‘Tis the Season…

I heard a quote recently, ‘We’re all just walking each other home.’

The original quote is by Ram Dass, but that’s irrelevant to this writing. The quote might be as well, except to say that it’s suddenly among my favourites.

The holiday season is upon us once again, and that means something different to everyone reading this. Christmas, Kwanza, Hanukah, or myriad others. Family, joy, connection, isolation, pain. Maybe nothing at all.

There’s a good deal of variety to the season, and that’s to say nothing of the New Year.

Once upon a time, I used to write an essay every New Year. It seemed like a great way to reflect on what I’d accomplished, what I’d loved, what I’d lost, and what I’d yet to learn. I think I hoped that by putting it all down on paper, some great revelation might come down to me from on high and steer me towards some bold new course.

That never happened.

Still, I remain rather fond of the year’s end…or beginning—however you choose to see things. I’d say it’s a sort of glass half-empty or glass half-full kind of thing, but I don’t really think it’s that complicated. Neither is the whole glass idea for that matter. Only if you treat it as such.

What matters, of course, is what’s in the glass. This season, I hope you all have something to fill your cups and warm your guts.

I think the more important thing is the quote above…which is—like any worthwhile idea—about life and death. The terrible truth is that none of us are getting out of this alive. Life isn’t about surviving, it’s just about getting back to the void from whence we came in the most entertaining and enjoyable way possible, and I think that a big part of that comes down to who we’re walking with.

So, as you go along your holiday season, pay attention to those beside you. They’re the only reason for it to matter, after all.

It’s been a while since I’ve written like this. It’s been nice. I have a whiskey beside me, and the pounding of the keyboard is driving out the third playthrough of the album I’ve had on repeat since I first started this dance a couple of hours and several projects ago.

I’ve found a groove.

Writing is about speaking truth, and if you can’t do that, then you have no business writing in the first place. Sure, it requires patience, practice, and just a touch of pugnacity, but without some essential truth to tell, none of that is worth jack shit. Writing is about capturing what you can’t avoid saying, not about forcing yourself to say anything. It’s revelation, not repetition.

That’s it. That’s all I have to say. Now, I’m going away to walk beside those whose company I cherish, if they’ll have me.

I’ll be gone for a bit, and with any luck return to you my dear readers around January 12th. That said, I may be re-visiting the weekly format in favour of publishing whenever the hell I choose. It seems more proper at any rate.

I’m writing another book, and that takes up a good deal of my time and attention.

I don’t make resolutions anymore, so I won’t leave you with any. No false promises, no hollow claims, no empty braggadocio. I’ll be back when I can. Look out for me, especially at unlikely times.

Wait till you see what’s next…

Happy Holidays you filthy animals,

-Brad OH Inc.

Edgar’s Worst Sunday Review

Today, we have a great new review of Edgar’s Worst Sunday to share. This comes from our friend Ellen Michelle, who you can visit right here.

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-Brad OH Inc.

Ellen Michelle’s Review of Edgar’s Worst Sunday:

This book offers an interesting take on the afterlife and what it would really be like if Heaven was simply our greatest fantasy.
I struggled with the rating on this book (why can’t I do half-stars?!) but ultimately decided that although some solid editing would have taken this book to the next level, the author was trying something unique and I have to give credit for a well done effort.
The main character, Edgar Vincent (don’t call him Vincent!), is inherently unlikeable, which makes us wonder how he was accepted into Heaven in the first place. He gives off the vibe of being an unreliable narrator, but really he tells the truth the whole time—the truth just might not be what you want to hear. If you don’t mind reading about a character that isn’t likeable, this is a good choice! Edgar is well developed and has a nice arc that shows that he starts to understand what he did wrong in life, and what he might do if he were given another chance. Does he follow through on this though? Only time can tell.
The side characters—mostly Edgar’s best friends from life—are a bit repetitive and do little to add to the story themselves aside from giving Edgar flashback stories to tell. Each has their own distinct function and characteristics, but ultimately they were all just drinking buddies with Edgar.
It’s really Edgar’s story, and I think the nature of how the side characters are treated add to Edgar’s characterization. You can see that Edgar is selfish and narcissistic, so it makes sense that a story being told from his point of view wouldn’t focus on how wonderful his best friends are. Rather, he tries to show how he is better than them. A good narrative device to use—this could have been made better by some solid editing, but I see what they’re going for and it works well with who Edgar is as a character.
This is definitely not your typical afterlife story, and religion plays only a very small part in it, but it is definitely an intriguing look at what happens when our wildest fantasies are presented to us in what appears to be the afterlife.
In most regards, it does not seem like it could possibly be Edgar’s WORST Sunday, but it is definitely a very long Sunday filled with various mishaps and a lot of drinking—trust me, don’t play a drink-for-drink game with this book, it won’t end well.

