Thursday, May 27, 2010
Not on purpose. I ain't 'that' nuts. I was working on my happy little house, and a tool,..a frigg'n 'SHARP ASS TOOL. Slipped.
You know what that's like.
Anyway there I am trying to figure out how much of my hand and or finger I just sliced off. Funny it didn't hurt, still doesn't much. Anyway there was that dazed moment when I wasn't certain of the damage.
The tip of one of my fingers seemed shifted to an odd angle. Humm, I sez to myself, well okay this is local mayhem. My hand is still attached. The finger though,...like I say, "humm".
I managed to cleanly slice off 80% of my finger nail. This of that finger next to the thumb. The nail, and a nice chunk of flesh. Did I mention the blood?
Ya know if it wasn't for Jim Crow I would'a been a Boy Scout. A Scout with a First Aid Merit Badge perhaps. Well that's gushing blood under the racialist bridge now I guess.
Funny thing I was over at K-Mart just the other day, and it occurred to me that I didn't have a proper first aid kit in the house. Being newly frugal I put it off till next time.
So I'm gushing blood all over my beautifully polished parquet floor. I just love doing the wood work around the digs. You must come over, and admire it some time. Anyway I'm getting faint, and was slipping on the blood.
I had no idea that just one finger had 'that' much gore.
Being a practical sort I goes digging in my tool kit for,..you guessed it. DUCT TAPE. Did you know that half of the International Space Station, and the Mir before it was, and is held together by duct tape.
(Duct Tape on the Moon!)
Indeed, our helicopters, Slicks, and Big Boppers during the Viet-Nam war were similarly sent into the teeth of hellish battle taped to hell'n back.
What's good enuff for them space guys, and Uncle Sam is good enuff for what left of my finger.
I think I passed out for a few moments,..while standing up.
Anyway I make it to the bathroom with my roll of tape. There's actually little ducks on roll. I stick my hand under rushing cold water, and dump half a bottle of hydrogen peroxide on my almost ex-finger. I tied off the pressure point at the base of the offending member, and wrap my entertaining wound in duct tape.
Then I pass out for real.
On closer inspection the wound is fixable. So I don't have to call my old pals from NYFD/EMT. Remember when I was hemorrhaging like crazy through my nose last winter? Yuck. The EMT's came over, and fixed me up fine.
Later I learned it could have been a symptom of a mild stroke.
Maybe it was.
Bleep it I'm still here. Anyway the bleeding eventually stopped, I cleaned up, and went around the corner to the drug store, and got the usual medical doodads one needs to save a finger.
The nice Chassidic lady whose shop it was said I should go to a clinic to have it looked out. Hell that's the last place in the world I'd go.
Them places is spawning grounds for bed bugs, and that flesh eating fungus. Also with no National Health they'd charge me $1200. bucks just to say hello.
I'll take my chances out here thanks.
Well the nail, and flesh were still attached,..somewhat by a bit of tissue so I did some basic field surgery, and first aid. So far so good. It's a day now, and I seem to be on the mend.
The Human body is amazing ain't it. I just mashed down all that shredded flesh, and it's all happily knitting back together. Regular cleanings, changes of sterile wraps, and I'm good to go.
Now to clean up the Blood.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
This is what I dreamed last night. I wrote it down as soon as I awoke. Okay I tweaked it a tad so it would scan, but this is basically it.
I was on a journey with my sisters Sylvia, and Kim. The girls were children again. About 12, and eight. I was a young man perhaps 20. We were riding in a fine horse drawn carriage. A lovely affair of the sort that the gentry of the Federalist era used.
We were riding through Brooklyn, our Borough of Churches. However this was a city not built by blind capital, but one wrought by idealists from the Sun King's realm.
So beautiful, such color. A thoughtful, practical lovely city.
In the dream I remember leaning out slightly from the carriage window to see as much of this dream Brooklyn as I could. Everything I saw combined function, and art. Much as the Ancient Chinese did.
My sisters, as I took in the sights, did as I always remembered them doing on long trips.
They giggled, and played mysterious hand games.
Given what grandma was teaching them I assumed they were casting spells. Knowing them they probably were.
My dear sisters, and I were on our way to see a play. A fevered collage of the "Red Shoes", "A Mid-Summer Nights Dream", and something I can't identify. I could make something up, but it wouldn't be true to the dream.
A whole anxious subplot to this mayhem was my trying to find the tickets. As my sisters sat in their white with hints of silver Jane Austin gowns I quietly poked about my pockets for the damned tickets.
