.

“You’re welcome,” I said in return.

It moved a bit away from me, and placed a hand on my shoulder. It’s wings spread out, going through the walls of my space.

“You might not remember this, but I remember you. I’ll keep protecting you, and I’ll also find a way to be kind to me. I ask the same for you, of you.”

I nodded. “Easy to say, hard to do, I know.” Not knowing what else to do, I somewhat awkwardly shook his hand. He laughed, wiped away some his streaming sunlight tears, and disappeared.

I woke up, and found myself staring at Facebook. What was I about to write again?

I closed my browser. Maybe it wasn’t a good use of today to have more arguments with strangers.

It was beautiful outside. No matter what the weather was. It was time to take a walk and enjoy all of this life.

But maybe I’d stay inside a couple of minutes more. Maybe meditate or something. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt it might be good to stay in until someone had fully sobered up.

The Jung and the Restless

I enjoy Carl Jung, for all of his potential faults. He saw he deep into the Western psyche and the symbolism that tends to be beneath it, and brought forth many great truths from a restless, tireless and lifelong labour of outer and inner exploration.

Here’s an ebook with some great thoughts from him, that I wholeheartedly recommend.

Man and His Symbols

Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle

Memories, Dreams, Reflections

A new never-before-seen tale continues my publishing streak!

Enter the shadowy secret world of the Bros, and experience their quandary in dealing with…a whole new kind of bro.


Continuing my publishing streak, I’m so proud to announce a revised and updated version of “My Undead Dad”, complete with a grand new cover.


An undead breadwinner, crawling to work to support his family.

After much tribulation, my satire and adventure novel is complete and published!

Check it out here:

Many thanks to all who supported me in this adventure.

A truly magnificent cover.

Trump so far: 3 weeks in review

So, 3 weeks in now to the Donald Trump presidency. Let’s review.

  • Trump has not even diversified and distanced himself from his businesses to the degree that he promised.

Which in itself would be completely insufficient to meet the Constitution anyway. Just noting he hasn’t even followed through on his completely insufficient lie.

  • Trump confirmed through his spokesperson that he will simply never release his tax return.
  • Trump, who is utterly reckless in every other subject he talks about, refused to criticize Putin to the point where he *equated the US with Putin’s dictatorship*. Repeatedly. On video.

This stands out enough that it seems likely there is some truly awful blackmail on Trump, or that $19b payment suggested in the intelligence memo is true. It could also be that he just has that huge a man-crush on Putin. Maybe all three.

Most importantly, regardless of why, it is 100% clear that  Trump can’t be trusted *even more than usual* on any topic involving Putin and thus Russia.

  • Trump just confirmed Betsy Devos for Secretary of Education – an appointee so completely unqualified that she couldn’t answer simple questions a grade school principal would have to know. Note that this goes far beyond politics. If she disagreed with politics she would have an answer that was disagreeable. *She lacked answers that would even show a basic knowledge.*

Devos has also contributed more to Trump and Pence than any other cabinet appointee in history.

It thus becomes pretty clear that she purchased this appointment, which will directly and negatively affect the futures of our nation’s children.

  • Trump has confirmed his complete and total disrespect for the rule of law, by:
    a) attacking judges who ruled against him
    b) publicly offering to attack state Senators who make things difficult for his buddies
  • Trump has confirmed his complete and total disrespect for simple facts, with not only the amazing “alternative facts” marathon, his attempts to dispute simple arithmetic with the inauguration count on which he *quadrupled* down – but the fact that Kellyanne Conway repeated the “Bowling Green Massacre” falsehood *three separate times* before she was busted on it.

Also note that Sean Spicer tried to say there was an Islamist attack in Atlanta *three times* before he was finally busted on it. The only terror attacks in Atlanta have come from right-wing Christians, who of course are always lone wolves.

  • Trump is not even *running* his administration. It appears that he didn’t even read the Executive Order he signed that put Bannon on the National Security Council.

He spends more time watching CNN and Fox than on policy, and his own people have confirmed repeatedly that he doesn’t like to read.

So once again, like GWB, his staff are running things. And they are apparently divided in two camps – Bannon’s camp and Priebus’ camp.

My takeaways:

  • We must continue to be focused on facts, and pursue them. But we also should not ever expect anything straightforward from this administration, or even anything consistently logical with their own perceived self interest.

