Sunday, December 31, 2017

Hunkered down for New Year's Eve in Austin

45 minutes until the New Year (Central time). Stocked the fridge earlier today. Am steeled against whatever jerks set off fireworks within my apartment complex (as they did on July 4). Old (like me) = worried about loud noises rather than planning where you're going on New Year's Eve.

p.s. The Trump socks: I bought them pre-election 2016 and have never gotten to wear them. What better time than... ALONE FOR NEW YEAR'S! :)

Saturday, December 30, 2017

The Shape of Water

My adventure for this Friday was taking the bus to downtown Austin to see "The Shape of Water" at Violet Crown on 2nd St.

I arrived early and was walking around with time to kill when a young man approached me at an intersection: "Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the new library is?"

While wandering around aimlessly, I had been wondering the same thing: The newly opened big-deal-of-a-library was somewhere in the area, but I hadn't seen it. I apologized for not knowing, explaining that I was just killing time before a movie. What movie? I told him. His girlfriend had just "made him" see "The Shape of Water," but he didn't like it. Why not? He didn't know --- just wasn't his thing. What about (my second and third choices for holiday films) the Churchill movie and "Three Billboards"? He liked Churchill... I wished him luck as we crossed separate streets.

After briefly contemplating changing my movie plans after talking to a complete stranger (!), I went on see "The Shape of Water."

It was, in many ways, an intensely beautiful movie. It was shot beautifully. And I am so utterly alone that I, of course, related completely to the mute main character, to her ageing gay neighbor, to the "monster." To the sympatico, delicate connections. THAT was the beautiful part of the movie: "We are not alone."

Plot-wise, the film was also intense: The Evil Villain versus the Good Guys. I cringed and got angry where appropriate; I cried.

The acting was great: Michael Shannon as the Bad Guy (whom I'd just recently seen in a funnily evil bit on the Amy Sedaris show) was the best; Sally Hawkins as the The Mute was very good (especially her "FUCK YOU" signing scene).

The film was based on "The Creature of the Black Lagoon" --- director Guillermo del Toro has said in interviews that he had a fantasy about the Gill-man ending up with the Girl. That's a thing unto itself. (I had my own fantasy about "Sunset Boulevard.) And that fantasy of "the Beast" winding up with its object of desire is a long-standing thing (realized here). As is the non-sexual fantasy of "the Beast" potentially being rescued: Frankenstein, King Kong, ET, Trog...

My problem with this movie, though, was that the "other" wasn't explored very intelligently or subtly. There was a lot of heavy-handed social critiquing going on. For instance, the main character and her gay neighbor like to go to a "Southern" diner where the studly young counter-man calls out to customers "Y'all come back now, y'hear!" The gay neighbor  has a crush on the young man. At one point, the two start to have a personal conversation about being alone in the city; as soon as the older gay man takes the young man's hand, the latter pulls back ---- then a black couple comes into the diner and the young man tells them to get out... Point taken: "Southern" and "white" is "Evil."

Same goes for the main "Bad Guy": He's a Fed; he reads "The Power of Positive Thinking" in his spare time; he fucks his wife with his shirt on; he crudely comes on to the saintly Eliza; he mocks black people; he sucks up to a general; he adheres to protocol. In an A-movie, I've never seen such a blatantly negative portrayal. Shannon was riveting in the role, but his role was cartoonishly one-sided.

(In other blatant ridiculousness from the director: "Movie-watching = Good; TV-watching = Bad.)

In other, more intelligently done, movies where an "alien" was involved, directors were more subtle. Think of "ET." Often, there's a scientific argument about what is to be done with the alien creature... This movie, though, takes a completely simplistic ham-handed approach. I got over that to enjoy the ride, but I was still obviously aware of the ham-handedness.

"The Shape of Water" was a very good, simplistic B-movie. In the "olden days," not Oscar-worthy (but just watch --- it'll get a bunch this year.)

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Say Ginny had not left me...

We knew each other in high school in the spring and summer of 1983.

She died in 1988.

1983 to 1988, she came and went in and out of my life. I was in college in Austin, but I was also conscious of what she was doing.

She called me in 1987, asking if I'd graduated yet. (Since I'd gone off to college in '83, I should have graduated by 1987 -- I hadn't.) She then got her "other" friend to come stay with her while she died in Georgia.

But what if I'd been with Ginny when she died? What if I'd stayed in Azle after I graduated in '83 just to be with her? I think I would have done so if she'd wanted me. [Edit a few days later: I was winning all sorts of minor awards in high school and clearly going off to college in Austin. Ginny wanted me during my senior year of high school, but it was clear that I was going off to college. She could have joined me in Austin a year later, when she graduated; but by then she'd chosen someone else. I would NEVER have stayed in Azle in 1983. I had too much of life before me to investigate.]

And after she died in Georgia? I would have been a lost soul. I'd probably be working as an Admin Assistant today.

When I came to college in Austin in '83, I used to constantly bemoan why she wasn't with me. Every experience that I had, every club I went to, every apartment I lived in wasn't as good because she wasn't there. Such an ugly, creepy feeling. She didn't want me, but I didn't like what I was living because she wasn't there. I went on with living, but it wasn't as good.

Say she'd wanted me...  I used to think that I would bring her into my college world because I was so serious about it; but she could just as easily have dragged me into her world --- her nothing-world, where she worked at a record store at a mall, and stole from them... And then blamed me, in Austin, where she brought her stolen tapes to sell.

All of this is nothing. She was an idiot. But she was more memories than I've ever had with anyone else.

Making my choice for me

Ever since I moved into my current apartment last April, I've been undecided about whether I'll stay here. A huge stack of boxes in my living room (saved in case I need them for books) is testament to my indecision.

Today, I did a search for my apartment complex on Craigslist. I pay $1275. The ad for the same exact apartment was for $1375.

No way. I have a front-view of air-conditioners. I have a small backyard, but with layers of other apartment dwellers looking down on that backyard. I never go out there.

