"...fort sumter"

"November 4th 2020"

 

 

"...years"

 

All those years. All we lived all we did was it a dream? Did these really happen? I wonder because so many souls I loved so many kindly groups, and places I knew have passed away.

'But then I realized yes these happened we were there we did them, and we remember. We not only watched that history, but we also made some of it."

"...Samhain"

Last night, and tonight we observe Samhain. Halloween. Nights when the separation between worlds are thinnest. The notion of other realms invisible to us that become apparent on just these nights. Some say spirits roam free,...perhaps. Last night I dreamt of passed family, and friends. Sights of my childhood home. Time space disjointed. Decades in moments seconds in days.

A safe, and Blessed Samhain to you all.

 

"...Seas of Tranquility"

Our Brooklyn Moon tonight.

With Oceans.

 

 

"...simple gifts"

 

"...wonder"

 

I forgot to mention.

Through the years I often posted here guest editorials reports from the front, and assorted swell art from the readers. We had us a ball.

I sometimes now wonder...all we lived all we did was it a dream? Did these really happen? I wonder because so many souls I loved so many kindly groups, and places have passed away.

A friend from those times just told me, "...Yes. These happened we were there we did them, and we remember. We not only watched that history, but we also made some of it."

"...Online News"

Just a note. I will keep posting here at Blogsplot. Till they're sold or broke up. This though my readership is low double digits. Gone are the daze when my pages here would get a quarter million unique hits. Btw that's 1930's pocket change by todays standards for a page. 

There are just so many other options platforms now. This place is akin to Myspace or a telegraph office. I just checked...amazingly both of these institutions still exist.

Geez even my Tumblr mirror site gets hundreds a day. My FB page gets sometimes 20 to 60 comments per post. Even this is vastly tiny to what near everyone gets on twitter. Hint the entire population of the Earth is on Twitter...and I hate Twitter.

When I say mirror. I post most not all of what I post here. My other three pages have roughly 60% unique material, but in the same grumpy style. However this one is the only one I do Queer things on. I learned by experience there's no point elsewhere. It just gets coldly ignored or the other extreme death threats. 'And no that's not always policed by the platforms. ...Swell. 

Anyway I'm staying here, and the other few sites still I have on Smogsplot. ...see links on upper right. 'Sides my best pals are here. Okay yeah I ain't been to most of them other Plopspot pages since the Pandemic...mostly. 'But I do put something up once in a while. Hey gimme a break I'm old now. 

So Happy Halloween eat do drugs, and drink heavily. As this is the start of the 2020 End Times Holidaze. I wish I could do speed balls till the election is over. 

However I'll have to settle for sugarless Apple pie graced with equally sugarless Cool Whip,...thanks Sharon. Loves ya!

So as Holden Caufield said as he climbed out that window, and escaped from school, "...Sleep tight ya Meatheads!"

Here below is a piece on 'Zines.

This is how all this started for me . I first writing drawing, and printing. "Micro Press" items in the early 1970's. Mimeo woodcuts Xerox then offset. 

The term 'Zine hadn't be coined yet. 

I did 'Zines was then on the air for decades later online then pods then back online. The whole arc only took 48 years. So easy even a stoned Queer Anarchist could do it.

See video below...This is how kids do it today.

In my day the early 70's there were riots a major war still going on. National Guard tanks in the streets. Queers starting to kick ass. We were all just Queers among Queers. 

Fags, and Dykes hadn't segregated yet. Trannies leather folks BL's were just part of the crew. No onw gave them shit for being alive yet. 

Marriage was seen as men owning women, and we wanted to abolish the whole male war slavery nightmare. Our Micro press 'Zine stuff gleefully chronicled all that happy noise.

Today we've joined the slave market with big happy smiles on our faces while doing so. Amazing what only 50 years can do.

Stay tuned.

 

"...Victoria super malum"

 

VICTORY OVER EVIL.

 

"...מלאכים מגנים עלינו."

מלאכים מגנים עלינו.

Angels protect us.

 

"...9,000,000+"

 

Yesterday Thursday October 29th 2020 the number of Pandemic cases in this republic exceeded 9,000,000+. Today's cases...that is for just today is more than 90,000+. 230,004 have perished in the last seven months. 1,004 have died today.

The president's eldest son told Fox News on Thursday night that the U.S. had "gotten control" of the virus.

He further claimed that "deaths are now almost nothing."

(Microsoft news)

Vote.

 

"...30 years"

I recently found my Barbie Bride doll.

She'd been in a stasis box for some years.

'Asked if anything happened since 2009.

