Saturday, April 30, 2016

"Book of Daze"





Here's a story of my early Queer life.

Back in 1970 I joined a Queer group called Gay Youth. It was the first on planet Earth organization for Queer teens. Wow how about that. I was only in for a short time as I was going away to college the next year, but it was a very full year.

All that becoming a man independence from family, and fun scary adventures like when I was in several gay bars, and clubs that were raided by both cops, and hoodlums. "...scary, and exciting."

These raids were "after" Stonewall btw. Raids continued for years after the riots.

The point is I had a special friend "X".  That's sweet like a character in an  love novel published anonymously by a nice lady in Vermont in the 1880's

Anyway he was younger just turned 15, and  I was just 18. I had just got my Draft Card...Google that. My beloved "X" was very sweet gentle, and thoughtful. Very sexy too. Just the sort to be devoured by a vicious world.

"X" is a happy memory.

Sure there was fucked up shit...his insane parents, and brother that wanted to kill him. Just like today when Queer teens are butchered by friends or family.

Other than the threat of murder everything was fine.

We were all under that threat then as now. However to the point. We were friends, and in a kind of love lust stoned madness. Yeah "X" was the first person I got high with. 

Oh btw he was very fem a sweet Sissy boy which is why he went through such hell, and why his own family wanted him dead or exorcised of demons...they were Catholics too so you can imagine.

My family didn't really take my Queerdom that seriously. I was fortunate as hell my folks were they way the were. Sure they were nuts insane beat us when we were little, and yelled too much, but so did all parents back then. 

All the Great Depression Jim Crow, and WW2 generation were angry, and generally nuts.

Despite this they were weirdly tolerant at the same time. Both of my folks being in show business for a while helped. My mom had a Queer roommate when she went to City College, and sang at clubs at night. Dad played big band piano so ran into queers every day.

All this to say Queers weren't space aliens to them. So when I turned up it wasn't that big a deal. My bringing "X" home was mostly okay...eh with the very very clear understanding that there would be no funny business in the house..or backyard or garage or basement or roof or back seat.

...or anywhere else my Mom could think of.

Anyway my sisters, and my folks liked "X", and felt protective of him when I told them about his home life. There's no big finish to this. I had a warm stoned slightly sexual relationship with him for a year. I eventually went away to school as to keep me out of Vietnam, and eventually into the middle class.

Neither of us wanted it to happen, but we did drift apart. Such is part of life. Two youngsters separated getting involved with new people new weird adventures...we separate, and move on.

To nurture, and protect.

The End I guess.

___________________________________________________


 Wadda guy that Rimbaud! As I ranted last June Arthur Rimbaud should have a float in the annual so-call "Gai Parade". Ha! Parade my sore and tired butt.

In fact it's a "Queer Liberation, and We Survived March!"

Yeah I'm no fan of all that "Assimulationist" static. Never mind. Point is there ought to be an Arthur Rimbaud Float in that silly jamboree.  

Yep that "parade" so-called is sneaking up on us, and will be in our pants before ya knows it.

So this time lets honor some real 'Queers' as opposed to them dreary "Stroller Pushers" that have grabbed all the honors. 

Bleep'em. 

I can see it now. Hoards of Old Queer Poets Pervert trouble makers, and sun bronzed Gay Boy Scouts reciting, and singing the works of our Hero Rimbaud!

All the while in honor of our Hero they'd be drinking wine snorting coke, and sipping absinthe. Just good clean fun for the whole liberated family.

...make mine a double! 


___________________________________________________________


 

"Mother Nature’s Sons"

I could never understand why the sight of boys kissing puts fright into so many. I remember the first time I saw two teen lads kissing. I was 16, and wandering around Central Park.

There was a gleefully confused Anti-War gathering/Be-In going on. Mind you I wasn't a full fledged Hippie at the time. I couldn't afford the costumes, drugs, communes or upper middle class background that supported all that. 

Class resentments aside.

I drifted onto the Sheep Meadow, and saw several high school boys laying on the grass kissing. I tried to be hip, and pretend this was no big deal. After all this was 1966!

Gimme a break! That sort of thing can 'still' get you bashed or worse. Still the sight of it made my heart flutter. There they were peacefully embracing in Manhattan's green oasis. 

In the shadow of urban mayhem Mother Nature's embarrassing step children were at play in the fields of the Lord.

My passionate desire was to be able to do the same with my high school heart throb,..."X".  

Nice that, "X", sort of what a sweet 19th century Vermont lady would call a lover in the novel she was secretly writing.

Btw I once wrote an "R" rated story about that fumbling, and intermittent affair. One day before I kick the bucket I mean to make a little video about it.  I plan to use dolls, and puppets. 