I've been arguing with myself: It's quiet, except for when I'm home between 8 and 5 and have to listen to the maintenance guys banging around next door.

I've been 50/50. If rent is going up to $1375, I'm for sure leaving. This is a generic place. For $1375, I could at least get an apartment downtown or a duplex or something somewhere.

February 15, I must make up my mind.

Praying for Rain

On Christmas Eve, some assholes were actually shooting off fireworks in my neighborhood!

I'd never (literally) heard such a thing before. I knew that July 4 and New Year's Eve were holidays for fireworks... but on CHRISTMAS EVE??? It went on from about 10:45pm to 1:45am.

Can't wait for this coming Sunday... My only hope is the weather on Sunday night (New Year's Eve): There is a possibility of rain and sleet. Dear god, let it rain and sleet and snow and drive these creeps back into their hovels.

I think it's fair for fireworks on New Year's Eve being shot off from, say, midnight until 1am... But in my experience in Austin, fuckers keep shooting off stuff until 3am. I'm tensed up ahead of time.

Cyndi Lauper - I Drove All Night (1989)

I had to escape, the city was sticky and cruel
Maybe I should have called you first
But I was dying to get to you
I was dreaming while I drove
The long straight road ahead
Uh-huh, Yeah
Could taste your sweet kisses, your arms open wide
This fever for you was just burning me up inside
I drove all night to get to you
Is that all right?
I drove all night crept in your room
Woke you from your sleep to make love to you
Is that all right?
I drove all night
What in this world keeps us from falling apart?
No matter where I go
I hear the beating of our one heart
I think about you when the night is cold and dark
Uh-huh, yeah
No one can move me the way that you do
Nothing erases this feeling between me and you
I drove all night to get to you
Is that all right?
I drove
I taste your sweet kisses, your arms open wide
This fever for you was just burning me up inside
I drove all night to get to you
Is that all right?
I drove all night crept in your room
Is that all right?
I drove all night


I did, in 1994. After doing some detective-work, and drinking quite a bit, I made a 200-mile trek to West Texas, chasing after my boss, where'd he'd gone to cover a football game. Exciting momentarily when I got fucked immediately... but ultimately meaningless and odd: We kind of didn't know what to do with each other in the hotel room after we'd fucked so monumentally. We ordered food; "Tom Jones" happened to be on the hotel cable, so we --- since we were meeting surreptitiously --- awkwardly felt that we had to eat our takeout in a "sexy" fashion a la the "Tom Jones" scene... He was worried about the next morning---he was there with other work friends who might come to his door... And what about the hotel maids?

The next morning, no friends or maids came by, but his wife did call the hotel room; he was in the shower, and I was not a bitch --- I let the phone ring without answering it in a breathless voice. When it was time for checkout, he offered to drive behind me to help me find my way back to Austin... I said thanks, but I could do it myself. (The drive home much less exciting when sober.)

I felt guilty and skanky as hell in 1994.... But come to think of it 25 years (!) later... The aftermath was dumbly depressing, but during the drive there, and when I first knocked on his hotel-room door, and when we first fucked...nothing but exciting anticipation.

Tuesday, December 26, 2017

I missed out on Christmas this year...

Usually I get into the spirit o' the season back in late October/early November, planning what to get people (Mom, brother, his wife, nephews).

This year, though... Mom told me back in August that she's leaving her house to me --- but it will be 50% owned by my brother. So I can just live in it.


What was once, 10 years ago, a 50-50 split between me and my brother became a 1/3, 1/3, 1/3 split a couple of years ago: Me 1/3, brother 1/3, his two kids sharing the last 1/3.

In August of 2017, everything became: Me 25%, brother 25%, his two kids 25% each.

Like fucking hell. Sure, my mom can do what she wants with her house and her money. But LIKE FUCKING HELL I'm going to be a participant in any part of her lunacy. In fact, I protest against it.

I was/am depressed about no Christmas this year. But I think I abstained for good reason.

"Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive." -- Josephine Hart

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Johnny Hallyday, 2006

11 Days Off Checklist

I'm off work Friday, December 22, through Monday, January 1. My goal is to not just drink and then lie on my couch the day after watching TV for any of these days. Here's the progress so far:

Friday, Dec. 22: Got my hair cut.
Saturday, Dec. 23: Went in to the office and worked 6.5 hours.

So far, so good...

For the coming days, I have simple needs: (1) Spend a day in downtown Austin, walking around and seeing a movie (Shape of Water, probably). (2) Clean my apartment. (3) Spend a day walking around my old North Loop hood just a mile south: Sue Patrick store, Dollar Store (buying some lighters), Savers, the used book store, with the church re-sale shop just up the street. (4) Give my car a present and wash it, inside and out.

So far, so good...

Friday, December 22, 2017

Johnny Hallyday Live 1963 Amsterdam

France's Johnny Hallyday died on December 5. The whole city of Paris came out on December 9 for his funeral procession. I got goosebumps at seeing such an homage. People actually still remember and honor their own...

As for the US... We've been co-opted. We're not allowed to appreciate Elvis any more. Here's what we're now "supposed to" think (courtesy of Public Enemy, 1990, and supported by today's media):

Elvis was a hero to most
But he never meant shit to me you see
Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain
Motherfuck him and John Wayne
Cause I'm Black and I'm proud
I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps
Sample a look back you look and find
Nothing but rednecks for 400 years if you check...

FUCK OFF, Public Enemy. I want my country back.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Rolling Stones (1966)

Waiting for someone to come out of somewhere...

Hecate, Greek Goddess of the Crossroads (turn-of-the-century depictions)

Interesting that in the 1880s, when France gifted the Liberty statue to the US, the likeness was attributed to "Libertas," a minor so-called "liberty goddess" of the Romans --- much less troubling or interesting than the major Greek goddess Hecate, upon which one-third of the Statue of Liberty was actually based.

