After a week of various tunings, I finally settled on “standard” (so much wasted time), came up with riffs for both verses and chorus and a rhythm bridge. The lyrics are done-ish as well. Sigh. I may have a new song tomorrow. Maybe next week.
I’m about to unload and I’ll make no apologies in the process. I’ve had it up to my hairy chin with the way things are in this world, but I’d never even think about the quick and easy way out. I’m a stirrer of all things fecal, therefore feces I shall stir. It’s fun. If you don’t believe so, then you’re just not any good at it.
I’ve spoken before on how my next door neighbor lives in Hell. Her upstairs counterpart is a full-blown schizophrenic whose caregiver (parents) have wiped their hands clean. The poor guy is a writer (which makes me want to sympathize) with less IMDB credits than me. That has to hurt, because I’m a failure in that area; so far.
He also “dispatches” for a living, so he has access to every official communications scanner available. He mixes his medication with alcohol, causing fits of violence towards himself and his neighbors. I would like to thank the carelessness of the USPS for providing me with this gentleman’s name and social media privacy grooming for making society believe our “facts” will not be seen by someone who’s fed up with living in a mental health warzone.
His fits of self-harm are so extreme, I can feel the impact tremor in my own home. Our homes don’t even touch! There’s an easy 20 feet between us!
I’d really like to get the guy some help but he refuses. The police don’t come when called or, if they do, it’s because HE called them. He makes false reports all the time stating my frightened downstairs neighbor and her daughter are the ones creating the disturbances. Yes, they show up when the white guy calls because they obviously would rather be beating on a black woman’s door.
With this realization, I got all dolled-up to go to the police station personally. I am the “day-walker”, after all. I can do a believable redneck act at the drop of a hat because I used to be one. I can carry on long diatribes because I’m a writer. The Daywalker. The secret weapon. The ghost of Cracker Barrel. I was immediately met with resistance since the enemy changes faces often; depending on the side of the hate-fence in which you stand. They wouldn’t take a report, and they sent another officer down to ensure I made it “safely” to my “ANTIFA” stickered vehicle. I didn’t even raise my voice or flail my arms frantically like the “Whacky Wailing Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man”!
Ultimately, and this is a direct quote from a Dallas PD officer (who was wearing a working body cam at the time), “It’s not against the law to have a mental health crisis.”
Having no luck at the local level, my screams for a solution found its way to the State where I filed a report with Adult Protective Services. It’s been months with no reply, and I’m beyond irritated with the lack of help offered to this man, and the ignorance toward neighborhood safety. I’m serious when I say this person gets in his vehicle and goes driving while engulfed inside a schizophrenic episode. He’s covered in sweat and howling at the moon on his balcony like a horny Uncle Fester! We’re SURROUNDED by school zones and a tourist neighborhood!
Not their chair; not their problem.
Then, again thanks to “former telecom genius turned writer” moxy, I remembered what I learned from a decade in the fine art world. Last name recognition in the city of Dallas is EVERYTHING. It just so happens that this whack-job gentleman shares un uncommon, yet notable name with neighborhood royalty. It suddenly all makes sense.
Once again, white supremacy in a capitalist country has allowed this notable family to quietly brush away one of their rejects onto the commoners, and snipped the lifeline for help. I won’t even bother repeating the fact that our Mayor was re-elected as a Democrat and changed his affiliation to the Republican party two weeks later. Our chief of police has his questions run by an attorney prior to answering during press conferences. Shady times, my friends. Shady times.
Don’t be surprised when the non-existent rise in Deep Ellem crime – the one that’s got the “10pm closing agenda” in the public eye, is what brings Trump’s National Guard presence to Dallas. I’d place that bet with my last dollar without a moment’s hesitation.
Back on track, when the anger subsides and cooler heads prevail, this insane man would be my best friend if not for his violent outbursts. Once more, through the incompetence of the United States Postal Service and the carelessness of the modern human via social media, the dude is into good music and LGBTQ rights, all while being cursed with “whiteness”. That’s a difficult lifestyle to live without adding a dash of self-medicated schizophrenia. I feel sorry for him, and would like to get him some help, but it’s nearing the midnight hour.
When your choice of crazy interferes with the safety and security of my own pack, the wolf has a tendency to leave the den in search of unconventional solutions. No one wakes The Queen and gets away with it.
Feel free to chime in with any help or critique; our hands are truly tied here. Until they’re not…
The “comments” section is at the very bottom of the page. That way, if you’re going to be a poon, I can try to sell you a book on the way down.
The Reverend’s Reads
To most, 1865 was an eye-opening year. The American Civil War was officially over and the soldiers fortunate enough to survive the bloody conflict returned home to collect the pieces of their former lives. To young Arizonan, Robert Jack, the fateful desert homecoming marked the end to all he once knew. Forgiveness is overrated. Death is final. Revenge, however, dances between the fine lines of mortality and eternity. Love always finds a way.
“Reading Jim Walker and the Redemption Hymn is equal parts quirky fun and riveting action. Cloud’s confident, entertaining voice draws the reader in like an old radio western: the perfect bite-sized story with a main character you’re ready to follow through every adventure he finds himself on. So, tune in next time…”
– Megan Stockton, author of Lovely, Dark & Deep
The history books would read that Jim Walker was brutally executed after the Battle of Goliad, but a few promises in the right ear blurred the contrast between blood and ink. Now an aging bounty hunter on the verge of retirement, his services are requested in the Northern Arizona Territory to solve the terrifying mystery of the Verde River Massacre. With guns from a local Deputy, courage from a saloon proprietor, and a deathbed confession from an all-too-familiar Medicine Woman, Jim sets off on what could be his final adventure. Will he lay the ghosts of his past to rest once and for all, or is he simply whistling his Redemption Hymn?
