Wednesday, April 26, 2017

"For Real Hospital stories,... #28"

Having dreams, and flash backs of the recent surgical fun. So I'm lying there, and there's this guy in a faded "Guns 'n Roses t-shirt, and an old chefs hat with his arm up to the elbow fishing around in my guts.

With his free hand he's chugging down from a jug of "Wild Turkey". He notices I'm awake, and sez, "...How ya doing there sport?" Before I can answer he gives me a swig of cold whiskey saying, Here ya go...cures all that ails ya!"

A few shots spill into my open guts to which the "Chef" Sez "...don't worry 'bout that it'll help clean shit out in there. The anthologist whom I hadn't notice till then falls over.

...he goes again" sez my chef.

"Our pal her like to take his work home if ya gets my drift."

I looks around, and the surgical theatre looks like a "Clean Room" at NASA. to concerns me. I'm wondering if they has plans for me. Ya know some sort of covert "Old sick Black guys in space program".

Before I can ask some guy in an ancient Imperial Chinese Ming outfit comes in banging a gong,...some other fella playing Jimmy Hendriks riffs on guitar. 

Hey ya can't make this shit up folks.

Anyhow over the crackling speaker there something about how it "Opium Break". That, and the whole crowd of doctors student, and tourists that was hanging around all spilt through a four foot high door off to the side there.

My Chef call back saying the procedure would "keep" till they all stumbled back.

I felt reassure, and passed out from the pain.

Stay Tuned.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

"Uncle Syd in Dreamland"

I've been having a load of seriously weird dreams. For example I wasn't even in the dream state yet, and crap started happening. I was just closing my eyes when all hell breaks out I'm seeing opening credits for the nights dreams!

It was all scrambled inside out, and backwards, but there it was.
Then the main feature begins. The sea is rising..rising before my eyes! I'm at my old school I'm carrying kids to a boat. I'm wading in sky blue rising water. There are swells that knock me, and kids over we're under water then up again.

When under btw I hear music I come up just the sound of the rising waves.
Sea planes the sky is full of them, but they makes sounds like birds thousands of birds in song. There are auroras green amber yellow all over the sky. They mix, and swirl from horizon to horizon.
Out to sea all kinds of ships. Giant containers huge aircraft carriers their flight decks crammed with people. Ferries skiffs small rubber rafts all leaving for the open sea.

The dream morphs, and I'm in my childhood home looking for my dog. Yeah my dog not my family my folks all that Hallmark noise. I want my damned dog for Christs sakes.
The dream morphs again, and I'm back at work at the radio station. There's all the usual behind the scenes mayhem that the engineers never I mean 'never' get any credit for solving...fuck'em all to hell.

Gawd how I loved, and hated all that!
It was good in some ways since in this particular episode I saw old friends now long departed. It was so good to see them. On awakening I wondered if it was their spirits come to say hello. I like to think so.

What can I say the dreams morphed, and morphed again into my past, and probable futures all mixed, and matched together...dreams do that.
In one New York was on fire from the Battery to the Bronx. The sky the wind the air was full of bright sparks burning amber's. The bridges were alight like blazing trees.

The fire had jumped.

It'd jumped the river, and was igniting Brooklyn thereby starting what I knew would eventually be called the "Great Long Island Fire Storm". I was so cold. It was snowing it was a blizzard. The frozen winds were carrying the fire to the Island.
Then I was looking down from space, and saw the plume of black smoke slowly eating everything in it's path.


I saw my father in some kind of hardware shop. He was looking at tools, and taking to someone...don't know who. I didn't call to him. I was just happy to see him so I just "stood?" there watching him.
He was much younger than my last memories of him. He looked like he did when I was little. I wanted to call to him, and tell him I'd grown up, and he had died Johnnie my brother had gone too as had so many relatives.
However something told me he knew all that, and it was okay so I just watched as he got what he came for, and left the shop.

There were several more morphs, but they're all seriously nuts so never mind. I woke up, and saw it was snowing again...'careful what you wish for.

Stay Tuned.

Monday, April 24, 2017

"DEATH, and Pie"

If you are anywhere within 50 miles of a multi warhead hit on a major city read no further. You are dead...period.