11 days off coming right up...

What the hell to do??

One day: Take public transportation to downtown to look at Christmas lights, plus see a movie at the downtown Violet Crown theater: Churchill, or Three Billboards, or The Shape of Water.

One day: Take public transportation to the new Austin library that just opened:

Ummmm.... And then... Clean my apartment (the living-room rug definitely needs vacuuming)? Use my new camera that I haven't yet figured out to take pictures of stuff to sell on eBay? Go into work and earn credits that I don't need? OK. Oh, and go dump the 4 bags of clothes I've sorted out into a charity bin.

There. Stuff to do.

Monday, December 18, 2017

When no one loves you...

...think back to when someone loved you.

In very dark times lately, I keep seeing Ginny's face peering into the stock-room of the K-Mart where I worked in Azle as a teen. I normally worked in the women's department out on the floor, but someone that day had told Ginny that I was back in the stock-room. She peered in, with her hair Vaselined, and wearing a sleeveless shirt that we'd both recently just bought from K-Mart, in different colors.

Vaselined. It was 1983, and we didn't know about hair products. The girl had coated her hair with Vaseline, and put on the sleeveless shirt, and come to show me. I remember her smiling face at the doorway, and me grinning back at her.

She later left me, but before she did:

One time I was at home suffering greatly from menstrual cramps, to the point where I couldn't leave my bed without throwing up; I even had a bucket beside my bed. Ginny came over. And the second she showed up at my bedroom doorway, a wave of what I now know as "endorphins" took over.... No more cramps, no more nausea. A miracle.

What else? Oh yeah, when I once spent the night with her as a teen, her parents' house had a ventilation system that blew air upwards upstairs: I accidentally stepped over the vent and my nightgown blew up... "I feel like Marilyn Monroe!" I quipped. It was funny; she laughed.

I dunno, a hundred other things. We went with her family to Georgia together. We stayed in a hotel room with her parents and watched "Endless Love" on cable, trying to be quiet.

Point is, she left me. Point is: Someone once loved me. Today, in my darkness, I remember how her happy face (and her terribly Vaselined hair) looked at the K-Mart doorway. I remember how she miraculously made my cramps go away. (I remember our car breaking down on the highway and the two cop-cars that passed us by without stopping to help; I remember our matching "Frances Lives" T-shirts bought from Ridgmar Mall in Fort Worth.)

Shortly after, I went off to college, thinking: "I'll experience many loves..." As it has turned out, I never experienced anything like Ginny. I came home from college for a summer or two, tried to re-connect with her... We watched "The Wall" together with her new love, Cindy, tagging along --- Ginny was horrified by the violence of the movie and left the theater; Cindy went with her. I stayed, admiring the film...

Once I was back in Austin, Ginny then came to visit me, trying to sell stolen CDs, and got busted... All a fucking mess.

She died in 1988, at 22, because she couldn't get a heart transplant.

Ginny didn't love me in the end, but... she did love me at one point. We wore intentionally matching shirts; we wore intentionally mis-matched socks. We slept in a hotel room watching "Endless Love" together with her parents in the next bed.

I have nothing in my life today, but I remember.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

I haven't talked to anyone on a deeper level for ages...

At the office working overtime this Saturday, ran into a couple of co-workers. One, originally from Turkey, in Austin for 5 years, lived in London, Portland, Toronto; offered jobs in Dubai, Saudi Arabia, et al., which he didn't take because of the societies.

I stood there in the hallway and talked to him for over an hour about different places to live, different public transportation systems, different political systems, different religious beliefs, the current international immigration crisis, how the Japanese are a very organized society (and very helpful when seeking transportation advice), and the curiosity of living in Austin above a neighbor whose apartment is completely trashed... He is defensive about thinking that Austin is "just OK." I've been in the town since '83, with a couple of breaks, and I told him that Austin hasn't been good since the early '90s.

He's off tomorrow to London, then to his family's vacation house in Turkey for the holiday season. Not looking forward to the air travel because of how ill-organized it is nowadays. Once on the Continent, he'll travel by train...

I'm not sexually attracted to the man, but I am very much attracted to the dozens of countries he's lived in, and his sociological opinions of all of them. I can't remember the last time that I had an intellectual/personal conversation with anyone.

Monday, December 04, 2017

The Rolling Stones - Just My Imagination (Live, 1978)

I look out my window, watch her as she passes by
I say to myself I'm such a lucky guy
To have a girl like her is a dream come true
And of all the girls in New York she loves me true

It was just my imagination, once again
Running away with me
It was just my imagination
Running away with me

Soon we'll be married and raise a family
Two boys for you, what about two girls for me
I tell you I am just a fellow with a one track mind
Whatever it is I want baby I seek and I shall find
I'll tell ya

It was just my imagination, once again
Running away with me
It was just my imagination
Running away with me

Every night I hope and pray
"Dear lord, hear my plea
Don't ever let another take her love from me
Or I will surely die"

Her love is ecstasy
When her arms enfold me
I hear her tender rhapsody
But in reality, she doesn't fucking know me!