Anyhow seeing happy perverts going at it is where so much of the murderous rage of the bashers, and haters comes from. 

The sight or even the thought that this is going on fills them with killing rage, and for some secret desire. Life love desire hate rage quite a stew.

I think this is at the core of what makes bullies drive Queer youngsters to their deaths This is the engine that drives the wicked, and cruel to do their evil work.

Just the thought of such a simple tender scene drives these wounded angry souls to madness.


Fear is the true root of all evils.

____________________________________________________



"Bless Love!!"



I was on the subway a few months back. The No.4 headed downtown late in the afternoon. Classes were out, and normally I can’t stand that time of day.

The youngsters makes so much damned noise. That, and some kids from the hell schools might stab or shoot you.

But I loves New York,…kind’a.

However this trip was different. Every now’n then one sees young Queers. Sign of the times I guess. So many are out much younger than we were.

I guess with the flood of cyber information that they swim in tells them they’re not alone. A blessing we old timers never had.

As a boy I remember going to the library to read an uncensored dictionary. 

There it was,…the “H" word.  

With that my loneliness lifted a centimeter or so off my soul. Queer kids today know from the start that there’s this whole Queer World all around them. Yes there are still great dangers, but at least they know they ain't alone.

I can never know what that feels like. To always know from the beginning you’re not the only one.
Sorry I’m digressing all over the place We’ll skip the sociology, and get to the point.

While I was on that downtown train I saw these two Queer school boys that were clearly in some variation of teen love lust madness for each other.

I t was good to see. Very ‘Good to see.

These were just standard issue youngsters like we were. Ordinary wonderful souls. Like I sez it was just nice to see. Oh it’s so good to see love.

I remember seeing a Lesbian couple that was so clearly in absolutely in the depths of love for each other. I was moved to tell them how swell they looked together.

No they didn’t pull out matching pearl handled 45.automatics, and fire at me till I was a greasy spot,..at least that time.

Naw they was just all smiley faces, and lovey dovey.

So in honor of blind love, lust, and that great soup of un-nameable emotions that comes with it.

"I say Bless Love, and the Big Mess it Always Makes!"

(...feel free to use the above statement on t-shirts.) 

_______________________________________________________________


"Hot Chrome II"



I've been thinking. What if children are right. What if we 'can' be anything we want. What if our rigid notions of reality are not what it seems to be.

My g-d what if we 'can' be anything we imagine!"

I have an idea for a subversive kid's book. I t would revolve around being, and becoming. What would you be...I mean really. The mind boggles.

Me well damn,...perhaps I'd be a 1958 Buick Land cruiser with extra chrome, and one of them insane overblown V-8 gas guzzlers under my hood!

I'd be flying down Route 66 at 120 mph! This on a fine summer's day in 1959 when gas was cheap, and the whole world could kiss our ass! 

We had a zillion H-Bombs, and scads of brand new shiny B-52's to shove them up anybody's butt that gave us a hard time! The world was ours, and we was holding on with both hands!

Fuck'em if they can't take a joke!

Anyways as I say I'm flaming through the American wasteland burning gas, and shooting co2 out'a my tail...man this is living. 

"Little Richard" is blasting out my custom Hi-Fi speakers, and I'm being driven by a couple of Queer teenaged Mexican high school dropouts!  These deranged horny sweethearts have just stolen me from a racist part time IRS clerk, and Klansman.

My new owners my hero's are laughing their heads off smoking dope breaking laws, and living the life.  These Tex/Mex mulatto teen Queers is wearing black motorcycle boots dirty white t-shirts with a pack of Camels rolled up in the sleeve.

The wind is singing through their slicked ducktails, and they're flicking butt's out of my windows. The kids is laffing their heads off about that Kluxer they left behind. The chuckle head they "borrowed" me from.

Yeah they did some rough trade bondage with'em.  

The damned Kluxer painted himself in blackface begged for, and got some hogtied grease-less back door action from his teen Masters. ...while they're wearing Klan hoods.

...hey it takes all kinds.

What he didn't bargain for though was being carried out to the lawn, and tied to a tree.

Yep nekkid  hogtied in black face robbed, and his secret stash of big titty black porn spread all around him for his wife minister, and Kluxer pals to find. He will not have a nice day.

A rough kind of justice that.

Me, and my new "owners" are on our way to Vegas to cut a "Do-Wop" 45, and generally raise holy bleeping Hell in the U.S. occupied Mexican northern states of Nevada New Mexico, and Arizona!

Well okay this story might be a tough sell to that stuck up tight assed kid's book market,...fuck'em. I'm giving the kiddies what they really want. Mad dreams fantasies, and good kleen sticky fun.

You get's my point though right.

