I have some very disturbing drama going on just now. I didn't create it, and I might not be able to do anything about it, but I will be busy with it for a little while. Patience, please. Kind thoughts or prayers are always welcome.
There are some bad people in this world.
MINUTES LATER: A phone call seems to have resolved the situation. I am still somewhat emotionally wracked. Good time to practice the ukulele rather than wondering what it all means. There are still some bad people in the world.
Mr. Beer N. Hockey wants to go out with a drink in each hand. I'm ready to die clutching my ukulele, playing "Class War". It might be the only weapon I'll have left.
It might be true that I have "ceased fighting anything or anybody", but they haven't ceased fighting us.
"That the earth was not made purposely for you, to be Lords of it, and we to be your Slaves, Servants, and Beggers; but it was made to be a common Livelihood to all, without respect of persons: And that your buying and selling of Land, and the Fruits of it, one to another, is The cursed thing, and was brought in by War; which hath, and still does establish murder, and theft, In the hands of some branches of Mankinde over others, which is the greatest outward burden, and unrighteous power, that the Creation groans under..."
Hat tip to Valerie from Refugi 307. I'm somewhat cranky about this whole money thing. Maybe it's because I've always been a socialist and now the billionaires have jumped on my bandwagon. Bastards.
I had a phone conversation with the great Frankie. I'm looking forward to meeting him soon. He seemed a little surprised that I am as old as I am. I have to remind him that I am two years younger than Joe Strummer and Joey Ramone would have been. I am seven years younger than Patti Smith and two years older than John (Rotten) Lydon. I guess there were several things about my age that surprised him. First, my dentures kept falling out. Second my Depends sprung a leak causing an ugly stain on my Sansabelt polyester slacks which almost dripped onto my hush puppies. Or maybe it was the way I kept marveling at the fact that my phone works pretty good, even though it does not have a cord. Hell, I don't know, maybe it was because I couldn't stop talking about what a rebel John McCain is. What a fuckin' wild man that guy is.
Let me assure you Frank, a new set of incontinence pants, a double dose of denture glue and a couple of cans of "Just For Men" and I clean up real good. Let's talk again soon.
"Just because I am handsome enough to be a model, don't go thinkin' that I'm some kinda homo."
It's Sunday. I don't need to be at work. I don't need to be anywhere. So, I'm in bed, listening to music, surfing the internet and paging through the Cabela's catalog. Cabela's loves me. They send me about three huge catalogs a week. I don't hunt, I don't fish, but I do dress like my mom picks out my clothes. So there they are, page after page of stiff looking men wearing stiff looking ill fitting clothes. The idea is that this will appeal to rural white men, who can then safely hand the catalog to the wife and say, "Hell honey, I don't care. Just pick some stuff outta this here."
I am constantly scanning the Cabela's catalog in hopes of finding something wearable that fits the uniform policy at work: "No dungaree type pants." When was the last time you heard the word dungarees? Well, Cabela's and the large orange bridge still talk about dungarees. I think it's quaint.
I wish there was some kind of slightly cool version of the Cabela's catalog: just as corny but not quite so fuckin' stiff. I am, after all, a rural white man, although I never let my ex pick out my clothes. In fact even cornier would be cool. The worst part of the Cabela's catalog is when they try and be hip. Nasty. Finally, I gave up on Cabela's and went back to the computer, where I discovered the soundtrack for the slightly cool Cabela's catalog, Big Rock Candy Mountain. Good shit. Pretty corny, not fuckin' stiff.
"Liquor Store" is the theme song for a period of my life in the midwest. My favorite line is the one about pawning the tools for an extra twenty bucks. I used to own a genuinely deadly assault rifle, a Ruger Mini 14. I had it "just in case" . I mean what if some kind of truly bad shit were to go down? However, when I ran out of beer and cigarettes the weekend before payday, I never hesitated to run it down to the pawn shop and take out a loan on a case of Blatz and a carton of Camels. The bad shit would have to wait till after payday.
"These behaviors are not maladaptive. They help me get through the day."- Dr Dean Ornish on self destructive behavior
Adam Kimmel presents: Claremont HD from adam kimmel on Vimeo. I have been thinking about the book "Detroit: I Do Mind Dying". It's the history of The League of Revolutionary Black Workers. The League was a militant Black community based alternative to the United Auto Worker's Union. League leaders were regular guys off the assembly line. They were working 54 hours a week, "dancing with the devil in hell". They were popular with young Black workers, but a lot of old timers were alienated by name calling language. Calling a respected old time union officer a "handkerchief headed Uncle Tom" is going to make you some enemies.
So, lately, I've been getting up at 3:30 in the morning and getting home at 6:30 at night. I'm tired, I'm cranky and I say things I probably shouldn't. If I've said something dumb, mean, offensive or hurtful I apologize. I might have to do something really crazy if things continue this way. Hopefully it will be fun and crazy.
The guys in this video might be crazy, but they seem to be having fun. Fun will ward off craziness. Even if fun is a little crazy.
And by the way, 35 years ago today the democratically elected government of Chile was overthrown with the assistance of the United States government. At least 6,000 people were "disappeared" or outright murdered.
Explain the collapse of the third building, the pools of molten metal in the wreckage, the absence of any identifiable aircraft parts at The Pentagon etc, etc and I will stop thinking about the Reichstag Fire. Until then, condolences to those who lost loved ones and hope that the perpetrators are identified and captured someday.
Hat tip to The Field Negro. Long after it would have done me any good, I have finally become cool. Mick Farren, the Mick Farren, has posted a link to this blog at Doc 40.
Ozzie Nelson that is. Harriett, David and Little Ricky look on in horror. NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SCREAM, RUN, BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT, ANYTHING TO GET AWAY FROM THE NIGHTMARE THAT IS THIS VIDEO, YOU MUST KEEP WATCHING UNTIL ABOUT 3:00 WHEN HE BITES THE HEAD OFF A BAT.