Sunday, December 03, 2017

The Rolling Stones - Shattered - 1978

Shattered, shattered
Love and hope and sex and dreams
Are still surviving on the street
Look at me, I'm in tatters!
I'm a shattered
Friends are so alarming
And my lover's never charming
Life's just a cocktail party on the street
Big Apple
People dressed in plastic bags
Directing traffic
Some kind of fashion
Laughter, joy, and loneliness and sex and sex and sex and sex
Look at me, I'm in tatters
I'm a shattered
All this chitter-chatter, chitter-chatter, chitter-chatter 'bout
Shmatta, shmatta, shmatta -- I can't give it away on 7th Avenue
This town's been wearing tatters (shattered, shattered)
Work and work for love and sex
Ain't you hungry for success, success, success, success
Does it matter? (Shattered) Does it matter?
I'm shattered.
Ahhh, look at me, I'm a shattered
I'm a shattered
Look at me- I'm a shattered, yeah
Pride and joy and greed and sex
That's what makes our town the best
Pride and joy and dirty dreams and still surviving on the street
And look at me, I'm in tatters, yeah
I've been battered, what does it matter
Does it matter, uh-huh
Does it matter, uh-huh, I'm a shattered
Don't you know the crime rate is going up, up, up, up, up
To live in this town you must be tough, tough, tough, tough, tough!
You got rats on the west side
Bed bugs uptown
What a mess, this town's in tatters I've been shattered
My brain's been battered, splattered all over Manhattan
Uh-huh, this town's full of money grabbers
Go ahead, bite the Big Apple, don't mind the maggots, huh
Shadoobie, my brain's been battered
My friends they come around they
Flatter, flatter, flatter, flatter, flatter, flatter, flatter
Pile it up, pile it high on the platter

"What made you question fake media?"

My cousin asked me on Facebook yesterday: "What made you question fake media?"

I'm a bit slow... I didn't fully get it until the spring of 2016 ---- Syrian refugees streaming into Europe. I read the UK Daily Mail, which showed photos of the refugees... From the UK Daily Mail, I learned that the refugees were refusing to stop in countries like Hungary --- the first to take them. Instead, they were holding out for Sweden and Germany --- the countries that offered the best benefits.

At the same time, US media, and US State Department spokespeople, were saying that Syrian refugees were "primarily women and children." I'd seen the pictures on Daily Mail, and I knew that said refugees were 95% men. The Daily Mail also showed photos of refugee camps; in one photo, there was a sign: "Borders are Racist."

At that point, I knew I was being lied to. REAL refugees would simply want to get out of their war-torn country. They wouldn't distinguish among which European country offered better benefits; they certainly wouldn't stop to offer a "Borders are racist" left-wing philosophy --- real refugees would have held up signs saying "Help Us."

Trump was campaigning right about then....And he pointed out everything that I just said above. And he also pointed out, more seriously,
how it wasn't right for US companies to invest globally and not in our own country. He also pointed out that constant global wars weren't productive in any way.

Fake news? George W Bush and Barack Obama --- the most incompetent Presidents in our country's history --- got a million passes. Bush stood for nothing; Obama tried to illegally pass socialist programs without Congressional support, as required by law. Post these two?

Trump, who has no skin in the game, is trying to Drain the Swamp, clean up the mess.

Ooops, sorry! I didn't answer your question re questioning "fake media":

I used to watch nothing but CNN and MSNBC. I only started watching Fox about 6 years ago because I was curious about how horrible everyone was painting it out to be. As it turned out, every Fox show features Democrats with contradicting opinions, whereas, today, CNN and MSNBC only offer anti-Trump propaganda --- as an independent thinker, I can't watch them.

Saturday, December 02, 2017

Thank you, ABC, for being honest.

After erroneous Flynn report, ABC News suspends Brian Ross:

A president-elect contacting Russia (December 2016) re that country's stance on Israel, Isis, or whatever isn't "collusion."

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Illegal multiple felon acquitted after murder

This piece of shit, who had been deported 6 times from the United States for criminal activities, was protected by sanctuary city San Francisco and allowed to stay in the US, even though San Francisco knew there was a federal warrant out for him. He then "accidentally" killed a US resident walking on a dock in San Francisco. And was just tonight acquitted of even a manslaughter charge.

As I mentioned in the post just below:

And anyone wonders why people, even people with Master's degrees like me, voted for Trump. It's EXACTLY because of sick shit like this that's presented as "normal," that's BEEN presented as normal for a long time now. ENOUGH. Drain the fucking Swamp.

Texas State Editorial = White People Degenerate


This Texas State (San Marcos, a half-hour south of Austin) student editorial makes me sick. Writer Rudy Martinez says that, until 4 years ago when he moved to Texas from Miami, he'd never met white people. And now that he has, he thinks we're all (except for @12 of us) degenerate and should be eliminated.

Now just imagine if a white person today had written the exact same thing in a student paper regarding either blacks or Hispanics: "I've never met many of them, but they're obviously degenerate."

How in the world did this racist shit get accepted in a university paper? What in the hell was the paper's editor thinking? Oh, wait... Nowadays, it's trendy to be racist against white people, especially by media-brainwashed trend-conscious young white people. I forgot. Just as I "forgot" that, yes, there are now places in the United States where someone can, probably correctly, claim to never have met a white person. (Yeah, immigration from whatever backward third-world countries has gotten WAY out of control.)

And anyone wonders why people, even people with Master's degrees like me, voted for Trump. It's EXACTLY because of sick shit like this that's presented as "normal," that's BEEN presented as normal for a long time now. ENOUGH. Drain the fucking Swamp.

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Rolling Stones - LIttle T-n-A

The Rolling Stones - Hang Fire

Marrying Money is a full-time job...

The Rolling Stones - Shattered - 1978

Thanksgiving Stones - Beast of Burden (1978)

Driving home on Thanksgiving on the wonderfully empty streets of Austin after 6 very productive hours at work in an empty building on a holiday, then stopping for beer and gas after.

This song coming on the radio at this instant suited my mood perfectly.

Fuck you, "Family and Friends and Former Romantic Pursuits and Austin" for how you usually are. (You have almost always sucked.)

This song by chance on the radio today on the unusually empty streets made me feel like myself, made me remember myself, how clear-headed things can be.

New York City, Weehawken, Joan Crawford = The only things that have never let me down.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Illumination re Parents

Back in '77 or so, when I was 12 and my parents were at the tail end of their 15-year marriage.... After some generically nasty ways they'd treated me one evening, I got an illumination: "They're not on your side." Seems simple. But... who wants to recognize that about their own parents???

It's a terrible thing to understand.

I acknowledged it mentally that night, but then forgot about it... Forgot how to deal with it. Today, at 52, I must remember the clarity of that thought and reality. And deal with it.

