"...Raj"

I got's this thing about Raj/Zulu War era

British toy soldiers.

I spent the other steamy night 

taking these snaps.

My relatives down in the Islands.

The one's on my Ma's side. 

Dad's were for real Mississippi folks.

My Brit Island Commonwealth 

family sent me gifts when I was a kid.

This is how I discovered Hornby electric trains,

and Meccano's. Basically Brit Erector sets.

Anyway that's how these guys ended up in my life.

I used to collect these folks.

Still have some. The above for hundreds of years.

Got the Raj guys when I was 11. 

So that makes them 348 years old for sure. 

The canon guys are French.

North African 1870's Colonial Zouaves.

All of them. The bunch all on the dirty end of the deal. 

Canon fodder of the European colonial Great Game. 

Which we seem to have taken up for now.

Who's next in Afghanistan,...looks like China.

Ya'd think them guys would know better.

 

"...limits"

I so really miss Coney Island, and Nathan's.

They been shoving Hot dawgs

into us for over 100 years.

Buying the stuff at market'n cooking

 at home ain't da same.

There has to be some sand in it. 

That, and the sounds of waves radios 

drunken brawls, and lots of stoned happy laughing.

It's like going to da movies, and not getting popcorn.

There a place for everything.

Nathan's place is at the bleeping Beach.

I just hope it's still there

when this damned Plague is really over.

This is the third damned summer since me'n Bob da Bunny 

ate dawgs, and drank root beer on da Boardwalk.

Com'on there's limits.

 

"...souls"

Dolls speak to each other.

They have their own opinions.

They have Souls.

 

July Thirty First.

It's the night of August Eve.

Tomorrow begins High Summer.

 

"...down-ballot"

Voters on their way to the Brooklyn 

Fairy Council Elections.

I'm voting the Liberal Pixie Dust Party ticket.

I like their platform

on re-opening all the Libraries.

 

'...Worlds"

Angels, and Faeries are my personal Mythology.

We dream, and create Worlds.

 

A few years after gaining a new home. This with the help of family, and friends. They didn’t know I was Houseless. I’m a performer. I acted the part of myself living normally. For dignities sake I kept it from them. I began making paper art pieces. This I called Our Lady of the Streets.

"...12th"

It is our moral duty to end want.

A Sacred Obligation to make such suffering impossible.

This a reflection on the 12th

Anniversary of the start of my Houseless year.

 

 

The dusk sun flares over 

a 120 year old Brooklyn Chimney.

A High Summer Day closes.

Over 100+ years ago.

We heated with coal.

The pipe on left vented gases

from apartment house stored coal.

History everywhere before us.

 

 

"...waves"

 

I keep Tupperware tubs of snow handy.

This so I can play with them during heatwaves.

"...stuff"

My kitchen this afternoon.

Okay yeah I was cooking stuff. 

But Still!

 

"...Hot Dwags"

 

We're in the Dog Days of High Summer. This got it's name in Roman times. Them folks thought the appearance of the star Sirius was the cause of the heat. In fact it's the Devil smoking a pipe on his back porch. I mean this just stands to reason. "Uncle Sydney's Big Book of Stuff" Vol. 2 of 38, Oxford Univ. Press 1997~2021.

Here's "Hotpoint". The Cobbly that lives in my hall closet. Them folks mostly sleeps. They're like little Yeti, and don't seem to have gender. New ones just seem to appear. They eat all da bugs, and junk mail. They also sing opera highlights in their sleep.

 

"...An instructive, and necessary screed"

After the Plague is really over. I may give lectures at the New School. ...or online. Guy Lessons. That in how to live in a house a cabin or apartment of any size. These are all the same to guys. Just somewhere to eat crap sleep, and never maintain.

Being of various orientations over the centuries. I've been able to observe guys closely. Shock, and horror does not begin. As Quentin Crisp, a noted guy, once said, "...Apartments in New York are wonderful. After three years they don't get any dirtier."

'And they don't.

Or so it seems. Once a topsoil of dust bug parts shed skin radioactive isotopes, and roaming Buffalo settles in. You're good for years of cozy living. I've known cases of decades. So why disturb such peace, and order?

Because we're supposed to be fucking civilized that's why!

This last year of being stuck in my digs showed that even a tidy soul as myself was in reality a bleeping slob. You recall photos of my Zen empty digs. So proud I was,...till I was stuck there, and had a good bleeping look!

Holy crap!

There was a reason why I kept hacking at my digs over the months of Lockdown. Painting banging plastering repairing constantly cleaning. Where the bleep does all that dust come from?

Specifically dust.

That stuff of future apartment topsoil. Every day I shovel a kilo of dat stuff out'a here. No wonder regular guys can plant crops in their hallways.

Don't start about city windows.

Those I let go as utterly impossible to tame.