“Someone call DC and tell them this is how you write a female hero character!” – Lisa Lee Tone, Bibliophelia Templum
Angel Burns is a young firefighter with a shrouded history. During a routine night at work, she stumbles upon a demonic ceremony that brings her memories out of hiding – as well as her repressed supernatural powers. Angel soon learns her life was intended for things greater than extinguishing fires for mortals. Now on the payroll of the Vatican, Angel embarks upon an epic quest to protect the Gutenberg Bibles from evil. If successful, she will secure peace for generations. If she fails, the power of the ancient books will bestow an eternity of darkness upon all humanity!
Toby Liberman is nearing the end of his rope. After a fateful confrontation with his wife’s lover, he is chased into the woods only to be discovered by an unidentifiable creature. He is attacked and rendered unconscious. Upon waking at the scene of a gruesome triple homicide, Toby is arrested as the sole suspect and thrown into a jail cell with a strange man that knows way too much about his predicament. The stranger reveals to Toby that he now possesses the curse of the werewolf. Using his new-found strength to flee his captors, Toby begins to discover that things are not what they seem in the sleepy town of Twin Oaks, TX. Now hunted by law enforcement, as well as the town’s gun toting civilians, Toby seeks vengeance against his false accusers and embarks upon a quest to clear his name once and for all.
A Curse Beyond Comprehension. A Power Beyond Belief. A Girl Far From Home. Katie Liberman is your typical eighteen-year-old college student…or at least that’s what her family thinks. Picking up five years after the events of A Taste of Home, Katie has dropped out of school and embarked upon a dangerous quest to find Kurt Jimmerson, the New York City attorney responsible for her family’s werewolf curse. Unknown to her, the attorney’s grip on the ‘City That Never Sleeps’ is tighter than imagined and she’ll need any and all help available to be victorious. But… where do you find friends when you’re Far From Home?
Twin Oaks, Texas is at war! Taking place immediately after the Far From Home events in New York City, Katie Liberman has returned to rescue her birthplace from the clutches of her nemesis. As the paranormal battle of North vs. South rages in the shadows, the tiny town must decide to fight against the odds or become one with the darkness. Blood will be shed and only one will survive as the final battle of the Home Series concludes.
I know this is the part where I’m supposed to talk about the book, but I feel as though the synopsis needs its own preface to truly understand. 2023 was quite an eye-opening year! I began it by living my dream as a vintage steam locomotive fireman, but that dream was soon squashed thanks to my writing career. It won’t matter that you wrote your extreme horror offerings years ago and under a pen name. Also, it won’t matter that your publisher and author friends from days gone by express pleasantries and kind, nurturing words to your face, because they’ll clique-up and talk trash the minute you turn your back. F**k the biz, create. Create for art, not clicks. Click for love, not hate. Those are words true artists should have no issues living by, yet most seem to hide behind their keyboard shields, flinging ill-thought words of destruction toward once-trusted ears. Don’t pour something into everything; pour everything into something. Do it all by yourself if necessary. With any luck, 2024 will be the year of The Reverend. I’m not exactly sure what that means yet, but we’ll find out together. Anyway, here are a few short stories and poems I wrote as C. Derick Miller in 2023. I stole them from myself. Fair and square. Enjoy.
Poetry has always come naturally to me. Whether it is an expression of emotion toward someone I care about, or a display of humor pointed in the direction of those I loathe, it is my true outlet. Several of these works were written in a passenger seat while exploring the highways of the United States and somehow managed to survive “The Great Ex-Wife/Ex-Girlfriend Poetry Purge” of 2019. Others were penned during COVID-19 quarantine. Although it may not be the most epic poetry collection you’ve ever read, it all contains bits of blood and soul. You will feel something. Guaranteed.
“This profound collection of horror brings classic monsters into new light in the modern day” – B.L. Blankenship, God Walks The Dark Hills series.
The modern world is a crazy place. Worrying about childish politicians, empty grocery store shelves, and our pending membership to the “global disease of the week” club, it leaves very little time for the average reader to finish an entire novel. This is where Six from Five Seven: Short Stories from a Short Man comes in clutch! A story per day to keep the impending apocalypse away, with a single day left over to contemplate why you purchased this book in the first place. That sounds like an entertaining week when compared to the one you were destined to have regardless. What do a cursed husband, a privileged brat, a curious prostitute, a repressed savior, a vengeful son, and two hell-bound soldiers have in common? Their stories lie within the pages of this collection and invite you to tag along on their journeys of fate, redemption, and demise. When finished, you, dear reader, can hide this book inside your basement with the rest of those important documents you wished you’d never taken home. The FBI won’t be happy, but at least they’ll know you’re a cool person for owning a copy while conducting the raid. That must count for something, right? Let’s hope the judge thinks so!
Also, there’s a few other things not listed here that are floating around out there. Best of luck with the hunt.
Current Projects
Rev. Dare Cloud
Reverend · adjective. worthy of adoration or reverence. synonyms: sublime · sacred.
is a Dallas author, musician, and gonzo journalist. Some of his works include the controversial splatter-western Starving Zoe (written as C. Derick Miller), the Taste of Home trilogy, and the ongoing Jim Walker series. He is also the co-host of the American Justice Podcast and Senior Writer/Junior Producer for AtuA Productions LLC. His literary crushes are (of course) Hunter S. Thompson, J.D. Salinger, and Kevin Smith. Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.
“You’ve got to press it on you You’ve just been thinking That’s what you do, baby Hold it down, Dare!” – Gorillaz
The Gonzo Wolf 
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