Btw, I'm not a dress designer. So how did I come up with such gorgeous gowns for my sisters. Also, no architect I, so how did I cook up the Sun Kings Brooklyn?
That, and all the endless cute details of this dream,...which if I could I'd post here as a video.
Anyway where the hell does all this come from, and don't start with that collective unconscious stuff. I think something grander than even that may be involved.
Anyway the footman, yeah that guy was there too. The footman opened the door, and my beautiful little sisters climbed down. So off we went ticketless to the dream theatre.
'But oh what a theatre!
It was as wonderful as the Pentagon is grim. Imagine a palace for the arts as designed by Turner, and Walt Whitman. Yeah I could live with that.
We passed under a free floating rotunda whose ceiling was spangled with stars, and misty nebulae,...Turner.
Wait gets better.
My Brother John. My deceased big brother John. John the war hero. John the politician. John the husband, father, and brother. My brother Johnny was standing the entrance of this dream pavilion.
As I said I'm writing this down as soon as I woke up. I need to remember this more than I need to share it with you.
He said nothing. The dead never do in my dreams. But he handed me an envelope. It was my "lost" tickets.
I'll end it here.
The copy goes on as the dream did. The play, my sisters the strange sky. More'n more dream stuff.
Better to end it here.
One of the cool things about living in the Emerald City is that somebody is always making a movie. You can't walk across town without running into a shoot. Commercials, feature films, and my fav NYU Film School student projects.
I always mean to ask them why they keep trying to re-make Hitchcock or Fassbinder flicks. That or their signature shorts that are always 20 minutes too long.
This behavior is painfully consistent.
Jean Maurice Eugène Clément Cocteau famous dead French guy, and former nazi collaborator. Well perhaps I go too far. He was neither an overt Vichy fan nor in the Resistance.
He just looked the other way while tens of thousands of his countrymen, alot of them Jews, and his fellow Queers were disappeared. What the hell millions of others did the same.
Anyway our hero said that as soon as film equipment is as available as a pencil. Only then will the cinema become an art form. I can see why he thought this at the time.
However if he was dug up, and rehydrated he might have another opinion after a few hours of Youtube.
Btw I was nearly run over the Irish ambassador. That's his sudden motorcade driving at 90 mph without warning,...at me.
I lived to make it home, and make a yummy chicken stew in my enchanted slow cooker.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Gimme a break I'm trying!
Hi gang. Other than watching old tv programs, see below, I'm more or less numb. Sorry I know I said I'd post some happy stuff, but what can I say.
If any of you find some let me know.
Btw did you catch the piece about some Tea Party nut out west that said "If you can't get Obama get the bitch!" It's assumed he meant the First Lady, and or First Kids. The Secret Service is investigating.
Good luck. There's thousands of death threats every week. More likely every day.
This country is going into hell's shitter on greased skids.
It seems every redneck in this country is having wet dreams about taking Obama down with their deer rifle. Every time I turn on a tv I'm afraid I'm going to run into some network android telling me about a another lone gunman.
This has nothing to do with his policies which mostly he can't get enacted. It about him being that Nigger in the White House. Sorry the word has to be used. Anyway scroll down, and see what that Black kid back in Little Rock got just for going to a white school.
This shit on Obama is the same thing writ large. "That damned darkie had the nerve to sit in the white mans Place!" "Well he'll pay for that."
I wish this was a straw-man I was poking at. It ain't. It actually 'is' that primal, that racist.
We knew there'd be a backlash, and here it is. It's worse than I expected. Like I said somewhere. If the President Obama manages to stay alive. I mean just that, only that.
Forget the politics.
If he can get out of town in one piece in 2012 then I'd call his administration a success.
Such is the true state of the Union.
Okay, okay I'll really try to find something positive to post next time,..honest.
"Millennium" was one of the best written tv programs of the 1990's. It was the "Torchwood" of it's time only much more. It didn't need aliens or cheeky humor to work. Google it. It's painfully relevant to our times.
Get the collected DVD set.
In particular get the 'second' season. The first though excellent is mostly the hunting of serial killers. The the third, and last has different writers with no connection with the original themes.
The second season is Gold.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
First I read the piece about the cops in Detroit that invaded a home. This after throwing in a flash bomb. Then they shot a seven year old girl. Aiyana Stanley-Jones. The kid was burned by the bomb then shot.
Are you crazy of course she was Black.
No I won't show her picture. Let her rest in peace.
I hear now that a video shows that the cops shot up the house first. Aiyana was laying on a couch, and got burned when the grenade came through the window.
