A certain village grew temporarily prosperous after eating a great amount of deer meat which they took too quickly from a nearby forest.

As the town grew, fewer deer remained in the forest. The town's dumpsters regularly overflowed, eventually attracting starving bears.

As one of the town's sanitary workers was taking out the trash, a bear mauled him.

Enraged, a mob of townspeople killed the bear. The mob set fire to the woods where they believed the dangerous bear lived. The fire quickly spread throughout the forest, driving even more starving bears into town.

As if waiting for the perfect moment, a bright and shiny circus rolled into the village with marching bands, dancing girls, clowns, balloons, banners, casino games and other distractions.

The ringmaster had painted big red letters on all the circus wagons, which the people read as the circus rolled through the streets:

"All townspeople are good and all bears are bad!"

"Bears are the worst!"

"All bears are terrible!"

"All problems are caused by bears!"

"Something must be done about bears!"

Enthralled by the circus's big performance, the crowd cheered as the ringmaster tossed what appeared to be gold nuggets.

The ringmaster pranced out in front of the crowd with a starving mother bear and her starving, almost dead, cubs he'd easily caught.

To loud applause, the ringmaster cut the throats of the chained cubs and began poking the mother bear behind the cage in the eye with a big sharp stick. The audience cheered even more:

"The tough ringmaster's taking revenge on the terrible bears! Poke the bear's eyes even harder!"

The mob cheered louder and louder. The vain ringmaster kept prancing around in front of the crowd, waving the sharp stick and poking the bear in the eye over and over and over and over and over, laughing and vainly bragging about his own great wisdom and glory as he did so.

"I'm a genius!" the ringmaster said. "Smarter than everyone! Smarter than God!"

The bear's mashed eyes oozed out of their sockets. The blind bear thrashed and thrashed against the cage.

"See! I told you so!" the ringmaster said triumphantly. "See with your own eyes total proof! See how dangerous! See how totally evil bears are! All the evil in all of existence is totally in the terrible bears!"

The ringmaster sharpened his stick.

"Of course, everyone knows it can only ever possibly be just bears and bears alone and no one else in this whole village who are capable of hurting your children!"

About this time, the ringmaster had his people pass around a money basket among the audience who were growing increasingly poor after they'd burned down their nearby forest.

Desperately hungry for more distraction than ever, the townspeople clamored to throw money in the basket. They also bought expensive tickets to next great circus show, which they purchased by taking on massive debt.

"This stick we have is pretty big, but we'll need an even LARGER and LONGER and SHARPER stick to create the perfect world, without bears!" the ringmaster proclaimed.

"We need MORE MONEY and MORE UNQUESTIONING ABSOLUTE LOYALTY AND PERSONAL DEVOTION TO THE CHARISMATIC RINGMASTER who will lead you triumphantly to the next forest by your neighboring village to kill every single one of these terrible bears before those demons come over here! Empty out your pockets! And I promise we'll totally take care of all the bears surrounding the nearby town for you!"

The people handed over what was left of their money, attention, time and energy. The ringmaster then passed around jugs of wine and torches, and started a chant:

"Kill all bears! Kill all bears! Kill all bears!"

The townspeople got drunk on the ringmaster's wine and kept chanting the slogan.

"Follow me to heaven with your torches!"

The ringmaster led the mob out of the big circus tent to the next town where there was another forest that the self-disciplined folks of the neighboring town had preserved.

When the villagers got to the next town, instead of going after bears, the drunken mob began setting their neighbors' homes on fire as they slept, killing not only the adults but also roasting their neighbors' children alive.

"Who cares?" the mob said.

"These neighbors are totally different than us! They saved their forest just to be close to bears, so these neighbors must be totally evil too! They're probably feeding bears! They must be in league with the devilish bears! We'll be perfectly safe if we just kill them all and let God sort them out, since God is obviously on our side!"

During the mayhem, nobody noticed the ringmaster quietly slip away behind the shadows of the flames in the night.

After spending all night burning down their neighbor's town and helping themselves to the deer out of their neighbors' forest, the hungover townspeople eventually stumbled back to their own deforested town at dawn.

As the sun came up over the valley, they returned to find every one of the doors of their homes wide open and every last bit of property removed, including every single self-defense item which the ringmaster had specifically promised to "protect."