This from direct blast injury from being buried under burning wreckage asphyxiation as all the air is sucked up by the multiple fire storms that will soon congeal into a vast regional blaze.

If you are 100 miles away your chances would be 1 in 40. This for immediate survival. Your dangers will be break down of order, and the radioactive frontal waves from the firestorms that will in a few hours reach you.

Your life expectancy increases the farther away you go.

If I 'had' to be in a state that was hit I'd want to be a minimum of 200+ miles from the many ground zeros. Even then I'd be on the move to get further away especially if the winds were in my direction. We must remember if a nuclear exchange between the major powers happens it will not be 'one' mere bomb from a plane.

This the cold war stereotype of attack.

Whole squadrons of ICBMs will be assigned to hundreds of individual military industrial financial, and yes 'cultural' targets. This is intentional.

Understand this kind war for both sides is to the total destruction, and death of your enemies. The idea is to utterly destroy not just the military economic, and political centers, but the whole complete culture. The traditions histories peoples. To wipe you, and the memory of you from the face of the Earth.

That is the true purpose of Nuclear war.

That said you must know that each target will have 10 to as many as 50+ warheads hit it. Especially if a military area or political center. For example. After the cold war when the Soviet achieves were for a short time open to western scholars we discovered that the Pentagon alone had 30+ warheads of varying strength targeted on it. NYC in excess of 300.

One has to think in such terrible terms. Imagine the un-imaginable if you even have the slightest hope you're going to survive.

Bottom line...

If you can see it or hear it you are immediately dead or dead in hours.

However a terror nuke is another matter.

This may be "just" the spreading of radioactive dust over a distance of 5 to 20 miles. That or a low yield radiological explosions at several regional locations. Each with perhaps a quarter+ the force of the Hiroshima bomb.

These are "survivable" for many if circumstance is with us.

If somewhat favorable conditions are met. Perhaps half the population of the target city (s)  'may' live. If not then just a fraction may "exist" with traumatized shortened post strike lives. This of course because of blast injuries emotional scaring's, and radiation induced cancers in the next 10 to 30 years.

That's it in a nutshell for a "Terror Bomb (s)".

Things of course can vary widely because of type of warheads weather time of day social resilience, and local ground conditions.

...That said "Who wants Pie!"

Tuesday, April 4, 2017


Something wrong is happening to me. It just started just became clear. I 'hate' Mr. Trump. Before I just saw him as a tragic buffoon that became president by accident of history. However it's what he, and his accomplices are doing day to day. An inferior soul is the most powerful man on earth.
The trigger was a matter of fact atrocity against the working women of our country.

He signed yet another executive order that evaporated many of their work place protections...just like that, and to the applause heartless republicans including women. Women who by their power, and wealth are insulated from this cruel act. ...See image above.

"By overturning the Fair Pay order, Trump made it possible for businesses with federal contracts to continue forcing sexual harassment cases into secret proceedings — where the public, and other employees, may never find out about rampant sex discrimination claims at a company." ( MSN)

He may have no real idea what he just did. The republicans wanted it he gave it to them and that was that. They wanted it speculation sez because of the Fox News sexual harassment scandals were coming out regularly. As a favor to Fox many assume republican politicians did them a solid. This via Trumps willingness to sign anything put before him.

This is who we are.

Failing a true smoking gun in the Russia mess that hangs around his neck. He will govern for at least this term. Given the stupidity laziness, and mendacity of the majority of the country. Especially those that would rather watch the game eat pizza, and gossip on their devices than vote. 100,000,000+ of them. They who can't find their own nation on a map, and know nothing of history if it's further back than a year.

Perhaps this is what we deserve.

Maybe the nation should break up into cultural regions as Canada has done. The hoards of Jesusland Nazis will have most of the country, and the sane...those that can read past a 5th grade level will have a small corner for themselves. Perhaps in time filling the UK's empty seat in the "E.U."

I look at this empty man, and I hate him. No compassion. None. Nor for his cult that will let he commit any crime he likes or the republicans want from him. This for me is a defeat. To hate is a moral defeat. I need to think on this.