Coming Soon… The Gentleman Juggalo Podcast!

What’s up ninjas,

It’s been a minute since we’ve posted anything under our ‘Gentleman Juggalo’ category, but have no fear! We here at Brad OH Inc. will never forget the Juggalo family, and we have some exciting things coming your way soon.

Some of you may have noticed that my former podcast, ‘Tell Me a Story- With Bo and the Juggalo’ has wrapped up, but I’m happy to announce that it’s only stepped out of the way for something bigger and far more fresh.

That’s right, coming soon you can hear The Gentleman Juggalo Podcast. We’ll explore the early years of ICP, and try to get in depth with some of their career moves, artistic choices, and underlying meanings as I take a non-Juggalo newbie (Bo) through the mysterious world of the Dark Carnival!

Do you have any specific requests? Things you’ve always wondered, or ideas you’d like another opinion on? Is there a particular song you think Bo should listen to—strapped down Clockwork Orange style? Let us know in the comments below, or by clicking here.

Until then, stay tuned to Brad OH Inc. for more news on when you can hear new episodes of The Gentleman Juggalo Podcast!

Whoop Whoop,

-Brad OH Inc.

‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ Selected for Inclusion in the Capital City Press Collection

Today, I’m thrilled to announce that Edgar’s Worst Sunday has been selected for inclusion in the Capital City Press Collection!

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The Edmonton Public Library is committed to supporting and promoting the work of local writers. The Capital City Press Collection, housed at the new Stanley A. Milner Library, celebrates and showcases books written by authors residing in the Greater Edmonton Area, as well as members of the Alexander First Nations, the Enoch Cree First Nations, and the Paul First Nations.

The collection will be unveiled on February 14th, 2020 at the opening of the new Stanley A. Milner Library. I’ll provide more information as it becomes available.

-Brad OH Inc.

Edgar’s Worst Sunday Celebrating 1 Year of Publication!

With the Halloween season behind us for another year, we here at Brad OH Inc. took the time to sit back, relax, and realize that October—and Halloween in particular—is not only the best holiday of the year, it’s also the 1-year publication anniversary of ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’!

It’s been a super exciting year for me, and I want to thank everyone who’s picked up a copy of ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’, left reviews, come out to events, or shown support in a million other ways. It truly means the world to me!

-Click Here to Buy-

In life, Edgar Vincent always maintained one great passion—himself. A semi-successful composer, his rock star lifestyle suited him well, and his narcissistic outlook ensured he was a man with few concerns. Callous comments, thoughtless promiscuity, binge drinking, and excess sufficient to shame Caligula were standard Saturday night fare.

 Sundays for Edgar had always been a painful haze of sickness and regret.

So when Edgar finds himself in the cloudy planes of the afterlife on one particularly bleak Sunday morning, he determines that in order to find peace, he must put aside his ever-present hangover and try to figure out how he got to this point…and where he’s meant to be going now. But as Edgar makes his way through this surreal spiritual realm, he realizes that facing his death is hardly as difficult as facing himself.

 Heaven, however, presents Edgar with an unending smorgasbord of hedonistic delights, so he’s in no particular hurry to change his self-serving ways. After all, considering he’s already dead, what more could he possibly stand to lose?

If you haven’t managed to pick up your copy of ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ yet, there are as many places as ever to do so.

Order online at:

Or you can find physical copies in the Edmonton area at:

Finally, if you’ve read the book and haven’t had a chance to leave a review yet, it really is one of the most helpful things you can do to support an author.

You can leave your reviews at:

Thanks again to everyone who’s read, reviewed, or even just visited this blog. It’s people like you that make words worth sharing.

With love,

-Brad OH Inc.

Edgar’s Worst Sunday- Back In Stock!

