Saturday, September 29, 2007

"Out, and About"

(Click on images to enlarge)

I was wandering around mid-town late this afternoon. Sometimes I like to be in the crowds. I like to listen to the music of all their voices. It's interesting. One doesn't hear "American" much around the city. I was on the bus, and overheard conversations in Arabic, Chinese, Spanish, and some European language I'd never heard before. Maybe something eastern.

However "American" English,...rare. Oh sure there's plenty of New York American don't get me wrong. I'm just saying one does not hear the language that's spoken west of the Hudson in these parts much.

It's so rare that it's a shock to hear it. Just today some folks from somewhere in the midwest pasted me by, and I heard American for the first time in I don't know when. I guess I miss it.

See, New York as you've heard is not really in the U.S.A. Yeah we can vote, and we pay tax's to Washington, but there it ends. I guess we're more part the cosmopolitan world than the rest of the States. Maybe that's why the country hates us so much.


It's a nice though still too warm evening here in the Emerald City. We had a few chilly nights, but summer is still very much in business here. I've heard that fall/early winter has set in over in Europe.

Who knows when or if that will happen here. Last year was another year w/out winter for us here. We'll see what happens this time. I'm not hopeful for a snowy Christmas. I hear the ice at the North Pole has melted. Bad news for Father Christmas, or Santa or whatever. That jolly Noel guy and Black Peter are fucked.

They'll have to move their operations to Mexico, and the Pacific Rim. I can see it now. "Santa Co." running sweat shop, slave factories in Maylaisa, Central America, and East L.A. to stay in business.

Such a world we live in.

Btw, them damned meds my witch doctor is making take is making me fatter, and spotty. See sad pix's of your kindly Sovereign above. Now that I look at them I seem sad. I don't feel too weepy. Although yeah I was kind'a sad this morning. But,..well. Must be force of habit. Drepressed people still look fucked up even when they're okay.

Stay Tuned.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

"Fall,& Gracie Return!"

Hi gang. Happy daze! Two of my favorite things are back, a way. Fall, and my free rangeing kat Gracie have come back to the bossom of my affections.

I just have to tell you this. This just happened as I was writing. As I put the period on the last sentence the phone rings. I'm in the newsroom of Wbai where I work. The call was from the head of public relations for the United Nations. Yeah,...'that' United Nations.

Seems some of our more insane radio listeners are tying up their phone lines with insane calls. All this stems she told me from our "drivetime" show yesterday afternoon in which the host attacked the U.N. for reasons that aren't exactly clear.

In anycase some of our nuttier listeners have been besieging the U.N. w/ as I said incoherent calls. I tell'ya folks you can't make this stuff up. Anyhow the upshot is they're going to lift our accreditation if we don't tell these loonies to back off.

How about that. Here I am minding my own business playing with my blog, and the whole U.N. calls up to threaten me. Hey is this fun or what? Most folks are only threatened by their electric company, but I got the whole U.N. on the phone give'n me hell.

'Boy this is the life. Where else could this happen!

I just love New York,...and so does Gracie!

(Below is my old "Scout" story. A fan wanted to see it again, ya go.)


Well it was the early 1960's, and "Morning in America!" Jackie Kennedy was "jazz'n up" the White House'n try'n to give us a little class fer christ's sakes. Dr. King, and brave other's was out there risking their lives for the soul of the nation. Because of that white folks was finally starting to feel a little ashamed of all them lynchings 'n stuff they let pass.

We was puting up the first satellites, and planning to go to the Moon! For those of you who wasn't there I got'a tell ya's this country was serious hot shit in them daze!

Dig it,.. our folks had good jobs, gas was cheap, we had tv's, and was watch'n 'em till the cows came home! The schools worked, the trash was collected, Santa came every Christmas, we had flesh colored bandaids, and any work'n Joe could buy a house. Shit! We had the H-frigg'n Bomb'n zillions of shiny new B-52's to deliver them! So nobody dared give us crap. Not only that, but polio was licked, and comic books was 10 cents.

Hey! Was that a "Golden Age" or what?!!

Well, in the middle of all that bright, and happy noise I decided I wanted to be a Boy Scout! 'Made sense given the times. I wanted to serve my country,..over easy with fries. It was "Camelot" big time back then, and I wanted to do my bit for "King'n Country!"

Also in my horny young mind I figured the scouts was just the place for "Colored Sissy" kid, with Anarchist tendencies. I figured getting in would be no problem. After all I was real smart, sweet'n polite as hell! I also had the "Blessed Virgin Mary", da frigg'n "Pope", my Mommy, and Robert Kennedy's Justice Department on my side.

How could I lose?

See I had gleeful visions of wearing one of them "Smokey the Bear" hats that scouts gets to have. Boy those things is neat! Better than cowboy hats anyday. Anyway I was dreaming of that, and all them badges, ribbons, medals, and assorted bright, and cheerful doodads they heaps on ya in the scouts for being a good kid.