I truly believe our republic is finished. That such as this empty suit could rise so high tells the world that the American era is over. It's done. We are now ready for historians to pick our bones. Chart our rise, and fall. From the founders who were wise adherents of the Enlightenment to a corrupt false deluded emotionally disturbed unsound would-be rapist.

No matter who or what comes next no matter their virtue or lack there of. The United States of America has ceased to be an example to anyone. The lamp of the Statue of Liberty should be put out. the circuits the power cables to the lamp cut, and ripped out.

It's over.

Angela Merkel Chancellor of Germany is now the Leader of the Free World.
An irony that overwhelms. Already historians are spilling digital ink on this bizarre, but final turn of events.

Be well be safe. Keep close to family, and friends because that's all we have now. Peace.

Stay Tuned if you wish.

Monday, April 3, 2017

"A Mad King"

Something on my mind I've been trying to refine. However the surreal tragic comedy of  the fall of world liberalism keeps getting in the way. One gets distracted by the antics of a delusional uneducated bully being in the White House.

This, and his allying himself with similar grim personages around the world. However 'these' villains are neither stupid nor uninformed. Not good for our mad king or us. Indeed the outcome of such an alliances will be historically tragic for all the world. As for Trump we now know he has no grand plan no great thought out scheme to up-end history.

No his bizarre behavior is not a clever screen for his, and his clique's real intentions. Our tragedy is that he's really in fact actually that uniformed delusional vicious stupid, and thoughtless. He, and his administration is what I'm trying to understand. What has happened? This is not actual politics. It's something else I can't yet name.

He was placed on the throne by a series of ill considered maneuvers by both the Republican, and most damningly the Democratic parties. Forces of rationality were divided, and the mob elected someone as ignorant as they.

The Electoral College designed to prevent mob elections,...failed.

It sat mostly ignored through the generations, but when most needed because of neglect could not operate. What should have been a unanimous vote against the ascension of the most unqualified candidate in the entire history of our republic instead gave only a handful of nervous nays.

In other times when the king was born or became mad or otherwise not able to rule. There were ancient equivalents to our 25th Amendment. A fail-safe against the chaos of an ill or mad king. A "Regent" rules in the name of the Crown. He does this until the royal is fit enough to resume command.

In our case that would be the Vice President. However if the lords, and high nobles don't 'want' a recovery. Don't 'want' a Regent or in our case a Vice President to rule.  This because the mad king is doing their bidding. Further these lords, and nobles don't care what demented laws alliances or proclamations the king makes or issues.

Don't care so long as gold enters 'their' confers, and laws of their wanting are enacted.

So is this it? Is it this simple?

We're stuck with a mad king because insular power groups benefit too greatly from royal madness. This, and they mean to keep him on the Throne indefinitely. Or at least until the Royal Armed Forces led by the Imperial civil service the educated, and the loyal to the Constitution lay siege to the fortress. Something they can't believe will ever happen...much as the French aristocracy did.

Here I dream.

These traitors will be seized. The mendacious lords, and 'their' king will be put to trial

If they keep their heads depends on the extent of their theft, and the damage they did. If relatively minor because they didn't rule long perhaps mercy. Forfeiture of titles, and wealth. However if longer reign endangerments to our national safty, and cruel, and terrible suffering by the people. Then perhaps something more entertaining, and final for the usurpers.

As for the king that depends on if he may still be of use. If not there may be a terrible accident.

More on this as I consider the ongoing complications.

Stay Tuned.

"New Birth"

Will survive this ignorant fool of a president. The unfortunate Mr. Trump, and his clown car of hateful co-conspirators. The Republic is far more resilient than some are aware. Google our history. There have been fools, and criminals before, and we're still here. We will survive heal comfort, and repair. It's a talent America has.

My good friend Eugene Rothman on his page said to this: "...Unfortunately, because of Trump's shortsighted decisions, not to mention those of the "fiscal conservatives", many of the most vulnerable will not survive."

My reply: "...Brutally likely. However if we lose some they will not have perished in vain. From their suffering, and loss as Lincoln said, "We shall have a New Birth of Freedom".

