"Attitude"

'...but in a 'nice' way.

"...just hang'n out"

I always wondered how our cultural g-ds, our super heros would handle real world problems. What would they do about gangs, criminal politicians or the Taliban.

I remember a comic book from back in the 1950's somewhere. The title was something like,..."Murderer stalks City!"

Right, today it's more like "Thousands of Deranged Heavily Armed Maniacs Blast City". What the heck would Superman have done in NYC in 1993. That year 3000+ people were shot, stabbed, hacked, burned or clubbed to death.

This doesn't count the wounded, raped, robbed, and emotionally traumatized.

Yeah it's slightly better now. Chicago is the murder capital today. Still what the hell would a super hero do with a culture in terminal melt down.

Perhaps like Doctor Manhattan from the "Watchmen" series he'd just leave. Go to another world, and live in peace.

Sorry I got no big moral here. I was thinking about this is all. So you're a super hero at home watching the news. Watching this awful mayhem.

Like that kid that was beaten to death for no reason in a Chicago school yard. Many watched, but no one saved him,...they did video the killing on their phones though.

His cruel death just part of the spectacle.

At this point If I thought it would do any good I'd pray.

"Sweet Dreams"

I keep dreaming of my childhood home, and my parents,..mostly my Dad. Odd that since he so rarely makes any appearances in my Dream Time. The good news is that these aren't nightmares.

It's all just the usual surreal stew most dreams bring.

Oh did I mention? National Health is once more a very dead issue in this country. No Public Option in the Bill. This means that the far right, and the Insurance Industry have won,...again.

There will be no 'real change' for working people. The poor are fucked, the middle class will scrape by, and the well off are as always just fine.

Aw well. Maybe someone will try again in 50 years or so.

"Rough Daze"

I feel nuts today. Actually I've been off for about a week. I have a free floating anxiety seasoned with depression. Like I told a friend recently these problems are only suffered by those still employed or housed.

If you're on the outside, no home or job you really don't have time for these sorts of emotional luxuries. This is actually true, In my months of dispossession I was never upset or angry.

Surviving was my only job.

Perhaps as I mention below I'm beginning to heal from that experience. Tinkering to scale models, and uncertain emotional anguish are good signs of normality!

On the other hand as I also told my friend. Part of me want to go back out on the street. Yes most irrational. Still I feel it. As dangerous, and terrible as it was,...it didn't hurt as much as "normality" does.

Life is a strange business.

"Signs"

I kind'a like the two snaps of myself above. It shows that the Meds are working. My don't I look peaceful, and sedated? Well that, and building, and or collecting model aircraft again.

I really should get to work on them ship models I have put away, with assorted other relics of my former worlds. Signs, signs of life, feeble though they are seem to be returning.

Somewhat.

I've been doing more tinkering on my little home. More silicon pasting in this or that crack or gap. My plan is for when the Emergency med teams shows up to scrape me off the floor, and stuff me into the meat wagon. When they shows up they at once say, "...Wow! What a tidy flat."

They'll then roll me into a plastic bag, and drive me to one of them Mob black market organ banks. My liver, eyeballs, and various naughty bit will live again.

Where was I?

Right, that bastard Obama has conned us big time. Comrades remember why we elected him?! 'End them pointless wars, and get us some National Health,...among other civilized goodies most western countries have had for over half a century.

So now I understands that we have to 'buy' some sort of useless insurance that we couldn't afford in the first place. If we don't we'll all be fined $10,000 or something insane like that.

So after all this static, and noise we still can't afford insurance, but now we're in debt to the Feds for K-Bucks! Somehow I don't feel better off.

Btw we're still at war, and it's going to get worse.

You bet I'm sedated.

"Cameo'n Cream!"

No this doesn't make any sense,...so what!

"Another Brooklyn Morning"

(Click on all snaps above, and below for a swell eyeful!)

I got up at 3 this morning was restless so went out. Though on "vacation" I dropped by wbai.org where I've worked for decades to see what was up. You should know that that place is not a job, but a way of life. You understand how it is.

Anyway my pal up there Ibrahim Gonzolas was on the air doing his overnight program. It's called "In the Moment",...cute huh? He reads chapters of books, takes calls all that. Hey this is a literate town. Folks call up to chat about the book of the night, and the usual mayhem of the city.