This is radical stuff, and just what them kids need to live in this blood splattered madhouse of a world. We can be anything we can become unstuck from reality. Dammit we can dream, and make our own damned reality!

What can be more liberating, and dangerous than that?!

Hell come to think of it this book would really be for the parents since kids know all this stuff already.

Stay tuned. 

_____________________________________________


 

"Sissy Meditation II"


Sissies Queers Faggots gave the world Color Magic, and Liberated Loving! I hear "straight gays" say, "...We're Just Like You!" "We're just like everybody else."

NO! 

We are Not!

Never were never will be. We're Different..'Very' Different!

Imagine being on Fire!

On Fire!

BURNING BURNING BURNING, and Not being Consumed!

We're reborn from second to second.

Every cell every atom!

We wear a skin of Flame!

Our eyes are glowing coals of Jade, and Gold.

Our words are lightning, and our Dreams ignite Stars!

...no we are 'not' like everyone else.

The act of creation is continuous. Walt Whitman shared his Dreams his Nightmares his Confusions his Joys as a 40 year long poem! This is what his "Leaves of Grass" was, and is.

A Life Statement a Life as a Celebration!

One long prayer to Forever.

The living bits of our joined creations filtered through pen paper brush canvas keyboard screen sky camera studio, and mic this is the collective voice of our Souls.

We say to Eternity We are Here We Dream We Create We Matter.

 This is who We Are.

This is How We Live.

We Burn.

We are the Fire that can 'Never' be put out.
______________________________________________ 


"No Really,...I Want to Have Babies"



I want to have babies. Okay let me explain. I want to have babies. I'm real good at taking care of them, and all the crying, and nappies full of yellow crap never bothered me,..who knows why. Well actually I know.

In another life it's likely I was a mommy with a bleeping huge brood of yammering crapping kiddies hanging on to my apron. Anyway that's what I think. It's one of them spiritual things.

I'm just good with kids..probably genetic.  I was swell raising my two sisters kiddies, and they've since grown up to make scads more dough than me so I guess I did a reasonable job.

I love all the chaos, and wonder of them little guys running around nearly getting themselves killed. However they didn't because I had good kiddie radar, and was always at the right place, and right time to keep them safe, and noisy.

No I never did that "Sesame Street" condescending crap. 

Gimme a break. Naw it was a steady diet of the 1940's, and 50's Warner Brothers Acme cartoons for them. Good enuff for me good enuff for them! Ah how we thrilled to "Wile E. Coyote" get smashed to jelly again, and again. If that ain't ain't a great lesson on how the world really works I don't know what is

Well that, and them Acme products that explode slice dice, and generally create handy, and useful deranged mayhem as needed.

All that, and the swell feeling of love, and assorted un-namable emotions ya gets as the little maniacs are asleep in your weary arms.

So yeah Queer pervert Commie pornographer layabout that I am give me your kiddies, and I'll do them right. Btw I'm real swell at story telling, and lullaby's.

Btw I also would really love to be a Queer Scout Den Mother. I'd be especially good at that. I'd teach the dear little Fags all the Queer survival lessons I've learned in a near century of surviving in this demented hell hole. 

_______________________________________________________________




Wot...wot are you saying Uncle Syd!!!!

You tell'n kids to do hard drugs eat masses of candy red meat, and overthrow da Gubbermint?!!!

...Eh, well,

I exaggerated. ...yeah,

Sort of like when "Bones" heard "Mr. Spock" lie.

it when....

"Spock!! ...you lied."

To which Spock said...

 "Not at all...I exaggerated."

Ha!
Yup!! Take it from ya old Ukie Syd. Eat'n dead animals is good, and good for ya. Why just the other night I ate me up a giant ass rack of juicy ribs! Well yeah sure I was sick as hell after, but every pleasure has it's price.

Sort of like when I thought that doing up them 12 grams of Cocaine at one go was a swell idea.

Hey how was I to know that was fatal?

Aw man though like them swell ribs it was great going down,...till the part where I was freaking out, and dying.

So boy'n girls if ya willing to pay the price eat meat, and do vast quantities of hard drugs. I did, and by sheer stupid dumb luck survived!

...and went back for seconds.

(The above is a cautionary tale please don't eat meat or do hard drugs. Esp. 'not' at the same time. Wow that was an event!) 
 
Stay Tuned. 

"EAT CANDY!!"


Yes boys never mind all that oral hygiene crap. That's for Communists, and the French! Candy's where's it at! It's a proven stepping stone to glue sniffing, and Heroin!

Be like ya ol' Uncle Syd eat all the damned candy you can get your sugar over dosed shaky paws on!  To hell with your medication! To Hell with teeth...who needs'em!

If it's got more than 90% sugar in it CHOW DOWN!!!