All children in the village were gone.

The ringmaster and his great circus were nowhere to be found.

Not wanting to face the horror of who they truly are in the mirror or admit their terrible failure they had traded away their own children to the ringmaster who had not provided them with "safety" or "life," as promised, but had sold them into slavery, the townspeople reasoned:

"Our great ringmaster has just gone off to find the bigger stick he promised would bring us never-ending glory, wealth and perfect safety!

God bless our ringmaster!

And damn those terrible bears possessed by demons, who magically built a powerful machine that knew which key to totally rule our hearts, then opened our locked doorknobs with their paws!"

A homeowner hired a painter to paint a house. The owner supplied the painter everything needed to do a good job.

"I travel to many towns to take care of my business," the owner told the painter. "Can you handle painting the outside and the inside of the house?"

"No problem!" the painter said. "I'll take care of everything!"

When the homeowner returned a month later, he was shocked to see the whole house was painted red! The entire outside and every room and fixture was the same color.

"Why on Earth have you painted every part of my house red?!" the owner asked. "I provided you with several kinds of paint and many brushes!"

The painter grumbled, "Don't question me! I've been doing this for years! Believe me, red is the best! Red will keep everyone perfectly safe from those terrible termites!"

The owner noticed the painter had used only one large flat brush to paint the whole house. With the heavy flat brush, the painter had spilled red all over the floors. The owner also found out that while he was away, the painter had sold the owner's brushes and paints, keeping the money for himself. Even worse, the painter had hidden sugar around the foundation to attract termites.

"'Termites,' huh? 'Red is the best,' huh? What nonsense!" the Owner said. "THIEF! Get off my property!"

The owner then hired an artist he knew for certain wouldn't paint the whole house with one brush. The owner and his whole family lived in the house many years and later sold the house for a good profit.

Teenagers battle constant surveillance in Theodore Webb's “The STARLING Connection.” “Family Hour,” depicts cubicle imprisonment. A returning vet takes action in “Desperate Engine.” “Is Freedom on the Menu?” was published in “Diner Stories” by Mountain State Press. Webb's zombie comedy-mystery "Zombie Texts from the Future" was performed Oct. 29-Nov. 1, 2014 at Monongalia Arts Center, Morgantown, West Virginia. Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/theodorewebbauthor; Twitter @theodoretedwebb

A Stranger we never saw set foot once in our state strides confidently into our restaurant.

"I love you guys!" the Stranger says, flashing a thick wad of cash.

"I love you so much I've got a penthouse full of gold waiting just for you! I can take you there!" 

"That sounds great!" we say. "Take us there!" 

"I'll take you there," he says. "But..."

"But what?!" 

"The penthouse full of gold has a lock that takes a very special key. It's the only key that can possibly open the door for you."

"Who has the key? We want it!"

"Your neighbor whose family doesn't go back 100 years and who is terrible has the key! I saw him picking fruit for your restaurant. But then I saw him swallow your key!"

The eyes of the Stranger shift in tune with our eyes to the knife sitting on the restaurant counter. 

"I've got a great idea!" the Stranger flashing all the cash says. 

"Why don't you take that knife laying out there on the counter, and go cut your key out of your neighbor's stomach? Everything bad that ever happened is all his fault you know. For swallowing the key." 

"What a great idea!" we say, thinking about the gold in the penthouse. "But you know that sounds like kind of messy work, and we have to manage our restaurant. Our workers have been mysteriously disappearing, so looks we'll have to cut up the fruit ourselves to sell it. Can you hire someone else to kill our neighbor, cough, we mean "get" the key for us?" 

"Sure I can!" says the Stranger with a big smile. "I know a hitman! He doesn't work cheap, but if you hand over all your restaurant wages to me, then I can convince him to do it. I make great deals all the time!" 

"That sounds great!" we say happily handing this Stranger we never met before in our lives all our money. "Let us know when our neighbor's dead, and we can pick up our key!" 

"Sure thing!" he says, giving us a clever wink. "It's for the best, you know. Hacking your neighbor to death is the only possible way you can ever possibly get your hands on that special key. And when it's all over, and you're in your penthouse with all your gold, you'll certainly be great!"

I do NOT consent.