Stay Tuned.
"Day One"

My meds withdrawal went critical so I called 9-1-1. The EMT gals came in two seconds, and injected me into the "Kings County Nut House". This where questions were asked possessions stripped pills given, and my naked body detector swiped. ...Twice just to make sure.

This is where I wondered if that 9-1-1 move was swift.

The armed though smiling "helpers" gave me powder blue jammies wrist I.D. , and my own cell. which these days are called "Pods". My! It was pastel heaven. Dickens' Bedlam made over by the Art Student's League.

The scene.

There were 12 pods to a platform. Each with a plain flat bed, and hard plastic comfy chair. Pastel. Beyond was an open area where the walking wounded...of which I was one... sat drawing, and coloring.

Above this gleeful noise were two large mounted TV's. On one bunnies, and kittens on the other collapsing glaciers villages bombed to bits Africa starving riots in Russia, and America imploding.

No wonder everyone there was nuts.

Mean time I got medical work-overs. Blood stool piss, and that was just lunch. Later it got invasive. Btw nut houses are as advertised. Bad. Actually rather 'very' bad. Good intentioned clean tidy pastel oppression bad.

I had more entertaining adventures which ended with a simple meal of Soylent Green, and morphine. Well not really I was just hoping is all.

Towards night folks got itchy.

'Here to tell 'ya. The "Joint was Jumping". Dinner, and a show.

"Day Two"

I was transferred from the loonie bin to the medical wing for serious dissection. A nice kid gave me a sonogram to see if my guts were still there. Good news they were, and more or less working. Gooder news I wasn't pregnant.

Being an old guy I'm now an experienced patient so know the drill. Plenty of tests to stack the Medicaid cost. Uncle Sam is a first class sucker bless his soul!

The medical priesthood finally figured out I was in blinding fucking I told them when I got there a day ago. All 24 blinding agonized hours ago. That, and They wondered if I'd like something for the "discomfort".

...Civilization is indeed a strange thing.

I said "yes" with as much Orwellian irony as I could. This was rewarded with assorted goodies. Christ I love drugs! A note is it me or are all of the medical workers in Brooklyn from Barbados? Not a complaint mind...just wondering.

Well all good things...

They topped me off with stuff I can't pronounce. Gave me all sorts of stuff to sign. They wants to hook me up for more Medicare bucks for themselves, and I was all for it...drugs.

Actually they was neat folks just going about comforting, and saving lives...ya know like we all do. So I'm home in much less pain. Though still a bit fucked up. They wants me back tomorrow. I told them not likely. We worked something out.

Bottom line I ain't dead after all.

Stay Tuned.

"Drama Queen"

This has been a more than interesting end of winter. An actual murder in my building. This with ripples still echoing around the 'Hood. It may have triggered my recent health emergencies which gleefully continues.

Dizzy confusions deep pains sweats shakes what fun.

I called 9-1-1 yet again after midnight. The symptoms spiked badly. So bad I asked my Doc if my family should be called in...Drama Queen to the end. She was swell. A comfort as were, and are near all medical folks.
She told me "ending dependency" on powerful medications is a "slow process". 'And that how I was likely to be "around for a long while."

That's good,...I think.

They dealt with my assorted yuckies. Shot me full of gawd knows what. Took all sorts of samples...again,...stuck an IV into me, and to sleep I went.

I'm home again. Btw the photos above from my Kite adventure exactly a years ago.

"A room of one's own". Ms. Woolf, at least w/the title, was more than on to something. Also really you don't have to post you've all more than shown me how much you care. Your earlier/comments reactions are more a joy, and comfort than I can say...bless you folks.

The weird thing is I want a Pizza...plain. A heaping hot ass messy drippy pizza...I wanna have one bad. It would probably put me into a coma, but hey.

'...back in a while.

Stay Tuned.

"Chills, and Spills"

Life all life is tough as nails. Everything living on this world is a winner in nature's most brutal of contests. Natural Selection. All of us from the simplest cell to the whales, and great oaks. Even that unlikely species of spacefarers.
Even we.
We're all insanely resilient far. Roaches sharks alligators, and sponges honorable mention for longevity.