Remember what your Unkie Syd always tells good little boys.

"Look ya little rug rat life's short harsh brutish, and vile!"

"So get as many goodies into ya while ya can!"

"Ya won't be sorry!"

...much. 


Stay Tuned.

"I Always wanted to be an Alcoholic"




Like I say up there I always wanted to be a boozer. Heck the stuff is cheap legal, and all over the place. Beats that drug fiend crap I was up to by a skid row mile.

This delirium would make life so bleeping simple. However I've seen too much grim wreckage in that room to enter. I'm allergic to it as well. So I have a built in prohibition amendment in my bleeping guts.

Swell,...thank you gawd.

Speaking of multiple personalities, and who of us ain't got a few of them running around loose. I don't actually know how many Sydney's there are. Oh that's okay since all, but one of them is gleeful, and harmless. 

Well, mostly harmless.

See when I'm at home I'm not 'exactly' the fun loving though sometimes demented, and gruff Uncle Sydney some of you folks hears on the radio. Different still from the Uncle that writes all this crap you're read'n now. 

Different yet again from the Sydney that wanders the streets weeping or  staring blankly. Certainly different from the Queer Revolutionary Maniac that publishes raging broadsides about how Sissy boys should form self defense automatic rifle brigades or insane gleeful Boy Porn blogs that keep getting nuked!

You get's my drift here.

We're many people depending on circumstance the phases of the moon if we're near ley lines or found a fucking bug in our food.

So ya see when I'm at home I'm just ol' Syd regular guy from across the street, and up the block. Not unlike Mickey Mouse. When "Mickey" or actually Lester W. Estrella. When Les is at home in Queens he's just like the rest of the sweaty mob of us.

He just sit'n there on his couch with his feet up on the coffee table wearing the old slippers J.Edgar Hoover gave him at that Queer Christmas pool party at the White House in 1947.

Yeah our pal "Mickey" aka Les is home burp'n fart'n while reading the Sunday Times Book Review section. The ball game's on in the background, and he's got a slice of Sara Lee cheese cake stuffed in his mouth. 

Yep we're all pretty much the same within a bell curve of personality disorders. Take Otto for instance. "Otto" is my Demon self. He my evil twin. He's the only separate personality of mine that out of necessity I gave a name to.

If I ever end up in the shower stalls of Folsom or Attica making new, and sudden friends it'll be Otto's fault. Otto's the guy that threw that fridge at that butt hole 30 years ago. 

Well okay it was one'a them little office ice box thing's, but still. 

He's also the guy who thought doing up eight grams of blow in one night was a good idea,...thanks a lot. I made new friends in the emergency room behind that. 

Back in the day when I was working at that radio station when my friends would see me nasty slobbering reeking, and not in a nice way. They would exclaim...and they really did..."Otto you fiend what have you done with our sweet lovable Uncle Sydney!!" 

"Return him at once!"

Yeah I know that you can't tell where the fantasies, and stories end, and the real life stuff comes in, but trust me. Ask any of my pals about Otto. They'll tell you.

Anyway as long as I take my meds Otto hasn't been around,...knock on liver.

Stay Tuned.

"Meat on Friday"



Millions of Roman Catholics, and their attorneys were somewhat taken a-back as news of the demise of the Supreme Being was releases by both NASA,and the Chinese Space Agencies. Floating in orbit about Mars the remains of what many believe to be the "Big Guy" is to be retrieved for examination. 

What he was doing out there, and how He was done in is a matter of sweaty speculation. Satanist are being interview by Official bodies for leads in the investigation.

Calculations estimate that although this entity is thought to be you know who he's actually rather petite. Measuring in height no more than four foot eleven. That, and apparently wearing female makeup. News that the Lord of Hosts is not only dead,...and short, but a suspected transvestite, and possibly Homosexual has commentators abuzz with speculation.  

Besides the Lord of Lords floating in Mars orbit the Hubble Telescope also found what seems to be the mortal remains of Godzilla, King Kong, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Snow White.

The reality of these characters thought till now to be works of fiction have thrown a rather large subjective monkey wrench into what philosophers had thought was reality. 

We should expect a number of sweaty confused, and incoherent press conferences, and documentaries by theologians comic book artists politicians science fiction writers, and assorted nuts with guns, and whiskey.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


A follow up on our 'Bulletin' above!  With the passing of the Lord of Hosts in the orbit of Mars a general call has been put out by a Synod of all the major, and wack job religions of the world.

A casting call to the multitudes for the job of Supreme Being.  

On the retrieval, and careful examination of the previous Gawd it was found the he was just some guy. No holy whizbangs whatever.

He apparently was Hatfield Broadjump a former plumper for the Kansas City Department of Mental Hygene. He went missing on his lunch break in 1932, and it seems had been Gawd ever since.