I'd like all my friends to know, in case I haven't already made it abundantly clear, I did NOT vote for this arrogant foolish spoiled rotten regime that foolishly believes there are no limits.

I do NOT consent to a regime that enables the government to register people by religion, double down on total surveillance of the citizenry or torture. Such a regime spits on every Amendment in the Bill of Rights and is no friend of the 2nd Amendment or any church.

We all know there are economic and social problems in our country, but that doesn't give any man or any group a license to engage in greater crimes.

Friends, government registration of people by religion, torture and total surveillance are crimes against humanity.

There is no possible way America can be great if we allow such massive crime in the name of "security" or "prosperity."
American citizens have a sacred duty to refuse to write a blank check to the state.

American soldiers have a sacred duty and a sacred oath to the Constitution to refuse unlawful orders.

​I have put my life on the line for our country.

Who is the true savior? 

Is it the One that says, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven"?

Or is it the person who presents on TV as a national political "messiah" who says: "I'd approve it (waterboarding) immediately. And I'd make it much worse."?

Who says: "And don't tell me it doesn't work. Torture works."?

Would the true savior say "Torture works"? 

Where is the life in that?

Which is the true savior?

Our family's house is on fire... 

Would we trust a "knight in golden armor" who, from his tower in the Golden City, watched our house burn for a long time, then suddenly appears when our house is 1/2 burnt, carrying a strange-looking red can? 

"Is that gasoline?" we ask.

"Gasoline?" he laughs. "No! It's strong stuff!" he says. "Great stuff!"

"How much does it cost?"  

"Don't worry!" the "knight" says, "It's magic! Someone else will pay for it! You alone will gain the whole world!" 

Eyeing our desperation, the "knight" throws the "magic liquid" on our house. But the gasoline causes our house to rapidly burn to the the ground. 

"We thought you said it was 'magic stuff'?!" we cry, realizing with horror it's too late to stop the "knight's" self-fulfilling prophecies.

Soon after, we're handed the costly bill for "putting out the fire." Unable to pay a bill that no one can pay, the "knight" labels us "criminal" and put us in prison for the "crime" of homelessness.

On the telescreens, we see the masses falling into line, saluting the "knight in golden armor," as he worships his "strong," "godlike" surveillance of everyone from the rooftop of the casino he built on "his" valuable real estate, where our home once stood.

Through our prison bars, we see the "knight" building more prisons, telling the masses his countless prisons is "law and order." 

We hear the screams of those who lose everything in the "knight's" great casino, as they're rounded up, beaten and killed by the casino's burgeoning "security" guards.

Should one put 100% of one's faith into the grand "promises" of a "knight in golden armor" and his "magic liquid"? 

Or is it better to make absolutely certain we have enough firefighters, who will stand firm against the inferno, to put out the fire with fire extinguisher, not "magic liquid"?

Is it also better to have enough electricians who fully understand the faulty wiring that led to the fire?

Is it better to fully support those with stars of gold in their spirits, who have proven themselves by true sacrifice, who have put their lives on the line on behalf of not only our own home, but our whole neighborhood where we all must live? 

To never, ever, ever surrender the dream of home, for all... 

 Nero: Romans love Nero! Nero's public performances at the Coliseum are music to their ears!

Cincinnatus: Your "music" is the tune played by the Pied Piper. We won't get fooled again.

Nero: My Romans have no responsibilities or duties in my glorious State! My Romans will build our beautiful wall, not only in Britannia but everywhere in Rome, which will ensure that Rome will always be 100% secure. Rome will live forever! All security comes from total faith in my great personality, my great wall, and my great State. That is the only way! And the barbarians are going to pay for fortress Rome.
 
Cincinnatus: Others will not willingly pay for your countless walls Nero. Rome must go to war yet again if you intend to force other peoples in other nations to pay for everything under the sun you desire. Will the children of Nero fight in this new war with Parthia and countless other nations? How many will die in Nero's wars? Will the children of Nero ever fight beside the children of the countless working poor Romans? Even those Romans who sing your praises KNOW your children refuse to fight beside their countrymen on the battlefields where true sacrifice is made.
 
Nero: I've made many sacrifices! The crowds believe when they see those who deny me eaten by the lions, when they hear me speak on the glowing stage of the Coliseum!
 