Charles Manson: Cease To Exist (1967 recording session)

Friday, November 17, 2017

Children Learn What They Live (1972)

Children Learn What They Live
By Dorothy Law Nolte, Ph.D.

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.

If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.
Copyright © 1972 by Dorothy Law Nolte

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

$20 for this 1927 first edition!!!

Sometimes gotta love the market... when it's ignorant! :) 
Duncan is "out" right now.

"You were wild once. Don't let them tame you."
---Duncan to America, 1923 (on her last tour)

Monday, November 13, 2017

#MeAt14 (Twitter meme)

. A Twitter meme trying to explain to the general public that a 14-year-old girl is not interested in attention from 30/40/50-year-old men.

1979. For my 14th-birthday slumber party, me (at top) and my friends dressed up as KISS and pranced around my mother's house and goofed around afterwards. We just wanted to have fun and dress up like our favorite band. (I didn't have sex 'til I was 23; I wasn't raped 'til I was 35.)

Friday, November 10, 2017

Bobby Doyle Trio - My Mammy (1962)

With Kenny Rogers on standup bass.

I saw Bobby Doyle every few weeks in the early '90s at a tiny Austin club called Ego's. (Still around, but now a generic karaoke bar; in the day, it had a decidedly murky "Blue Velvet" out-of-time feel to it, with middle-aged bouffanted waitresses, about 10 patrons, and the ageing, blind Bobby Doyle solo on a piano strung with Christmas lights.)

Kenny Rogers: She Believes in Me (1979)

When I first heard this at age 14 in 1979, I thought it was corny.
Today, I think it's profound.
"God, her love is true."

While she lays sleeping
I stay out late at night and play my songs
And sometimes all the nights can be so long
And it's good when I finally make it home, all alone
While she lays dreaming
I try to get undressed without the light
And quietly she says how was your night
And I come to her and say
It was all right, and I hold her tight

And she believes in me
I'll never know just what she sees in me
I told her someday if she was my girl
I could change the world
With my little songs, I was wrong
But she has faith in me
And so I go on trying faithfully
And who knows maybe on some special night
If my song is right
I can find a way

While she lays waiting
I stumble to the kitchen for a bite
And I see my old guitar in the night
Just waiting for me like a secret friend
And there's no end while she lays crying
I fumble with a melody or two
And I'm torn between the things that I should do
And she says to wake her up when I am through
God her love is true

And she believes in me
I'll never know just what she sees in me
I told her someday if she was my girl
I could change the world
With my little songs, I was wrong
But she has faith in me
And so I go on trying faithfully
And who knows maybe on some special night
If my song is right
I can find a way
While she waits
While she waits
For me

Islands In The Stream Live (1983)

I've been listening to the 2-disc Dolly Parton's Greatest Hits for the past couple of days. This song was great on CD, but upon watching the below 1983 video: Dolly was annoying as hell -- completely spastic and too-revved-up and jerking back and forth and chortling. Was it her? Was it the "vitamin shots" someone had given her? (And Rogers, previously relatively mellow, also starts gesticulating wildly a la Dolly, trying to get in tune with her... The forced vivacity is kind of painful to watch.)

I haven't read any Dolly bios: Was she known to have been on drugs in the early '80s?

Wednesday, November 08, 2017

What Happened.

RAW VIDEO: Activists disrupt rally featuring Sen. Bernie Sanders

The moment I chose between populists: The wimpy Sanders, or (see video in below entry) the fighter Trump. I will NEVER vote for anyone who backs up the way Sanders did here.

One reason why I decided to vote for Trump

The below video was one of the first moments when I decided to vote for Trump (shot at an Ohio rally in the spring of 2016).

Black Lives Matter representatives had recently physically taken the microphone away from Bernie Sanders.

I watched the Sanders humiliation. And then I watched the below physical Trump reaction to a threat. If I had been previously torn between the two populists, these moments helped decide the issue.

You might want a passive wimp in your personal life, but running the country? I want a tough guy. Just as I wanted a "tough guy" negotiating international business deals favorable to the US. (Sanders, on the other hand, had been a Senator for his whole life --- he'd never actually DONE anything in the real world.)

Donald Trump VICTORY SPEECH | Full Speech as President Elect

Opening 4 minutes by Pence are dull. I liked the speech, but even more interesting was watching the last 15 minutes as he was making his way out of the hall. I'd been following his campaign on C-SPAN for the past year, where the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want" was always prominent at his appearances.

Donald Trump WINS Election 2016 Compilation

A GREAT night! And I fell asleep on the couch before it was official (!), waking up just in time for the acceptance speech...

Congrats, President Trump! One year ago tonight.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Nonsensical plea from Internet's Mozilla

Opening my Internet home-page today, found this missive from Mozilla Firefox:

Big corporations want to restrict entry. Fake news and filter bubbles are making it harder for us to find our way. Online bullies are silencing inspired voices. And our desire to explore is hampered by threats to our safety and privacy. It’s time to join Mozilla and do our part as digital citizens. Donate today to support programs that keep the internet healthy, free and open for us all. 

(1) It's not "big corporations" trying to restrict Internet usage. (Are you kidding? Corporations want ads, that's all.) It's the government seeking control, and sometimes rightfully so: i.e., radical Muslims and Russian operatives being allowed uncensored access to the Internet. I applaud any government that tries to limit any such radicals from posting their propaganda (via Firefox, for example).

(2) RE "Fake news and filter bubbles making it harder for us to find our way." Are you KIDDING? YOU, Firefox, are responsible for said "fake news" appearing on any platform that you control. If fake news is a problem, then DO YOUR JOB and edit out the fake news.

(3) RE "Online bullies are silencing inspired voices." Ha! I'm an Independent. And what's been happening online lately is a concerted effort to stifle any voice that doesn't correspond to current left-wing PC group-think. The leftists are the so-called "online bullies." Please maintain your independence, Mozilla, and don't align with the decidedly UNHEALTHY thought-fascists.

