World War III is coming . . . LET’S DANCE!

We are sleepwalking into the greatest catastrophe in human history.

More accurately, we may be sleepwalking into the end of human history. The end of everything. Period!

Leaders in the US, NATO and the EU have openly stated they intend the Ukraine conflict to go on for a very long time. And remember, this is not about Ukraine. Zelensky is a joke, which makes sense, because he used to be a comedian. He’s perfectly qualified to be a joke. But these days he’s not funny. At all!

Russia does not want war. Russia does not want any of the animosity coming from the West. I can give hundreds of examples of Russia trying to cooperate with us. Now they’re simply fed up. They’re not going to tolerate the lies and broken promises anymore.

US and its NATO allies want to destroy Russia. That’s it in a nutshell. They have all along. Russia did not start this war. US and NATO gave Russia no alternative but to invade.

And the lunatics who are pushing for this will risk everything. They are even talking about nuclear war becoming more inevitable.

Are you getting this? Do you see where we’re headed?

We have one option: Removing these crazies from power. Appealing to them is ridiculous. They’re not listening. They don’t care what we sane and sensible people think. Period! They only know war and conquest. Now it’s destroy Russia and steal everything. Next it’s destroy China and steal everything. If we don’t all die in a nuclear holocaust, we will be in the middle of permanent war and slaughter for the next 20 years.

If there are any serious plans for stopping these maniacs, I’m not aware of them. The Peace Dividend strategy is a long shot. But as far as I can see, it’s all we have. You’ve heard the pleas emanating from the current peace movement . . . “Oh pretty please! Stop the wars. No more bombing Yemen. Bring the troops home. Let’s all be nice to one another!”

You want to see how well this will work? Try telling an anteater to stop eating ants. Next time there’s a thunderstorm, stand on your porch and yell at the clouds. 

So what’s with the title? Well, I have been known to venture into sarcasm . . . at least a few times.

Truth is, I’m completely overwhelmed, underwhelmed, shocked, numb, and baffled. Thus, if everyone now being subjected to the 24/7 barrage of war propaganda, runaway inflation, food shortages, elementary school shootings, a crumbling economy, a totally inept and corrupt governing class, Covid-19 fear porn, monkeypox fear porn, now even casual talk about throwing nukes into the equation . . . yes, if everyone one night just went out into the streets, all 330 million of us, and started dancing, honestly? . . . IT WOULD COME AS NO SURPRISE!

Because THAT’S how nuts everything is these days!

But you know what? Quite honestly, it would be phenomenal to see such a show of unity — as surreal a show as it might be. Because for a few happy moments at least, or however long our little street party lasted, we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats, we’d stop the yelling and blaming and hating, and instead be showing off our best dance moves, shaking our booties, and just having a darn good time. I think it’s a great idea!

Which is my way of saying that more than ever before, we need to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back, belly-to-belly, embrace and celebrate what we have in common, and put aside all differences that ultimately aren’t that important. We need to feel human again. We need to fully appreciate one another and understand that unified we are strong, divided we are weak and just pawns in someone else’s game, and that someone else sees us as “expendables”, just cannon fodder in wars to protect their wealth and power. We need to see who the real enemies are. Don’t be fooled by the lies. It’s not you and I that are the problem. We don’t start wars, we don’t crash the economy, we don’t loot the Treasury, we don’t jack up the contagiousness of viruses and inflict them on the rest of humankind, we don’t deprive one another of our share of the vast wealth of this country.

So getting together, whether it’s to dance, or to protest the abuses and humiliations we all endure just trying to survive, or to show up en masse at the polls and vote the pay-for-play lapdogs of the rich and powerful out of office, or to just talk to one another and try to sort out the mess our country is in — yes, getting together — is exactly what we must be doing!

It’s not just a pretty thought. Frankly it’s a matter of survival!

These wars will never end until we the people end them. Or the wars end us.

Yes, it’s that bad. And getting worse by the day.

You think I’m exaggerating? When is the last time you heard any of these blabbermouths on TV, in the media, or in government talk about … wait for it … (drumroll) … PEACE?