Cincinnatus: Yet when you speak to the crowds, you do not tell the WHOLE truth. You do not mention Rome's wealthiest patrons will certainly not pay for your expensive wall. Not even Nero has the power to control where the world's money goes. And those who have attempted to gain so much power attempted to do so by slaughtering millions of their fellow human beings. Is what you propose truly "freedom and security"? The true costs of too much power are too high, costs which cannot be paid by men. These powers are therefore reserved only for the gods. Nero, your "big ideas" have been tried a thousand times by Caesar, by Caligula and by countless others, in a thousand failed dictatorships.
 
Nero: Humor me then Cincinnatus. What's good and fair? Who do you claim will pay, as they should, if not the barbarians?
 
Cincinnatus: Nero, you know well the ways of Earthly business: For years you have been in the public eye. You have made many attempts to become Emperor, and anyone can see you have spent most of your life much like the other wealthiest patrons of Rome. As much as anyone, you gained your riches by Roman "laws" which favored you, by playing both sides, and through others' labors in the wide-ranging slave system you now suddenly claim to take notice of.

Nero: I never said I was perfect! The people trust me because I speak my mind!

Cincinnatus: Whatever I say is backed up by my life and blood. But every word you say has nothing whatsoever to back it up in the real world. You merely say anything the people want to hear, to take advantage of their anger and frustrations, to get you what you want.  

Nero: Nonsense! Everyone else has failed these people! They know it's time to shake things up.

Cincinnatus: How many times in your career did you face life and death, not for yourself, but for all of the people, not for the State, but for their non-negotiable rights and freedoms? You didn't need to think everything through carefully because you did not make the kinds of sacrifices which compel one to consider all aspects. And you FALSELY claim that the people's rights and freedoms are negotiable.

Nero: You're an idiot.

Cincinnatus: Like all the other Patrons of Rome, you follow the footsteps of Caligula. You and those under your patronage remain far away from the battlefields. EXACTLY like those you condemn, for more than three decades, you enlarged your estates buying up the lands of those who were away fighting, even as you bought your own special favors through patronage. Like the other Patrons, your friends are not the downtrodden Romans whom you claim to care so much about. Rather, your friends are a few Romans at the top in the richest city where you made your career, and there is no doubt the master they work for is also your master. What true security for ALL can possibly come from building expensive walls, feeding more people to the lions and building more prisons? Your interests are not the interests of the people. You refuse to address the actual ROOT causes of Rome's problems, which no wall can ever solve. Like the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, you disguise the truth by claiming to tell the truth.

Nero: Everyone else is corrupt! I'm the only one who is honest! 

Cincinnatus: Are you trustworthy when your State registers human beings before feeding them to the lions? Are you trustworthy when you spit on the graves of those who sacrificed everything by publicly quoting the dictator Caesar with no shame? Are you trustworthy when your State, a State more powerful than Caligula's, tortures, when soldiers who are put in more danger by your love of torture and crimes, swear personal allegiance to you rather than the Republic, turning their backs on their sacred responsibilities and duties, on humanity itself, and the gods? I fought for the Republic, and I do not trust you one bit Nero. I have no faith in you, your followers, your "glorious walls," or your State. Like Pharaoh and his pyramids, Nero has no intention whatsoever of paying for his "beautiful" wall himself, but Nero will have Roman slaves pay all the true costs, increasing their taxes and burdens. Your "glorious" wall won't provide one bit of real security, economic or otherwise, to the Roman people, but serves to glorify Nero's name, to further Nero's foolish, never-ending pursuit of ever more riches and ever more power.

Guard: Hail the Emperor!
 
Nero: Why do you not kneel to me, Cincinnatus? Is it not I, Nero, who sacrifices and makes Rome great? I and I alone have made Rome great again! Greater than ever!
 
Cincinnatus: It is not duty and honor, or the people, whom you want to be great. But rather it is Nero’s State which has replaced Caligula’s State.
 
Nero: What are you saying?
 
Cincinnatus: You made many large and grand promises to understandably angry crowds who lost too much as a result of following Caligula, who claimed: "Always low prices, never true costs." Yet, was it not Caligula’s system which enlarged your riches, Nero, before you were crowned Emperor?
 
