'Coruscated Confabulations' is a collection of stories and experiences, most of which took place in prior decades. They are taken from or based upon real events, with a certain admixture of fictional embellishments.
Most of these stories were written over a period of years and were set down in other venues (such as the Middle East, China, Hawaii, etc.), looking back. They are a synthesis of real events suffused with a certain artistic license. In any event they serve to represent/portray the author's unique perspective on human experience.
Below appears a list of the 27 or so chapters contained in the book.
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Contents
Chapter 1: The Point of it All…pp 9
Chapter 2: The Doodah Room…pp 33
Chapter 3: Saddam's Toilet-1…42
Chapter 4: Saddam's Toilet-2... pp 52
Chapter 5: Saddam's Toilet-3…pp 60
Chapter 6: Heartbreak Hill…pp 71
Chapter 7: Rabbit Moon/Tiger Moon…pp 83
Chapter 8: The Shark God of Moloka'i…pp 95
Chapter 9: Down in the Valley… pp 103
Chapter 10: Farewell to Watsonville…pp 116
Chapter 11: A White raven…pp 124
Chapter 12: Searching for Haumea…pp 161
Chapter 13: The Little Green Menehune…pp 175
Chapter 14: Zipping Flies with Papa Hemingway…pp 185
Chapter 15: A Sparrow in the Storm…pp 206
Chapter 16: Notes from the Bunker…pp 219
Chapter 17: Chicken Skin Stories of Old Hawaii…pp 227
Chapter 18: Just Some Haole Pounding on a Pahu…pp 230
Chapter 19: The Marchers of the Night…pp 238
Chapter 20: Pissing from a Great Height…pp 243
Chapter 21: An Ocean Ran Through It…pp 254
Chapter 22: A Dark and Stormy Night…pp 269
Chapter 23: If Dogs Don't Go to Heaven…pp 280
Chapter 24: Le Cervin, where it all Began… pp 285
Chapter 25: The Fabulous Furry Flying Fuzz Brothers…pp 301
Chapter 26: Outdoor Bob & the Leaf Blower from Hell…pp 306
Chapter 27: What Did You Do in the War, Daddy?...pp 315
Excerpt
RABBIT MOON, TIGER MOON
"We had much to do
and quickly.
The sky-earth spins
and time is short.
Ten thousand years is long
and so, a morning and an evening count.
The four oceans boil and clouds fume with rain.
The five continents shake in the wind of lightning.
We wash away insects
and are strong."
-Mao Zhedong, 9 Jan 63
Old Yao waded into the lapping froth of spent surf. It was not yet fully dark as the faded imperial ochre of the dying sun flared out upon the rocky sand. Yao did not notice the futile explosion of color, for his thoughts were racing ahead to more practical things. Soon it would become very cold without the brittle rays of the slanted sun for warmth. Yao did not have to remind himself of this obvious fact as the dark and frigid waters of the Pacific Ocean penetrated his tattered old boots. Thinking vividly of the cold expanse of unfriendly water stretching out before him, he glanced back at the beach before nimbly pulling himself up and over the side of the small fishing boat.
On the shore, standing mutely in a quiet row just beyond the water's reach, Lee's three remaining children watched their father intently. He smiled a brief, inner smile to him-self. It was always thus, he thought as he turned his attention to the matter of getting the small craft underway. Each night the children saw him on his way as he set forth on the lonely emptiness of the big Monterey Bay. Soon they would grow up and be forced to deal with the same problems of living that he and his wife faced. It was not a happy, fulfilled life, he reflected, but it was as good as any. The squid were still plentiful, and the decision to fish at night had for the moment resolved the bitter un-pleasantness with the dark-skinned Guai-Loh (a Cantonese term that literally means ‘foreign devil’) who resented Chinese fishing boats competing with them during day-light hours.
Professional Reviews Alternate Unrealities
"While there is no doubt that these musings and reflections shall never be actively considered for nomination for a Pulitzer Prize, It is equally certain that one other person on this planet has ever viewed life precisely as has the author of this interesting book." -Phil S. Stine, Critic, The Osgood Schlatter Peripatetic Review
Endrocrinologically Speaking
"From an endocrinological point of reference, these stories suggest the author suffers from a vastly disturbed (but highly creative) metabolism that has been acutely plagued (at uncertain times) by general anxiety, non-specific fatigue, gastric constipation, flatulence, depression and systemic flux; but when did endocrinology ever pretend to enable valid insights into the functional physiologic validity of the Muse's corporeal essence?" -Hakaru Fugu Hashimoto, MD
Absoluter und völliger Müll!
„Ich vermute sehr, dass ‚Coruscated Confabulations‘ eine ontologische Anstrengung ist, Freude an der Tatsache zu haben, dass das gesamte menschliche Leben auf unserem Heimatplaneten hoffnungslos, unbemerkt verurteilt ist, wenn es gegen die größere Geschichte der Arten betrachtet wird. Klar ist der Autor nicht deutsch oder er würde die Absurdität der Aufrechterhaltung der Hoffnung erkennen!“ -Schaude N. Freude, PhD, Wiener Institut für Teleologische Reinheitsgebot
Reviews for "Coruscated Confabulations: Oh! The Humanity!"
While I have no idea what “finctional embellishments” are, I have a feeling that your highly interesting and varied experience and resolved within some very unique stories here.
I found the second professional review somewhat revealing that you have written something about physical maladies in one or more of the stories. I guess I could gather that from the title. I come from German stock, but I know very little and German even though my Thai friend thought I did when I was able to somehow determine what food to buy (sauerkraut, wienerschnitzel...) from menus when we are in Germany. ;-)
I was about to chide you about getting the slant of the sun wrong on the beach in China when I realized you were writing about California and Monterey Bay. Yes, the water is very cold and so is the air after sundown. Like John Steinbeck, the California coast is full of stories just waiting to be written.
Speaking of stories… I love to to have read a couple more excerpts from some of the other stories. This one was very intriguing. Squid fishing at night. Some of my friends were abalone enthusiasts. One Chinese engineer (can't remember his name) that I worked with was a champion striped bass fishing… inland, not in the Pacific.
Soldier's Gap is a non-traditional mystery with literary elements. The high school principal is brutally murdered, but Deputy Sheriff Dave Jenkins's search for meaning and love is a much more significant theme.
"Murder isn't usually this fun
I found the second professional review somewhat revealing that you have written something about physical maladies in one or more of the stories. I guess I could gather that from the title. I come from German stock, but I know very little and German even though my Thai friend thought I did when I was able to somehow determine what food to buy (sauerkraut, wienerschnitzel...) from menus when we are in Germany. ;-)
I was about to chide you about getting the slant of the sun wrong on the beach in China when I realized you were writing about California and Monterey Bay. Yes, the water is very cold and so is the air after sundown. Like John Steinbeck, the California coast is full of stories just waiting to be written.
Speaking of stories… I love to to have read a couple more excerpts from some of the other stories. This one was very intriguing. Squid fishing at night. Some of my friends were abalone enthusiasts. One Chinese engineer (can't remember his name) that I worked with was a champion striped bass fishing… inland, not in the Pacific.
Ron