Jack The Giant Killer Chapter 1

   Jack Maxwell sat on the deck overlooking the Arizona desert sipping on a bottle of whiskey and smoking a joint intermittently in between.  His portable radio by his side was tuned to FM radio titan KJAX  repeating  song after song of his Sixties favorites. "Walk right in, sit right down, Daddy let your mind roll on" it rang out as he surveyed the scene in front of him and its echo filled the air while he mumbled the lyrics.  He pondered many things in the morning. It was a routine that he enjoyed in his solitude residing in Mesquite in the desert early mornings when temperatures were mild and pleasant, watching the dawn of a new day as the sun peeked out on the horizon. Jack had few visitors at his modest estate he wistfully named the Ranchita. In actuality most of his visitors were residents as well...scorpions and rattlesnakes and a host of other dangers out in the vast expanse of the desert field. Jack often marveled at the diversity of life surrounding him in his self imposed isolation. Surrounded by deadly hunters and predators of different sizes and shapes. For instance , despite its size the scorpion can easily defeat a rattlesnake on the arrid battlefield with its venom that liquifies the insides of its prey. Even the smallest creatures had survival strategies. Size wasn't always an advantage. Jack had learned that, living in the desert.

    Far off in the distance, on the edge of the horizon Jack noticed the movement of three small dots approaching from the North below the mosaic backdrop of red and grey foothills. 
He estimated that at their present rate his visitors on horseback would arrive at midday. Meanwhile he made preparations to greet his unexpected quests and offer them hospitality.       "Must be tourists horseback riding lost way out here. If nothing else they'll need water," he thought. "Must have taken a wrong turn in Vegas," he joked to himself.

  Jack got up from his comfortable seat positioned on the apex of his deck and began the task of collecting water for the horses. "I hope they're not expecting a three course meal. This ain't no bed and breakfast," he thought.

   Just as he predicted,  two men on horseback with a third mount in tow, who could have passed as young Hispanics but who were in fact Indian scouts, arrived at his doorstep at noonday. Remaining on their horses they waited for Jack to approach them. When Jack seemed satisfied that they were harmless he stepped out on to his porch taking off his wide brim hat in the process and laying it aside. " You fellas seem a little lost to me. Is there something I can do for you?,"he asked. " Where you're standing is private property. The main road is somewhere in that direction," he said pointing vaguely in the air.

" We seek the man Enkoodabaoo.  We have traveled three cycles from our village to ask for his help. His name is Jack, the Enkoodabaoo. I am called Chitto and this is my brother Maska. We seek audience with the one named  Jack... the man who lives alone...Jack Dangerfield. Only he can help us.

Jack expressed confusion at their declaration.

  "Jack?...that would be me alright but you've got some of it wrong. I'm afraid you've been misinformed. I am Jack,  some call me Cadillac Jack, but Jack Dangerfield... well, he’s somebody else altogether. You see Jack Dangerfield is a character I created. He's not real.”

  The scouts looked at one another with consternation and then Maska replied.

  "We don't understand. You are Jack, the one who lives alone and traverses the sky and time itself. Jack Dangerfield travels the stars and confers with the great wind spirit. He counsels with the sky people and angels. In our dreams we are told that only he can help us.  We have come to plead with you to save us from the Maccapitew.”

Jack’s confusion continued.

"Wait, hold on...the Macca whatchoo? Is that some kind of wild animal around these parts that I'm not aware of yet? That sounds like an animal control issue and their office is in town”

   Chitto seemed impatient with Jack’s response and his eyes expressed frustration. “Maccapitew is our Indian word for “monster .”

 “ Wait, monster you say?” Jack questioned. “You've got more explaining to do ,Cheetos."

"That's Chitto sir, not Cheetos."

"Yeah sorry about that. I don't hear so good these days. Look, why don't you and Maska here hop down and come inside. You must be tired from the ride and all."

Chitto and Maska dismounted their horses and both wiped the sweat from their brows.