'Course then there was the official "Boy Scouts of America!" hatchet, canteen, compass, handbook, and surplus national guard folding mini-shovel danceing like sugar plums over my innocent, and curly head! Eh, say nuthin' about them cute scout short pants, and kneesox. Well okay that was a later "fetish",..but still ya gets the idea.

Let me tell you of my innocent boyish scout'n visions,...

I saw me, and my new scout pal's out in the wilds of New Jersey,..track'n down mountain lions, diging up "Spanish Gold!", building tree house's, sighting UFO's. We'd be hot on the trail of "Atomic Spies", rescue'n katz, explore'n mysterious caves, and making friends with da Indians.

We'd be tying all sorts of knots, painting ourselves up like "Souix Warriors". We would eat wild berries, shit in the woods, wipe our butts with leaves. The lot of us would go running on all fours, and howl at da moon like wolves!

To relax we'd go skinny dipping, have kissing contests, circle jerks, doll parties, and build model airplanes!

At night under the stars we'd sing doo-wop songs, cook foot long koshur hot dogs over a roaring camp fire, and tell scary stories about deranged communist robots from Venus invading Nebraska. At bed time we'd set up a surplus air force parachute, and use it as our communal tent. We'd all recite our prayers, kiss each other good night, cuddle up like puppies, and slip into the gentle arms of Elysium. Perhaps some few might stay awake to chase fireflies or sing songs to each other. Oh, such a sweet, and innocent vision.

Unfortunately 'none' of this swell shit went down. What did happen was...

My Mom: "What did you say?!"

Scoutmaster: "Eh,..I'm sorry Mrs. Smith, but it's just policy". "There's nothing I can do about it"

"This troop doesn't admit coloreds".

My Mom: "But my son goes to this school which is integrated". "Your troop is part of this school"

Scoutmaster: "Technically yes, but the board has the final say in these matters".
"As I said I'm sorry we can't admit your son into our program."

My Mom was gonna slug this jerk, but didn't 'cause he seemed, (at least to her, she said). This cog ashamed of having to do this foul shit to someone.

I'd have slugged him anyway, and maybe burned the school down too. Anyhow the "I'm just following orders" drone went on to tell my Mom of another troop that was willing to take 'some' negros.


That bunch was a long bus ride away from where we lived so "thank", but "no thanks" said my Mom. So I made do with being looked after by the crazy old ladies at the community center. They taught me how to make paper mache dinosaurs. Okay they were very nice, but it wasn't the Scouts!

Of course at the time I didn't know any of this. My Mommy told me this whole bullshit story about their being no room in local troop troop that season. 'Made sense too. You have to remember it was the early 60's. The height of the "Baby Boom" era.

There were zillions of us kids all over the place. Hell, we was "Climb'n in through da windows!", quote Holden Caufield.

So yeah I bought it.

Next year I asked again,..same story. The year after that I didn't ask. I had other problems. ' slamming face first into my wonderful teen years.

Well the seasons passed,..imagine the pages flying off a calender or hour glass's going nuts like in them old black'n white movies. The seasons passed, and with one thing, and another I found myself a young man.

Eh, perhaps I should put that another way. Never mind, look it was 1976 the Bi-Centennial year.

We'd just lost the Viet-Nam War, there were mile long lines for petrol, the economy was in the toilet. Ford Pinto's were spontaneously combusting on our highways. We'd stopped going to the moon, or anywhere else for that matter. People thought "platform shoes" were cool, and the first rumblings of the Drug War's, and AIDS were being heard, and lime green was 'in'.

Yeah the 1970's,...wonderful.

Well 70's or not you only get one "Bi-Centennial" to a country. So we celebrated. I had gone home to visit my folks. 'Back then was living out west. Stuff happened. I saw, and did interesting, terrible, and wonderful things out there. I never told no one about them strange days in my life. Not my family, not my pals, not my radio audience, day maybe.

But back to this particular story.

I was home sitting in the parlor watching the parades, and mayhem with my Mom on her color tv. Her first. Aw gee. I remember when I first saw color tv. Heck even the commercial looked good. Anyway as we watched there were these guys dressed in civil war uniforms re-enacting some battle.

After that six-gun tote'n cowboys showed up, and shot at each other for a while. Then some white guys came on dressed as Indians, and did some sort of phony native dance. There was a float with some actors pretending to be astronauts on the moon we no longer went to.

Next some old farts in funny hats driving "Model T's" chugged by. This was followed by a mess of high school "ROTC" drill teams goose stepping down 5th avenue like the Hitler Youth. They was flip'n their M-1 carbines all over da place, and not one was dropped!

Next a bunch'a folks rolled by dressed like pilgrims. They was drink'n Cokes on a flatbed pulled by oxen. Some "Rough Ryders' on horseback shot at some Cubans, and all this followed by poor slobs in hot dog suits shoveling up after them.

Yep! That's "America" okay. '..recognize her anywhere.

Well, after a while on comes the Boy Scouts,..hundreds of 'em! They was wearing their "Smokey the Bear" hats too! Wow them boys was have'n a great time march'n, and horse'n around with each other. I mentions to my Mother as all this is going on that it was too bad about all that "over crowding" when I was a kid. I told her how I really, really wanted to be a scout.