Um,...I said she should ask Bob da Bunny.

When Bob got to the parts about

The Race Riots, and Murder Hornets

She headed back to her box.

She said.

Wake me in 30 years.

Or when they invent fault free marriage.

Whichever comes first.

 

"...Hopeful"

Everywhere Quiet.

Like the eve of a deciding battle.

We're prepared, and Hopeful.

 

 

"...Our Lady of Autumn"

 

"...gleeful"

My Harry Potter Ron Doll

Falling through time, and space

on purpose.

Sometimes I really miss being Queer.

I mean a gleeful Queer

among Queers.

We had us one Hell of a swell Time.

 

 

"...vote"

I did by Mail.

Three Weeks Ago.

Remember Early, and Often.

 

"...VOTE"

We are in the darkest days of Gotham.

However instead of some awaited champion.

It turns out

That we each of us is a Superhero.

VOTE!

 

 

"...Dust"

A few observations from my pandemic pod.

Dust the Great Mystery. It has been referred to in literature theology, and Better Homes, and Gardens. Where does it come from, and why does it keep coming? We’ve fought endless battles against it through the ages. I suspect it has dark matter origins. 

“…Is a Puzzlement”.

Life in our Pods. Besides sweeping mopping, and dusting my digs there’s Comforts.  We should always be good to others,…or try to be. We should then be nice to ourselves,…makes sense.  

I eyed pastries at market. ‘Tempted as heck to binge. Bad idea…been there. Immediate scary events always follow. So moderation, and care. Still one dreams. …I got a sugarless cupcake.

Also I’ve run out of bad TV series, and movies to binge online. That, and I might have another useless Liberal Arts degree. This from all the lectures I’ve watched. Like viewing all the videos by standup comedians. …which I’ve done. You start to notice that academic lecturers keep using twists on their same old materials. Dammit everything is a scam! 

In Other News,…

The republic has a clear choice between Evil, and Boredom. I’m going with Boredom,…at least at first. If Grandpa Joe gets in it’s a start. We’ll work out repairs to the nation from there. 

Mind you my anxieties are as Mr. Spock so often said, “…Off the scale.” 'And not in a nice way.

There are books plays films essays perhaps symphonies or even retro rock operas coming out of this era. I call it the “Trump Discontinuity”. If he’s removed it’ll be a “Restoration”. Hey I’m a Drama Queen…I like this sort of historical scribbling. Adds to the fun of it. If he’s ousted a new drama begins. If he stays the Republic will endure yet more wounds. 

Mean time we’re still here, and trying to do the right thing.

Love ya. 

 

"...work"

Pray for Sanity, and Kindness.

Then Work like Hell for it!

 

"...I'm gonna sue"

Despite my objections 2020 continues.

Of course I shall file an appeal.

 

"...speaking of space news"

 

Uncle Sid is on Mars! 

Sez Uncle, "...Holy Fuck!"

When asked to elaborate Uncle said as to how surprised he was that the Subway went all the way to Mars. This radio-phoned from our courageous Uncle,...

 "...The air is so fresh here on Mars. ...smells like expensive deodorant. It's also much warmer than expected."

Our confused though much pleased Uncle went on, "...I found some seashells too!"

More later on this story of discovery. 

"...dust"

In 1972, Astronaut Charlie Duke left a photograph on the Moon.

It was a simple color snapshot of his family.

Thinking about it if I went there I'd leave a Dr. Pepper bottle.

...with a note in it.

Basically a general apology from our species.

This for everything we've done, and are about to do the the world.

To the Earth, and to the rest of the System.

The gesture just seems right.

 

"...In Local News"

"The Strand!"

Long may she wave.

For you radio fans out there.

My dear pal in broadcast

The late Tom Wisker worked here for years.

He was fun to be around.

Either at the radio station or the book store.

He knew everything.

If you live in the City 

Give the Strand all your money.

 As fast as possible.

 

 

"...Loyal Yanks"

Zillions of good'n loyal Yanks

sing to Vote that evil shithead Away!

See below, and sing along.

 

 

"...live"

We live one day, and one dream at a time.

 

"...225,000"

Today 83,010 new cases of the COVID Virus were reported.

There are about 1000 deaths a day…give or take. 225,000 perished in this Republic in eight months. This is our new normal.

It just goes on as plagues do. Upside this is still the 21st century so a vaccine is coming. Last time 1918 we had to ride it out on our own. Across the country the human story continues.

Family members friends get sick die or are traumatized.

Medical workers from surgeons to orderlies are working heroically at great cost to themselves, and their families. A political party a TV network, and our head of state combine to deny the seriousness of the entire experience.

