Archive: 2-1-06 to 3-27-06
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3/27/06
Let's say you're throwing a 4th of July BBQ in your back yard.
Your yard is actually damned big..there's lots of room for burning meat, plopping down a couple kegs and of course there's sufficient room for your 40 or 50 invited guests to mill around and have fun.
You decide that it would be fun to hire a band to play outdoors; you hire a group with 5 band members. They aren't union musicians or huge stars..just ham and egg rock musicians. You agree ahead of time to pay them $100 and let them eat and drink their fill. $100 isn't great pay for professional musicians..it's piss poor; but the band doesn't have any other prospects for playing that day. Besides, when the band plays at local clubs they often get stiffed when it's time to get paid or maybe get $20-$30.
Wanting to hit it off good with the band you offer to let them each bring a guest or date to enjoy the party.
The 4th arrives. Your guests begin showing up at the appointed time. The kegs are tapped. The homey aroma's of burnt animal flesh waft around your yard.
Eventually the band shows up to play. They've brought their significant others..and a few of their kids too. They have a roadie and a sound guy who also brought their girlfriends and a couple more kids.
As the band begans to play a few carloads of their fans and friends show up. You welcome them...and peel several $20 dollar bills out of your wallet to give to a buddy of yours to make a run to the grocery store for more food..you're running low due to all the unexpected guests.
The kegs start running low; you're in a quandry what to do. You don't want to be an asshole...but the band and it's friends and fans have powerful thirsts. They didn't bring any food or beverages though. Again, you don't want to be an asshole and ruin the good time..but you're running out of money. You budgeted a certain amount of funds for this party..and you you don't have a bottomless supply of it. Still not wanting to be an asshole you ask a few of your more well heeled friends if they could maybe head to a store and pick up a couple more kegs. They do so.
An hour later, several more carloads of the bands friends and fans have shown up and eaten lots of food and sucked the kegs dry without seeming to notice that 1) they weren't invited. 2) You've been nice enough to tolerate their prescence..none of them have thanked you for your hospitality..and that irks you a bit 3) that you're out of money. In spite of the fact that you own a nice house and yard and could afford to hire a band and buy some kegs and food....you don't have a money tree in your backyard. Your invited guests want to eat and drink..but all the uninvited people consuming the chow and the suds freely have gone through what you originally had budgeted and the extra stuff you sent for besides.
Finally, it doesn't matter whether you're perceived as an asshole or not; you can't fund these folks thirsts and appetites indefinetly...and so they have to go.
You grab the band microphone and tell the uninvited that they're going to have to leave. Why?? well, because they weren't invited for openers..and there's barely any food or beer left for the people who were invited.
You hear somebody scream angrily from the crowd in front of the stage..
"Invited...Uninvited..what's the difference??"
Another voice: "FASCIST ASSHOLE!!"
Another: "FUCK YOU!! We'll burn this place..there's more of "us" than you now.
You're shocked..slackjawed. You can't think of a response right away.
Another voice: "FUCK YOU!! we're gonna stay here..and you're gonna go get us more beer and food. And, we're gonna sleep here; we have just as much right to as you do!! Try to stop us"
You stagger away from the microphone...not knowing what the hell to do. Should you call the cops? It's likely some of these folks weren't 21 and are maybe holding drugs. Plus, it may turn into a brawl just like a few of them are threatening.
A few of your more badass invited friends approach you.
"Hey...we'll get rid of these leeches for you. Just say the word!!"
Another one points out that some of the uninvited guests are on cell phones telling their friends to come on over to the free BBQ and kegger.
WHAT DO YOU DO??
You can't feed and slake the thirsts and bed down all these people. Everything was OK until simply TOO MANY people showed up.
What do you do? You've been friends with a few of the bandmembers for a while..and again..you don't want to be an "asshole". But you're gonna have to go into debt if this party continues.
So what do you do??
Jesus spoke in parables....and so does Thee Whiskey Rebel. This story is obviously inspired by recent headlines.
What would Jesus do?? What would I do??
Stay tuned. Think it over until the next installment here.
3/26/06
I am now Thee Kosher Whiskey Rebel.