My Mommy gets quiet, she looks at me, and tells me the whole story..., all of it.

Like I said, parents, the good ones protects their kids. Protects their Innocence as long as they can.

Many many seasons later. Long after my Mommy had gone to Heaven. I got a call from my sister. She said her son, my youngest nephew had been called a "nigger" at school that day. He was still crying, was my sister. " begins I thought".

"Let your children enjoy their Innocence for as long as possible". But when the demons finally do breech your walls of love, and protection. Make them ready. Make them strong. Teach them to face the fire,..and Survive.



I still do want one of them "Smokey the Bear" hatz,...I really do.


Friday, September 21, 2007

"G-d Lives on the 6th Floor"

(Here are three of my stories hope you enjoy them.)


G-d's on the subway, She's com'n home from work. It's crowded she couldn't get a seat again. She has a headache, and her feet are kill'n her. G-d makes another mental note about urban congestion, and stress.

She's been notice'n this problem since "Ur", or was it Babylon? Anyway it was that time she was a snake charmer. Ah,..the carnivals, the music, the theatre. These are just about the best things humanity has come up with. It's among the reasons she loves them so much.

It's their "saving grace",...literally.

The train pulls into G-d's station. She has to struggle her way out of the crowded car. No one will get out of her way. Manners, and polite consideration still haven't caught on. At least not consistently. Still, they are learning, her children are. They are trying. G-d joins the wave of tired people coming home from work or school or mischief, and they ascend together out of the grimy station.

On her way to her flat G-d does some lite shopping at her favorite deli. She picks up a pint of vanilla ice cream,..with almonds! Some oranges, a box of mint tea. You know, the brand with all the nice pictures on 'em. Some bread sticks, and dried figs. All the major food groups.

G-d browsed Her way to the counter, and pays for Her goods in Aztec jade, Roman silver, and Confederate bank notes. The Jamaican family that owns, and runs the deli is used to their 'special' customer paying in odd currencies. The woman behind the register gives G-d her change in Barbados dollars, American dimes, and Australian pennies.

The two are friends, the clerk, and G-d. So they stand awhile exchange'n gossip, and other pleasantries which are cut short by the needs of the other customers. G-d adds a lotto ticket, and some chapstick to her purchase. With that the two bid each other goodbye till next time.

Outside the deli G-d sees a homeless man begging for change. G-d knows him, his name is Thomas. G-d remembered when he was conceived. She was there when he was born, and She's been with him ever since. Though Thomas doesn't remember it 'once upon a time' his name was Azzeel, and he is an Angel.

One day he'll remember that, but for now G-d smiled at him, and put a silver shekel once earned by a certain Judean carpenter into his cup. Doing this, and smiling still She went on her way.

G-d blinked, and there was Light. G-d sang, and there was Life. G-d smiled, and there was Love.

The "Lord of Hosts" got to her building. She lived on the top floor of a six story walk up. G-d liked living up there it was convenient to the roof. In summer, and spring if it wasn't raining she'd spread a blanket, and lay there. She'd lay on her blanket, and watch Her sky, Her clouds, and at night Her moon, and Her stars. How she loved them, she did all Her children.

G-d quickly bounded up the stairwell concerned that her ice cream might melt. As She went up She enjoyed the aroma of cooking from half a dozen ethnic groups. Her neighbors were preparing, and settling down for their evening meals.

The "Divine" enjoyed the music the symphony's of all their various languages, and the emotions behind them. At last G-d got to Her apartment,..6-B. She put Her key into her triple "Medico" lock, and went in. Her cats Caine, and Able were indignantly waiting for her. It was well past their dinner time, and they were more than slightly annoyed.

Her pets didn't care if She was G-d,...they were cats, and 'they' were hungry.


The G-d of Abraham, the Lord of Ghandi, the Mother Creator of all that was is or will be was on the roof of Her sixth floor "walkup." She was sitting in a lawn chair,..listening. It was well past midnight, and it was snowing. The sharp winter winds had sculpted drifts all around her.

G-d was looking out over the city, and listening to prayers. The "Lord Creator" listened to prayers the way people listened to the radio. The music of souls was in the air. The sky was bathed in prayer they danced over the city like bright, and sparkling aurora's.

G-d watched, and listened. She listened to each,..and..every one.


G-d was sitting in a dinner. She was eating an apple turnover, and drinking coffee, black no sugar. It was an early spring afternoon. The pleasant weather had brought people out on to the streets after their long winter hibernations.

Just regular folks, individuals, couples, families, and their pets were strolling amiably about. This pleased G-d. She liked to see her children happy, and spring was perhaps the happiest of seasons. The abiding earth awakening from it's long winters rest. The budding of seeds. The awakening of life, and hope

G-d thumbed through a copy of "Time" magazine. Wars, fears,...some of her children were very consistent indeed. The founder of "Dreams", and She who filled the "Well of Souls" looked up from an article on "celebrity pet cloning", and noticed a teenaged girl with a pet ferret around her neck.

