"...The Madness of Angels"

Another issue from my Journals. This from 2017.

Beware inking down of your dreams. They'll either end up in some future holy scripture, and or as evidence at your trial. This runs through my mind as I try to make a kind of coherent sense of my dreams of late. Dreams enhanced by the pharmacology of Emerald City health-care.

Long may they dispense.

To the matter. Time is not linear, and space warps. The damned thing stretches contracts, and twists. Like origami on crack whiskey, and pastries.

I mean just ask Niels Bohr,...he'll give you an earful.

My nausea simmers my vision jump cuts. My hearing enhanced painfully so. I have never had the pleasure of chemical withdrawal. I'm not sure I recommend it.

However the Dreams.

They in their wonder grotesque horror, and frightful majesty. (...same could be said of the recent Marvel movies.) All this noise to direct our short battered lives. Blessed are they that have no memory of theirs.

Just emerged from a mist where it was made plain in the vagueness of that realm that no you ain't from here. Neither is your family. Not your line nor the lines of many others.

Elsewhere, and Else-when.

I wonder if the "Twilight Zone" was not just an entertainment, but a message.

A "Cook Book".

"Not Just". That, and all the other strange stories wonderings, and essays. These that the "different" keep writing, and putting before our eyes.

Pain.

Pain for many days. Confusions. That, and my coming here to you. My family my friends all I have in the world. My digital "Hearth, and Home". If done right these platforms of meeting could be such a miracle. It is, but could be so much more. ...just needs a bit more heart, and introspection.

I'm not from here?

Well that would confirm certain oddities from early childhood. Hearing singing as I fell to sleep. Seeing the sky as different colors from what I was told it was. Remembering sight of the Earth from far above, and away. I saw, in dreams?, our cloud covered home as we see it now. I saw it as it really is before there was the evidence of science.

"I'm sorry,...what the fuck is going on?

Not from here.

...Some elsewhere else-when. Now my eyes hurt. Those that have issues know how pain is fluid. It likes to move. It is the ultimate tourist at home. I'm intermittently grateful. This for making me aware. For helping me endure life sharply, and perhaps more respectfully.

My nausea meds seem also intermittent.

Not too much information. I'm sharing the full Monty as pals should. Soup. Hot soup, and a used DVD. Through the ages these have been known to calm the mad cure the lame, and halt, and just bleeping chill you the bleep out.

Be back soon.

(...About the title. I'm no Angel. No one is. Well not all the time. An Angel as I've found is an act. A verb not a noun. We become Angels of the moment by our works, and example. Pass the popcorn...no butter thanks I have to be careful now.)

 

"...Comfort"

 

Another item from my Pandemic Journal.

This from a year ago today.

The Virus could kill as many as 200k persons.

This the best case scenario.

One Million if we stay as we are.

Or so real world virologists are saying despite #45.

The real butcher's bill will come out in the middle.

*(...and it did.)

This has had an effect on my view of the future.

I fear for my family friends even myself.

This is as real as it can get.

Many reading this including ourselves 

may not be here a year from now.

*(Six died in my building. 38 in the surrounding blocks.)

*We were in an early hot spot.

I'm stocking up on Chocolates, and diet Pepsi 

for the final act if it comes. Oddly everything but sweets 

is in short supply.

We are in a history culture changing moment, 

and need to act like it.

There's the USNHS-Comfort.

She entered the Emerald City harbor this evening.

She is very welcome.

"...dolls"

Two of the dolls that live with me.

Have so for maybe 14 years.

Some others for longer.

Tink above has been with me the longest.

I adopted her from a Disney Store.

This near 30 years ago.

Early 1990's.

She's as battered, and mended as much as I am.

 

"...life"

 

"...lives"

What I saw did, and experienced in my 70 years. Has told me told me with certainty. Certainty. That we are all heroes all brave all holy in our unique ways. Recognized or not honored or not we are. Life,...human life is hard. We all the lot of us are notable for just living it, and being it. With that I'm going to sleep.

 

"...heaven"

In a post further down.

I suggest folks make paper doll houses.

See above these are fun to do.