I rest my case.

Not long ago I came across a video that turns me into a crying old fool every time I watch it. And I won’t tell you how many times that is. It’s embarrassing and I’m surprised I’m not a dehydrated pile of talcum powder. Check it out!

First off, some things are SO BEAUTIFUL, only tears can express the total profound joy I’m feeling. Such a magnificent song, with such a powerful message! Seeing every size and shape musician, from across the globe, every color and religion and culture, come together just to make great music, to make Cat Stevens’ work of genius come alive again. Whew!

But there’s a darker side to my tears. Cat Stevens performed this the last time in America at the height of his popularity, near the end of his legendary North America tour. That was 1976. Meaning this amazing call for peace has been around for close to a half century. And look at the state the world is in. As inspiring as this masterpiece was back then, we never got on the “peace train”. Now forty-five years later. No peace train. No peace.

And that’s also something to cry about.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

World War III is coming . . . LET’S DANCE! | John Rachel

Make Beautiful Music, Earn Big Bucks!

There’s so much negativity out there these days. Pessimism is a poison pill.

So I’m here to offer some positivity! Here is the heartwarming and entirely true story of my launch into the stratospheric heights of fame and fortune.

Hot and sexy, oh yeah!

For sure, there are a lot of naysayers who think that success in the music business is impossible now, except for a handful of well-connected — usually hot and sexy — young artists. Granted, 70,000 new tunes are uploaded at Spotify every day. It’s reasonable to expect that in this tsunami of songs, a guy like me would get lost, made invisible by the blinding glare of millions of other songwriters, some using all sorts of fancy AI computer programs to write sixteen songs a day. These keyboard commandoes have been accused of riding roughshod over the creative playing field like a stampeding herd of buffaloes in a ballet class. Whatever.

The competition is stiff!

I refuse to buy into to such cynicism. Surrender is a sure guarantee of failure. I know in my heart that the world is just and kind and fair and takes care of all God’s children — as long as you have faith and brush your teeth three times a day. And lo! My faith has paid off in spades!

The big break just came this past week with a song I wrote way back in 2006, called Give Me Your Love.

There’s quite a story behind this particular tune.

“I wrote 26 songs today on my iPhone!”

I was living in Uganda at the time, becoming increasingly enamored with the pop music there. Yes, there’s a thriving pop scene in Africa. Very catchy, danceable songs, the kind you want to sing along with after hearing them a couple times. Most have reggae or reggaeton rhythms, great singers, excellent musicianship, highly-polished music tracks, incredible productions.

I was inspired! I started to get some fresh song ideas.

“I dedicated my last 406 albums to Paris Hilton. She’s so hot and sexy!”

One slight problem. I didn’t have access to any music instruments. None! All I had was a small laptop, a Macbook. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me, and I went to work.

This means, everything you hear (except for the singing) in this song was literally typed in. None of it was played. Note by note, I inserted the instruments, the entire musical track done with a computer keyboard and mouse, entered into a music program called Logic Express. I listened on earbuds.

“I am music and I write the songs … eat your heart out, Barry Manilow.”

Once the music track was done, I wrote the lyrics, came up with the melodies, the harmonies and background vocals, as I continued my travels to Kenya, South Africa, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, China and Japan.

Eventually, after a year of backpacking and working on organic farms, I returned to the U.S. with Give Me Your Love and several other songs complete.

“I write Christian rock anthems. All 24,837 of my songs are in the key of C and at 82 BPM.
Praise the Lord!“

Back in Portland, Oregon, I started looking around and found a studio singer with the right attitude and voice, hired her, and recorded the song into my MacBook using a single mic and pre-amp. I told her exactly what to sing, how I wanted it sung, gave her each and every part, then blended it all together in a final audio mix. I still genuinely love this young lady’s performance.

So now let’s get to my newfound success, directly related to this particular song! Hang onto your hats … or wigs … or hair weaves!

“Music is like life. You never get a second chance to make a first impression.”

About a year ago, I joined a indie musician site called Reverbnation. Then just recently, I signed up for DistroKid, a music distribution site which thousands of musicians have been flocking to the past couple years.