The rest can be dealt with. However it's a pain in da butt. Which is why dear Quentin just said fuck it, and wrote books, and plays instead.

In our next chapter how to quickly, and with ease. Keep not only your kitchen, but the toilet the floors all surfaces including ya self squeaky clean!

This, and very presentable to random City Building Inspectors. Them, and plumbers were my only guests this past year, and more. I now look forward to their visits.

I recall one saying:

"...I could walk around your place blind folded, and not bump into anything."

I took that a complete validation of my efforts.

"...the point"

 

To the degree I'm still able to care I care about this. The January 6, 2020 Insurrection abetted by a sitting President of the United Sates of America. The first violent transition of power in our whole history. 

In the aftermath one party is attempting a historic targeted action of voter suppression across many states. This if successful will end our first republic. Wound it deeply in 2022, and end it in 2024.

So I'm watching the Hearings on that Insurrection. Mobs sacking our National Capitol Building. Directed by that sitting President to overturn a legal election. Installing him as President for Life. Something not even done during our Civil War. 

I'm horrified. Everyone should be. 

However most don't care won't watch or have bought the counter narratives. Sez #45, "...It was a fun fest."

If I were young I'd be doing things. Getting ready for what may come. Now in my elder time I can only watch,...and Vote.

"...eggs"

Officially I think it hit 92f~33c in the Emerald City.

They measure in Central Park where none of us lives.

As always it was hotter around town.

Broke100f in direct sun on my kitchen window sill for a few minutes.

Fortunately I don't sleep in that part of my digs.

...might fry eggs tho'.

 

It was over 90f in the baked Emerald City.

A Beach Day for sure!

 

"...heart"

From my Time Portal series.

This morning I set my dark matter pocket watch, and portaled. I shimmered onto a roadside just outside of Kittery Maine. Tuesday 11:47am April 27th 1938 CE. I had thought I'd be alone. I often like to wander the countryside of past eras. I happened on a family with car trouble. They asked if I knew about engines. I said no. I was a writer. The older lady said, "...oh for them Colored newspapers?" I said,. "...in a way." They were a farm family. We chatted about what FDR said on the radio, and how hard the past winter was. Generous they offered me some of their packed lunch. Anne Frank was very right. People really are good at heart.

"...Empress"

As the city swelters. I enchant myself with items, and memories of my long ago former life. There was my wandering year. Keeping possessions while Houseless ain't easy.

Most cast into mafia landfills. These the Potter's Field's of our everyday utensils. Among them my dolls. Figures of paper wood, and all, but eternal plastic.

My former companions sleep the centuries there. Waiting for  grave robbers. These to discover un-earth mis-label, and devalue them. Thereby earning tenure. Such a fate for my dear little ones.

Those 31st century wonks won't know she's Malibu Barbie. Once an Empress of nations. They'll be digging her sisters up all over the world. Scholars will say "...Clearly post-industrial worship Totems." Actually they won't be that far off.

"...business"

A dear comrade was commenting to me about a certain Southern politician of particular bad character. This put me in mind as to how do people become total bleep heads.

The world they're born into makes a difference. This is why I like alternate history stories. Depending on the world one can end up in interesting predicaments.

On one earth a person is an evil war criminal. In the next over he's a blameless train conductor,...in yet another a composer. Then yet another like our unnamed hero a racist corrupt politician. So how does one judge? That Many Earths thing complicates matters.

Gawd's job if she's in the judgement business must be hell,...so to speak.

"...???"

The heat, and humidity makes me as stoned, and zonked

as Dorothy in that field of Heroin.

Had weird dreams like Dorothy too.

I saw bleeping UFO's all over the damned sky. 

They were chased by jets.

One jet crashed.

My sister was with me

In da dream she was a little kid again.

So I picked her up, and ran.

When we went back to the crash.

The Air Force jet was a small scale model.

????

Them UFO's or UAP's as they call them now

made sounds like bees, and wasps.

Hey ya can't make this stuff up.

 

"...January 6, 2020"

Sez Mickey:

"But how can this be?"

"This is The United States of America"

 

"...Is the Earth Flat?"

No the Earth is not flat. Anyone can see that. It's more lumpy, and wet than flat. Think a pizza with all that veggies crap heaped on it floating in a lake.

That or a rug with a bunch of gophers sleeping under a rug with a serious leak from upstairs pouring down. Well the gophers under there would have to be nodding out for that to work. I mean if they were moving around there would be earthquakes all the time.

Which may explain the prehistoric stuff when that happened.

It was all caused by giant Gophers living just under the permafrost. Well okay the earth is like the Sheep's Meadow over in the park with a bunch of science fair volcanoes all over it. Plus some mud, and assorted water-main breaks.

Right that about sums it up. ...next question.

