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The Musk Clan: A Galaxy of Genius

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From Elkarameloo Elon Musk, the trailblazing visionary behind Tesla and SpaceX, doesn’t just dream of colonizing Mars—he’s built a family that seems destined to conquer the stars. With his partner, the enigmatic musician Grimes, Elon has welcomed children whose names alone—like X Æ A-Xii and Exa Dark Sideræl—spark curiosity and debate. These unconventional monikers reflect a household where creativity and innovation aren’t just encouraged; they’re practically a way of life. But Elon’s family isn’t a solo mission. He’s a father to multiple children from previous relationships, including twins and triplets with his first wife, Justine Wilson. This bustling brood mirrors the chaos and ambition of Elon’s own mind—each child a potential pioneer in their own right. From late-night coding sessions to impromptu rocket sketches, one can only imagine the dinner table conversations in the Musk household, where ideas likely fly faster than a Falcon 9 launch. Beyond the headlines, Elon’s family lif...
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Rock a Bye Baby

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  Just a twist- Davy Crockett's older sister, Effie Crockett was invited to help some mothers in the Muskogee Tribe. Once she arrived in camp, Effie laughed at what she saw. The Muskogee Tribe had a custom of cradlng their pappooses among the swaying branches of birch trees. This protected their babies from ground insects, the sun, and wild animals. After first finding it funny, she soon learned all the great reasons for this practice and marveled at the beauty of it. Effie watched the swaying and soothing motion of the topmost branches of the trees. She loved how each baby enjoyed nature, how they listened to the songbirds, observed every ladybug, and smiled at the colors of a butterfly, every little breeze was felt and enjoyed by these young ones; each babe seemd perfectly content. One of the Tribal mothers began to sing a song to the children in her native tongue. As the Muskogee mother sang, Miss Effie observed a small tear running down the mother’s cheek. Lulu se pepe i le pit...
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Don’t Take the Girl

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  Of late I have begun the examination of life. Life changes. Nothing stays the same. People come and people go, voluntarily or otherwise. If it’s voluntary, you cope, if involuntary you catch religion. Time waits for no man, but if you’ve ever waited in your car while your wife is shopping you know that it will wait for a woman.  Relationships change. What was exciting the first time becomes routine. Surprisingly, someone who was window dressing is suddenly realized to have been a cornerstone after they are gone.  Society shifts views and acceptance or rejections of situations or positions. While gladiators were the thing in Ancient Rome bullfighting is taking a downturn in the twenty-first century. While the flamboyant uncle was laughed at before, they become the transgender politician who can be governor now.  Universal acceptance is a myth. Everything does not “taste like chicken,” in fact KFC is now suspected as not being chicken at all. The old order changith i...
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Bad Medicine

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      This is a post that is meant to be shared with everyone you can think of.   Our 17 year old daughter went to the doctor. The doctor recommended the Gardasil vaccine . We needed to check it out first. A pamphlet was brought home and we read it. It was like one of those commercials we all see every day. Soo...upon the return visit we decided we would protect our beautiful daughter from cervical cancer by letting them administer the Gardasil vaccine.  The Gardasil vaccine is a series of 3 shots, not just one!!! After the first shot we didn't recognize a sudden change in her health. After the second shot she was complaining of headaches, a pain in the lower left back of her head, and feeling really tired,her joints ached. We thought it was because she was training really hard for high school sports.  We took her back to the family doc who told us it was just stress and suggested Tylenol.  She went in for the third shot of Gardasil, made by Merck . Th...
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One PaPa at a Time

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  By Lisa Norgren   Photo: TheGuardian A grown man looms behind my three-year-old daughter. Occasionally he will poke or tickle her and she responds by shrinking. Smaller and smaller with each unwanted advance. I imagine her trying to become slight enough to slip out of her booster seat and slide under the table. When my mother views this scene, she sees playful taunting. A grandfather engaging with his granddaughter. “Mae.” My tone cuts through the din of a familiar family gathering together. She does not look at me. “Mae.” I start again. “You can tell him no Mae. If this isn’t okay you could say something like, Papa, please back up—I would like some space for my body.” As I say the words, my step-father, the bulldog, leans in a little closer, hovering just above her head. His tenebrous grin taunts me as my daughter accordions her 30-pound frame hoping to escape his tickles and hot breath. I repeat myself with a little more force. She finally peeks up at me. “Mama . . . ...
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Smoke on the Water

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    Long ago, when I was a boy, I contracted a flu virus. I do not know if it was the flu in a more formal capacity. During cold season the flu was mixed in and the difference between cold and flu became a blurred line which is very difficult to discern. If you were sick for a considerable length of time, longer than two weeks while three or four days was considered to be a cold. The flu never just goes away it fades and returns, each time less severe than the time before until it finally leaves until the next year   Back in them days nobody took the flu seriously. It mainly was an inconvenience that only killed ninety-year-old grandmothers which was considered to be one of those “about time” deaths where some other old couple would be having breakfast and upon reading the obituaries one or the other would exclaim, “ EDNA DIED! ” whereupon the other would remark, “Well, it’s about time. And life moved on.   I was six years old. I was in the first grade, and everyone ...
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Karly’s Testimony

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His hands shook from the icy wind whipping off the Wasatch as he fumbled with the key to his work-shed. In the summer, the wind from the Wasatch mountains provided blessed relief from the summer heat, but wintertime reminded one that the Salt Lake Rim was home for the mule deer and their brothers, the wolves while bears just slept it off, waiting for warmer days.   It was early. On his ranch, just north of Caldern Hale, Raymond had been using dynamite to blow out stumps and clear more for more beets. Beets and salt production had provided industry to the Mormons during the development of what would become the state of Utah, leading to the ammunition production during World War Two and the worldwide proliferation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Did Joseph Smith have any idea of what would become of his vision of Moroni that night on Hill Cumorah so long ago? Raymond was not thinking about this as he mixed the dynamite and ammonium nitrate fertilizer to blow the s...
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