What this means for me as an artist is that my music is now available at Spotify, Apple, Shazam, Boomplay, Deezer, Pandora, Yandex, YouTube, iHeartRadio, Joox, and every other digital music distribution site across the planet!

Now get this! Three days ago, I got notified of my first earnings. If you dare, take a look at this, and if you’re an aspiring musician/singer/songwriter, burn with envy and awe.

(Click to enlarge)

Mind you, this money is available anytime I want it. I just hit the ‘Withdraw Money’ button and it’ll pop right into my PayPal account!

“John Rachel, you are so hot and sexy! Your nipples are pierced, right?”

I know as sure as my name is Heironymous Merkin that this is just the beginning. That the floodgates are now open. The sky is the limit! I’m even thinking I might offer an online series — like those Masterclass courses — on how to achieve success in the music business.

For sure, this has been a very exciting week!

Finally … because I consider everyone reading this a dear personal friend and honorary sister or brother, I would never expect anyone to have to spring the $.99 to listen to this song. Therefore, good people, here it is for you to listen to, download, pirate, or sync up with a video of you doing skateboard tricks dressed as an Oscar Meyer’s veggie dog, taking your toy Rottweiler to meet the macaque living next door, or leading a flash mob performing the macarena at the funeral of a skydiving champion whose chute didn’t open during the graduation ceremonies of your local high school. It’s a very versatile song!

Give Me Your Love – Written and produced by John Rachel

That’s the MacBook I traveled with, and this is where I recorded the vocal for “Give Me Your Love”.
Believe it or not, I still have that Roland keyboard and acoustic. Some things don’t change.

[This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Make Beautiful Music, Earn Big Bucks! | John Rachel

The future is so bright . . .

Idiots in power! (I try not to judge people by their looks
but I have to be honest. These people are scary!)

Above are just some of the people in positions of enormous influence and power who are promoting the war in the Ukraine. Make no mistake about it. They couldn’t care less about Ukraine or the Ukrainian people. What they truly care about is destroying Russia.

Contrary to what 111.99% of what is reported in the Western MSM, Russia did not want this conflict. Putin did not want to “invade” Ukraine. Putin and the Kremlin do not want to kill innocent Ukrainian citizens. Russia does not want to take over and occupy Ukraine.

Russia was FORCED intentionally into this military action. This nightmare is the product of US/NATO provocation, intimidation, aggression, all engineered at minimum to give Russia a bloody nose, at maximum to liquidate Russia as an independent country.

So where is this heading?

Everyone in the idiot gallery above is for sending more arms to Ukraine. Of course, arming Ukraine with lethal weaponry, the threat of Ukraine arming itself with nuclear weapons, is what made it necessary for Russia to destroy the Ukrainian military — which is what it is now doing — because it had become an existential threat. So what’s the solution proposed by the above brain trust for addressing the crisis? How do they propose fixing this mess?

More arms . . . more weapons . . . more threats to Russia!

“Gee, what started that apartment building on fire, chief?”

“Apparently, open cans of gasoline and kerosene in the basement.”

“Well, gosh darn, there’s only one option. Let’s pour more gasoline and kerosene into the building and see what happens.”

Several of the idiots in the scary collage above have moreover suggested that NATO and the US establish a no-fly zone over Ukraine. Which will mean — please give this your full attention — US/NATO planes and missiles deployed to shoot down Russian aircraft. Translation: Direct engagement, military conflict — yes, war! — with Russia.

Gee . . . how will this turn out?

After decade after decade of bombing; after twenty years of the War on Terror; a meltdown of the economy in 2008-2009; two years and counting of Covid-19 technocratic terrorism still hovering over us like a sledgehammer; with a coming economic meltdown which will make 2008 look like a rounding error; with the raucous, maniacal, increasingly fever-pitch pounding of war drums and shrill harangues against Russia and China; with a Congress and White House apparently inhabited by the certifiably insane (again just look at the above collection of whackos) . . . hmm. Whaddya think?

What will the future look like?