Also you go to Heaven if you make enough.

 

"...Journal"

Being the Journal of Mid-Shipman Jamie Pip. Royal Navy Cadet. HMS Foretina, May 12th, 1903. …I stood Bow Watch from noon till sundown. Observed, and reported a French steamer on the starboard horizon. Post noon a Spanish “Man ‘o War” Ironclad crossed us heading east then turned true north.

Twin rainbows sighted 12 degrees to port. A great storm has skirted us….for now. Most enchanting at dusk a pod of dolphins rode our bow break. How graceful they glided in their songs. 

.******************************************************** 

HMS Foretina, May 14th 1903. …17 degrees N/NW of the Isle San Isabella de Angelica. It is a full Moon, and the Pole Star is 'a port. Orion’s three sisters drifts in the sky at our windward. The Foretina sings. At night she sings. From her rigging’s sails boards comes music. Her timbers groan her bow a soft choir, and how cleanly she cleaves the sea. The ships bell chimes as a call to prayer.

********************************************************

HMS Foretina May 17th, 1903. …A new lad came aboard by launch from the port of Isabella. His name Aliabad Wellington. He is kindly in disposition, and comely in appearance. A Moor a Berber, and poetic in his speech. I shall be so forward as to befriend him. Perhaps he will smile if I gift him my slim though precious volume of Sufi poems, and prayers.

********************************************************

The 21st of May 1903. …9 leagues E/NE of Saint George’s Atoll. The gales have caught up with us! We twist in her teeth! The Captain has ordered we sail into the wind. Waves lash the decks The sea looms. Fish rain down as Manna. Cook says, “…if we ain’t pulled to the bottom we’ll eat well!”

So fearful yet beautiful is this. The sky a blur of color. Arcs of lightning dance on every horizon. The masts ignited by "Saint Elmo’s Fire!” The bow digs deep yet rises again the rigging makes her strange music. The good “Foretina” yaws hard to port then starboard then again bowing even more deeply. The eyes of the younger Cadets  wide with terror yet wonder too. So it was for a night, and a day.

Fading,…drifting as sand in a wind. A dream,…all a dream. The ship the storm Aliabad faded. Vanished. Even myself…gone.

********************************************************

I’m reading a book. One made of linen it’s leaves flutter.  It speaks to me this linen book. Telling not only it’s written story, but how it came to be. How it was cut stitched. How the words were so slowly, and carefully threaded in place.  This book told me of it’s inner life. About the lives, and ways of all the books like her. Then like the…“Foretina” gone.

********************************************************

I enter another world in mid-sentence. Friends. Three women friends of which I am one. In dreams you live whole lives in moments. I entered a world with life long friends about me. I yearned to tell tell my great, and terrible secret. What for them was a lifetime was for me moments as I lay asleep in another world.

We sat, and laughed at the folly of the world. A world I was about to leave. Leave, and forget. This world, and my momentary friends will vanish. Leaving not even dust.

********************************************************

I awaken with the fragments of lives on the tip of my tongue. Fragments which as the moments pass melt away to nothing.

 

"...paper"

As a young lad I so wanted to be a flying pilot. Also a Geisha, and a fire engine too. However pilot came first. Till I found out ya had to kill folks up there. Deal breaker. So I played with dolls, and became a radio story teller instead.

I believe in the many Earths theory this being a Multiverse. An infinite number if universes…imagine. We likely exist in infinite variations. We all have an infinite number of other life paths. So in one I had a family, and now I'm a grandpa. In other's I was a Subway motorman a theologian was killed in the Vietnam War. …so on.

Also yes in one or perhaps many I became a flying pilot. I hope I was good at it, and never harmed anyone. I wonder how many are like me. Retired, and making paper doll houses.

 

"...sign here"

In answer to Uncle Sydney's question.

Is there a legal limit to the

number of bad days you can have in a month? 

Evil Spock replies.

"...NO."

 

"...Hellzapoppin"

The End of Fucking Days.

Not a damned bleeping moment too soon!

 

"...Limits"

Is there a legal limit

to the number of bad days you can 

have in a month?