She smiled,..G-d smiled. She took another bite of Her sugar frosted turnover, and mused on how full of love, and good intent human beings were. Yet also how full of raging darkness as well. This ability the power to embrace light, and darkness is unique to this species.

It is a gift, this power. A gift from the "Divine" to humanity. It is there so that these people would one day weave something from them. Something greater than than either. Will they succeed? Will these children achieve transcendence? Time will tell.

Speaking of "time" it was getting late, and the Lord G-d Almighty" had to get home. Her cats were probably furious with Her again. She hadn't cleaned their box in a few days.

G-d finished Her coffee, as She rose She reached into her purse, and took out three silver coins. Three Greek coins from the Empire of Alexander. The "Lord of Hosts" left these next to her empty cup as a tip, and left the shop.


The "Lord of Creation" was on a downtown bus, She was headed to a dentists appointment. Some of Her fillings were loose. G-d was seated on one of those hard plastic bench's toward the back, and was looking out the window.

The ebb, and flow of the traffic reminded Her of the start'n stop gliding of schools of fish. The "Lord" couldn't help, but beam,..She smiled despite the bad fillings. For She loved all of Her children so...,from the smallest creatures on the bottom of the sea to the bus driver that was battle the traffic.

G-d turned, and looked around the bus at the passangers. She saw that almost all the tribes of humanity were here. Yes, New York, Constantinople, Babylon how they all gathered the family together. She enjoyed her time in all of them.

Here they were again on this downtown bus. There was a Russian plumber filling out a lotto ticket. A young African school girl telling secrets to her best friend. A Korean house painter idly cleaning plaster from under his finger nails. There at the side were two Mexican women in animated conversation about the new bookstore they were going to open.

And,.. An old woman, a woman who had lived most of her life in rural China. She was stareing. Stareing at "Her",..G-d. The woman looked from behind dark crinkled lids with clear brown eyes. Eyes that held recognition. "I see You." Eyes that beheld "G-d Almighty" on a bouncing downtown bus on an unremarkable day.

This didn't happen often, being seen, being "recognized." When it did it was usually small children or the dying. Those closest to transition, either entering or leaving this life. 'Children, the Dying' This woman that saw Her,..saw G-d was neither.

Her name was Violet. This woman who could see,..who could behold the "Creator of the Heavens, and the Earth,..Violet. Now when she was very young she was a soldier. A soldier in a terrible war. In that she saw much suffering, terrible grief. Then later she loved, became a mother. Then a student, then a healer.

Violet spent most of her life as an urbalist. She learned how the Earth itself was a life giving organism. She used her knowledge of this to cure illness, assist childbirth, and ease death.

G-d, and Violet just sat, and beheld each other as New York honked, and blinked around them. Till at last Violet asked G-d, asked in a calm voice,.."Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Almighty G-d" She who laid the foundations of Worlds!, look at Violet with just a touch of a gentle smile on her lips, and said,.."Yes."

Violet thought about G-d's answer as the bus waited for a stream of police cars, and fire engines their sirens blareing to pass. In a few minutes they were moving again. The bus eventually pulled up to Union Square, the woman's stop.

Violet got up to leave, but turned at the last moment, as the middle doors opened, and asked G-d,.."Are you happy?" The "Maker of All Things" thought a moment, and said,.."I'll let you know." The woman nodded, and went on her way.

That night her mouth still numb from the novcaine. G-d thought again about Violets last question. "Am I happy?" How wise Her children were. Happiness was the whole point of this particular creation. Happiness, joy, fullfillment, the Lord smiled. "Ophra" is closer to the Truth than she knows", but still is the "Creator" happy?

Cain, and Able God's Persian cats meowed loudly. They were demanding attention, 'and' their dinner,..again. Btw, a better brand of kitty litter would be nice too they told the "Mother of Creation."

As "G-d Almighty" She who painted the silent void with fire, and dreams knelt on her kitchen floor, and fed her dear companions. She looked out of her window, and saw that the night sky danced again with bright aurora's of prayer's.

She will listen. Yes G-d will listen again to the Dreams, and Nightmares of Her children. G-d who made the stars shine, and galaxies spin will listen to the prayers of the world. Though tonight she will pray too.

Tonight God will Pray 'with' Her Children.




G-d is not far away in some golden heaven, ruling some distant Paradise. G-d is here with us. Always has been. Always will be. Because G-d's Heaven is on Earth.

The blue, and fruitful world continued to sail around it's golden sun. Life went on with all it's joys, sorrows, and mysteries. The years gathered into centuries. The centuries into millenia, and the millenia into ages. Ages that melted mountains, lowered, and raised seas, and rearranged the stars.

In this time all life was in the sea, as it was in the beginning. Humanity had long since transcended to their bright realities. Oh! How that pleased G-d! She was still with them, and loved them in their new realms.

Though She'd followed her children as they scattered themselves amongst the stars. She still remembered, and abided on the earth. Now She dwelled in the seas with her newer children. This as the land rested, and healed from it's long work.