She may have been shot by the bullets that came flying through the wall or when the cops came in shooting.
They terrorized, and roughed up the family. The folks committed no crime. The person the cops was stalking wasn't there,..never was. Just another day in a poor American neighborhood.
Anyway like a dummy I keeps reading, and finds that the demented far right,..as opposed to the profoundly insane extreme left is about to take over the country. 'Least that's how the November elections are shape'n up.
The Republican party is now completely overrun by the lunatic fringe of it's right flank.
This reminds me of what a State Department officer told Roosevelt just before the war about the Nazi's.
"If these guys were here they'd be in nut houses, but over there they're the government."
Ah the Good Old Days.
I have complete faith in the gross stupidity of the American voter. I expect them to hand both Houses of the Government of the United States to the lunatic dominated Republican Party.
I expect them to hand the White House to them in 2012.
Btw I expect the generally clueless though well meaning Liberal Democratic voters to stay home playing computer games, and acting like retards on twitter.
Wait it gets worse.
"Lost" is going off the air, and "Torchwood" may never come back!
I'm thinking of joining a New Jersey UFO cult. Their t-shirts are far out! There's this retired Air Force guy that's got a hunk off a for real flying saucer in his garage. Once a month a bunch of folks go over to his place to worship it.
What the heck this'll give me something to do as Jesusland is officially established.
PAY UP OR GET OUT!
Although the D.H.S. is back tracking now that it's gone public. Department of Homeless Services Commissioner Seth Diamond still thinks it would make good financial sense to take money from the poorest of the poor.
The Homeless sez the D.H.S. must hand over the few bucks that they make from odd jobs or begging on the street. This for the privilege of living in the hell holes that are set aside for them. The City want to charge rent against the people surviving in the Homeless Shelters.
Dickens would have recognized this.
Get this. They want to charge those who've managed to hold on to their full times jobs $900. bucks for their stay in the city's Lice Palaces.
That would have been me last year.
Seems this law has been on the books since 1980's during the Koch administration. That was early in the history of the American Homeless Culture. Well it's 30 years later, and Underclass is a solid, and I fear now permanent part of the land of the free.
The government's reconsidering now, but this will only last as long as the media shines a light on these heartless administrators. They'll make another play to strip the poor of their tiny savings as soon as things cool off.
This has happened before. From time to time the System makes a play at the very poor. Like sharks.
Mr. Mayor, and Commissioner Diamond you guys better 'hope' there's no gawd upstairs. Especially not that Old Testament judge'n punishing maniac.
I recall a broadcast commentator, yeah on WBAI, years ago saying to a city official,
"...why don't you just kill them." (..the poor)
"It would be much more charitable than the slow torture you're currently inflicting."
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I had a dream last night that I was walking through an American history museum. As in dreams some things were in sharp relief others blurred, and uncertain.
It seems I'd slipped into a timeline in which the American Revolution failed. Completely failed, and Crown authority was restored.
Restored with a Bloody Vengeance.
I saw behind glass cases of this once removed history period illustrations of the "Patriot" leadership hanged, drawn, and quartered. Washington, Franklyn, Jefferson the whole lot. Publicly disemboweled to the cheers of the Loyalist crowds.
A grand painting of Philadelphia, home of Congress, being burned. The monuments of the fledgling Republic hauled down.
Mass bonfires of the Stars, and Stripes. Wagon loads of treasonous documents like the Articles of Confederation, drafts of the Constitution, and seditious books like Paine's "Common Sense" also cast into Royalist fires.
Remember though I was in a museum of the present day. The 2010 of this other history. The exhibits were as you would see in any museum. All of the blood, and horror was nearly 240 years past.
The flaming end of our Republic was presented in paintings, lithographs, and dioramas. All of which were professionally lit, tidy, and impersonally historic.
The impersonal distance of history. Do many dwell on the individuals depicted in illustrations of the Saint Bartholomew's Day massacre? How good it is to be centuries away from such matters.
However 'this' history was, at least for me, a nightmare.
I do remember that the King promised freedom to those Black Slaves that fought for him. That and an "eventual" ending of slavery in general.
Yeah right George I ain't holding my breath on that one.
If I had more control of this dream I would have looked for the historic painting of the Black Red Coats, and their family's getting their Freedom.
This assuming that the Crown didn't renege, and toss their loyal Nubians back into chains.
Btw from what I can remember the other patrons around me seemed like the usual suspects you'd see in any museum or art gallery.
I did see some soldiers that were dressed in odd uniforms. It was regular G.I., but maroon in color, and with gold braid. A mix of 21st, and 18th century kit.