Today, we’re happy to finally address a problem which only our most astute readers likely noticed. Lately, my novel ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ has been listed as ‘Sold Out’ on the Chapters/ Indigo website, among others.

While it’s true the first printing sold out, we’re happy to assure you all that ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ is once again available at Chapters/ Indigo for online purchase or to order at any kiosk.

-Click Here to Buy-

It’s also available for order through Amazon.com and Amazon.ca.

If you prefer to buy in person, ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ is also available at these most excellent bookstores:

So, if you haven’t grabbed your copy of ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ yet, fortune shines on you today!

If you have, or if you’re planning to soon, please remember to leave a review at Amazon.com, Amazon.ca, and/ or Goodreads if at all possible—there’s no better way to support an author. If you have any questions about that process, please contact me through the comments, or by clicking here for e-mail.

Endless Thanks,

-Brad OH Inc.

Re-Share: A Ghost Poem

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampConsidering the season, I thought it only right to re-share this old poem from 3 years ago. I think it’s the only real Halloween poem I’ve done so far, and I remain quite fond of it.

I hope all my readers had a great Halloween–whether they celebrated last weekend, on Thursday, or this weekend. If anyone has good costume pictures, send them my way and maybe we’ll do a feature here on BradOHInc.

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A Ghost Poem:

I’m haunted still by visions past,

By ghostly wails and die long cast.

Porcelain smiles and ochre eyes,

Find me much to my surprise.

Sleeping, thinking, lost in mind,

I’m stalked by those I’ve left behind.

A ghostly whisper comes to me,

As I search for serenity.

There is no rest, no sure reprieve,

From the specters I believe.

A curling grin, a twisted brow,

An implacable stretch from then to now.

I toss and turn upon my bed,

These memories searing through my head.

I rise aloft and cross the floor,

A grinning vision at the door.

A flickering vestige of all I had,

To have and lose and then grow mad.

But ever smiling, turns away,

A promise that nothing untrue may stay.

Alone I stand on the edge of dream,

The perfect start to Halloween.

-Brad OH Inc.

Happy Halloween to the Readers of Brad OH Inc.

It’s that time of year again.

Our favourite time of year.

Halloween is a time when we can become anything we want. Whether that’s a creature from our nightmares, an angel from our dreams, something wild, whacky, frightful… or even something we’ve always suspected we really were.

We can wear it without judgement, be it without cause for explanation—without call for question.

We can be weird or dashing, scary or funny, bold or invisible, obnoxious, quiet, reserved, or zany. We can be ourselves, someone like us, or someone we’ve always dreamed of. Maybe we can find that last illusive spectre out there as well.

So, to all the ghouls, creeps, clowns, crackheads, werewolves, vampires, ghosts, goblins, mer-people, super heroes, super villains, regular heroes, crooks, lagoon-folk, sasquatches, Killer Klowns, gremlins, wooly whatsits, jesters, Juggalos, Jokers, mad professors, incubi, demons, elves, hobbits, serial killers, and freaks. To all the people I’ll pass without recognizing, meet for the first time, or never get to glimpse. To the people I’ve loved, lost, longed for, and those I’ve long forgotten… happy Halloween.

I hope you figure out exactly what you want to be.

-Brad OH Inc.

Change, Fear, Truth, and Renewal

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampThe only immutable

Force in the world,

The grinding of time

Is the sense of absurd.

Futility tracing its

Claws down your back,

And leaving its markings

On minds sorely wracked.

Then doubts do set in

And preponderance lost,

So shifting with worry

To escape at all cost.

When realization

Makes fools of us all,

Stand tongue-tied and mute

Never hearing that call.

Not too late does it happen

That sudden release,

Understanding, acceptance,

And finally, peace.

-Brad OH Inc.

Re-Share: I Found God in the Drums of ‘Boléro’

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampTolkien, philosophy, music. This is one of my favourite posts, and it deserves to surface again.

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This article is inspired by the classical piece ‘Boléro’ (Link), by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) (Link). If you aren’t familiar with that piece, it should be considered required listening for the article to follow. You can find it here (Link).

I listened to this piece recently, and found an unexpected intensity within its plodding rhythm. I hadn’t put the song on for any specific reason, yet early in, I understood the depth of the moment I was having.