Ibrahim is also a musician, and often has live bands up. Eh, which is fun unless you have to engineer them. I don't know why, but musician are a pain in the butt. They're always coming into my control room to bother me about this or that tweaking of their stuff.

What's really going on is that they're getting a free demo disc out of their appearance, and they want me to customize it for them,...for free. I've told more than one of these characters that if they want to pay me $300 bucks an hour, one of the going rates, I'd be happy to give them a pro-disc otherwise bleep off I'm working.

I used to be nicer when I was younger. However I got tired of being treated as a mark. Again you know how that is.

Anyway at sun up Ibrahim'n me went to the pier just outside our station, and watched the sun come up over Brooklyn. Eh that's what's left of me in the 'Bai t-shirt.












































Above are some snaps from this morning of our beloved bridge that connects us to the land of Walt Whitman. Well to the building that used to be the "Brooklyn Eagle" where he worked.

They gave him the sack because he was a radical abolitionist,...he thought slavery was a bad idea, imagine. It's still there, the Eagle building, on the Bklyn side of the bridge.

So btw is the house Uncle Walt lived in for a while.

It's not far from the ferry landing under what later became the Brooklyn Bridge. Btw that ferry landing was closed for about 70 or so years till 9/11 when it was opened to get folks the hell off of Manhattan Island which was under attack by Islamic nutjobs.

This as opposed to the CIA, the Vatican or the Knights Templar. Bush, Cheney is somewhere in that mix. I could certainly see Cheney doing it, but Bush? Gimme a Break!

The only conspiracies I buy are the ones that say that Big Oil, and the Mafia killed both Kennedy's. That, and the Mob, and the Church are the reason that the 2nd Avenue subway hasn't been finish in nearly a century.

It was started in the 1920's,...over eighty years ago. They now say it may open sometime in the 2030's. That would make 110 years. That's just about how long it will take to put up the Ground Zero memorials, and new towers.

Again the Mob, and the Church,...but that's just my theory on 'these' obvious inside jobs.

Almost forgot. The cabbie, the last shot above. I was taking pictures under the bridge, and he asked me what the bleep I was up too. I told him I was working on my blog, and asked if he wanted to be in it.

He said no, and sped off.

Guess he's wanted in Tehran or Islamabad. Seemed a nice guy though.

"What's a Mother to do?'

(My concierge Madam Yuki admires my floors.)

Can you get sent to hell for your house being 'too' clean? Ever since I moved into my happy little home I've spent most of my time cleaning, and polishing it.

Especially the floors.

Mostly the floors. The damned thing is as smooth, shiny, and slippery as glass though not as brittle,...yet. Now, and then I put in a bit more silicone compound along the floor, baseboard join. Bugs ya know.

Of which I have none, no mices either. Yeah in a NYC apartment too!

My place is as sealed as a submarine. What the contractors missed I gleefully filled in. However that's not the point. The point is my floors which have become a fetish for me.

The wood is nearly a century old, but was sealed under a profoundly hideous layer of green, and yellow tiles since the 1950's. Both I, and my contractors we amazed at how well preserved it all was.

Thank gawd for 1950's bad taste!

I polish my digs end to end several times a week. Well okay not as much lately, but If a week goes by without me hose'n the place down with "Mop'n Glo" I think I'm letting the place go bad.

Yes this 'is' nuts.

Especially considering how I 'used' to live. As the sainted Quentin Crisp is alleged to have said,..."Never clean your flat. After two or three years it won't get any worse."

Amazingly this is TRUE!















(Saint Quentin as a sweet young thing.)

This is where I name drop. Yeah like most of the Manhattan art, and or Queer crowd I knew Quentin. I loved this sweet gentle soul. I'd run into him when he came to our radio station, wbai.org, for this or that adventure.

I talk about all that on other blogs. Thing is I was in all sorts of extreme emotional circumstances just before my time as a Houseless person. My response was not being as tidy in my former house.

Seriously yucky.

However I've gone to the 'other' extreme now. Like them folks that washes their hands 50 times a day.

So am I going to hell or what?