Btw his death along with the deaths of the others found in Mars orbit remains a mystery.

Seems a contract was found in the back pocket of his liquid metal robes detailing the job, and how it's gained, and passed on. According to this document this has been going on forever. Our Gawds are just regular folks chosen at random to care take this end of creation.

Apparently there are other Gawds all over the universe doing the same thing for their patch. As for if there's a Boss of Bosses somewhere we don't know. Which sort of puts us right back where we started in this whole religion gawd thing.

Anyway once the sucker is chosen, and the contract signed,...eh with just a pen. None of that signed in blood stuff for this gig. All that noise is set aside for the 'other' position. Ahem.

Once the mark is signed sealed, and delivered he gets all the powers, and hard times all gawds have to put up with. As the contract sez, "...Chose Carefully.

"Spirit Noise"

"...and then"


I do not know what comes next. I like many have a feeling about it. A sort'a kind of thing. A maybe perhaps thing. However we should think of our here, and now as paradise. Our lives today as our heaven.

What we do day to day as our Angelic acts for each other. 

Anything that may come after this would just be a continuance. A refinement of who we really are to others, and ourselves.

________________________________________________



On a warm heavy night long ago when I was a boy.

I was unable to sleep

There was a storm coming

I felt it rumble in my chest


The curtains heaved

The first pelts

The ceiling flashed

The sky ignited


I got up

I undressed

'crept downstairs past my sleeping parents

'went out into the yard


Oh the wind!

The rain!

I had never felt nature as this

It covered me

All of me!


Arcing light from horizon to horizon!


I stood by my mother's roses

silhouetted by fire 


I 'was' the wind 

the rain 

the light 

I was washed clean

I was re-born

Re-born, and Baptized by Lightning! 

_____________________________________________ 


 "Mercy always Mercy."

Be Merciful always. The more they don't deserve Mercy the more they should have it!

I used to say that all the time back in my radio preacher days. At the time I didn't know that's what I was, but ya know. Yeah I was a preacher of sorts back in the day. Who'd a thunk it. Always did have the calling or the shine all that holy mo-Jo.

I just wasn't too keen on any religions is all. Also should'a paid attention to some of my own sermons back then.

Another thing I used to say.

"Give till it hurts."

Not till it feels good that's just ego, but till it actually hurts. Give till it's inconvenient. Sure giving anything at all these days is to the good. However it gets all mixed up with our complicated ego noise.

Most Americans live from check to check. So give till you have to put off something you want. Like going to see that "Superman Bat-Guy" mess.

One should give so that you notice you gave. Make yourself closer to the truly, and gravely poor. This so that you'll better understand the meaning of compassion for others, and yourself. Well that or personal variations of it.

"Also Holiness." 

Sounds swell, but what is it? How is it done?

Holiness I think is the ability to see the Divine....ya hear that? 

To be able to see the 'for real' Divine or Eternal in the insufferable total bleep head annoying loud Jerk standing next to you on a seriously crowded subway train that's stalled between stations with a busted air conditioner in an August heat wave.


This is one of the hardest things to do even part time. 

Try doing this continually, and there's a padded apartment waiting for you at Bellevue.

But!

Apparently it is possible to do...sometimes.

Sometimes, and each time for a little..a very little longer.

I think that's all the g-ds or Eternity really asks of us. Just to try to transcend ourselves a little...then a little more.

Try keeping the above in the back of your mind. In time it may come to the front. Who knows what'll happen then.

__________________________________________




All the world prays.

Whenever where-ever for whatever. 

The prayers ascend through clouds past worlds even stars.

Till they fall. 

They fall onto an abandoned side street.

There's an old phone booth there.

Slightly bent over from where a truck backed into it.

The phone is ringing.

These are prayers.

The rings.

Millions of them. ...Billions.

Ringing. 

Unanswered. 

Forever.

Amen.

------------------------------------------------------------------






We're an interesting species. We can dream Heaven, and Hell then bring either or both into physical existence.

What's that if not a kind of Magic.

We can live, not just live, but prosper in everything from sub-zero to 120f degree climates. We're a hardy, and persistent bunch.  Just like the  dinosaurs before us.

Climate Change?

Desertification shrinking glaciers famines wars over fresh water pole shift ocean rise. You kidding this is nuthin' total bullshit.

The multiverse ain't getting rid of us that easy.

Bleep that. 

Get used to us we're here for the long term.

The 'real' long term. 

Amen. 
_________________________________________________

"Our Lives"



I'm certain that in other lives I was a warrior. That, and a mother many times. Many lives with great broods of loud wild wonderful children. I think this is my first life in a big city. I have this feeling about wilderness, and sometimes farms. 