My prediction is that if we keep going the way we are, the future will indeed be . . . bright!

Very bright! And hot! Here’s how I imagine it’ll turn out . . .

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

The future is so bright . . . | John Rachel

Life In Japan: Good Hamburger Hunting

I’ve made it abundantly clear that I LOVE JAPANESE FOOD!

Having said that does not exclude the possibility of occasional cravings for the tastes and textures of cuisine from the homeland.

I’ve already praised R-H Bagels, an excellent LOCAL restaurant, a leisurely bike ride from our house, for its New York-style bagels.

And I’m sure I’ve mentioned that Masumi and I make a pretty darn good pizza right here at home. We even bought a pizza oven, so we can get those required high temperatures!

What I haven’t mentioned are my shameful failures at recreating a truly genuine, mouth-watering hamburger experience, despite more tries than I want to confess to. The problem mainly seems to be the bun. I’ve even resorted to croissant burgers, since I simply cannot find a decent hamburger bun or good approximation of one. I’m over-simplifying, of course, maybe to let myself off light. Okay . . . it’s more than just the bun. It’s getting the hamburger itself right as well. Apparently, I’ve lost my touch! Boo hoo!

This has driven us over the 14 years we’ve been together, in a desperate search for a truly great American-style hamburger. One that oozes bloody juices, clogs the arteries just sitting on the plate, and creates visions of one of the few things the U.S. actually still gets right these days.

Our first breakthrough arrived somewhat unexpectedly, though the only reason I didn’t expect it is because I didn’t stop to think about it. Actually, it should have been obvious. This was during a summer holiday in 2016.

Because the main island of Okinawa, in particular the major city there of Naha, is overrun by Americans — the whole island, much to the outrage of the locals, hosts numerous U.S. military bases — we found a spectacular hamburger joint called Gordie’s. Gordie? Actually, in all my years in the U.S. I can honestly say I never met someone who called himself ‘Gordie’. There was a legendary hockey player when I was growing up named Gordie Howe. But he was Canadian. Whatever.

Gordie’s in Okinawa is pretty cool! I highly recommend it.

But let’s face it. Okinawa is not exactly convenient.

A little more convenient, but still not that convenient, is a hamburger restaurant we found in Himeji, a place called Lamp’s Bakery. This was late 2018 when our friend Alex Malherbe came back for his second visit to Japan.

Certainly, Himeji is a great place to visit and we’ve been there together at least three times. BUT it’s over two hours away. This has made it incumbent on us to find something a little closer to home.

There are two hamburger cafés right in town. We won’t talk about them. You know why.

But hope springs eternal! (Or is that infernal?) Because . . .

In nearby Sanda — about a 30 minute drive — right downtown near the main JR train station, is Alto Hamburgers. Don’t have a photo right now. It’s a tiny restaurant, seats maybe 16 people. Interesting story behind it. The place is owned by college students, who crowdfunded the whole project, and obviously did their homework. They have a number of very good deluxe hamburgers — bacon, avocado, mushroom, of course cheese, teriyaki, etc. — but in my book, the real draw is their onion rings, which are to die for!

Having lavished all this praise on Alto, I now confess that while it puts up some serious competition, the real #1 hamburger slinger is a restaurant/antique shop/farm way out in the country — which says a lot considering how far out in the country Tambasasayama is — in Kasuga, a forty-minute drive from our house, but one well worth every second of it.

Ladies, gentlemen, gays, lez, bi, trans, double-transitioned, pan, non-binary, non-indexed, no-preference, self-cancelers, and protoplasmic virtue signalers from every whispered and howling corner of the human genome, let me introduce you to Locasse Farm Lab!

And there you have it! Driven by my desire to recapture the joy of devouring an American hamburger, our search is a success. Let’s hope that Alto and Locasse remain in business for the foreseeable and my arteries don’t gunge up with saturated the meat-based calking compound delivered by their HMDs — hamburgers of mass destruction.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: Good Hamburger Hunting | John Rachel

January 6 Gave Revolution A Bad Name

Even a broken clock is correct twice a day.