Just asking.

 

 

"...1929"

While sitting around while the world ends again. I took snaps of stuff in my digs. What else is there to do. See my bamboo shoot below. Anyway my cousin Natasha Smith sent me a gift of a 1929 Texaco air racer. Back then flying races were a big deal. It was the Space X of it's times. So while existing in my cold digs. Yeah no heat for a few days. That, and it's 44f/6c with gale force winds. 

Life in the big city. 

I'm boiling water to heat the digs up. l learned that from my Ma's Great Depression stories,...it works mostly. Where was I? Right models. Anyway there it is. I set up a shoot on my kitchen table. I'm getting good at that. Threw in Brit 19th century Anglo-Sudan War troops. Which I had handy as one does. Cute as hell. 

"...above"

I took this last fall.

It's a bamboo shoot shot from above.

It's catching the actual last rays of sun in my kitchen.

 

"...they really don't give a fuck"

On top of everything else no I didn't get that Stimulus yet. Guess why. Turns out if you're on Social Security or getting Vets benefits you're fucked. 

Seems for whatever reasons Social Security hasn't got around to passing your information on to the IRS so they can deposit bucks in your account. Ya know so ya don't get evicted, and can get to eat sometimes.

Now I read they passed some of the data on a few days ago. Even that took an act of Congress. Just Democrats reacted. 

The republicans didn't want to give regular folks a dime. Even that $600 bucks before was given with extreme reluctance. Republican Nazi Ted Cruz said we'd just use it for "...drink, and drugs." At this point I might. Fuck'em.

Seems Congress was, and is being bombarded with pissed off missives from voters regards them empty accounts. So if you're out there counting on this like 300,000,000 Millions are. Shit might happen this week...maybe.

A digression.

In the future all cops will be cool Lesbians from the Belter Colonies. The work suits them. ...so they say.

“…good wishes”

“We were gaining three IQ points per decade for many, many years. Now, that’s going backward. Could this explain some of our choices lately?  There’s a new study out of Norway that indicates our IQs are shrinking, to the tune of about seven IQ points per generation. 

If the trend continues that means about 7 generations from now, we’ll see a serious decline. That actually means IQs at the top end will drop from 130 down to to 69. The average will fall to 45/55. The current average IQ is 95/110.” 

(…MSN News)

 I wonder if this happened during the depression. Poor health little food stress of great uncertainties. These led to extreme politics, and a spasm of genocidal wars. We became profoundly unwise then. Looking at this country January 6th being a clear sign. That, and similar for assorted local reasons all over the world. Well. For a civilization to work humans need stability. A healthy diet traditions intact families tribes. Normalcy. Right now much of that is in flux everywhere. 

So we bear less intelligent children. We even become less capable ourselves. If I we 20, and not 70 I would have a very interesting life before me. Much work ahead. As it is all I can give young folks are my good wishes.

"...a flare in the night"

I know there's nothing anyone can do...other than that fictional stimulus check. Once again the feds cut off my food benefits. A technicality so they say. It'll take time to get it back,...again. Remember my post from years ago, "The Great Famine of 2016". 

Well it's back.

Basically a prefect storm of the usual. Unexpected medical costs, and assorts bills that are a bit out of hand. Now again the loss of food benefits. This is what near everyone in this country except those financially insulated from the last year is going through. 

Ya know several of my FB friends are now homeless. They started the pandemic just fine. All lost they're jobs in IT,...yep all of them. Of course little or no savings like most so they were nuked. They ain't got that check neither. If one of them had she wouldn't be homeless. If I got mine I would have been able to eat in March.

Like last time rationing. 

I'm getting good at this. I've made what a regular person would eat in three days last over a week. Amazing what you can do when you have no choice. Right now I'm having a sip of honey every other day. It works...just enough to keep one from falling over.

Not looking for nothing from anyone.

Like last time I insist on my scraps of dignity. Sort of. I didn't tell friends family no one. Last time I sold my books for food. I was able to kid myself I was just getting rid of the excess. I still held onto my former middle class mindset. This time fuck it. I'm as poor as many tens of millions of others in the land of the free. 