My family had a dairy farm down south long ago. If things were just slightly different I'd have been down there running the place with my brother. Though my brother is gone now. So I suppose I'd be about ready to hand it over to either his or my sons. 

We are so many people so many realities so many lives that are faintly remembered...like dreams on waking. We wake, and a whole life is on the tip of our souls,...then gone.


Stay Tuned.


"Listen to the Silence"


They say you either have faith or you don't. Well I have both...do both. My kind of faith is like a radio receiver that picks up signals that whip in, and out as my life goes along.

Sort of like when you're on the interstate, and all those local stations fade away only to suddenly come back sharp, and loud with different call letters, and another underpaid announcer.

Anyhow that's how I believe.

There's times when my phone is backed up with messages from Paradise prefixed ,"...Urgent!!" Then there's months, years even decades of silence.

It's the "Silence" that interests me because I think Gawd or at least some faction of upper management is really trying to get though.

I meditate on G-d's silence.

I drift, and swim through it. It's the non-static of the multiverse. Before digital TV you could tune to an unused channel, and hear the long ago birth sounds of creation. Songs so full of high'n low trills, distant thunders, and whispers.

Now there's silence. The silence of now. The calm quiet of both the Creator, and Creation thinking things over, and wondering what to do next.

Stay Tuned. 

________________________________________________



"Majik



Enough despair, enough war, and stupidity, and grief. How to break through to the majik. The bright wonderful strange worlds that exist side by side with ours. The visions we have of the "other side" are all confused, and jazzed up with with religion, booze, dope, lust, boredom, and rage. It's there though. Sometimes the visions, the dreams are crystal clear.

There are these moments we see, and there is no doubt, no bullshit, the cool stuff is real Real!

Everyday can be beautiful, everyday is a trip to Coney Island, the nicer parts of Paris, Grandma's house, your girlhood/boyhood dream of your best friend's bed when the parents are away, puppies, kittens, bunny rabbits, fields of flowers, free cable, free tuition, getting your book published, and no tax's for life!

Not only Freedom, but Happiness is Possible!

______________________________________________________________



"Floating"





It's good for a church to have an open roof. Makes it easier for the Angels to get in. When I was little I thought that when Mass was on the church would lift up to into the sky, and float in Heaven during Communion.

I really believed this. When the organ really went to town, and the choir was going nuts. I believed I could feel the actual building heaving up into the sky...perhaps carried by Angels.

At the time I also believed that I could fly. As I've mentioned here. I thought I could perch on my window sill leap, and fly. Fly to the tree outside of my bedroom.  Leap to it then make a right angle turn to the next tree over.

As the sun rises in the morning I was convinced I had the power. Faith is a serious thing.

Btw I bet I could'a flown

I'll bet kids fly, and perform all manner of Miracles all the time, but mostly don't tell us because they know we've stopped believing in the Wonderful.


Stay Tuned. 

_________________________________________________ 



"...Didn't See It"



Actually Angels..at least in my experience. Them Angel folks don't look anything like junior up there. Okay now, and then a few, but mostly no. Thing is if they take human shape at all...which they usually don't. If they morph into one of us it's usually some slob you wouldn't notice.

Just another character stumbling by is what they like to be. Take for example the time one of them yanked me from the path of a fucking big midtown bus that I somehow managed not to notice coming dead at me.

First of all how the hell did that happen.

Ya figure a guy would notice a zillion tons of speeding steel coming at'em. 'But somehow I didn't. Sort of like the French Aristocracy, and hopefully the current One Percent I didn't see the shit coming.

Anyway the Holy Bastard yanks me  back by the collar'n yells, "...Look out ya Jerk!", and saves my useless, and generally uncomfortable life. Before I knows what's happening he going down the street mumbling "...fuck'n moron", and vanishes into a crowd of the sweaty uninsured, and over taxed.

Shit like this happens to me all the time.

Ya know sometimes we all get to be Angels or whatever. I saved a kid from going over a railing into the river once. What can I say right place right time. I'm sure you've had this sort of thing happen too.

So as they said at the end of that neat series on Fox years ago. "Millennium". Look it up, and get the second season's boxed set...forget the others...just the Second Season. Okay.

Anyhow it ends with the hero "Frank Black" saying...

"WE'RE ALL SHEPARDS"

...Get it?

We all look out for each other.

That or we're all unpaid off the books Angels. ....Well gang that's tonight's moral. I'm wasted so I'm going to lay down for a while. Be back later.

Stay Tuned.

__________________________________________



"G-D Prayer"



I originally began this rant years ago. I add or subtract from it as the spirit moves me. I usually read it around Easter on my radio program tho' truthfully have done that in a few years.