A strange, and interesting history.
It could have happened too. Just a few more stupid mistakes in the right places, and we'd be Crown Subjects.
...at least we'd have National Health.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
The above snaps are random page stuffers. I was out today'n tonight, and took some tourist pictures. I was too hot, and generally emotionally too nuts to do anything arty.
It was a long, long day filled with laundry, shopping, bill paying, and all sorts of blessedly normal routines.
Hope everybody out there is okay, and getting on with it. As for me I'm turning in early.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Ain't really slept since I wandered out into the rain a few nights ago. Oh yeah a moments nap here'n there, but no real sleep. Well I did fall off in the News Room for three hours after midnight. I feel kind'a refreshed now.
That's why I like my job. No one disturbed me. I'm their elder Radio Uncle, and they let me rest. Sort of like when 'your' Uncle used to come over for Sunday dinner, and dozed off in the living room comfy chair. That, and ya Mommy would say not to make any noise while Unkkie was passed out.
Wow, well I've aged into that Respected Position. The youngsters let me sleep.
I just got an email from our national office out on the coast. Seems they want to promote me into something. I don't know. I don't trust them loons out there.
They want a new logo, and think getting me to do it will cost less. Swell, thanks guys. I'll let ya know what happens.
Btw I did delete that post about me, and my sister. No she didn't ask me to. I just had second thoughts about slapping that kind of stuff up here. I think all that noise about trolls invading Facebook, and mining it for personal data made me cautious.
Mind you they wouldn't get much from me, but still.
It's a chilly, rainy morning here in the Emerald City. Perfect day for a bit of shopping, and a movie. 'Last time I tried this someone tried to blow up Times Square. Maybe things will be quiet this time.
Speaking of food.
One of my listeners suggested I use a bamboo steamer instead of that slow cooker thing I'm so in love with. Humm, maybe. He said while the slow cooker kept all the flavor, the bamboo cooker keeps all the vitamins. Something to consider at my advanced age.
(I do a radio program. See WBAI archives in the links. Go to "Carrier Wave" Monday May 10th,..Thrills, and Spills.)
On the other hand I'm tempted to go off the healthy food wagon, and go back to Chinese, and Paki fast food,..ummmm! Yummie!! It's the small unhealthy things that make life worth it.
On the other, other hand I also thought about scoring some dangerous drugs. Yeah my doc said it'd kill me, but I thought about it anyway. Ahhh, the old daze! Don't worry I won't do it. Besides my connection died long ago, and his connections are either retired or doing life somewhere.
Kind'a puts a crimp on the party, but oh the memories.
Anyway it was a thought. I guess it's just the ennui of our slow motion Planetary Apocalypse that has me in this frame of desire.
Aw well, it's just another day here in the Future.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
This is a 1981 film by Adrian Marthaler. Comrades I swear George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" is the best piece of American music written is the past century. Perhaps second only to anything by Little Richard.
If the Emerald City ever finally becomes the 51st State or a Republic like Singapore. Our wordless national anthem would 'have' to be "Rhapsody on Blue". Our national song would 'have' to be "Louie Louie",...Patti Smith sings this at the bottom of the set.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
For some years now popular culture has been promoting the notion that's it cool to be a Vampire. Ya know young forever, party, party, party, and murdering people. No mention of handing over your immortal soul to to the Prince of Hades.
That, and doing back strokes in the Lake of Fire for eternity.
I understand that youngsters these days have taken to cutting themselves, and sucking each others blood. There are rumors of few cases of HIV have come of these hyjinks. To say nothing of them scary cases of dismemberment at Vampire parties that got a tad out of control.
Mind you I'm not against people drinking blood, and devouring flesh. I likes a medium rare steak as much as the next carnivore. It's just that the fads of this not so new century gives me the willies.
TV shows, comic books, computer games, and all manner of cyber hell praising, and promoting this happy blood stained mayhem. Makes one nostalgic for the days when everybody wanted to be an Angel.
Remember that? About 20 years ago Angels were all the rage. Heck I was into it too. I even had the whole VHS set of "Touched by an Angel".
Ah well, wonder what's coming next.
A fun loving, heart of gold SERIAL KILLER. I gotta admit though I like Dexter. He only butchers people that deserve it. Who of us hasn't dreamed of doing that!?
I remember being horrified when I saw the first huge bus, and train posters for "Dexter". That's it I thought. The Culture of Death" has won. I felt worse than when I saw the ads for "Lost Boys".
Remember that one, "Live Forever, Party, Drink Blood", swell.