I bring this to you in the context of my current Drama Queenery. I should have bit the dust I don't know how many times, but insist on hanging around making trouble. I think more than we imagine do this...they just don't write about it.


That's the latest withdrawal noise in my digs. I haven't had this since I last enjoyed drug withdrawal. That time in the clouded evening of my youth from the less than legal variety.
Truly we've become a Nation of Junkies. (...Opioid hell some places polite drug store prescriptions in others.)

We are sucking down all manner of interesting chemicals. Officially, and self procured.
What would William Boroughs have made of this. What are current neo-hipsters making of it. I look forward to this generation's "Wild Boys".
(  Eh, Boroughs again...

So here I am wandering at the edges of a detoxed life. However the old ways still cling deeply. Letting go one wonderful needful fang at a time. Christ I love drugs...all kinds. Always wanting to see more than what our eyes betray us with.
Though clean for decades the dreams, and it's effects hang true. Several years of self-medication followed by near decades of legal, and now I see far more destructive Meds.

Meds. How slowly this little word has clawed into our world. Rapped around our throats at our own invitation, and slowly happily strangled us.


Yes ongoing pains nightmares, and assorted un-writable adventures.

However Chills.

I'm so cold. Shivering. frozen inside my damned guts. This happened long ago during a serious dope overdose in my former days. I wasn't afraid then, and not now. New things or at least rare things are what our evolved selves love. '...again thank you Natural Selection.
This shit just turns us on.
From this came fire particle physics pizza comic books anthrax bombs plastic Little Richard, and Mozart.

What is it where did it come from how did it happen..., and at last the most dangerous two words in the human world.

"What If?"

May the Gawds forgive us.

Stay Tuned.


While in my illness time I turned to my old friend Walt Whitman. This his Civil War prose from my well thumbed volume "The Portable Walt Whitman" Penguin Classics. I've dragged this thing around with me maybe 15 years now.

It never lets ya down.

In particular given my current adventures I've been sailing his Civil War writings. The hospital notes for sure. He while a scribe with the War Department,...or was it Interior? Well after his duties he'd go over to the overflowing soldiers hospitals spread about Washington City as it was then.
He would give comfort to those of both sides. He'd listen give little gifts of writing paper pencils hard candy. Take mail from them, and such small, but vital kindnesses as that.

As he said the listening the just being there seemed to these men the greatest gift. In reading of these survivors from our worse most bitter war. These boys tender young teens to older gents like myself well into their sixties. These who fought in this Republic's most harsh of People's wars.
They tore slashed burned, and shot each other to tatters.

This for an idea.

Wars fought for these...for ideas were then very new. Traditionally one fought because your prince or king ordered you to. Now for what's in your heart. Which only made the cruel institution even the next century the 20th would more than prove.

As I've read, and watched said in movies on the subject. The tragic nature the most tragic thing about the War Amongst the American States was that it was fought over a dream. One that would set the course of it's peoples. A tragic difference in dreams.

I was asked why would I as a person believing in peaceful resolutions wear a uniform?

Well. Other than I just like it, and it's interesting drag. I wear it because like all of you. All of us here I'm a soldier in the unfinished business on the destiny of our Republic.
Now here we are at yet a new stage of that on going great contest. Still imagining Dreams. Our direction as a community of communities still being decided though now digital battlefields.
The outcome remains as it has so long been,...Uncertain.

Stay Tuned.

I just got a government brochure about joining the poor. I mean even more than I have. I must say it don't look good. Starvation beatings by cops living in ice water rats eating your toes when you sleep, and still getting Jury Duty. I think I'll wait for a better offer.

Stay Tuned.
"Ain't this Some Shit?'

Just read in the "Times" that loneliness among those over 60 is epidemic.

...ya think.

I go for days sometimes weeks without speaking to anyone. My circle of comrades are long gone. The ones still breathing are far away. That, and I've become a part time shut-in.

All this evolved so slowly over time that I didn't really notice...well I knew, but didn't. Ya know how that can be.

They say the fire inspectors now look for signs of elder isolation as well as fire hazards during inspections. Well we have inspections here, but it's not door to door...yet.

They just check the building's electrical, and gas systems then split.