I'll pick it again in'14. 2014 the Centennial of the "Great War". The beginning of the Second Hundred Years War. I'll post more about that soon. For now here's my G-d prayer as it is now.

G-d is....

in prison,

is on welfare,

is unemployable,

was Queer bashed,

was lynched,

was ethnically cleansed,

has cancer,

has AIDS,

has dementia,

has stopped taking the medication,

was raped,

is a battered wife,

was aborted,

is a runaway teen,

has no insurance,

was downsized,

is AWOL,

is homeless,

was profiled at the airport,

is stuck in traffic,

is too old,

is too young,

is too smart for his own good,

is too goddamned dumb,

can't get laid,

got VD,

has poor self image,

is afraid,

is lonely,

hears voices,

has lost his faith,

is fat,

has acne,

can't get a green card,

can't vote,

dreams don't come true,

committed suicide,

family hates him,

is on death row,

is guilty,

was framed,

got 20 to life,

is a drunk,

is a junkie,

is in a bad relationship,

flunked out,

can't get credit,

can't get a job,

can't get published,

can't get tenure,

However G-d is not Angry.

There is no possibility of anger.

None at all. 

None. 

________________________________________________



"Seven Billion G-ds"


We're a species that seems to need a g-d or gawds. Our consciousness makes us barely aware that there's more to reality than what we can see or touch. So we created gawds, and religions to fill that void. Some are kindly some brutal, but they all express the same yearning to know what's beyond our physical senses.






As with gender, modes of desire. There are seven billion of them. One for each person. So too there are seven billion faiths, paths to the country yet discovered.


The problem is that society only acknowledges two genders, and maybe a dozen or so religions.

Do the math.

No wonder we're all so nuts. Anyway I had another of them Angel dreams a few nights ago. This in the middle of all my other static, and confusions. I can only remember bits, and pieces, but it was basically this.

Pray for...

The Forgotten,

The Remembered,

The Saved,

The Lost,

The Good,

The Evil,

The Cruel,

The Kind,

The Dead,

The Living,

The Tormented,

The Torturers,

The Born,

The Unborn,

The Givers,

The Takers,

The Light Makers,

The Dark Bringers,

The Dreamers,

The Deniers,

The Loving,

The Hating,

The Full,

The Starving,

The Demons,

The Angels,

Pray for the Creatures,

The Flying,

The Crawling,

The Swimming,

The Walking,

The seeds,

The Blossoms,

The Fruit,

The Worlds,

The Stars,

The Seen,

The Unseen,

The Momentary,

The Eternal,

The dream invited me,..and I imagine you to "Pray" for all of the above, and more. As for who or what I'm supposed to pray to wasn't revealed. So they best I can do is to meditate, to acknowledge, wonder about, upon all the above.

Stay Tuned.

_______________________________________________________________












"The Shape of Things to Come"


Look most of the stuff against Hillary is the contrived bullshit the far right has been slinging on her for decades. She's done no worse than every other politician out there...actually less. Yeah she takes big money from the who's who of enemies of the people...but who don't. 

Besides Bernie, and we see where that got him. The fix was in from day one. That's politics. That's really all I'm saying. 

It's just politics. 

No outsider is ever getting anywhere till there's an actual revolution...and that ain't happening in the lifetimes of anyone alive now. Bernie's revolution will fade away like Occupy did, and soon be the butt of jokes then forgotten. 

There will be very slow reforms. 

Just enough to keep the mob home eating pizza, and playing computer games, and getting stoned, and drunk. Just enough to make it look like the middle class is sort of getting a break...but not really. 

Maybe one or two big things like student debt reduction or even forgiveness. That, and perhaps some infrastructure repairs, and public works to spread some jobs around for a few years,...then end. 

Yeah that may happen..or not. 

However it's business as usual till it gets so bad there's a violent insurgency. This because of poisoned water tables poor harvests from climate change failed medical infrastructure local grossly corrupt ineffective authorities, and basic abandonment by the central government.

This country becomes a western version of Iraq via asymmetrical warfare. The rich elites, and their armies against assorted crazed right, and left militias of the dispossessed, and non-aligned violent maniacs that'll kill anything moving like in Syria. 

This is what the rest of the 21st, and early 22nd century will likely be in this country. 

Have a nice day.


Stay tuned. 




"...And Another Thing!"


I am not prepared to wait, again, and again, and again, and again. I started this wait when I was in the old anti-war movement as a teen in the 1960's.

I'm damned near 66.

Now I'm supposed to wait till 2020?!!

Bleep that.

Clearly we are getting this thing horribly wrong. Think about that. As for me I'm long finished with this nonsense. You can go ahead, and play their games for the next few centuries if ya like.

Me I'm going back to bed.