Not Situated

[why blue text? because this site won't let me change it; I've tried a dozen times]

On quiet nights like this (what? Halloween?), I love my apartment. It's big (1200 sq ft) and pretty (I especially like the wall of white stone with fireplace), and there are a lot of things to work with, lots of decorating plans to potentially enact.

Trouble is, the place is 50% placid, 50% ennervating. The "dudes" hanging out from last April (when I moved in) thru July have been quieted thanks to the firm actions of the apartment management. From July thru October, the only "problem" I had was with the maintenance room being located next door to my apartment. And I decided that I could handle those DUDES banging around. Especially after a new "old guy" was hired; he's over 50, and since his hiring, the room is no longer a hangout. (As it should never have been to begin with! Get out there and fix something, DUDES!)

As of early October , though, I have new neighbors on the other side of me: 20-something DUDES who have been blasting their music at various hours. There's also a new fat chick who lives behind me whose dog is a barker: for hours at a time, depending on when it gets triggered. Sometimes in the early morning, sometimes after 10pm, sometimes from 5pm on and on.

I can't relax. And, at $1300 per month, I want to finally be able to relax. One of the photos below shows the big stack of boxes left over from when I moved in last April: I don't want to discard them, because I might need them again this coming April! Another photo (by the kitchen table) shows a big box with an unpacked outdoor patio set. I initially bought this at my last apartment, thinking that my space there was relaxed enough to allow me to sit outside... it was not. Nor is my current space, even though it has a backyard area (fully in view of a whole bank of residents). In the spare-bedroom shot, you can see an unpacked carpet (new) plus framed turn-of-the-century Weehawken portraits that I have had from my last apartment and have STILL never hung anywhere.

I can't seem to get out of flux. Dang. $1300 should have bought me a bit of peace, I thought.

Monday, October 30, 2017

Isadora Duncan harangue, 1915 American tour

"Don't you know what's wrong with you? It's those hideous brick buildings across the street! They would make anyone sick! That's what's the matter with you Americans! Why do you live in such ugliness? You are all going to die of it some day. It's going to kill you all, every last one of you... Where have you been, all of you, all your lives? Haven't you ever gone anywhere? Haven't you ever seen anything? Haven't you ever loved anybody? Hasn't anybody ever been kind to you? What is it that makes you willing to live with such hideous things around you?"

This is her screaming at an audience. This has been me screaming at the only audience I have -- on social media -- for the past 7 years, out of utter desolation and loneliness. True in a warped way, yet meaningless and emotionally self-destructive.

1895-1908 Loie Fuller's Serpentine Dance

Clips from various dancers, but all imitated from Loie Fuller's original dance performed at the Folies Bergere of Paris. Imagine seeing this at the turn of the 20th century! How unique and interesting! (While the clips here are colorized, Fuller actually incorporated colored lighting into her club show.)

Isadora Duncan

I've always disliked Isadora Duncan. I didn't like her face to begin with; I didn't like the stupid Greek tunics. I thought the legend of her childrens' drowning and of her own death via scarf ("Affectations can be dangerous," said Gertrude Stein at the time) were part of her pretentiousness.

Her magnate lover, Paris Singer, helped me understand. When Duncan asked him why he stayed with her, he replied: "You have the most beautiful skin, and you never bore me." He eventually left her forever after he'd rented Madison Square Garden for her and she mocked his gesture in front of others.

After reading "Isadora: A Sensational Life" by Peter Kurth for the past few days, I like her much better. She's still pretentious (and obnoxiously slutty---sleeping with over 1,000 men, according to her one and only husband, the 18-years-younger Russian poet Esenin, himself a drunken slut).

But there's also something THERE. I think she was sincere in her desire to express a universal music in dance, and to teach others to express the same. I'm not certain, but I believe she is considered the founder of modern dance; she especially hated ballet and its rigid forms. Ballet still survives, of course. But so does Duncan's then-newfangled concept of "natural" dance which, combined with Loie Fuller's elevated, enhanced "skirt dance" performed in Paris (with accompanying light show) at the turn of the last century, are together the foundation of modern dance. (Fuller the modern, technological innovator; Duncan, the "back to nature," "free-love" purist --- both a radical departure from the established mores of the time.)

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

"Places In the Heart" Final Scene

I woke up at 2am yesterday with TCM on, and caught "Places in the Heart" for the first time in over 20 years. Here's the final scene (some in the pews are dead).

I could not stop crying.

Rescue Fantasy

I don't have one. Truly, I don't. I never have.

I think, while growing up, that my mother's hard-core judgmentalism always somehow outweighed my father's abusive tendencies. I was emotionally abused by both parents, and frightened by my father, but the latter was always stopped in his tracks when he tended toward sexual abuse. For instance: At age 12, I was sunbathing in the backyard. My father came outside to join me. He then suggested that I take off my bikini top. I didn't feel comfortable doing so, and refused. He then went on a tirade that involved making me take down every single Bay City Rollers poster on my bedroom wall. Emotionally traumatic, but, as I always did, I immediately told my mother when she got home. I "got to" put the posters back up a day or so later. And my father never suggested such a thing again. (They divorced later that same year, so I luckily got to avoid any further sexual suggestions on his part.)

That said... Was my "telling" a "rescue fantasy"? I guess it could have been. But I also had a firm belief in the power of telling "authorities" and thinking things would then turn out OK. I didn't have to fantasize because, while I was often under great mental stress at home, I also had a sort of outward structure: My mother was never going to let anything TOO bad happen. (At the very end of their marriage, that year, my father finally pulled a gun on my mother after she wouldn't go in the bedroom with him after he'd come from drinking. He chased her outside and shot at her a couple of times. That was the worst I'd ever seen. I was relieved to discover that THAT was, indeed, the very last straw for her --- she then filed for divorce.)