We must walk the line of not normalizing this shit show, while also not being distracted from a pragmatic focus of what they’re doing behind the scenes.

  • We lost the Devos fight – the right way. We focused attention on what was exactly wrong about it, and we made sure it happened without any Democratic party help.

We need to continue this the entire way. If something is unacceptable, we must not accept it and we must make very clear why it is unacceptable.

  • They snuck in with a minority, and are governing like they’re a majority. They and their followers want to put a lot of things through while they have this chance. We must keep on top of these actions, and resist every inch of it.

This is the work.

Two-Fisted Jesus Tales, Book 1: The Book of the Job

After training in secret waiting for the sign, this novel is almost ready to release upon the world!

I.e., pre-orders will be available soon. If you want to make sure you’re notified, join my mailing list below. These email addresses will never be shared with any third party, and will only be for letting you know about this or other works of mine you might care about.

I thank you!


~j : )


So, several years behind the rest of the so-called civilized world that includes America, I have finally watched the final episode of the Sopranos. Including it’s infamous ending, for which let’s just not bother with spoiler alerts because the show ended like 8 years ago.

In the ending, which has been built up to for years and specifically paved by the prior season, Tony Soprano is sitting in a diner with most of his nuclear family in a rare happy and peaceful moment when all is visibly okay. They are listening to “Don’t Stop Believing” on the table jukebox, a man with ambiguous and possibly ominous importance walks past him at the table, and his daughter Meadow is presumably about to enter the diner when…the screen cuts to black. And that’s it.

Which is kind of funny in it’s own way. A prank, a stunt ending. But as a story ending, it’s not satisfying. David Chase, the writer-director-producer, has said that he didn’t want a more resolved ending for artistic reasons. I’ve previously considered that this might really have been a cop-out, a way of avoiding the pressure to create an ending that would satisfy the viewers of a very beloved show. But I reserved judgement until now.

Death, randomness and the search for meaning has been part of this show from the beginning. And it continued and increased as the show went on. David Chase layers strong hints about the final scene throughout the earlier episodes that season. Characters repeatedly mention how when someone is killed, they might not even hear the shot. In an earlier episode, Tony Soprano’s own lieutenant Silvio only realizes that a shooting is occurring when he discovers the red fluid that’s splashed on his face is not wine, but someone else’s blood. Then in the episode right before the finale, Tony’s brother-in-law is shot *and then*, while dying, flashes back to talking with Tony about not even hearing the death shot. Finally, before the final scene, Tony’s nemesis Phil Leotardo is blindsided and falls dead without even seeing the gun – in front of what passes for Phil’s family, his mistress and her children in the car.

Several times also in the last episode, Tony Soprano does not notice people coming up behind him in public – building up the idea that he is perhaps distracted and unawares.

Also leading up to the finale, several other long-standing story tensions resolve. Soprano’s therapist finally ends her interaction with Tony. His own son AJ appears to finally have found a good course, and a good girl to travel on it with, and is at some peace. Tony Soprano’s frenemesis uncle, at the end of his own days in a state home, doesn’t even remember Tony – or his *own* life as a mob boss. He isn’t even angry.

The message being that all of these things we think are so important in life, both good and bad, are all dross, to be dropped off on our way to whatever else may happen. So why even bother with the ugliness? If none of it lasts anyway, why not live lightly and with love and beauty? A strong view, but one worth considering and with it’s own merits in a very real sense. A 21st century mafia-gilded Buddhist conversation.

So with all this build up towards a powerful ending, both in plot and theme, why end it so ambiguously? There was an ending right there – built up from the straight, conventional, and brilliant storytelling all the way to this point. It’s not like Chase chickened out because he didn’t *have* an ending, as I thought before seeing the last season. He has a *strong* ending there, that he meticulously built up to. Why end up denying the audience that climax?

The best clue I have been pointed to is from an interview with David Chase, where he said:

“There was so much more to say than could have been conveyed by an image of Tony facedown in a bowl of onion rings with a bullet in his head…The way I see it is that Tony Soprano had been peoples’ alter ego. They had gleefully watched him rob, kill, pillage, lie, and cheat. They had cheered him on. And then, all of a sudden, they wanted to see him punished for all that. They wanted “justice.” They wanted to see his brains splattered on the wall. I thought that was disgusting, frankly. […] The pathetic thing—to me—was how much they wanted his blood, after cheering him on for eight years.”

