Watch out world

by monicasjungle

When I was a little girl, I used to read a lot of books.  (Ok, I still read a lot of books, which is a very costly hobby)  My favorite books to read were sci-fi and fantasy.  So while most sci-fi geeks were getting lost watching Star Track, I was reading weird books about time travel, supernatural powers and something that I still amazes me: Paradoxes.  Actually, paradoxes scare the shit out of me.

For those who don’t know what a paradox is, I suggest you look it up and meditate on it a bit.  And after you read a few definitions, let’s see if you don’t feel like drilling an electric screwdriver through your skull.  (Obscure Sci-fi movie reference, bonus points if you can name the film.)

Have I ever told you that my grandfather used to be a rocket scientist?  No, I’m serious, he really worked for NASA and he fucking built rockets.  He was an engineer and he was brilliant.  Like off the chart intelligence.  But the really fucking amazing story is the supernatural occurance when he died – but that can wait for another blog.

My other grandfather fought in WWI (for the Germans) and had his arm blown off by a land mine.  To this day, he is living, with only one arm.  As a child, I was never afraid of his lack of limb, how odd for a child, huh?  But he was my grandfather, and it was normal.  And let me also just throw in something pecular: my grandmother had one of her breasts removed, due to breast cancer.  So my grandfather had one arm and my grandmother had one breast.  Fate?

Back to my rocket scientist grandfather.  His name was Marx.  As in Karl Marx.  You see, my great-grandfather was a Marxist, which is a form of Communisim.  (You should really be looking these words up) In those days, speaking out against our Democratic Republic was UNHEARD of.  This was during the Communist scare.  I wonder if he used to meet secretly with his Marxist buddies to plan the working class revolution in a cigar filled basement with a single red lightbulb dangling overhead.  And when his wife bore their only child, he decided, “Aha, and I shall name him MARX!” And then his eyes narrowed and the red light flickered mysteriously.

You see, I have this in my blood.  It all makes sense.  The rocket scientist.  The Socialist.  The red flickering bulb.  The swirls of smoke.  Distingished men with suspenders and greased hair and thin moustaches. 

So let me just say that I will be a revolutionary until the day I die.  And I will be a dreamer.  And maybe someday I will be a rocket scientist.  But my point, this whole blog, is this: I think I’m ignoring my destiny.  I need to start writing again.  Because I have so many different life experiences to draw on.  I am one of the most interesting people that I know.  And I don’t say that to brag.  I only say it matter-of factly.  I could tell some wicked stories.  I could write some wicked sci-fi books.    

To be continued……

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