Nero: Caligula was my father's friend, not mine!
 
Cincinnatus: Yet, like your father, you served Caligula's system. Like those who follow you today, you remained silent for more than three decades in favor of Caligula's system as it grew larger and larger, spreading itself across the Mediterranean, making slaves of those in Roman provinces sweating in the shops and fields.

Nero: You lie!

Cincinnatus: Nero, you profited in money and fame far more than most Romans, by the very system you now condemn. That is why, no matter what you say to the crowds, it is in the State that you place all of your faith. It is your personal glory, embodied in Caligula’s State, which now has become Nero’s State.

Nero: I have made many sacrifices!

Cincinnatus: It is personal glory that you love, not personal sacrifice. You do not truly love the Republic, or the rights of humanity.

Freedom cannot exist without responsibility.

Jay Gummer of Morgantown Public Library (MPL) shared this video of me performing my hilarious cat poem:"Queen Lubu: The Chief Executive Cat" at the library (Spruce Street, Morgantown, West Virginia.)

(For the full run-down on MPL's January literary performance event, go here. Many talented folks were involved with this event. Here's a huge shout out to Jay & Bonnie Mullins Dwire of the library for all their great work organizing. Much love & appreciation Jay & Bonnie!)

For those wondering, YES, "Queen Lubu" is BASED ON a real cat I'm friends with & love very much. The real cat is not nearly as demanding as the fictional cat in the poem. I took my poetic license full throttle here. Therefore, many of the qualities of the fictional cat are exaggerated for comic effect.

For example, the real cat does not actually say: "Fetch my food, meow, meow, NOW!"

The real cat does not ACTUALLY speak English. If she does, she's not telling me, anyhow.

"Queen Lubu" was written a few years back. I thank my good friend Emily Jewson for listening to the early versions.

I'd originally wanted to write a series of cat poems about cats I knew, some in my trailer park, some that were friends of my friends, cats we ended up feeding while our friends were gone, etc. I even bought a cat mythology book to study cats (& their human counterparts) throughout history (partly as curiosity & partly in an effort to aid my poetic efforts). I ended up writing about three or four cat poems. Among these other poems is one about a couple of male cats who live together and share bowls. Then I have another one involving Bastet (which the Morgantown Poets have heard). This heroic cat clawing the eye of the pyramid could have shown up in my novel, "The STARLING Connection."

"Queen Lubu" is the funniest of my cat poems. The Morgantown Poets have gotten a kick out of it at Monongalia Arts Center & folks also seemed to enjoy it in Preston County. I performed "Queen Lubu" in Kingwood in December at the Christmas Tea & Treats event (thanks Georgeann Swiger & Patricia Patteson). Someone snatched up a copy of "Queen Lubu" soon after the performance, so I was glad to let that particular cat poem get adopted to a good home. Patricia had some great suggestions about what to do with this poem. Thanks Patricia & glad you enjoyed this fun poetry.

I'm fortunate to know several folks involved in the dynamic comedy community here in North-Central West Virginia. These are the folks who do stand-up comedy, which I have mad respect for, because I think it's tough to be a one-person show. On top of that, you have to make people laugh. You'd think making people laugh is easy, but sometimes it's not. Believe it or not, there are people out there with no sense of humor (n.s.o.h.)

When I was a kid it was easier to laugh. Then things happened which apparently dulled my sense of humor. It was still there, but was being unused, like it was packed into the attic, you know the attic with a hole in the roof so that the sense of humor gets encased in a big block of ice. There were a few years I was sliding around in the icy attic with those folks with n.s.o.h. Fortunately, I was rescued by a talented group of folks I've been lucky to see warming everyone's hearts with great comedy (& other work), Tawnya Drake, Kasey Kesner, Seret Cole, Mara Monaghan, Christian Cox, Lauren Swann, The Fearless Fools & many others (including the comedians who've performed at 4th N Goal on Walnut Street).

Huge thanks to comedian Steve Goff for the excellent comedy writing workshop he did awhile back at Bridgeport Public Library. Steve always inspires me to do better by getting more humor into my work. Thanks Steve!

OK I've written enough here for a Sunday & I'm sure you have better things to do. Like listen to cat poems on the Internet. As if the Internet needs more cat humor.