G-d, the maker of Worlds, the founder of Dreams swam in clouds of plankton. She manuvered amongst schools of fish, burrowed with worms, swayed with sea weed, 'and' Contemplated with Whales. Whales..,and the others of their kind were the next of Her children who would find their way to the stars.

She would learn with them, wonder with them, pray with them till at last they too found their bright place in eternity. She would do this for them as She had for all of Her children on all of the Earths.

With Patients She would Watch.

With Patients She would Guide.

With Patients She would Love.



Some of this story is true, some is not. Not yet, but it's all sincerely shared.

I woke up this morning with "Wings!" Not little fledgling feathers, but with radiant Raphael renaissance wings. Think the Angel Gabriel in all them Annunciation paintings.

I was in bed between being awake, and dreaming when I felt an itch where I'd never felt one before. Something was going on around my shoulder blades. I experienced that strange sensation amputees have, but in reverse. There was now 'more' instead of less.

I touched my back. There was something there. I rolled out of bed, and nearly fell over, center of gravity had changed! I picked my way through the semi-light of early dawn to my dresser mirror.

Well there I was. Looking as I usually did when I wake up. At least now in my grumpy middle years. I'll spare you the grim details, but there was a light over my shoulders. I half turned. Wings.

I had wings.


A few days ago,...before the wings. I was stand'n on a corner waiting for the light to change. There were some school kids horse'n around near the edge. One of the kids spilled out into the street oblivious to the danger.

An "SUV" big as a tank was speeding straight at 'em! The bastard wasn't even thinking about slow'n down. As they say in these sorts of stories, time slowed down. The world, and all in it seemed to drift like feathers in a light breeze.

Well I was standing right there so I just reached out, and pulled the kid in. Time resumed it's natural flow. The car/tank flashed by, and the kids didn't miss a beat. They continued laff'n, and playing.

All of them apparently unknowing of the tragedy averted. The light finally changed, and the kids frolicked away. Life went on.

Once more I "happened" to be there to pull someone in. "Right place", "Right time",...again. A few months ago there was that little boy I pulled back from slipping over a railing, and falling into the East River. Then there was that teenage girl I yanked back from stepping into the path of a bus.

Theres more,...the old lady in the subway, the man at that construction site I happened to be passing, the little girl, and that car backing out of the driveway.

Wait it gets better.

A couple of summers ago there were these two teenagers that were gonna knife each other to bits on the subway. I stood between them. Don't ask me why I did it 'cause I don't know.

One moment I'm sitting with everybody else hoping that someone would 'do' something. Next thing I know that someone was me! How the hell did that happen?! Hey, I'm a New Yorker, but I ain't that crazy!

Now this sort'a thing has been going on for most of my life. Since I was a kid. I never questioned it. It was just 'something' that happened sometimes. There's people that can shoot milk through their nose's, me I save complete strangers from certain death.

'And no, I can't predict horse races or lotto numbers. My rotten luck, figures. Unfortunately this ain't a "gift" I can make a living off of. Don't expect to see me on "Oprah" anytime soon. Unless of course I "happened" to pull her from the path of a speeding "Health Quack", and their publicists!

Anyway through it all the folks involved in these "incidents" don't got a clue. They all seem totally oblivious to the danger averted. I guess it all happens too fast for them to notice that the very "Jaws of Death" had just snapped at them!
'And because I was there,...missed.


I was considering this curious personal history as I looked over my shoulder at my wings. Interesting, they seem to react to light like a prism. My every movement was creating rainbows.

Truly this is a neat gift though I don't think I ever prayed for it. I suppose this is my "Stigmata", my unasked for token from Heaven.

I should say to those not raised by deranged Nuns. The stigmata is a sign from G-d to the particularly faithful or insane. Take ya pick. Since I consider organized religion the worse disaster in human history. Well, maybe second to the last ice age or that comet or whatever that blew away all the dinosaurs. I guess that narrows ya choices.

(About the stigmata though. You're basically awarded, "awarded" mind you with the inconvenient, and extremely painful wounds suffered by Jesus during his passion. Good grief!)

One look at that Jesus blood fest that Mel Gibson splattered across the cineplex's of the world should give you a good idea of what this"gift" is about. Nailed hands, and feet. Crown of thorns, stabbed side, the works as only "gawd da father can provide!"

Kind'a makes ya wonder what the 'other side' is offering. Humm, just sign here in my own blood eh? Do that, and I get's my way with the world for the rest of my greedy life. Tempting.

(Eh..., now that I think about it maybe this sign'n my soul away to the fiery furnace ain't so sweet'a deal after all. Nothin' personal there Mr. Satan, but I'll keep the wings. Getting molten lead enemas for eternity don't sound like a good deal afterall.

Also I've seen that episode of the "Twilight Zone", ya know the one with Sebastian Cabot as the devil. Forget it. I got enuff problems as it is with these damned wings, and work'n at WBAI!

Them wings though, I seemed to have been let off easy on the the stigmata scale. They don't bleed, and they weigh almost nothing. I wonder if I can fly? Wait'a minute, that 'would' put me on "Oprah!" Things might be look'n up for me after all.