However I do want them bucks Uncle Joe promised. Near fifty years of my taxes paid for it. Otherwise everything is peachy.

"...say ya wouldn't have a cheeseburger handy?"

"...spaghetti"

This from my 2016 archives.

Anyway a quote from the article:

"We are all probably a little racist and should work on that. ...Seriously."

This below is my blogger friend, and dear comrade "Z" in reply.

"I'm not sure how one works on it. Like I said before, I've been thinking about it a lot lately. In this country we have a sort of invisible apartheid cyclone fence made of psychic razor wire.

You may not see it, but if you walk into it you can sure feel it.

I know it's just in my head, but it's in a lot of other people's heads too; it's a collective evil hallucination with just as much reality as we give it. How do we go about dismantling this fucker, starting - I suppose - with ourselves?"

My big mouth wordy reply to "Z".

"...First pay attention to Science which has shown us that "Race" in the way most think of it "DOES NOT EXIST". Sort of like the Earth ain't flat, and the peanut butter side of the bread will always land on the kitchen floor. Just realities of the multiverse.

Once that's shoved into the heads of the sweaty gleeful masses we might start getting somewhere.

After science we need to fuck a whole lot in every happy variation with as many consenting mortals as possible. Then get seriously stoned make a lot of music, and generally hang out with everybody of all the colors orientations, and zip codes.

From my youth I learned that once you've been intimate, and vulnerable with another it's never the same again. You've more than bounded...you're bleeping family...like it or not.

In my first daze in radio I did all of the above with the gang I still hang with,...all colors orientations the works. We're still family...going on near 50 years.

Heck we're bleeping burying each other now. See what I mean. The "razor-wire" if not gone is now wet spaghetti. Once you're intimate on whatever levels you're stuck with each other.

I guess that's what marriage was supposed to be. ...but that's a whole other story.

"...buzzing"

More from my FB Journals

This from the first days of NYC COVID Lockdown.

March 25th 2020. ...There, and back again. My short adventure out getting my meds, and paying my electric bill. Both the streets, and trains were empty. Like Sunday morning at 5am. I was not within 50 feet of anyone the whole time. There were so few folks. I took care of my affairs. Went to the also empty supermarket. I checked first for crowds. Almost empty,...but already price gouging.

Of course I showered when I came in, and put my things in a laundry bag, and sprayed with disinfectants. The trees are budding much more than when I was last out. Also Army helicopters buzzing about now, and then. Huey's, and Chinooks,...NY Air National Guard I assume. All is quiet.

"...alive"

This a kit I did of a Brit WW2 Bi-Plane.

A Swordfish Coastal Command Patrol Plane.

These kats hunted Nazi subs.

Below a video I did years ago.

I took an electric motor from another kit.

Fitted it,....with profound difficulty into the Swordfish.

Watch da video. 

It worked kind sorta for a while.

Then bleeping died. I assume the motor was old.

I got it off a Navy TBF kit from the 1960's.

Yeah so it was aged a bit.

I used to buy vintage kits of the kind I built as a kid.

This before I was forcibly retired.

Oh my life, and times.

Bleep it I'm alive.

*

 

 

"...company"

I have since retirement had a solitary life,...like a lot of oldsters. No one knows or cares if I'm home. Okay maybe some Jehovah's Witnesses. However even the landlords wouldn't care as long as someone sends them a check. My place could be like that apartment in Paris. No one has been in there since 1944. The family accounts just automatically paid the rent for near 80 years. The reason anyone went in was an heir was curious about it.

On the other hand I do have company of a sort. 

"...time"

FB Ghost ships are so sad. I'm thinking of the pages of passed on friends abandoned sites. These all now digital Ghost Ships. As will mine in time will be. All of us eventually. If you touch a platform you become in a way immortal. Your imprint will live almost forever. There's a science fiction story. An iPhone is dug up on the moon. This in 3000 years. They decode it, and a world of ancient "Likes", and emojis springs forth.