So that's me. A shitty, violent dad; a mother drawing lines only after it came down to truly horrible stuff. I survived it. And I'm glad for the line-drawing. 99% of my adult life, I've been self-sufficient.

I do have a question, though, about someone that I've known for about 9 years now. When I met her online in '08, she had just lost 18 years of child support, was then being supported by an older Sugar Daddy. When he was declared senile by his children, she lost her sponsored apartment and was forced to beg relatives/friends for support. One old family friend paid her rent for year; after that, a fellow AA member gave her a spot on his couch. Even that is now about to end.

Now, this woman was raised rich; her father died early, her mother lost his money to vultures... I think she has a perpetual Rescue Fantasy.

I've tried to help her, for years, to get a job: Working up a resume for her, sending job notices that I found online, explaining how easy it was to get a simple, cushy part-time job with the state... No desire at all for any self-help. She'd prefer to sleep on someone else's couch rather than work for even a one-room place of her own.

She's nearing 60. At what point does the "Rescue Fantasy" end? Of course, it doesn't. Even when speaking to her a couple of weeks ago, she joked about a "Russian" rescuing her from her financial plight. (That wealthy Russian oligarchs might prefer 30-ish nubile young women to a 60-year-old didn't seem to deter her.)

Me in this equation: I care about her, but my idea of "rescuing" is offering a room for a few months and helping with a job search. Not sexy. Not the stuff of fantasy. Our internal needs don't intersect at all.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Gordon Craig on Isadora Duncan

Isadora Duncan by Edward Gordon Craig.

All things have only an imaginary existence...
For the remembering of an act --- "I went with her
through those lighted streets and we
bought our supper from three or four shops" ---
is greater than the act itself....
Beyond wonder wonderful --- that seemed and seems
as I see those shops --- that street ---
the lights, it becomes again so wonderful
that I turn sick with pain of gazing --- It is gone
by --- that glimpse.


An earlier recollection of Craig, after seeing Duncan dance for the first time in 1904:

Only this can we say --- that she was telling to the air the very things we longed to hear, and till she came we had never dreamed we should hear...

Traveling Wilburys - Handle With Care (1988)

I've been uptight and made a mess
but I'll clean it up myself, I guess
Oh, the sweet smell of success
Handle me with care

Oh, goodness

I've recently been in sporadic e-mail contact, via Facebook, with the subsequent "best friend" of the girl I loved my senior year of high school and "left" when I went off to college at UT Austin. (I put "left" in quotes because neither of us knew anything about "love." She and I were very close. Closer than I've been to anyone since. Once I went off to college, Ginny found a new "best friend"; she left me.)

A couple of weeks ago, I Facebook-messaged the friend: "Happy Birthday to Ginny!" (who had died in 1988).

She messaged me back, saying she'd called Ginny's mother on that day...

I replied back with my shallow memories: "I remember that Ginny always spoke harshly to her mother; and is her father still around? I remember that he always drank a dozen Cokes per day..."

What was I trying to prove? That I also had memories of Ginny's parents? Ginny and I used to want to explore different religions. We once tried to find a Unitarian church in Fort Worth and got lost. Her parents questioned us upon our return --- we didn't look like we'd been to church. I also traveled with the whole family to Georgia in the summer of '83 to visit Ginny's grandmother. The car trip, the hotels, the bedroom, the return...

At the time, I thought, "Oh, this is just the end of high school. I'm going off to college. I'm a hotshot. I'll experience hundreds of other intimate moments like this." In fact, I have never since experienced such intimate moments.

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Traveling Wilburys: End Of The Line (1988)

Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, doing the best you can
Well it's all right, as long as you lend a hand

You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring
Waiting for someone to tell you everything
Sit around and wonder what tomorrow will bring
Maybe a diamond ring

Well it's all right, even if they say you're wrong
Well it's all right, sometimes you gotta be strong
Well it's all right, as long as you got somewhere to lay
Well it's all right, everyday is Judgment Day

Maybe somewhere down the road a-ways
You'll think of me, wonder where I am these days 
Maybe somewhere down the road when somebody plays
Purple Haze

Well it's all right, even when push comes to shove
Well it's all right, if you got someone to love
Well it's all right, everything'll work out fine
Well it's all right, we're going to the end of the line

Don't have to be ashamed of the car I drive
I'm just glad to be here, happy to be alive
It don't matter if you're by my side
I'm satisfied

Well it's all right, even if you're old and gray
Well it's all right, you still got something to say
Well it's all right, remember to live and let live
Well it's all right, the best you can do is forgive

Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, even if the sun don't shine
Well it's all right, we're going to the end of the line

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Austria election: Sebastian Kurz set to become the world's youngest leader

The wave of the future. No more globalist, corporate control of countries.

Many artists are somewhat stupid

Love Joan Crawford as I might, when I've been in contact with local actors in local plays, and attended their shows and after-parties... They were silly and self-involved and downright stupid. Same with local artists at their shows. Local musicians? Eh... I went home with one one night and got to sit around in his living room talking to his roommate while the "musician" himself was off shooting up in a back bedroom. (Musicians, at least, don't seem to be pretentious --- they're just boring. Unless you like to sit around listening to them "noodling" for 6 or more hours an evening --- I don't. I've been able to stand it for about 45 minutes.)

I'm 52 now, and I've been around a bunch of people, in both academic and artistic environments... Scientists and business-people are actually the smartest. (In the academic environment, Liberal Arts and Communications professors are the dumbest/least original.)

I've currently spent 9 years of my life chasing after a so-called poet/artist that I knew from a poetry class back in the '80s. She was great circa '86. What she's doing now: Living with random people and off random never-quite-sufficient oil checks. And complaining because her sister gets to go on $40,000 ski trips. (Her sister married better than this so-called artist did.)