Likewise, an incompetent, historically ignorant, politically naive, diplomatically challenged, shallow, impulsive, narcissistic reality show host elected by a conned citizenry to the highest office in the land can occasionally get a few things right as well.

I won’t get into a spitting contest over whether the election was rigged to an extent necessary to “steal” it from Trump. Every election is rigged, to varying degrees. To deny that is to be out of touch with how fundamentally corrupt our electoral system is at all levels, and what an abysmal state our last-gasp democracy is in. Recall that on occasion, election rigging wasn’t up to the task, so a president was elected by judicial fiat.

Nor will I come anywhere near Trump’s motives or level of involvement in the shambolic insurrection that took place on January 6.

The important thing he got right was this: We should throw every last bum out of our legislative branch, both House and Senate. I didn’t say assassinate or torture them, although a good case could be made for “disappearing” the entire lot . . . for good! And for the good of the nation. At least barring them from public life. I include everyone, even Sanders, AOC, the rest of the squad, all of the virtue-signaling mannikins now in Congress who spend more time raising money for their reelection campaigns and their corrupt corporate-oligarchy political parties, than taking care of the business of governing and caring for the people.

A clean sweep.

A fresh start.

Yes, there have been a few promising initiatives. But overall, there is no evidence that any of the people in power, and I also include Biden, Harris, and just about everyone in the collection of self-serving mediocrities which populate this and past administrations, know or care the first thing about serving everyday citizens and “promoting the general welfare”.

I’m sure I’ll get a barrage of comments defending these lackluster sock puppets of the ruling elite. Let me just recommend in advance: I’m not talking about measuring these phonies by the vapid standards we’ve become accustomed to. The bar has been lowered so many times, it’s not a bar anymore. It’s a broken pipe laying in the mud. Reach deep inside, folks. Use your imagination. Recall the dreams and idealism of your youth. Imagine what the U.S. could be instead of trying to decide how much humiliation and misery we should tolerate.

I don’t have to defend the necessity of an occasional revolution. As you can see from the above quote, Thomas Jefferson did it for me. By his measure we’re about 12 revolutions overdue.

Even John F. Kennedy recognized that when confronted with extreme abuse of power, we are left with no alternative. 

What he said was unambiguous. If the system isn’t able to self-correct, then the system gets a big bloody nose. In extreme cases, we skip the left hook to the nose and go right for a decapitation. I hear Chanel makes a nice line of designer guillotines. How timely.

Let’s be clear. At no time in recent history has the need to replace those in power been so urgent and obvious. Real democracy is dead in the U.S. and the country is ruled by oligarchs. Not very smart oligarchs. Not oligarchs with a shred of decency. But money talks. The ruling elite have the money. Most everyday people are scrambling to survive. There’s no contest. 

As much as many of us prefer to ignore or deny, Donald Trump got a few things right. Unfortunately, he suffered from a debilitating case of ADHD. He’d say the right thing, then either contradict himself in action or appoint opponents of his ideas to key positions, who then went on to sabotage whatever occasional flash of brilliance he had. Plus he was an unbroken stallion, and the Deep State realizing they couldn’t control him, deep-sixed his presidency. Most of us are grateful for that but we have to keep in mind that the cure in the long term might be worse than the disease. Turning more power over — perhaps the entire control of our nation — to the invisible autocrats of our intelligence agencies and the untouchable puppet masters of technocratic tyranny is not a very smart idea. If that’s our strategy, we might as well just get it over with and take a blow torch the Constitution. How about during half-time at the next Super Bowl.

In some incredibly twisted way, Trump was the voice of the people — at least some people — probably not the kind of people anyone here would want to hang out with. But he had (and still has) a lot of fans. His campaign was the first time in a long time that it was publicly acknowledged that a lot of regular folks were tired of getting screwed by a rigged system. Yes, Trump couldn’t have been a worse bearer of this torch. But at least we got a fleeting glimpse of the flames.