I'm assume'n that this is a gift from the "Good Guys." My wings are amazing. They seem to have weightless weight, and edgeless edges, presence without presence. Running my hands over them is like passing ones fingers through a thick warm mist. They're just this side of solid.


The Dreams. I have too often seen things that will happen. 9/11, the south Asian tsunamis. I had dreamed these, and other things over the years, and told you about them on the air. On my radio program, "Carrier Wave". I described these terrible events in detail long before they happened. Others did so as well, and you laughed, and forgot.

The dreams are the worst because no one believes them, and when they come true they don't remember I told them. If I bring it up they look at me like I belong on the front page of a supermarket tabloid. Yeah me shaking hands with a space alien or a yeti or somethin'.

All I can do is see these things. I can't stop them. I once begged G-d to take this "gift" away. I remember telling this to my dear friend, and long time popular radio host Bob Fass. He said it was "better to 'see', and tell" because a few "might hear it", and believe. Some "might benefit from your gift which is why you have it!"

Then there's the Spirits. They visit me, always have since I was little. They touch my hands, my face. They enter my dreams, the speak to me, and show me wonders, and horrors.

Angels, Spirits, Demons, remembering the future, pulling souls from the jaws of eternity,...and now Wings! Have I been given this unambiguous miracle so that those I pull from "Well of Forever" will know from where their rescue really comes?

Paradise has bestowed on me an undeniable token. Bright Wings! A Miracle for which I did not ask, and don't know what to do with.

'..but I'm sure I'll think of something.



A while back I was remembering a childhood event. I told the story on the air of how my Aunt Sybil "Knighted" my brother,cousins, and me.

Long, long ago when Kennedy was our young, noble King, and Woodstock was an unknown farm town. I was a kid. In this instance I was a kid playing in my aunt Sybil's back yard. I was happily raise'n hell with my brother John, and my cousins Jimmy, and Henry.

We were happy, secure, innocent, and playing in our aunt Sybil's house in Hollis Queens. Btw, we called auntie, "Mum",...can't remember why. Just as none of us remembers why we call my little sister "Cookie." All lost in the mists of kidhood.

Well there we were scream'n, and jumping uping down! When out comes "Mum" to the grassy yard. She set up the big lawn chair, and put a pillow in front of it. She also brought out our Grandma's colorful winter quilt.

You guys ever read "Prince Valiant?" My auntie did. In fact it was her favorite story book from childhood. So it's no surprise that we all got "Prince Valiant" sets at Christmas. Well we got sox, books, and other useless stuff too, but Mum always came through with the neat presents.

She once gave me a model airplane w/a real gasoline motor in it! One summer I was flying it in Prospect Park, and the cord snapped. It flew away. I never in all these years found the wreckage. I like to think it's still flying somewhere in the world,..China maybe.

'But the Prince Valiant set, oh my, it was so beautifully made! Bright painted tin shield, golden sword, and plumed "flower pot" helmet! This stuff would be worth a fortune today on ebay if you could find it! (...and I've looked) Well Mum brings these out with her to the yard, and performs magic.

We got in line shortest to tallest, and before we knew it we were Knighted! Me, Henry, Johnny, then Jimmy. Each in our turn would don Grandma's quilt as we knelt before Mum.

She held the golden sword above us while saying grownup words then gently touched one shoulder then the other with the Prince's glinting blade. I can't remember all that she said, but I do know that it felt serious. Not play.

Our Aunt Sybil was giving us something important. Something that was real. Very real. Was that the moment when we all became men? That so long ago summer day when we knelt before she who would later become the "Matriarch" of all our families.

The years passed our innocence slipping away. My brother, and cousins grew up to be paratroopers, and fought in the Indochina wars. They were the "Knights", that's what they called themselves. My cousin Henry even painted a winged "Excalibur" on the side of his helicopter.

I have often wondered if the magic that Auntie gave us that day helped them to survive over there. I think it did. I think Mum knew exactly what she was doing.

There are only two Knights left now my brother, and me. Time, and the world have taken the others. Still that warm day lives in us. That gift from our dear Auntie has seen us into a new century, and a grateful middleage.

God Bless You Mum.

Whereas I said I don't remember all the words that were said over us I always meant to compose something to fill in the gaps. Here it is. I pinched most of it from books, or movies though a few words are mine. I hope it may come in handy for you if you ever have to Knight a worthy person. Be they old or very, very young no matter, one size fits all.

"The Oath of a Knight"

Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave, be honest, be generous, and kind. Oppose evil in all of it's forms. Have the wisdom to do not what is easy, but what is right. Respect Women. Safeguard the helpless, respect all faiths. But beware of "Pride" the source of all error.

Now in the name of G-d the founder of Dreams. She who filled the "Well of Forever" with souls, and put smiles on the lip of the yet born. In the Name of She who painted the void with fire. In that Name!, and in the names of Saint Michael, and Saint George the slayer of Dragons,...You are Consecrated, rise, a Knight, and assume your responsibilities.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007


This morning instead of my usual routine I decided to take a walk to the "Brooklyn Botanical Gardens". It was very early so I had almost all to myself.