Twice now I've squirted the mixture of holy salt and luke warm water up my shnozz...and twice I've gagged..AAGGHHH!!!! and cursed "Son of a fucking Bitch"!! from the backwash as ritually purified snot splashed onto my mustache, goatee and bare chest (don't try it with a shirt on!).
There are other things happening in the world though..life goes on.
I'm horrified at the recent arrogant gestapo tactics adapted by the Texas alcohol control board; it seems that they're not satisfied with busting people who may deserve being incarcerated for driving drunk. Their new plan involves placing agents in bars (in cities like Austin where people travel to from far and wide to get shitfaced and listen to local music) to swoop down on people drinking who according to their criteria..which is murky....are "drunk". They don't wait for the individual to drive off in their car...or to even walk to the parking lot; they don't even check to see if the poor bastard has car keys or even a fucking car. They arrest them because they "might" decide to drive after becoming intoxicated.
They claim that it's all nice and legal because it's illegal to be drunk in public.
A local talk show host interviewed one of these goons and asked him HOW they know the poor S.O.B. is drunk....he answered in a smug tone of voice that THEY KNOW..they work the bars all the time and can tell. THEY ARE EXPERTS.
These experts arrested a tourist drinking at a table (I believe he was in town for SXSW) with a group of friends. There were no complaints, no fights involved. Just a group of folks drinking..just like you and I have a jillion times before. The guy stated that he had no plans to go anywhere..he was drinking in his hotel bar.
THAT WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH an excuse for the alcohol board double-knot spys; he was whisked away...with the lame explanation being that since they thought he was "drunk in public" they could haul his ass in.
I'm no lawyer..but I do know that: There's a big goddamned difference between actually commiting a crime and being in the position to do so without commiting said crime. Furthermore, contemplating a possible criminal act..such as perhaps talking about taking a drive after having a few...or mumbling to your pal "I'll KILL THE BITCH!!"is a far cry from actually presenting a danger to the public.
If you've read as many true crime books as I have you've certainly read many, many examples of creeps following somebody they're fixated upon around (lots of jilted lovers do this). If they don't actually physically acost the victim immediately they can get away with it..the legal excuse being that they haven't actually done anything yet. The cops don't bust stalkers because they MIGHT decide one day to kidnap and grind into mush the poor stalkee.
By the same logic, why should these strom troopers of holier than thou sobriety get away with their nonsense? Their excuse that the poor saps are "drunk in public" according to their judgement STINKS; why? for one reason it's obviously a clear, clear example of enforcing a law selectively. Bars aren't illegal in Austin. On any night you can see dozens of drunk people at any of the hundreds of bars. In the 100+ history of the city..why haven't they been arrested for being drunk?
The Austin police department sponsers an annual bar crawl as a charity benefit; why don't the officers wind up arresting each other? Never mind the fact that supposedly transportation is provided for them..what if..WHAT IF one of them should decide to try to drive home after a massive payload of 5 beers??? HHmm??? They "might" decide to drive..right?
To be fair to cops I don't think that most of them want to have anything to do with such chickenshit reasoning as leads to arresting tourists at their hotel tables.
If cops were ordered in Austin to arrest on sight anybody walking in the 6th street area looking publicly a bit inebriated they'd have to house them all at longhorn stadium up the road.
No. COPS DON'T WANT any further burden dumped upon them that defies common sense.
It's the tight ass, goody goody, smug liquor control jerkoffs like the guy I heard on the radio who pull these sort of acts UNDER THE GUISE OF PUBLIC SAFETY; ACTUALLY, THEY DO IT IN THE INTEREST OF FURTHERING THEIR CAREERS by chalking up "good numbers".
I've been at war this these pricks for many years (our first Alocoholics Unanimous 7" was titled "at war with the O.L.C.C." the Oregon state killjoy prudes.
I've come to expect these sort of games from these power hungry bureaucrats.
The people who REALLY get me pissed off are assholes like YOU or your MaDD Mom or your teacher or preacher who say things like: "well, I suppose it might be better to wait until they get into their cars to arrest them...BUT IF IT HELPS SAVE LIVES it's for the best".