Now we’re back to the default setting: Guys like Biden and gals like Harris spouting slogans that are ear candy and brain anesthetics, woke gender-blenders like Buttigieg striking poses to get a third-leg up on the next presidential election, fake progressives cheerleading their walk-in-place approach to solving the most serious problems in history, and hapless, hopeless, pathetic voters looking at fake radicals like the Squad as the flickering pilot lights for real change. What all of this screams is form without substance. We get fooled again. New boss is the old boss with a focus-group tested bumpersticker on his BMW.

The sad thing about January 6 — and everybody knows what I’m referring to because the Alice in Wonderland narratives around are still being milked by pundits and politicians alike — is that it had both sides working to make sure it flopped, that instead of representing an actual challenge to power or a wake-up call to the public or a warning label for the buffoons and criminals now holding office, it was a huge embarrassment, an unfunny joke, a reminder that politics is Pro Wrestling, only without sexy ring girls.

Joe Biden calls January 6 “The worst attack on our democracy since the Civil War.” 

Liz Cheney — talk about strange bedfellows, Cheney and Biden — claimed the forces behind January 6 “represent a threat America has never seen before.” Which is certainly easy to say if you’ve never picked up a history book in your life.

The Congressional resolution which established the investigation of January 6 called the mob assault “one of the darkest days of our democracy.”

The Democratic Party elites are calling January 6 the domestic equivalent of the 911 attacks.

Did all of these people get their education watching Saturday morning cartoons?

What are these pathetic snowflakes going to do when some tech-savvy insurrectionist strolls onto the national mall carrying a suitcase nuke and turns DC into a caramelized crater?

For better or worse, the whole thing was pure spectacle — that’s the way Trump and the MAGA crowd see the world — a pathetic attempt at symbolism wrought by morons. The government was in no danger of being overthrown by such a disorganized, ragtag bunch of urban hillbillies. The real danger lay in the weaponization and politicalization of this non-event by the Democratic Party and the intelligence agencies, which had a number of embedded provocateurs, on the scene as the PR stunt devolved to its disastrous denouement.

Granted, I can’t prove this. It’s impossible in an era of fake news and fake justice to prove anything. But if a little logic and common sense are applicable here, it’s axiomatic that our internal intelligence agencies knew exactly what was going to happen, and if they didn’t actively engineer this embarrassment, then they let it unfold knowing they could use it against their current and future enemies — that would be the American people. This is a classic, well-established, and usually effective drill. 

Where is this headed? A bill authored by truly one of the most lackluster congressmen in our history, Adam Schiff, will open a second war on terror, this one targeting domestic terrorism. More surveillance, more eavesdropping, more curtailing of free speech and dissent, more false flags, more fear, more anxiety, the final nails in the coffin of what was once for the world the beacon of civil liberties and respect for human rights. Yes, it’s 911 all over again. Wash, rinse, repeat.  

With friends like these, who needs enemies? With people representing us like Adam Schiff, who needs a foreign enemy to destroy our democracy and turn our citizens into slaves? 

Put the right label on it: MADE IN AMERICA! The destruction from within of our country, its ideals, its constitution, its promise of government by the people, its self-anointed role in the world as defender of human rights, guardian of human dignity, promoter of democracy. 

There’s only one remedy . . .

A clean sweep.   

A fresh start.

Maybe these “extreme” ideas are starting to make more sense?

But you ask: “What will happen? Congress has all sorts of protocols and procedural precedents, established rules and guidelines for committee assignment and processing of legislation. What about all that legislative infrastructure?”

Exactly! What about it, folks? How about throwing out the babies AND the bathwater? Is any of it serving “we the people”? Sometimes you have to completely raze a building and start from scratch. YES . . . THAT IS WHAT I’M RECOMMENDING! 

It’s either that or a constitutional convention or . . . uh-oh . . . we’re back to what Jefferson and Kennedy said.

Here’s a pop quiz. Do these words ring a bell? If they do, do they resonate?

“When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.”

If that’s too arcane and brainy, then tune into something more street hip, if somewhat less precise.

[ This originated at the author's personal webpage . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

January 6 Gave Revolution A Bad Name | John Rachel

A Tale of the Wild West

Some of our greatest traditions come out of the Wild West, a rough-and-tumble time that forged America into the greatest country in the world. A formative time that gave Americans that hard no-nonsense edge that is universally respected far and wide.