However there I was watching Dexter torture, and grind up human beings, and was enjoying it. The damned thing is in it's fifth season too! If I was still a good Catholic boy I'd say that the Devil can assume forms that please.
Well maybe he does all I know is this shit stinks.
No not censorship,..never that.
I'm just watching where the culture is going is all. It ain't healthy. It's seductive, fun, and wonderfully sinful. What's not to like.
I dunno. It just seem so old testament wrong if ya gets my drift. I keep expecting to hear thunder, and the roar of a flood.
(Some of Dexter's Kills,...caution okay.)
I was stranded in waste deep anxious wakefulness last night. so I got on the subway at 2:00am, and came to town. I had a pizza in Times Square, wandered eighth avenue. Not as deadly or interesting as it used to be. Which I will admit is a good thing, but still.
I miss the all night porn shops where I could get the demented dreams of my choice above or usually below the counter,..in vivid color too.
It was cold, and raining like hell, but I loved it.
Before I left the house I was watching this movie on 13, the local public station. "New Orleans Mon Amour". Wow. Love in the ruins indeed. It was was an indie starring a bunch of nice young actors.
The "name" guy or mainstream star was the fella that played the Doctor in "Doctor Who" two doctors ago. 'Always liked him, but don't remember his name,...figures. He does all that neat work, and his name evaporates.
...wait, wait I remember the guy now.
Eccleston, right Christopher Eccleston!
Anyway I eventually ended up at the radio station, WBAI. That place is my second, and at times primary home. Been there 31 years. Most of my generation from there is either stiff in the mud or happy grandparents now.
Oh the adventures we had! Scary politics, techie hyjinks, swell drugs, and sex now'n then. Even almost won a bunch of awards. As for now,..well.
Well I'm just living is all. I miss the old daze, and my old pals. The station, like the Navy,..that's another story, goes on forever. Something always needs fixing or my voice is needed for this or that. It's a life.
On the other hand something from that movie, "New Orleans Mon Amour". Someone in all that mayhem of a sunken city, and complicated relationships said,
"...what is the past good for."
"All that damage, and dead weight."
"Throw it away."
Them lines is what got me out of the house. Got me out to wander the rainy canyons of the Emerald City". I stumbled about wondering which bits of my screwed up past to dump.
Oh how I love my pain. 'Don't we all. Our memories of hell. How could I ever part with any of it.
Well like I sez I went, and had some pizza. I sat'n stared out into the wet purgatory of another pharmaceutical night.
Aw crap, this scans like the opening to that Woody Allen film "Manhattan". Only unlike him I didn't mean this post as comedy.
("New Orleans Mon Amour")
Monday, May 10, 2010
I remember Penn Station. It's where where my Uncles came back from WW2, and Korea. It's where my Mommy came to New York. It's where my cousin older Jimmy took me for hot dogs.
Funny what you remember. I clearly recall the amber glass vaults that seemed miles above me. They were amber because they hadn't been cleaned since the late 1930's. What with the Depression, and then the War window washing was put on long term hold.
My gawd it was big, and not just to the knee high lad I was. Look at the images. Good grief. Which brings me the the question of how anyone could knock all this majesty down to make room for a glorified basketball court.
I could now launch into a deranged rant about how Robert Moses should be brought back from the dead, and tried for crimes against the Emerald City. Okay, okay, he built a bunch of swell stuff. However he destroyed many of the wonders of the city.
Google the bastard.
However Penn Station oh my! Speaking of wonders. In ancient times it would have been considered one of the 'true' Wonders of the world. Up there with the Valley of the Kings!
I still see it in my minds eye, and I miss it. I miss the Twin Towers too, but I never loved them,...no one did. However those of an age 'all' loved Penn Station.
Thing is though both the Towers, and Penn Station were destroyed by fanatical, vain, heartless megalomaniacs. Only in the case of Penn Station that deranged loon had better lawyers.
I was reading a comic book, whose title, and author I forget. Anyway it dealt with lost monuments. It told the story that not only living beings, but objects have afterlives. In this other Heaven were all the great lost works of humanity.
The Library of Alexandria, the Colossus of Rhodes, the Twin Towers, and yes,...Penn Station among other lost treasures.
How about that.
Interesting, I like the idea that stuff, and not just folks have a happy hunting grounds to go to. Sort of like Dog Heaven if ya follow me.
The up side of this mayhem is that as soon as we lost it we realized what an atrocity blowing up Penn Station was. There are now limits, though weak, on what deranged powerful individuals, and run amok capital can destroy.