Signs of isolation are shabbiness unwashed dishes, and the like. I guess general untidiness. A depressive lack of caring. My digs have always been neat however they are not as nice as they were.

It needs a paint job some plaster work that sort of thing. I mean it's okay, but not as nice as I used to keep it. There just didn't any longer seem to be a point.

Which btw are exactly the signs they look for.

When I was very ill over these last years I knew the only way anyone would know I'd kicked the bucket would be the smell...especially in summer.

I actually left my door a-jar when I thought my time was up so they wouldn't have to kick the door in. I later found that this is somewhat common for the isolated elderly very ill to do...and I thought I had invented it.

Aw well.

Look I'm fine. Just complaining is all. That, and I'm really tired of fighting the damned system just to keep the scraps of "Senior" stuff I'm supposed to have...I just want to be left alone for heavens sakes.

On the other hand it's a way to get me out of the house, and speaking with folks so...

Stay Tuned.

"Who am I that Angels would Speak to?"

Dreams. I slept for 18 hours or more. I don't know it came to be, but it did. I Traveled, and learned. This was a hymn from the Jews, and others to me. I dreamed so many dreams all inter-connected. I'd wake, but when asleep again the same cycle waited for me. Even the same people sometimes.

The realms of Judaism Mother of all Peoples of the Book sang to me.

I was shown, and taught it's purposes wisdoms, and love. The main lesson was that all are good. "All". No matter who where or what.

I was on a plane no ticket passport just on it. It landed or rather appeared in Israel. It's history played out for me as if I floated above it. The good, and bad. I saw the cruelties wars...all of them. I was plainly told that it was the greed for power by the chiefs generals, and world brokers of power that made them all happen.

The people all the peoples of the region wanted to live in peace wanted to enjoy their communality. Soldiers all of them were deceived used, and slaughtered in their many thousands for the power of the few.

As it is in war. All wars.

I was shown taught the mysteries of the beginnings of the Faith. Which I was also told had no real difference from any other than form. It was so beautiful so full of kindness, and love as they all at heart are.

I was embraced into it's meditations, and wonders. So many souls spoke to me were kind to me loved me. This is what I always wanted what everyone at heart wants.

To belong to love, and be loved.

This no matter who you are what you are or where you are. Dream after dream told me this in many ways.

In these dream-time events I was wandering villages cities country sides from different times, and ages. However always the same message. The people want loving kindness the kings, and the mad want division, and murder.

Even as I write it lives again in my mind's eye.

Miracles were performed. wise words written read, and enacted. I must say again the sense of kindness was ever present. My anger, and cynicism were put to rest in this place.
People of every kind even children taught me in the ways of patients compassion, and empathy. This despite my angers ego resentments, and old sins I've dragged around for a lifetime.

A boy a sweet yeshiva boy led me over a hill,....

Then a wide desert. Night. I was among the Mothers of the Dream Time. The Aboriginal folk of what we call Australia. They were all looking up. Up into a sky full of more stars than I thought existed.

A wind blew. A wind full of song.

I stood among them, and watched eternity. I now wonder if these makers of the Dream Time were the ones that called to me. That showed me the Mother of the Book, and it's reasons for being.
Who am I that Angels would speak to?

Stay Tuned.
"The Madness of Angels"

Beware inking down of your dreams. They'll either end up in some future holy scripture, and or as evidence at your trial. This runs through my mind as I try to make a kind of coherent sense of my dreams of late. Dreams enhanced by the pharmacology of Emerald City health-care.

Long may they dispense.

To the matter. Time is not linear, and space warps. The damned thing stretches contracts , and twists. Like origami on crack whiskey, and pastries.

I mean just ask Niels Bohr...he'll give you an earful.

My nausea simmers my vision jump cuts. My hearing enhanced painfully so. I have never had the pleasure of chemical withdrawal. I'm not sure I recommend it.

However the Dreams.

They in their wonder grotesque horror, and frightful majesty. (...same could be said of the recent "Trek" movies.) All this noise to direct our short battered lives. Blessed are they that have no memory of theirs.