   Jack sensed that he needed to be more hospitable.  "Maska, tie them off and give them water.  You’ve got some fine looking horses there. They look like they have a lot of spirit.”

  Chitto smiled , “yes Cisco and Poncho have been raised from colts and the other called Banjo , he is also a fine steed. All three have served us well. My brother Maska was responsible for training them and caring for them since they were young. Maska is also known as Felipe since he is a lover of horses. I too am known as Miguel. It is my non-Indian name. I hope that doesn’t confuse you Jack.”

“No , I get it.” Jack answered,” It’s Indian stuff. No need to explain. How long have you two been riding to get here? Your mounts must be exhausted. And why three horses? Did you bring a spare?”

“A spare? Why no Jack, you see Banjo... Banjo is for you.” Chitto said.

 Jack thought a moment as he eyed the horse Banjo up and down. “Oh fellas, I’ve got to tell you the last horse I ever rode was painted and going round and round on a carousel in New Orleans. I’m not sure I’m up for a three day ride on horseback if that’s what you have in mind. No offense I hope. Nothing against Banjo personally. I’m sure any Indian scout or brave would be proud to ride him.”  Jack reached over and stroked Banjo and examined the beautiful blanket and saddle on his back as if perhaps silently reconsidering the proposition but then suddenly snapping back to reality.

"No ... no...As I was saying I'm sorry you've got it all wrong. My name is Jack, but Jack Dangerfield is fictional...he's made up. You see, I’m a writer and all that stuff about space and time... it’s just fiction. Even after his explanation he saw that they did not understand.  “But I'm curious, why did you come all this way to ask for help? How did you hear about me?""

  Chitto stood silent for a moment and then turned to face Jack. “It is you Jack who does not understand. Our story is brief but we come to you because our tribe, The Paiutes, is in danger and soon many more people could die. You must think we are crazy but I tell you, our dreams do not lie.

You are the one Enkoodabaoo and you have been chosen by the Great Spirit to free us from the giant.”

“Wait a minute. Did you just say “giant?”

Like in The Beanstalk.” Chitto and Maska both looked at one another puzzled by Jack’s words. “I hate to tell you but giants aren’t any more real than Jack Dangerfield and even if they were , one thing you need to understand , this Jack, the one you’re looking at now?... doesn’t do giants. Just for the sake of argument, how big is this  so-called giant anyway? Maybe this thing is just really tall and would benefit from wearing loafers or something. Did you ever think of that , fellas?”

  Chitto answered impatiently, “This thing is a warrior from a long lost tribe  called the Si-Te-Cah. They were a tribe of red haired giants from centuries ago. But what you also don’t know is that, from those times, the giants took women from our tribe who then gave birth to strange offspring who themselves became giants.”

“That’s a great story, Tonto, but if that was centuries ago what does that have to do with us?”

 “My name is Chitto, Sir.”

“Whatever....what is your point?” Jack pleaded.

“Maska, hand me the bag.” Chitto demanded. His brother reached inside his saddlebag and produced a pouch containing what appeared to be an Indian relic. Chitto held it up and revealed its shine and sparkle to the puzzled Jack. Chitto continued,“This amulet is sacred to  our people. The stone is priceless, but this is only part of the story.”

  Chitto took a deep breath and continued as Maska listened intently to the story he already knew. Jack sat quietly rubbing the whiskers on his face as he considered the facts being revealed to him.

  “My family was cursed by the Si-Te-Cah bloodline. This giant is the last remnant of that curse. He is our brother. Years ago our mother brought him to a cave in the wilderness when he was just a newborn baby. She knew the curse had returned.  You see , it had two sets of teeth like the giants from before. Our mother could not bring herself to kill it so she abandoned it deep inside the cave to die on its own. She regrets profoundly what she has done, but it does not change the need to destroy it.“ 

  “Hmm, not exactly mother of the year.” Jack said somberly. “ So what you’re saying is this...this giant guy is actually your long lost estranged brother through some kind of freak of nature...”