I think that David Chase was angry at his audience. For many years he gave them a humanized portrait of a sociopath, a man doing awful things to everyone around him, living as king rat among a crew of base parasites with their own deep human issues they compounded through denial. All the while, Tony justified it by being a family man. Many in the audience didn’t take this metaphor as a way to examine the ugliness we all can have in ourselves, that we can let run free by indulging in denial. Instead, they appeared to skip Chase’s intended points to enjoy the vicarious thrills and dreams of being a mob boss. To live the fantasy of being powerful, brutal and unbound by conscience, while able to retain just enough fingernail’s grasp on their conscience to exercise it in ineffective ways. And most of that to obtain an “I’m really a good guy inside” excuse to continue acting like a horrible asshole the rest of the time. The Archie Bunker problem, where people can take a humanized portrait of a person gone wrong and agree with his wrongness rather than go through painful recognition of that wrongness in themselves.

The time-honored way for humans to vicariously enjoy a character doing horrible things and still feel good about themselves and the world, is to ultimately experience and relish the destruction of that character. Internally, they get to binge on those feelings they deny they have, and then purge them so they feel they’ve purged their badness. Externally, they get to feel reassured that the world will by itself bring a justice which even Tony Soprano can’t deny.

And if the ending were to go in the other direction, the audience would see Tony have a relatively smooth ending for all the horrible shit that he put himself, his family, and the innocents around him through, and not get the point either.

So I do think this ending was in a real sense David Chase’s “fuck you” to his audience. “Yes there is an ending to this. And it’s really not that ambiguous. Tony Soprano is probably killed in that diner, in front of his family. But I’m choosing not to make that certain, because so many of you shown you’re not responsible enough to handle that resolution. You deserve to wonder, and not only because that’s how life really is, but because way too many of you enjoyed this show for reasons I don’t like.” And maybe he was even thinking “Hopefully, if I deny you some resolution here then you might not close the book on the ugliness in all of us that I tried to show you with 6 seasons of Tony Soprano and his gang of colorful sociopaths.”

And so, to that point, in a story sense it’s not a good ending. It’s a *deliberately bad* ending.

In which case, because I think I understand where the ending is coming from, I finally do artistically respect it. Because at least, it was not chickening out.

…ref for quote:

[Originally written on August 25th, 2015]

Nightworld (Adversary Cycle, #6)Nightworld by F. Paul Wilson
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is an interesting idea, for the most part pulled off well. F. Paul Wilson brings two different series to a close in this one book- the “Adversary Cycle” and “Repairman Jack”.

There is a lot to like about this book. Spoilers follow.

One of the things I liked most about this book is the way it handles the climax and the aftermath. As an author, Wilson has the straight-up guts to allow the Earth and its inhabitants’ lives to be changed at the end, forever. This is not some simple happy ending. Continents are damaged, cities are ruined, people die and lives are broken. Disaster is not averted – only disasters that would have been *much worse*.

I also find his “Secret History” concepts fun and interesting, and enjoy the other characters from the “Adversary Cycle”.

But probably the main reason I am giving this a 3-star rating instead of a 4, is that I don’t enjoy those other characters and concepts as much as I enjoy Repairman Jack. I’m really reading this book for him. He’s such an absolutely great character – a Jack Reacher everyman before Jack Reacher. A noir fixer for those with no one else to turn to, who gets sucked unwillingly into dealing with impossible forces and retains a pragmatic mindset throughout. F. Paul Wilson wrote such great page-turning thrillers throughout that series, that I was hoping for a heaping chunk of that in this finale. Instead so much is left on the table – a true showdown with the white trash nemesis group the Kickers, their half-magical rackets and the malevolent intent behind their populist front; a teenage oracle with solid black eyes; a man and his brother’s ghost, and many others. I wanted them and Jack front and center, fighting it out face to face or side by side.

Still a fun read. Also to be fair I am not a reader of the “Adversary Cycle” – perhaps that would provide the fourth star. But for me, a much fuller and delicious reading experience is to be found in the other “Repairman Jack” books.

To sum up, this is a good coda to a fine series – I guess I’m just not as interested in the other notes that come from the other symphony.

Available here.

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