This whole "if it saves just one life" mantra of course makes me wish for instant global nuclear annihilation.
It would WITHOUT DOUBT save "just one life" and then some if we...
1) banish automobiles
2) do away with all organized religions (a leading cause of global death for centuries)
3) draft laws making illegal the use of cellphones in automobiles( if we don't ban auto's outright)
4) Outlaw any food even ONE person has choked to death on once..
5) Disband and make illegal any sport or athletic pursuit someone has died from (including casual running..and bicycle riding).
I could go ON and ON and ON.
It never ceases to IRK THE FUCKING PISS out of me how many of you drones just go along with bullshit like this...even those of you who have a real reason to..particularly yee who have lost loved ones to drunk drivers.
Punish the people who commit the crimes..NOT the ones who "might"...or you're just helping to piss away our basic freedom. Spend our tax dollars pursuing repeat offenders and actual dangerous drunks behind the wheel..NOT innocent schmucks who haven't harmed anyone.
If you side with these pissants who want to play games with our basic rights just to fulfill an arrest quota..GO PISS UP A FUCKING ROPE; I FORBID YOU to visit this website again. If you do I might just track you down and give you a few diareah water squirts laced with kosher salt right up yer big fat ugly nose.
3/24/06
I'm going up on the fucking cross in a few minutes; I'm not sure whose sins I'll be paying for..maybe all of yours in combination with mine.
No, I'm not literally going to be crucified..only figuratively speaking. The pain and discomfort will be greater than bible era crucifixion.
It turns out that the steroids I took cleared things up enough in my noggin that the doc has assigned me not only 21 days of antibiotics...I'm supposed to flush out my nose and the space where my brain once was with kosher salt-water.
It's a rough way to convert to judaism. I wonder if I'll be eligable to live in Israel and fight in their army after 3 weeks of it? Cosmo?
Besides my problems with pills over the years I've also been unable to snort up lines of coccaine and meth like the rest of you due to the fact that I learned I suffer from a nasty case of nasal dripback. It wouldn't have been elegant for me to attend coke parties in the 70's and 80's with me heaving every time I did a line..so that's one pleasure I had to miss. Also, I have no more desire to do crank than suck farts out of seat cushions considering the ingrediants.
I WOULD like to be able to squirt that salt water up my snout without getting a mouthful of the stuff...but I'm afraid that's not gonna happen.
So, I finally learned how to swallow pills..and that cunt "karma" rewards me with self inflicted nasal carnage.
I will be brave and go through with it. If the gunk up there isn't dealt with it could become cancerous...and after watching my old man lose a tragic long drawn out 3 year bout with the big C I want no part of it.
I'll crank up Dick Dale's version of "hava nagila" (sp?) and let fly with the ritually pure water works..SHALOM!
3/21/06
Another appointment with my specialist tomorow; my hearing hasn't improved any more over the last couple days I haven't been drugging heavily at his instruction. I hope he prescribes another blast of drugs to get me over whatever it is I have..which nobody can seem to identify with a name.
I sucked it up and equipped with one fairly bad ear and one good one took the little lady to see her son and mine..Elvis..perform in a mainstage production at the university theatre.
Most of my friends with kids are much younger than us and have kiddies at the T-ball or elementary school holiday variety pageant level. It's VERY damned important to be there for your kids for that...and in my opinion it's best to not be an asshole and crack wise about it even if it looks a bit hokey. No matter WHAT the fuck it is you do in life or perhaps attempted to do but failed..you started out doing it in a lame fashion with supportive adults around.
Even if you have to get a bit lubricated or high for the occasion PLEASE..support your kids. I took Elvis to martial arts classes for years, baseball for years, etc. I saw his high school age band play live several times and even hauled their asses to a recording studio and managed to KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
I'm telling you parents..if you're patient and encourage them through the awkward younger stuff the payback later can be great.
Elvis's "part" in tonights production (a musical titled "the next amendment") was as a pit orchestra style drummer both backing songs and also using drum gimmicks and rim shots and the like to punctuate the dancing and dialogue. He played alongside one other musician..a pianist who also is the man who wrote this entire production many years ago; he's giving it one last run through.