Her "dilemma" was interesting to me circa 2008. In 2017, though... I'm bored as shit with her. Nine years ago, I was a loser who couldn't find a job, and she was a loser who couldn't find a rich man to support her. Today... I'm making $16,000 more per year than I was making 9 years ago. And she: Still scruffing around and looking for a sucker to pay her bills.

Kellywise - SNL

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Heart: Crazy On You

Happy Birthday, Ginny (October 11).
I didn't get either Heart or Rickie Lee Jones, her favorites, at the time.


Happy Birthday to Ginny Haney today, October 11. She died at 22. She would have been 52 today.

She listened to this with me in 1983 because I absolutely had to hear it. Yoko and John are ridiculous to me today, but I still remember, and am grateful for, a 17-year-old Ginny's patience. (Probably why she abandoned me a year later!) :)

Monday, October 09, 2017

Tammy Bruce


Milquetoast Republicans Like Charles Sykes: No More

Never-Trumper Republican Sykes (exactly the type of person that I hate worse than Hillary Clinton, whom I never hated until her disgustingly false behavior in 2016 and until learning the extent of the Clinton Foundation corruption; in fact, I voted for her against the nothing Obama in the Democratic primaries in 2008) and interviewer Tammy Bruce on C-SPAN while I was using C-SPAN to go to sleep Sunday night. Sykes was a complete generic Jeb Bush idiot (again --- I would vote for Hillary Clinton before I would EVER vote for someone like Jeb Bush). 

Tammy Bruce, a conservative herself, calmly discussed with Sykes the fact that Trump, while no Republican (thank god for that), was, nonetheless, an agent of change who was attempting to get rid of both Democratic and Republican orthodoxies... As I drifted off, I was thinking, "Thank you, Tammy Bruce, whoever you are. You are asking sane, rational questions of this epitome of Republicanism that I absolutely HATE." The guy, Sykes, decried Trump for "acting bizarrely," among other shallow and stupid things, like being a "fraud." (If there's one thing that Trump is not, it's emotionally fraudulent: I challenge anyone to name one thing he said on the campaign trail that he's not attempted to follow up with as President.)

I ended up staying awake to watch the whole thing. I woke up the next day wondering who Bruce was. Turns out she's similar to me: Bisexual, feminist, Democrat up until 2008 (me, until 2012) --- when she (and I) realized that something has gone horribly wrong with the Democrat social experiment that began in 1968 or so.

Former radio host and MSNBC contributor Charles Sykes looks at the conservative movement in America. He is interviewed by Tammy Bruce, Fox News contributor and host of The Tammy Bruce Show.

Friday, October 06, 2017

Trump: A Real Man

Compare how Trump reacts to an intruder to how Bernie Sanders reacted to the BLM gals. Trump is a fucking old-school Stud. I admire that sexy, macho lost breed.

RAW VIDEO: Activists disrupt rally featuring Sen. Bernie Sanders

Bernie Sanders, weakling. Why I couldn't support him last year. Trump, on the other hand --- when someone charged HIS stage, he set his feet and turned directly to confront. A real man.

Trump and Sanders were the only candidates to address the outsourcing of American workers. Those were the two I was interested in. But when I saw Sanders give in to these radicals, I was completely repulsed by his weakness. Not to mention, when I thought about it, his complete ignorance of any concept of how the economy runs. Why wouldn't Trump be the best choice?

Tuesday, October 03, 2017

Tapped Out

The blessings were mixed, the whole mess licked clean
from a horsehair bowl some joker's dada had left him

Our avid lapping the envy of each starved cat
curled nearby, unpurring, eyes narrowed to watchful slits
skirting the edges, stilettoes mincing convincingly

Oh, the trouble we stirred up --- sometimes with splintery
wooden spoons pricking our outstretched tongues
Sometimes with blenders whose tops blew off, splattering walls.
We licked it like that.


The trees of our land have scars
where pioneers nailed their barbed wire.

And when the worms have had their way
with flesh and wood alike

The rust still runs through ---
swallowed by the stubborn knots
of both fury and patience.


The you that I miss was never there
We met in air, and dispersed with as little mass

Which came first
My wish, or the way you were

I was never sure
which way the wind blew
without clouds occasionally kind enough
to leave clues in a wide, vacant sky


All her incantations couldn't conjure
one last drop of even bad luck
from the dregs of Old Jude's bag of tricks.

(I am not ashamed
to say the heart stopped long ago)

Revival by needle, by glass, by knife
Every gash and prick alike
And this patron, once saintly, now too
all tapped out.

Monday, October 02, 2017

The Unwanted (Leaving Las Vegas)

I woke up to a massacre
I closed my eyes and waited for
Another fate than what awaited me

I could not guess what I had done
To dream the wrong end of a gun
(The living lure much more than I can flee.)

I'm sure it all began more civilly
With a note, perhaps: "Will you marry me?"
From an Elvis song, or from your first dead baby

I want to live, but I can't sing.
Just leave me at that. Leave me everything.

Sunday, October 01, 2017

I hate Austin. I hate it with all my heart.

You're not supposed to say that about the town you live in, especially if you've lived in it, give or take, for most of your adult life.

Or if you've bought thousands of dollars of furniture upon your return to the town once you got a job and could afford it, thinking this was where you were going to end up as an old person.


With all of my heart, I don't.




GET ME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


A 10/2/17 post-script to the above: Jesus! I had no idea I felt that strongly about it while in my cups! Sober, I don't feel quite that strongly. Dilemma: Listen to sober or drunk self about true feelings?? :) Honestly, I don't remember writing the above. There are minor day-to-day irritations, and I certainly don't have any connection to Austin today, as I once did in the '80s --- the town has changed drastically and become drastically generic at its core, with only the veneer of its once-funky self... I guess I do hate it now. Used to be cheap and funky. Today, it's super-expensive (thanks to influx of tech people) and pretending to be funky. Do I hate it because it's truly lost its charm or because I'm too old to compete for anything in its future? I am truly upset that at 50K per year, I cannot live in a decent place.