Thursday, January 12, 2017

"Do you take advantage of the new freedoms?" 

Oh My Goddess!  I think I made it into 2017.  I honestly didn't think I would.  Are we near unanimously agreed that 2016 was a nightmare, on Jack Paar with top nightmare years of the past?  Like WWI or WWII or Vietnam or...I know I'm far too old for this shit.  All my parodies slash warnings of a satiric, yet very real dystopic vision of the future's possibilities, can not compare to the madness mindset we have succumbed to.  Nixon?  Insane.  Reagan?  You got to be kidding.  Divorced snitch for the FBI, Bedtime for Bonzo, Chesterfield pushing, 20 Mule Team Boraxo inhaling, G.E. shill with extra EMFs.  Impossible, but true.  Bush I, CIA spook, Bay of Pigs, Kennedy killer.  With dumb down Dan Quale his Anthony Hopkins MAGIC puppet?  Nah!  Wait for the sequel.  Unilateral Pictures presents SON OF BUSH.  And dumber than shit compared to Basil Rathbone.  And who was Ygor?  Rumsfeld, maybe?  No, folks.  That was just a warm-up.  You were probably too busy caring about the Kardashians or searching for Pokémon to notice.

So having made it to this point, I'm ready to fight.  And I mean Sartre/Resistance type fight.  Being elderly, I think my black beret might look quite stylish.  Pity about the black turtleneck shirts and sweaters, though.  So fab and gear in my Illya Kuryakin teen years.  Now they only accentuate the double chins.  I'm as stylish as Henry Kissinger hosting HULLABALOO.  (I know it might be considered a racist joke, but I think it is innocently funny when someone says, "You have more chins than a Chinese telephone book.")

So 2016 was a nightmare.  Worse than 2013 for me, when my mother died.  Or 1997, when my long suffering father died, although I tried to redeem that year by finally marrying.  *sigh*  What's that signpost up ahead?  Highway 101 with Rod Serling off the On Ramp.  Or is that on the Off Ramp?

2016 was at best a tract house version of Purgatory.  Where Orange County visions, long abandoned, came back to haunt me.  And the concepts of trust and how well do you know that person came into play.  Like the Vangelis album.  It was HEAVEN AND HELL.  As Peter Sellers said, "It's all part of life's rich pageantry."

If I was younger (Goddess!  Am I REALLY this old?), I would either join a Benedictine monastery (I'm quite fond of B&B liqueur) or else make erotic films in Prague or Budapest or Amsterdam.  Sacre et Profane. 

Ah, yes.  Despite the soul killing experiences, a little spark still flames.  The passion for it all.  The love of the Art.  The Art of the Matter.  The Music.  The Literature.  The Philosophy.  The Imagery Expressed.  In painting, cartooning, collage, photography and film.  The passion of the Here & Now.  The exploration of the There & Then.

As a man who has spent most of his life in the Grey Zone.  That Libra balance...I am more than aware that things have gotten to basic black & white.  Good vs. Evil.  Greed vs Charity.  To quote Basia and Matt Bianco, "Whose side are you on?"  Or Amon Duul 2 at the end of "Mozambique"  "Unite, and Fight..."

But it all leads back to the Art.  And I truly believe that the Evil Ones do not have a Sense of Humour.  You need a Soul to grasp the Cosmic Giggle.  Sensitive as opposed to being de-sensitized.  Thick skins bluffing the world of the heartless possessed within.  Overcompensating for traumas of inadequacy of youth.  Pushy fathers.  Heartless mothers.  The Bush Family is an American Portrait of Dysfunction.  "Must Keep Up Appearances."  Tyrants with tiny fingers, in the shape of a perpetual "O."  Fuck them.  Seriously.  Fuck them.  And not in the kindly, loving exotic, erotic "Fuck them."  But in the up against the wall, "do you wish a blindfold?"  FUCK THEM!

SOFT ROCK CLASSICS OF THE SEVENTIES.  "And if you order in the next ten minutes...YOU will have ordered in the next ten minutes!

No Sacrifice Too Great For Art!

And speaking of Art...the illustrations for this entry of anxiety are from my dear friend David Fontana.  The opening work is from a proposed literary, artistic, surrealistic, philosophical and somewhat kitschy fetish zine I once proposed called The Hermit.  My avatar.  My kindred spirit and soul mate.  The circle in the corner was where the photo of my nun logo of GRAVEN IMAGES was to go.  My Mercurial Sensualist Persona.

The other drawing, also done by Signore Fontana is his spirit writing image of yours truly in the SPACE PIRATE RADIO ethos.  So proud to have known this friend for so many years.

So...A Call To Alms, dear friends.  Let us Confound the Corporate and Fool the Fascists.  They don't Get IT.  So why should they Get away with IT?


"Only from my dead, cold hands will you take my copy of MAD MAGAZINE."

*giggles*  but seriously...