My sons entire drumming experience prior to this shindig was playing with us at a few live Alcoholics Unanimous shows and of course in the studio with us on some unreleased tracks.
How in the hell did he get the part? Aren't there lots of drummers at Texas State who've spent their whole lives working towards playing gigs like that?
I guess he really picked it up fast. Of course it doesn't hurt that since he could walk he lived in a home filled with musical instruments. It doesn't hurt to have musicians for parents...and more specifically MY SWEET GENETIC INPUT...!!!!!!!!!
AAWWWWHHHHHHHOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!
Ooggaa chogga Oogga chogga Ooga chogga....
When I was in high school I was an active musician of course..classical, jazz, marching band, etc, etc. I was a multi-instrumentalist..Jack of all trades woodwind wise..selected for an all city high school orchestra (playing alto sax) conducted by the distinguished Norman Leydon. I stood out even more as one of the only competent bassoon players in the State. I knew the best man in the city who played for the symphony orchestra and made $$$ playing at sessions recording commercials. I turned down all talk of a scholarship at a prestigious local private college; HELL NO. I was too happy drinking beer and smoking tons of weed daily and listening to increasingly twisted rock and roll; I was set on attending University of Oregon...and enjoyed my job selling sporting goods at Sears.
Before I dropped all my music classes in my senior year (yeah..I did that) I had the chance to play in 2 pit orchestras that required the skills of multi-instrumentalists. I recall playing clarinet, tenor sax, soprano sax and I believe even a tiny bit of flute for "no no Nanette". I played a similar assortment of woodwinds for "funny girl". They supplied us with rack-like stands to hold all the damned things. We had to be at most of the rehearsals and I got to see how the theatre works up close..Ooga Chogga Oogga chogga...who was straight..who was gay..the laughter the tears..and for me the BLOODY AFTER SHOW BEERS...URP.
S0 how in the fuck did Elvis get a serious advanced level drumming gig?
Well, he tried out for it. They didn't need some jackass with a 36 piece drum kit; it called for somebody more like a swing era drummer than the dude from Krokus or that guy with the annoying arena rock mannerisms and dog cunt fucking face from Journey.
As Marla and I entered the theatre we saw our good 'ol A.U. drumkit ordered through the mail sitting off to one side by the piano with a specially painted front head.
It was a good play. I've seen a few productions ranging from Shakespeare in the park to Shakespeare at the official theatre in Stratford. Hey, I even saw Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell in London in 1972. More importantly, I saw Elvis in a couple high school productions and more recently him playing the pompous strutting Emp in a childrens production of the "emperor's new clothes".
He was an extra in a horror movie that hasn't been released yet.
I don't know how far his acting will take him; he's wisely working on his teachers certificate and the job market looks good for teachers.
I understand how for many years those of you that know me or have read this for a long time have probably had an overdose of Fatherly pride from me when describing his doings. The fact is though, the cast on that stage tonight was damned competent. He's in strong company...a lot of these people are going to act or teach professionally.
What the fuck?? I'm not like some kibitzing Father at a T-ball game; we've moved on beyond Akido classes on Saturday mornings and parent-teacher conferences. It's not like when he was very young and sensitive and we'd drive home after some important event for him and critique his performance.
Humping Jumping Jesus?? I've seen him deliver like an hour and a half of dialogue..how does he memorize it? I sure as fuck don't know. I can't even remember all the words to most of my favorite songs. There was a guy performing tonight who looked like he'd been studying dance since he was 8 frigging years old.. he KICKED ASS.
The days of us trudging down to some cheesy school auditorium to watch kids dressed up like trees or woodland sprites are long gone; these college level performers are so good they make me feel like a rube sitting there in the audience like just another dumbass PARENT.
We magically wound up in the very front row.
During the second act...HOLY SHIT...several cast members left the stage and selected audience members for "jury duty" (the play has a historical/political theme of sorts) I was lead to a corner of the front of the stage with a couple other confused audience members. Elvis says I didn't do anything stupid. I just remained mute and watched whomever was singing or dancing about.
SHIT FUCK!!!! Good thing this play wasn't written in 1968 I told El later..or else I would've probably been expected to shuck my clothes with the cast.