There has yet from that individual or those institutions in near a year come a mention of national condolence. No statement or national memorial. Nor any sincere encouragements.

Our national trauma has yet to be officially acknowledged from the highest office. This leaves us emotionally adrift in this sea of apprehension, and mourning.

One day this will end as it did before.

Last time 1918. That event that pandemic was culturally forgotten. The only marks a paragraph or two. A footnote with a few grainy photographs in some, but not all history books. This time we need to remember. We need to acknowledge what this was, and why it was allowed to become so overwhelming,…and by who.

 

"...breathing"

If he were still breathing.

Timothy Leary would be 100 today.

Richard Nixon called him

"The Most dangerous man in America."

So he was fine by me.

 

 

"...colors"

Went to the park

with an old doll friend the other day.

The colors are finally here.

 

"...life"

Sez Bob da Bunny.

"No matter what happens

we'll be good we'll be okay."

"We have each other we have laffs we have life."

 

 

"...This is the World Libertarians Want"

 

In the near future we will be run down,

and killed by sexy lesbian killer cops on Hyper-Bikes.

Sure it'll be hell, but cool at the same time.

"...This is the World Liberals Want"

 

~Blessed Saint Jampa of the Snows~

(Jampa Tibetan for Loving Kindness.)

Consider this my home made Holy Card.

This for the Feasts of saints Ralph Chubb, and Harry Hay.

"...drafts"

Inspiration is a memory of the future.

But to bring it into the world.

An approximation of an approximation.

Dunne's Holy Sonnets before the 2nd drafts.

Ginsberg's Howl as he actually heard it.

Van Gogh's Starry Night as he really saw it.

James Baldwin's sermons essays if he were free.

"...morphine"

 "Two years ago today"

Act One Triage.

If an injury is possible it's here.

A prisoner cuffed to a gurney opposite me. A patrolman at his side. Grunts of the urban wars. Being soldiers they have much in common. So they spoke not of rage, but cars sports family, and the Army.

Iraq vets both.

Act Two Observation.

A pod of ten beds with flat screens floating above them. They limit meds. The Opioid Crisis. I watched hours of "The Walking Dead" to cheer myself up.

New Years Eve.

Our doctor played the ukulele, and sang to us.

Angels everywhere.

Act Three Treatment.

Assorted scary truths presented. The 'real' hospital begins. Here they keep all the knives, and saws. I'm pried injected drained poked x-rayed MRI's, and Sonogramed. I'm still not pregnant.

Act Four The Operating Theatre.

Walls ceilings flyby. Muted voices. Then so bright so cold so quick.

At some point my veins stopped working, and they had to go digging into my arteries for blood. That was the only fun part.

Act Five Post-Op.

A blur. Sleep. Deep sleep.

I think I remember nurses doctors speaking to me or maybe I dreamed them. Voices, "...does anybody have the keys to the narcotics locker?" Eventually I'm Medevac'd to my digs.

Act Six.

Home. ..."There, and Back Again"

Loves that phrase from "Lord of the Rings". It's just so handy.

I now wander about in a waking dream state,...which is how I'm writing this. Oh life you are so miraculous so terrible so short.

I really want some pizza.

"...aw shit"

"Oh Fuck All This Shit"

 

"...oh foc"

Four things intruded on me while looking for more model airplane videos. The Pope is kinda okay with gay marriage which got him over 5000 death threats from America. #45 has a Chinese bank account, and paid them $200,000. in taxes.

He paid $750 bucks here.

The FBI sez Iran, and Russia are working overtime to fuck up our election. Also the COVID death rate may double by the end of the year to near 400,000. All this just this afternoon.

2020 is Hell on greased skates.

 

"...Robby Rocks"

 

The Rev. John Baptiste or Uncle J.B. as we called him.

He got the calling in his middle years after a long bout with drink. Stayed a preacher till he was either 98 or 102 still don't know. Gave one of his fiery sermons the Sunday before his passing.

Maybe I could start my own sort of store front mayhem.

Uncle would really dig that. The family would not be surprised.

Drama Queenery is deep in my bones.

"Uncle Syd's First Church Bewildering Amazement".

All Welcome!

Come as ya are!

This as them Spirits sez. Pets welcome too!

Also always looking for local bands, and magic acts to liven things up. Volunteer nurses will assist the congregation if Angels or any other spooks happen to show up.

Maybe I should get a bus.

Go on da road. Preach the word of just being nice for a change. Ya know laughs loud music bad poetry, and spicy food for a change. What could go wrong?