"...talent"

Bob da Bunny got a call from the BBC a week ago. He's doing a story.

 He just emailed me this shot of him in North Sudan. 

He seems okay just chilling with the local talent.

That's Bob on da left.

 

"...stuff"

Kikuko on my writing table.

These little folks inspire me to to do stuff.

'Always wanted to make little figures.

I may yet get to it.

 

"...Royal"

It's the Jewish year 5781. Jebus,...2021, Islam,...1442, Disney,...93.

( Dating from "Steamboat Willie") Everyone should have their own Calendar.

Mine like yours would start with birth.

In The Royal Republic of Sydneyland. It's the year 71.

In the Summer month of Bob da Bunny. The other Summer months are: Heat Stroke, and Mosquito. Fall begins with the month called Burnt Leaves.

 

 

"...Sez Bob"

Bob da Bunny on first visit to Mid-town in over a year.

"Eh,...it still smells like poop."

 

 

Fucking Dusk.

This from my Kitchen Observatory.

Don't know why I still do measurements.

I chart the stars, and what planets

I can make out.  This through

all the fucking shit we crapped into the skies.

It's like I'm a surviving literate Monk. 

Clinging to the shreds of sanity

left over from civilization.

Who cares.

However it does pass the time.

Which is why them guys bothered in the last dark age.

It's something to do till the place is sacked.

 

"...a reasonable solution"

 

"...This is How It's Fucking Done"

 

"...huh?"

 

I'm really tired of the end of the world. I mean com'on just get it done. This slow tease is pissing me off. Sure them fires, and folks choking across a whole continent was a good sign. But then it eases back, and everybody forgets they nearly all just died. 

Same with storms earthquakes floods,...nothing. We forget like it never happened. Near 700,000 folks just died in agony in front of us from a fucking plague in this country, and we already forgot. Half don't even believe it happened.

Speaking of End Time Floods. China got Eight Months of rain in a few days. Flooded big chucks of the place. Folks trapped in subways drowning like rats. Suddenly it's off the front page, and we're treated to celeb bullshit again. 

What da fuck kind of disaster movie is this?! 

People no longer have a memory for anything except trivia. So when something big goes down they forget. In minutes not hours or even days. Soon in moments. They just don't care. If it ain't happened to them it ain't happened. 

Whole states in two countries are on fire at the moment. The continent is covered in the smoke. Yet if you asked these morons what's going on they'd say, "...eh,...huh?"

If ever there was a fucking planet that deserved a big rock to hit it it's this one. If that demented old time religion stuff turns out to be true. I'm not remotely surprised that the Big Guy wipes us out from time to time in utter exasperation!

Enough that's it...get me the fuck out'a here!

 

"Eh, Dad..."

"Shut up ya little prick."

 

 

"...queer times"

"Ken", of Ken & Barbie fame. A noted scholar researcher author artist poet actor model, and former City Council-Person of the City of San Francisco. He was also in the early 1970's one of the founding members of the California "Gay Activists Alliance".

"Ken" along with his lifelong friend, and former wife "Barbie" are about to issue a new online book.

His latest is called "Beneath Lavender Skies".

It's his long awaited Autobiographical work of his time with the Mattel Toy Company. His meeting Barbie the forced marriage. The deep closet years AIDS police, and FBI blackmail.

He confirms former President Obama's work to help him clear not only his, but the names of countless Dolls, 'Toons, and fictional characters. These with government, and local police blackmail files being held over them.

Shown is a portrait of Ken taken for his online book tour.

Among events covered is the infamous police assault in June 1966. His then wife Barbie was arrested. This while trying to intervene when Ken was being brutally beaten by "Federal Toon Police" on the front steps of his own home. They punched her out, arrested her as a prostitute, and made sure all the tabloids got the mug shot.

Ugly days indeed.

This is covered in detail within the book "Beneath Lavender Skies". The son of the Captain in charge, is interviewed. For the first time he officially reveals where the orders for the "Ken" hit came from,...a Shocker!

"Beneath Lavender Skies", Oxford University Press.

This story from a few years.

"...good news"

The Emerald City is getting the deadly backwash 

of the west coast forest infernos. 

If these were nukes going off this would be the fallout. 

It looks just as scary as the projections for same. 

The air has the aroma of burning trees. 

This as forests from California to British Colombia 

are vaporizing up into the atmosphere.

I was out walking with my sister downtown.

Because of Lockdown.

We hadn't seen each other in a year, and a half.

We had to go back to her place.

We were both gasping from the air

Fuzzy from the extreme heat.

Our sunsets are now vivid. See above.

This as the fallout has caused a humid inversion. 

NYC is now like a big room with no windows.

 It's 100 degrees, and full of smoke.

That, and everybody in that room 

is beating stabbing, and shooting each other.

Gimme a break!

Aliens landing would be good news.