Very quiet, very peaceful.

I poked 'about the rose's for a while,..see above. Then sat on a bench listening to the birds, and the wind. Summer is finally ebbing. It's still warm, but the wind has a chill on it. The sun, and moon have chased each other into another season.

Be well, and be good to each other.


Sunday, September 16, 2007

"Healing Circle"

Hi gang! Our pal DeeJohn is ill. DeeJohn does "Deejohnized" there's a link to his space on the right there. Anyway he's a bit under the weather. Like our pal "ai" was a week or so ago.

Well your kind, and good thoughts, and intentions healed ai of the flu in two days! So it looks like we've got some good Mojo happening here. You're swell folks out there,...all six of you. Ahem.

Anyhow lets do it again for David. That's one of his names like "Paul" is one of mine. Think, dream, pray, hum, sing, chant, kindly, healing energy to our dear pal. Cook a swell dinner with him in mind, or plant something in your yard or window box. Care for it like you'd care for David.

Breath life into all that you do for him, for you, for me, and for all your neighbors.


Friday, September 14, 2007

"Electric Trains"

The whole world is going to hell. However electric trains have never failed or betrayed me. I just luv'em! I got my first set when I was six, and I still have it. Everything in the world, and in my life has changed.

However like the moon, and the stars electric train sets still have the power to charm, and comfort. Thank gawd.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Today was a dark, rainy, unhappy day. My grandma used to say when the Angels cry their tears would fall to earth.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Sunday, September 9, 2007

"Radio Daze"

Sometimes being a radio engineer sucks. Yeah, yeah I know it's my job, and they pay me for it blah, blah. However tonight I'm fed up with straight people. Them, their music, culture, politics, customs, insanities, the works.

In the same way they're revolted by Dykes, and Queers I'm lately disgusted with most of them. Don't get me wrong I like, and am pals with Tony Ryan, and Mark Laosa. But their shows early this morning,..well.

Tony's show is all black straight "I love my baby music" swell. All that drippy soul stuff about romance'n, and fucking your "baby" in the the alley behind the club.

Knowing as I run this show that everyone listening to it would either gleefully shove me into an oven or look the other way while some other bunch'a "brothers" did it.

At the carribean day parade there were three different floats encourage'n gay bash'n. One of them was this preacher say'n how the black nation will strike down all perversion,...the crowd cheered.

Nothing like being in a crowd of folks that openly express's the desire for your bloody extinction. The other two did the "Batty Boy" routine. Batty Boys are fags, and in the carribean they kill'em,..batty boys that is.

Period, talk, no fuss, no muss. They hunt Queers down, and kill them. These savages beat them to death, and set the bodies on fire.

Amnesty International called Jamaica the most dangerous place in the world for Queers. Well okay that was last year. I guess they're only 2nd or 3rd now,...not including Brooklyn.

Well this, and alot of little nasty things that have been adding up over the last year or two. This stuff has made me hate straight men. Well "hate" may go too far. Certainly I'm at least weary of them. Very weary.

If I had the option never to have to deal with or see straight males ever again I'd take the deal. Where the fuck do I sign!

This awful rainbow flag yanking thing was sort of the lastest last straw. Especially since very few at the radio station either know or care very much about the incident.

Imagine if someone tore down or defaced Malcomb X's happy face from our walls.

You can just imagine da selfrightous bullshit. Wouldn't be surprized if they had that hudlum opportunist "Rev." Sharpton or one of his jive pals show up to join the pissing contest.

Say wouldn't it be fun just for a day to have straight men walk in our shoes. To be fair game for assault, insults, murder, and have no one care.

Naw that wouldn't work. Black Americans hate Queers, and their suffering clearly doesn't give them any understanding of ours. So it wouldn't work on straight guys either. Empathy. They have no Empathy. Neither bunch.

Oh in case ya wondering I'm brown or black or in anycase not white. So I have intimate knowledge of black gay hate.

Well excuse me while I figure out what to do with my rage.

As for the "Cosmic Debris" show this morning. Good grief! Mark will you com'on. No one wants to hear a loud screeching John Cage "piece from hell" tearing their eardrums to shreds at 6:00am!

I nearly jumped out of the window fer christ's sakes!!!

Hell, did I do something to piss you off, and this was ya revenge?

Aw nevermind we're pals. Just lay off the "Cage" till I've had a shot of heroin or something to pad the experience.

Stay tuned.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

"Astro's Queer Dance"

"Asto Boy", and his lover "Jiro" dance for freedom at the site of the yanked down Queer Rainbow flag at Wbai radio. Oh the shame of it. A place noted for it's humane heart now just another hostile workplace.

A dear pal of mine, and a station board member suggested that a new flag be painted on the wall. Sounds like a swell idea. In fact I think I'll do just that. Yeah I know what with war, mayhem , slavery, starvation, and oppression all over da place this is small potatoes.