WOULDN'T THAT make for a lively diary entry?
I guess my point is that to you parents out there, they aren't going to be doing normal childish level stuff forever. Enjoy it while you can. The cycle continues and your assistance will soon be obsolete whether it's on a ball field, in a technical setting, board room or fastfood emporium.
On a completely different note, make sure you tune in to one of the most sacriligious TV shows of all time: Moral Orel. It's a part of the "adult swim" cartoon network roster. It's an obvious take-off on the old 50's "Davey and Goliath" moralistic show. Orel is on the surface an ultimate christian-drone goody goody child who makes Beaver Cleaver look like Lenny Bruce. He has a knack for taking his christian propaganda instruction too seriously with hilarious results utilizing themes like necrophilia, crack smoking and even Prince Albert piercings. It's a good thing in this case that they show these shows over and over again..if you wake up now you can catch up and see all the episodes. The church and all the easily offended groups out there don't seem to have discovered the show yet. It's gonna be fun when they do.
3/16/06
Hearing BOX SCORE: I'm NOT deaf..I'm only half deaf.
If you were this deaf you'd likely be upset or pissed or annoyed..to me it's a fucking relief.
I still have other symptoms and pains and shit to deal with (including getting the rest of my hearing back..or whats left) but for now I'm heading out the door to a bar to help welcome Germ to Texas. It'll be the first time I've been around anybody besides Marla and Elvis in a couple weeks I believe.
I don't think I'll be knocking back TOO many shots but beer tastes great on nights like this.
Maybe something even shittier will happen tomorrow to me...
Oh well. For now it's down to the bar and the jolly polluted air and drunken assinine dialogue. HEE HEE HEE.
I'll close with a Bukowski line (well..I think he stole it from somebody..but he liked to coin this one:) "no mans suffering is any greater than nature intended".
3/12/06
Hearing box score: I'm not "deaf" right now..and haven't really been all day. I don't have full hearing or anything near it..but things are happening in my frigging ear canals or sinuses or head-snot-troughs or whatever you call them.
The 'roids are working at least to some effective purpose.
I'm supposed to scale down the high dosage for the next several days. The last couple days of my assigned course of pill misery I'll be playing chess and it'll probably go better if I don't have some huge gut full of 10 pills.
The tournament I'm playing in has 2 sections and I'm required to play in the stronger one with the masters and experts and class "a"ranked people like me who are considered to be fed alive to them the first couple rounds. There's a fairly small cash prize I can win for doing better than the other people at my level.
I don't stand a chance of winning an event like this..but what the hell; I entered an identical event in Dallas not all that long ago and walloped a couple experts, drew the eventual winner and almost beat a guy who is at the low end of the master range. I tied for 4th or 5th..and paid for our hotel. You never know. I'm capable of bitch slapping a master who takes me lightly...or losing in 25 moves if I lose my focus on the game.
I'll be playing my PS2 computer the next few days to try to simulate the tournament in a system I've devised. It'll get the juices flowing.
SPEAKING OF GETTING THE JUICE FLOWING, I'm into getting drunk tonight. I've been a good boy throughout my winter of grief around here. I'm itching to get good and "LOOPED...high as a Georgia pine" as R&B singer Calvin Boze put it.
I'm just popping open my 4th Budweiser...and it tastes great. A few shots are called for eventually. It's gonna taste like nectar. I might even plop a record or two on.
Oh yeah...an early morning / late night or two ago during the first extended period I had a little bit of hearing back I honored my word to some extent and played some Johnny Ray. I got to thinking how few friends I've played him for. Of course Mike McNally knows all about him, but not very many other friends.
The songs you want to start with (just go download them from some internet site) are "the little white cloud that cried" "just walking in the rain" and the immortal "CRY".
I admire Johnny for being a true hedonist...he was bi-sexual pretty openly for the times (his heyday was the pre-rock years of the early 50's) a HUGE boozehound and a night owl who would come home every night to his pad after working some NYC night club to the permanent nightly party that was always going on there. Around dawn everybody would be loaded and he'd sit down at his piano and wail for his pals.