Just emerged from a mist where it was made plain in the vagueness of that realm that no you ain't from here. Neither is your family. Not your line nor the lines of many others. 

Elsewhere, and Else-when.

I wonder if the "Twilight Zone" was not just an entertainment, but a message.

A "Cook Book".

"Not Just".   That, and all the other strange stories wonderings, and essays. These that the "different" keep writing, and putting before our eyes.


Pain for many days. Confusions. That, and my coming here to you. My family my friends all I have in the world. My digital "Hearth, and Home". If done right these platforms of meeting could be such a miracle. It is, but could be so much more. ...just needs a bit more heart, and introspection.

I'm not from here?

Well that would confirm certain oddities from early childhood. Hearing singing as I fell to sleep. Seeing the sky as different colors from what I was told it was. Remembering sight of the Earth from far above, and away. I saw, in dreams?, our cloud covered home as we see it now. I saw it as it really is before there was the evidence of science.

"I'm sorry,...what the fuck is going on?

Not from here.

...Some elsewhere else-when. Now my eyes hurt. Those that have issues know how pain is fluid. It likes to move. It is the ultimate tourist at home. I'm intermittently grateful. This for making me aware. For helping me endure life sharply, and perhaps more respectfully.

My nausea meds seem also intermittent.

Not too much information. I'm sharing the full Monty as pals should.  Soup. Hot soup, and a used DVD. Through the ages these have been known to calm the mad cure the lame, and halt, and just bleeping chill you the bleep out.

Be back soon.

(...About the title. I'm no Angel. No one is. Well not all the time. An Angel as I've found is an act. A verb not a noun. We become Angels of the moment by our works, and example. Pass the butter thanks I have to be careful now.)

Stay Tuned.

'Had another involved multi-phased dream,...why does the Eternal so bother people with these things. Trying to put coherence into it. I find when I just write it out as it happened no one get's it.
A punchline without a joke.

'Don't know how them Sufi mystics got by. I have that Brahms guy doing the Deutsches Requiem. ...good for my nerves...not as good as Medical Dope would be, but ya has to work with what ya have.

Working on writing up the dream. ...or trying.
Our dreams... are in infrared 3-D, but everyday life tends grey flat 2-D. Ya knows the drill....bring life to what you already know.
It's all scraps floating all over the damned place, and one keeps forgetting the good bits...yeah they float back, but leave again before ya can rightly record them.

...sorry be back when I sort it out.

Stay Tuned.
"...and all the Meth you can Eat"

Did you know that if you fell through the floor of a news-stand in China at roughly Chengdu. I mean fall all the way down that hole through the core then up the other side.

Did you know if you did all that you'd come busting up out of the floor of a meth lab in Kokomo Indiana. On the up side you didn't go busting out of the ocean say 10,000 feet down.

Still you'd have to deal with them hard ass Indiana Crack Heads.

Stay Tuned.

"Making a Commercial go of this!"

I'm sure a good copywriter could spin something attractive to people that think the universe is 5000 years old, and humanity was kicked out of Paradise by a talking snake.

Yeah not a problem.

I see it contexted with big trucks, and young gals with jugs that never stop...yep that and maybe inferences about crates of booze, and hints at meth.

Oh, and no Darkies Jews Queers or them folks that they think took their jobs, and or is secretly fucking their assorted wives daughters, and or sons..

...candy from babes.

We'd have them good 'ol boys lined up around the block for their turn at falling through the Earth. Taking selfies as they went, and popping out in the heart of a volcano.

We'd even tell them they're going to be crushed 'n burned up in the core, and if that don't fuck'em up enough they'll bust out at the bottom of the ocean in a volcano in the parking lot of Negro public housing that or busting up through the floor of an Isis head chopping training, and eyeball gouging camp.

None of these things will be a problem if they besides coughing up the $28,000. bucks for the ride also dig up an additional $12,000. This for the Magic Jebus Chrisp pedant that will protect them against all that scary core of the earth shredding burning, and crushing stuff. For a limited time only two Jebus pendants for $10,000 each.

All they'd have to do is sell their mobile home their truck their still their daughters, and turn over the head of their first born son...not a problem.

"Here ya goes Billie Bob...just sign here."