It should also be noted, perhaps, that I was at the time firmly entrenched in my (11th?) reading of J.R.R. Tolkien’s ‘The Silmarillion’ (Link), a book to which I ascribe particular inspiration. So you should probably read that, too.

Nonetheless, my revelation started with the first beat of that oh-so-familiar snare-drum. Described as an ‘ostinato’, the pulsing rhythm of this opening drum continues throughout the entire song, remaining constant as everything else is thrown into chaos.

It struck me immediately as terribly spiritual, although it took me a while to articulate exactly why that was.

You see, in ‘The Silmarillion’, the one God, Eru Illúvatar, conceives of creation as music—performed by his angels, the Ainur. The Ainur sing his tune, but among them is the spirit Melkor, who sews discord into the song, and causes turmoil. Some of the Ainur join in Melkor’s discord, while Eru adds new themes to the music to counterbalance Melkor’s efforts.

In the end, when all music stops, Illúvatar offers the Ainur an opportunity to see what they have done, and creates the world and all existence to reflect the reality of his divine tune. Unto the Ainur he says, “Mighty are the Ainur, and mightiest among them is Melkor; but that he may know, and all the Ainur, that I am Ilúvatar, those things that ye have sung, I will show them forth, that ye may see what ye have done. And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.” (Pg. 17)

Since childhood, this story always struck me as one of the most apt and inspiring metaphorical representations of the divine will. And so, as I listened to the ever-increasing notes of ‘Boléro’ rising above and competing with the persistent drum-beat in the background, this was the idea that settled in my mind.

The Silmarillion goes on to tell of the events of Middle-Earth being a representation of the Music of the Ainur, and assures us that although great evil does occur, its power is limited, and in the end all things turn to the greater good. This requires a lot of faith, but it’s something I’ve held onto since first reading it as a young elementary school boy—hoping that it would prove true in our world as it does in this fantastical place.

Throughout the duration of ‘Boléro’, the snare drums maintain their eternal beat in perfect rhythm. Meanwhile, horns and woodwinds, strings and symbols are taken up against the drums. They increase endlessly throughout the song, rising to an incredible cacophony and very nearly drowning out the snare drums which are their source.

At times, the listener can barely hear the drums, but when the music changes, or when there is a brief silence in the din, they are ever to be found beneath the turmoil, just as they were before. Patient, persistent, eternal.

Taking this in, I couldn’t help but feel I heard God in those snare drums. The music rising against it was like the duelling theme of Melkor—want and greed and malice and destruction. These are present still in our world, and will often threaten to overwhelm the senses of those unguarded ears who know not how to find the consistency of Grace beneath.

Much like the confusion of the composition at hand, it’s easy to get lost in this world. These days, perhaps more than ever, the myriad distractions and temptations we meet each day are easily sufficient to overwhelm the senses and deafen us to reason and decency. It takes a concerted effort and a determined will for us to focus on what is right and just, when so much around us seems so dark and hopeless.

But of late, I have seen greater evidence of Grace and beauty in this world than I have long held possible. It’s buried no doubt, often times nearly beyond reach. And all the while the daily racket of industry, and want, and loneliness and grief compete for our ear, turning us away from the true rhythm of the world and focussing us only on ourselves.

But to miss the rhythm is to miss the point entirely.

For no matter how dismal the world can be, there is light to be found, and beneath the din there is the rhythm of Grace for any with the will to listen for it. Immutable and constant, it plods along as it always has, unaffected and undeterred by all the competing noise, and when the racket of distraction dies down, its beauty sounds out all the clearer.

I know it isn’t easy. The clamour of discontent can be deafening, and it is often all too easy to fall into this discord and march along with the madness rather than keep to course. But this is folly, for no matter how distant it may seem, for every evil there is goodness still. Where there is hate, there is also love. Where there is terror, there may also be found mercy. For the loneliness of a consumerist society there remains the comfort of the family home. There is friendship, and loyalty, and faith, and hope, and honour…for every conceivable darkness, there is a light which can still set things right.

The drums of decency pound on, and when the din of darkness rises too high for the ears to readily perceive them, all the more must we focus our hearts and minds to that eternal rhythm, and trust that all will unfold according to that divine beat.

-Brad OH Inc.