 “A curse.” Maska said impatiently. “We tried to end it but it survived in the wild and now that years have passed, it has grown larger and more dangerous. Now it has ventured out from the cave and eats our crops and livestock. It will not stop with that though.

The Si-Te-Cah were cannibals and our brother, this giant, is too.”

  Jack rose up from his seat and paced the room while rubbing his scruffy cheeks in a discerning manner as if plotting a plan of action. “Frito...Mitchell...?”

“That’s Chitto and Maska, sir.... and I should say that our names are not that difficult to remember.”

  “Right, right, sorry about that. It’s late and it’s been a long day for sure.” Jack said.

  “Surely no longer than ours Jack. We’ve been riding close to three days.”

  “Good point , Chachi, lets get some grub.” Jack proposed.

  The day turned into evening and the three enjoyed a tasty meal of turtle soup and cabbage while sitting around an open fire before turning in.

   “Miguel, Felipe... I’ve just got to ask. You know, we live in peculiar times, strange days indeed, wouldn’t you say? Please don’t take this the wrong way but let’s say I accept the premise of your story. Why would you need me at all? I couldn’t help but notice. You’re not carrying any weapons! Why not? Why don’t you brave Indians ride out to this giant’s place and shoot him. Bam, end of story, man! Can you guys explain that to me?”

   “How can you not understand? You are the Enkoodabaoo. “ Chitto continued. “My tribe has lived many years in the desert and our ancestors hundreds of years before and  one thing we know is that the desert holds many mysteries. It is a magical place. Is this not why you are here? The Paiutes are a peaceful people and we seek to understand the ways of the Great Spirit that commands the earth and sky. In the desert the spirit calls to many to fulfill their greater purpose. Some would call it their destiny. We, my brother and I have been told in our dreams that you and you alone can defeat the monster that threatens us. You, Jack Dangerfield have been chosen by the Great Spirit. Surely you have sensed it in your own dreams and have expected it to come to pass.”
   Jack rose up from his chair and scratched his head. “I honestly can’t say that I have but for the reasons I have tried to explain to you already. You guys are freaking me out. You realize that this is a pretty tall tale. You’ve gotta give me a minute to think this thing through.”         Jack walked over to the window and looked out into the ever increasing darkness of the desert dusk and pondered the situation now put before him. Chitto and Maska observed him while he stood there silent. Doubt and discernment played back and forth in his head as Jack sought to decide what to do, and finally it came to him.

   “You know boys, you need a 50lb nutsack for this kind of mission.” Jack said sternly.

   “Yes, Jack. Both Maska and I realize it takes great courage and strength to win such a battle.” Chitto replied.

   “That’s not what I mean though, yes ...bravery and strength but mostly ingenuity. I buy 50lbs of walnuts on some occasions and they come in these burlap sacks. I’ve got a dozen of them in my shed. I have an idea how to use them." Jack continued. "We'll need provisions. You two can bed down here tonight and we'll leave at first light tomorrow.  Now, about the horses... I’m not too keen on riding for three days so here’s plan B. We take my Caddy with my trailer hitch for the horses and we make a side trip into town before heading out into the desert. There’s some things we need from Home Depot and Guns R Us  maybe even the zoo downtown, but we'll figure that out later. Sleep tight compadres, I hope you brought your big boy panties for tomorrow we ride." 
   Chitto and Maska glanced at one another and smiled.