Moreover, some would say that the cowboy ethic is still alive and well and drives not only our dealings with the pitiable nullities who aren’t fortunate enough to live here in the “land of the free, home of the brave” — you know, foreigners — but is the key to understanding ourselves, what makes us tick.

So here’s a little yarn for you all to enjoy and get educated with. There will be a question at the end — only one — but I know the kind of smart people who would read something like this here at my website. I have no doubt you’ll all get it right. Or set me straight if I’ve got it wrong.

Here goes.

It was late summer 1859. Billy Balalaika had just arrived in town and was sitting at the bar of its only tavern. The place was noisy, packed with a lot of grisly fellows wearing dusty chaps and smelling like they hadn’t had a bath in three months — because they hadn’t.

Billy was the only guy in the place wearing a black hat. Everyone else had a white hat. That was a weird story in itself. Billy had owned a beautiful stetson he had bought in Durango but a strong gust of wind had blown it into a ravine. So the first thing he tried to do when he got to town was buy a new hat.

The store had an excellent selection. All white. He chose one but the lass at the store said, “Sorry. Can’t sell you that.” She reached behind the counter and pulled out a black hat, the one he was wearing right now.

“But I want a white hat.”

“Can’t do it. I’ve been given instructions. We know who you are. It’s this black hat or no hat.”

Billy was baffled. But he needed a hat.

So here he sat, brand new black hat tipped back on his head, sitting at the bar, sipping a beer, chatting it up with the bartender, trying make conversation with the two smelly blokes on either side.

Making a dramatic entrance that commanded everyone’s attention, in walked Sam Unkel, the roughest, toughest, meanest badass west of Topeka.

Sam drew his gun, walked right up to the bar, roughly turned Billy around, and pointed his six-shooter right at Billy’s face.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Are you sure you have the right person? I’m Billy Balalaika.”

“I know who you are and what you’ve done. Everything that’s gone wrong in this town is your fault. Everything that’s wrong with this world is your fault. So you’re going to die. Right now.”

Billy knew he wasn’t kidding. This guy was obviously insane. His reputation had proceeded him. He had killed many others, most of them innocent people. Sam thrived on being the roughest, toughest, meanest badass around. He was a very sick man.

Billy managed to keep his composure.

“Listen. I’m just having a beer. Why don’t you just sit down and enjoy the evening. Look at this place. Full of fine people, just having a little fun after a hard day’s work.”

“Nope. I’m going to kill you. I hate you. And everyone in this town hates you. I’ve told them all how evil you are. In fact, the only reason I ain’t pulled this trigger yet, is I want to see you suffer. I want to see you squirm and cry and beg. When I’ve had enough of your groveling, then I’m going to splatter your f*cking brains all over that mirror behind the bar.”

It was now apparent there was no reasoning with this lunatic.

Billy then did something so amazing, some people these days would call it “playing three-dimensional chess.”

Billy smiled at Sam Unkel, then at full volume in a beautiful operatic baritone broke into the Russian national anthem — IN RUSSIAN!

Sam, of course, had no idea what he was hearing. But it completely gobsmacked him. For the briefest second, his mind wandered as he tried to process what was going on.

In that instant, Billy drew his own weapon, and fired a perfect shot which blew Sam’s hand clean off. The hand, still grasping the Sam Unkel’s weapon, flew across the room and landed in the middle of a table where a poker game was in progress.

Sam, the roughest, toughest, meanest badass around, went running out of the tavern, screaming in pain, blood shooting out of the stump, all over his beautiful white hat. He didn’t die. But he’s still trying to learn to shoot left-handed.

Billy finished his beer. The bartended comped his drinks. Billy tossed his black hat in the trash on the way out the door. He left town in the morning.

That’s my tale of the wild west, folks. Wasn’t that fun?

Okay, here’s the question. Ready?

We know who fired the only bullet. But who started the gunfight?

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

A Tale of the Wild West | John Rachel