"...knights"

I had a Christmas Eve dream. I don't remember if I posted about it. So this is as good a time as any. It was in a mish-mash of locations from my whole life. My old schools places I worked traveled to radio studios all of them.

There I was a pissed off teen again in weird armor helmet fucking blades, and a serious knight’s sword! See above. Others were with me. Again folks from my whole life were extras in this epic. From when I was a kid to this day.

“And there was a War in Heaven!”

Yeah remember that. Well my inner knight sure did. The lot of us spent several installments hacking, and being hacked by hell's underpaid Demons. I’d wake think WTF?!! Fall back to sleep, and pick up where we left off.

We had a bleeping ball!

Fighting for real evil with the help of old pals…what could be better. Not only that, but I think we won. Well them Demons beat it da hell out'a there at least. Then this strange after battle mixing of other dreams. The normal blended with this surreal event.

That, and I lost my sword.

Spent the balance of the dream cycle looking for it. Wandered through several other dream worlds on it’s trail. I may well find it when I crash, and dream later.

Wadda Dream.

Must have been that Faerie dust in my cider.

"...smaller"

I think my daily life has become unstuck in time.

A Limbo State.

I'm here, but not sort of like Wyoming.

Only smaller.

 

"...junk"

I took my still no shots so still Quarantined opportunity to clear out some stuff. It's all in about 10 moving boxes in my bedroom. The rest of my digs are Zen plain, but that corner is hell. I started at two this morning. Still can't sleep. To begin,...Old receipts from 2014-20 piles of dead junk mail.

Notes for stuff I was writing, but then realized how stupid they were. These remain rather extremely stupid. The years did nothing for them.

DVD's I thought I'd lost. "Kind Hearts, and Coronets",...put that on your soon to end Lockdown movie list. Some old comic books I can re-read.

Scads of thousand year old audio cassettes'n Cd's from my radio show daze. Also some model kits I forgot all about. These will all come in handy for the balance of my House Arrest.

Cut-off notices from Con Ed. Bastards. You miss a month they cut ya lights off. More legal static,...paper work from Social Services. You get old you have to deal with them heartless wonks.

Add to all that instructions for equipment tossed out years ago. Breath mints,...they still work. Old Jury Duty warnings...I skipped a few, and $4.27 cents in change...which will also be handy.

This exhausted me.

I'm laying down for a few days to get over all that.

"...pizza"

"Eh,...did someone ring for a Superhero?"

 

"...history"

I want to see the first serious books doucs dramas about recent history. A truthful unbiased analysis of what the hell happened. From the JFK hit in 1963 to the the ransacking of the Capitol Building in 2021. All the major American food groups. Wealth power race blood even spoons full of hopes. I want to read this history I lived. Lived, and like many helped make.

"...business"

There has been a second mass shooting in this country in less than a week. This time a grocery store. 10 people were gunned down for no known reason. This could be a sign of a return to American normality. 

Here in the Emerald City there has been a steady increase in pointless murders. Last night a person was shot for no reason on 38th Street Manhattan. Local 'hood shootings are again routine. Most of these events are not connected to robberies or the traditional crimes of passion. 

They're just happening. 

Perhaps making up for lost time. This town was by the numbers as safe as Wyoming for most of the Pandemic. As the players were in lockdown. With the soon leveling of the Pandemic the removal of a disturbed head of state, and an apparent return to a kind of normality in mind if not fact. The American tradition of shooting each other for the hell of it is has come back. 

Before the Pandemic we were numb this. So tuned it out. However COVID over took it. Instead of hundreds shot each month. Thousands died every week sometimes every day from the Virus.

We seem now to be going back to business as usual. The experience of enduring more than a Half Million perished has not made us better wiser or stronger. We're still the same oblivious cowardly bigoted selfish people we always were.

"...nuts"

Just another quiet night in my digs.

I would say I'm going nuts.

However that happened long years ago.

 

"...Queer Dolls I"

I try to imagine a different early life.

A different boyhood.

If only if a kind relative or friend had intervened.

Perhaps gifting a doll. 

At the time any kind of doll.

This to recognize I was different.

'And it was fine that I was.

So small a gesture would have been golden.