In Search Of The Magic Christian

   My close personal friend has extended an olive branch to me as it concerns my views on the socio-political climate we all find ourselves in at the moment and so I offer this short treatise in response to him and to anyone else who will consider an opposing statement without shooting me down with ALL CAPS blazing.
   First of all , I love living in America although I hear that Venus is nice this time of year...tanning weather for sure. There are certainly some picturesque places that I dream about experiencing but the blueprint for The American Way of Life is by far the best. Freedom, opportunity and limitless avenues for finding love and happiness. It is my home. One of the reasons that this country is so great is because the people in it have the freedom to consider possibilities for improving aspects of living that are troublesome to us all. I've said it before, dreamers have been our salvation. Technological leaps have saved us from extinction through dealing with the wants and needs of humanity. I am thankful for air conditioning, heaters, refrigerators, cars, phones, television, radio, computers and a whole litany of other cool stuff that makes life tolerable and enjoyable. That's a global phenomenon and not limited to the citizens of the U.S however. What sets our country apart from most other countries is our form of government that provides liberty and justice for all  with a constitution and a set of laws that allows freedom within those laws. Liberty and Justice are broad concepts though and whether we want to admit it or not, they both come at a premium. More to the point, Money is freedom and money buys justice. I think everyone will agree with me so far. The controversial point though is why doesn't capitalism provide equal access to freedom and the answer is simple. Capitalism is based on the idea of a stratified population of citizens. In other words , the haves and the have nots.  The American/ Puritan work ethic in a nut shell is this: Work hard, be rewarded monetarily for your hard work and finally be free.  Unfortunately, every good idea that comes from well meaning people gets corrupted by other equally opportunistic people who spoil it for everybody else.

   Let's talk about Capitalism and Socialism for a moment as separate means to an end.
America is broke. It's been broke for decades. The United States Government is so far into debt it can't conceivably ever pay it down. Look it up. That's what I did. It's so humongous that the Federal Government struggles just to pay the interest annually.  Here's the part where I tell you that the hopelessly broke Government was created by design. Corporations have thrived with the assistance of public monies and politicians ingratiated by those corporations have willingly enriched themselves through corporate and political connections.  The Conservative and Liberal Rich both share the blame for the current state of affairs. Politicians have put the money and the power in the pockets of the Wealthy Elite and they in turn put a little something in the pot for the politicians.  Are there any truly sinless politicians in government? I don't know.  How could I? The Government is broke and a very small percentage of the U.S. Population owns 95% of the country's wealth. Again, look it up. Research it on your own. Be honest with yourself.
    Here's the Truth Bomb. Capitalism did this. Socialism had absolutely nothing to do with it. This ridiculously skewed distribution of wealth was created by a competitive system based on a perceived reward for hard work but only a fortunate few reap that reward. In part I blame the Stock Market and the slick idea of investing instead of working. I recently read an article on money laundering and found out a couple of things. The top legitimate businesses for laundering money are storage units, strip clubs, car washes, casinos and mattress stores. Who knew? Anyway , on a larger scale the top two methods for moving and hiding money among the ultra elite are real estate transactions and the stock market. Mouse clicks...the new Puritan Work Ethic. No sweat equity at all , save the possibility of a Justice Department investigation. Never forget this...Knowledge is Power, but really cool power comes from lots of money. Politicians know it. Corporations know it.
    Poverty has no power and lacks freedom. We may argue that some poverty is deserved and some is not. The same can be said about wealth. FU money is freedom in this world. It provides comfort, privilege and power. Who doesn't want that? But "working smart instead of working hard " is not an option for most. That's screwed up too, because worker production in the work force has been steadily increasing for decades but wages have not. Where is all that new money going? Where is the reward for that increase? Many employers have the nerve to answer that question by simply responding this way, "they get to keep their jobs."