 __________________________________________________________________


"After the Revolution"


There should be trials one day. For destroying what was once the largest Middle-Class in the world by shipping jobs overseas. Still others for starting unnecessary wars. Allowing toxic wastes to poison the water tables of whole States. For deliberately maintaining systems of discrimination, and economic inequality.

On, and on...

The crimes are many the criminals are many. The temptation to just hang or shoot them is great. However spilling blood just keeps the same deadly game going. 

So some form of the "Truth, and Reconciliation" model must be used. Let all the truth out. Have them that caused war torture stole the futures of whole generations face their victims, and explain how, and why they did it. 

Most will never repent, but on international media they would have confessed all they did. After this, and an entertaining "Perp Walk" they will be released given their pensions, and sent home to live out their lives as known civil, and war criminals.


Stay Tuned. 




Yeah tell me something I don't know. I was speaking to a comrade on the phone...I don't get out much. Anyway we was yacking away about the end of the world, and all. When we realized what we was doing.

Yacking about the end of the damned world...again.

That's all older folks seem to talk about. The youngsters only talk about whose fucking who where's the party at, and who can get us some good drugs.

We talk about the end because we remember when things were a zillion times better, and the kids haven't a clue, and don't care. Fine fuck'em. They, and their babies will drown starve or get beheaded in the coming "Chaos" anyway.

We if we're lucky we'll just miss it.

I'd say the 2030's onward will be a very bad time not to be in a high ground secure community of armed fortified well stocked bunkers, and tunnels.

Till then us old timers will talk about the good old days of cheap gas bar-b-ques cars with big ass fins on 'em free love moon landings be-in's, and integration. Them damned useless kids have no idea what they missed by not being around, and young at the height of the Empire.

Hey we commie beatnik perverts gave at the office. We fought all our crappy lives to try to make this a good, and cool world, but the damned thing blew up in our faces...so fuck it. 

The only reason I might want to be around a little longer is to see how these brain dead millennials deal with the shit-storm that's gonna hit them full bore in a few years.

You must have read the bit in the NY Times how all the shit we thought was 100 years away is only a few years off instead. Ha! Like when I read in the late 1990's that the East River would be at the front steps of my work place on Wall Street in 100 years.

It was 12 years.

"Sandy" ring a bell.  More than the river at the front steps...try second floor! Yeah looks like the party is starting sooner than expected...aw well.

Well back to my "Dr. Who" Blu-rays, and frozen cheese cake. This shit ain't our problem anymore. That's what me, and my pal on the phone came to. 

We deluded beatnik hippie progressives or whatever did our bit. 

We did our fucking ass bit into our old bleeping age.

They ignored us made us a joke put us in prison shot us, and co-opted our ideas to make really bad movies weird hats, and awful music. Fine...drown, and starve. However never forget...we warned you.

"We told You So!"

I just wanna hang around long enuff to say that to the jerks...then drop dead. Leaving them to survive the Tribulation...which they could have avoided.


Stay tuned.

 I guess we've all felt this way for years. It just I'm such a sucker for hope. 'Comes from when I grew up I guess.

Hope actually meant something back then. It wasn't just a catch word for shaking down votes from the sweaty rubes.

The "Big Shit" is upon us, and we know it. Planetary Climate Change is the biggest issue facing humanity, and we pretend it's not. For the very short term we can still get away with that. ...at least in the west.

Later it's gonna be Hell on Burning Skates.

When the trucks stop delivering food to the markets, and mall food courts when the power is rationed...as it is already in some countries when you need an internal passport just to go to another city when the water tap in your kitchen is either dry or gushing sludge...the folks will come out of their comas.

The Earth will abide.

So in fact will some portion of our species. However under profoundly different circumstances. Like I said before...save what you can of our time save the best. The future will find it one day, and will need it.



  1. We've got what we've got.

    I would have actual Hope if we were actually doing something other than just figuring out how to make money out of coastal cities around the world slowly being drowned by the rising oceans.

    Btw some companies, and think tanks are doing just that.

    I never ranted exactly about it, but Sandy, and Katrina left quiet scars on us. It told us the shit was coming. 'But instead of preparing we're in mass denial.

    We fighting tooth, and nail over who can use the shit house. That instead of planning new ways of growing crops, and building infrastructure to deal with a new Biblical flood.

    The building I once worked at in lower Manhattan was 20 feet...you hear that!!!! "20 Feet!!!" under water during Sandy.

    The traffic lights, and street lamps were underwater.

    The trees, and plants in the park outside the building later died from the salt. The City quickly replaced everything...new soil new trees, and decorative plants

    You'd never know it ever happened.

    Which is how the system wants it to be. Forget eat fuck get high work fight over shit houses vote for the system's choices.

    Everything is fine, and shut up.