So what it piss's me off. Anyway remember think global, act local! A statement has to be made that this 'isn't' okay. We're 'not' giving up any space more no matter how small to the darkness.

The sad thing is this happened in the daytime. So there were alot of witness's, witness's who chose to do nothing. Aw well. Sad place this 21st century,...ain't it.

Friday, September 7, 2007

"Gay Flag Torn Down!",...again.

"Astroboy's Dance"

"WBAI 4:30am"


Hey anybody there? Ha! 5 people come here a week. So just thinking out loud what the hell am I waste'n my time for working on this anymore. Well it's still kind'a fun, least for me.

That, and those 5 people are my friends. Okay, good enuff. I'll keep at it.

Another thing. I'm having all sorts of memory problems. I mean more than usual. Stuff will just drop out of my head. Very annoying. Also I seemed to have lost the ability to spell. Well okay I never really could, but it's got worse.


Anyway it's supposed to be 90f today so I guess I go to Coney Island one last time for the season. The bastards are gonna wreck it over the winter, and most of it won't be back next season.

The future of our beloved Mermaid's Parade is still up in the air. Unless someone out there has fresh news as to it's fate. My gawd I'm going to miss her. That was one of the best weird, horny, loud, drunken traditions this city ever had.

The Parade, and Coney Island are bitting the dust to make room for more oblivious rich termites.


Ya know it's high time we did something about them folks. Naw I didn't mean shove'n pipe bombs under their SUV's. Tempting, but not something pacifists should do if ya see my point.

No we should come up with something more entertaining to let them evil termite people know just how fed up working folks are with them. Yeah dream on. This is America. We're too stupid to fight for our own interests.

Wait,...I know. We'll come up with a new flavor of health food based on monkey shit, and get those mama'lukes to eat it. We'll come up with some chic bullshit about how it all ecological, and prolongs life, or increases intelligence.

We'll have a comrad plant an article in the "New Yorker" about an ancient Mayan recipe reserved for the gawds'n.

Throw in a bunch of health buzz words, and some new age double talk about increased concentration, centering of being, and other assorted Ram Dass nonsense. Yeah, stuff like "the digested essence of jungle roots", and "Andean" vines mixed with natural spring water, and "Yucatan" berries or some such whooie.

'Have a couple of bright'n happy yuppies with shit eating grins on their mugs sucking this crap down in all the ads. 'Have it seen in the backround of hip movies. On the coffee tables of rich babes'n power brokers.

In no time them annoying fuckers that are driving the middle class, and poor into the sea will be chew'n, and chug-ga-lugg'n this...SHIT! Yep we'll call it "Amazonia".

"Amazonia" Sparkling Vine Esscence, and "Amazonia Energy Crunch Bars!" These dummies will be eating, and drinking monkey shit by da millions, and line'n up for seconds. Oh sweet'n nasty revenge thy name is Amazonia.

Okay not as satisfy'n as blowing them up in their giant Plutocratmobiles, but it still makes the point.

Eat Shit!

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

"Minister of Beauty"

This is an stylized image of A.I. Our Royal Republic's Minister of Beauty, and Ambassador to the European Union. He's been under the weather lately so I ask my dear comrad subjects to please send him your good, and healing thoughts.

Those of you that respect the various Deities might wish to perform whatever healing rituals you think best for our dear Minister. He has an early seasonal flu, and we all know what a mess that can be. So lets form a circle, and do that healing thing for our pal.

"Batty,& Spawn"

Okay so ya can see my finger there. Gimme a break I was tired, and 'sides I'm just getting the hang of this thing. Btw next time I'll add music to the Japanese stuff. I just wanted to see how they'd scanned this time 'round. Not too bad.

Give me a few months at this maybe I'll get interesting. I'm designing a little video/photo studio for my toys, and dolls so I can do it right. Better lighting, braces, a mini stage, and theater front. All that cute jazz.

Hey it beats just sitting here waiting for that dirty bomb to go off downtown. Also like I sez I really likes doing all this stuff. Thanks Blogspot for a change you did something cool.

Ha! Watch them delete my butt again if I do another Astro Boy gay orgy scene again!

Stay Tuned.

"Kindly Dolls"

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

"Gentle Ladies"

"My Debris Field"

I'm gonna have to get around to shovel'n out my bedroom soon. What with the rest of the house being more or less renovated. Our wrecked hovel is slowly begining to return to it 1950's splendor. This thanks to assorted relatives, and especially my young cousin/nephew's contracting company.

Yep it always pays to have family in da business. Mind you I had intended to do all the work myself,..ha! Unfortunately I'm now too old, and generally pissed off to bother. Heavy labor is for the young. I've earned the right to sit around read comic books, and watch old black, and white movies.

If I remember I'll take more pix's of my crowded junk rooms while they last. This since I'm going over to "Staples" to get box's, and storage containers for my 38 ton's of wonderful stuff.

I believe Nurse Pickles had a similar problem with Rt. Rev. Martin's "rectory" a few years ago. Well I look on the bright side. More cleared space means more room for new junk!

Stay Tuned.

(Click on above pix for closer look.)