   Now, what can Socialism offer to spread some of that wealth (aka freedom) to the masses? By the masses I mean me and you and everybody we know. Social programs proposed by the Socialist Democrats talk about free higher education, free healthcare and a higher but modest minimum living wage. The argument against such proposals is that they would bankrupt the country ,but as we know, that has already been done by Capitalism. Obscene Debt that can never be paid. I can only assume that the debt will never be called in and therefore can be ignored. The  debt ceiling is not so much a ceiling as it is a sunroof these days suggesting that the sky and the heavens are the new cap on spending. So even if Social programs designed to lift up the majority of our citizenry creates more debt, who cares?  The debt ceiling has obviously disappeared for good. They just keep kicking that can down the road. The "Socialist leaning" proposals that we hear everyone screaming about are not unreasonable, but Socialism is a scary loaded  word with many implications.
I suspect that the only ones who care are the privileged elite who see their power in jeopardy. Corporations and the very wealthy might actually be expected to cease hiding money and begin to pay taxes and share some of that sweet power with us. I recently watched a video that claimed that the  eight richest individuals on the planet would qualify as the eighth largest economy on the globe.
Wealth distribution... a global problem but certainly an American problem that deserves some problem solving.
    Socialism and Communism are both demonized by those who are comfortable just being comfortable. They have basic comforts and probably a mortgage and they are satisfied with that.
What most people fear about change is the possibility of winding up with less than what they started with, a reasonable fear because as we all know the Universe gravitates to chaos.
The Family of Man is a dysfunctional one for sure.  So many people to hate and so little time.  Charles Shultz once said " I love mankind, it's people I can't stand."  I agree , but I was raised to believe that all men are children of God and we all eventually share the same fate.  So according to religious circles we should care about one another. What has puzzled me most about the fear of Socialism among Christian groups is why they would reject a system that for all purposes portends to establish a kind of Heaven on earth that their God says He wants for all His children. I'm not sure how I personally feel about that myself. Sounds complicated.  But instead of embracing a system that would emulate a heavenly alternative the Christian Evangelicals reject it outright in favor of an exclusionary political ideology that encourages inequality and injustice.  I personally would love to see how Jesus plans to establish a heavenly kingdom on earth using Capitalism as his template. Evangelical Christians are officially a voting bloc courted to get votes. That's sad really because Christians have traditionally been easy prey for con men throughout their history. Many false messiahs came before Jesus and more recently mega church evangelists buy mansions and jets with parishioners tithes( the prosperity gospel at work.) Political dogma preaches that politics and war are the same and utilize the same method for victory... deception.
    Religion and Politics are a bad mix. That's why I am so perplexed by the Evangelical Right's fascination and support for Donald Trump. Make no mistake, I am not suggesting that politicians have to be or should be devout Christians, but Christians collectively have no business supporting someone like Donald Trump. Do your homework and run the numbers. I must confess I took offense at the numerous comparisons of Trump to biblical figures like Saul/Paul , Daniel and even Jesus himself. Internet memes circulated on Facebook by many people who I call friends. Really? Have you lost your mind? Donald Trump is the worst kind of con man, a self centered narcissist with a gangster swagger borrowed from a 1930s mobster movie and you fail to see through the facade.  I can only assume my friends and others are victims of a vast political conspiracy spread by subliminal mass hypnosis through digital media. Spoiler alert! There are two trigger phrases "Perfect Phone Call"and "Stable Genius".
  Socialist, Communist, Progressive, Liberal, Capitalist, Fascist. Easy labels for complex issues and very easy to throw around when an individual or a group want to discredit another. Peter Canellos of Politico.com writes about FDR and his disdain for the Socialist label his critics tried to hang on him. His New Deal policies were a solution separate from any single ideology as far as FDR was concerned and he shunned the label. Canellos suggests today that Democrats should do the same.
Give their platform legitimacy by emphasizing the problem and providing specific solutions without accepting the label. No one today can argue that where others failed, FDR succeeded.
Politics is forever a game with a gang mentality. Nobody snitches, nobody admits to the crime because their collective  survival is at stake. And we the voting public are drawn into their rumble pitting us against each other.
   So why is  the new generation embracing  ideas that have been previously rejected as a threat to our way of life? I think it's partially because they see the traditional work ethic as phony. The Rich have inherited the earth and the Meek have paid the bill. This is what we have handed down to our children. Maybe we owe it to them to give some scary ideas a new look and consider the possibilities without accepting a wholesale label. Maybe we need to let them find their own FDR.