Anton LaVey wrote about natural born satanists who have no use for spells and incantations or pagentry but live lives that are so self-indulgent and therefore purposeful that he acknowledged their worth.
Johnny Ray fits that description perfectly. His songs were loaded with melancholy pathos and were sometimes right on the money takes on how sad life can be. The musical arrangements were typical for the era..they remind me of the sort of bittersweet tinpan alley backings worked up for Elvis Presley's non-rocking movie songs. It can seem corny if you're not familiar with 1950's recordings and don't understand how the greats were sending out carnal messages to us in spite of the bryl-cream hokeyness. If you've heard and enjoyed "green door" by Jim Lowe (the Cramps covered it) or the super depressing "is that all there is" by Peggy Lee (which might've been issued a few years into the 60's) or maybe Dino songs like "standin' on the corner watchin' all the girls go by"or "that's amore" or Louis Prima's "just a gigolo / I aint got nobody" (later bastardized in a so-so way by David Lee Roth) "Dem bones" by the Mills Brothers or "aint nobody here but us chickens" by Louis Jordan or Slim Gaillard's cover of "Babalu" you're probably ready to pour a big tall drink (TALL) and download Johnny Ray.
As I've pointed out here before..Johnny was a favorite (obviously) of King Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis (who patterned his piano stool kicking after Ray's nightly set highpoint) to name just two immortals.
He pissed off Sinatra big time; Ray was RED HOT when Frank was down in the shitter before his "from here to eternity" comeback. Frank also got pissed when Ava Gardner (or one of his women) panted a little bit too strongly at Johnny in some saloon in Hollywood. Oh well....Sinatra got pissed off at a lot of people. Par for the course.
Hey...how 'bout them Sex Pistols? Telling the rock and roll "hall of shame" not to bother inducting them? It's not really the "hall of fame" without Wanda Jackson and Chubby Checker anyway. I'd like to see them deliver their message in person..I'd even watch it prime time; but, we know that's not gonna happen. It's a pre-recorded sanitized event.
I'm off to drink and plop on some Beethoven...and then maybe some Chubby Checker since I just reminded myself of his greatness....UURRPP..
Hey, is it true that ol' Germ from Illinois is actually moving here in a few days..?? They'll need to stock the beer stores and bars that much fuller in this burg..BELCH..he's a natural Texan..he won't need any practice at all..
3/11/06
Well, I've been swallowing 10 pills a day..mostly steroids..to get my hearing back. had an hour long burst of light hearing ability in my "good" ear yesterday..and about 15 seconds in my "bad" ear (which has been hopeless for weeks) earlier today. In both cases I didn't expect it to last. It didn't.
About 15 minutes ago my "bad" ear cleared up some...just a bit..and it's hanging in there..although I don't expect it to stay clear instantly.
The good news is the medicine seems to be working. It's powerful shit..and the doctor who set me up is a specialist and not just some G.P...I have faith in him.
One nice thing about these steroids...I find myself several times per day posing down Jesse Ventura style in front of mirrors..Hhhmmm.
Odd that I can crack jokes having been deaf as a partisan talkshow host for 5 days.
Believe it or not (and if you know me personally you probably won't) I haven't thrown a single DEAF temper tantrum or gone into any fits of despair or rage.
I can't listen to music or talk radio. It's a bit terrifying being outside where creatures or neighbors can sneak up on me. TV isn't enjoyable when you're deaf (well, it's an improvement during commercials and prime time horseshit..it's a BLESSING to be deaf then) although I've kept up on Dallas reruns which I'm very serious about..and I'm about to watch a ROH DVD that one of the kindest, best friends I have in the world thought to send me.
Once again...chess has saved me in my hour of need. It gave me something to focus on when I had no friends as an adolescent and I've been following the U.S. Championship in San Diego and a big international event in Spain all week long. I've followed bits of 35+ games per day that way. It's kept me from FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. I've been posting often on chess discussion boards..which is as pointless at times as every other forum out there but what the hell.
A NOTE to anybody coming into town for South by Southwest!
A REMINDER in case you don't read this diary or read it in a pot haze.
I AM DEAF. D.E.A.F.
DEAF!!
I won't be going out to see ANY bands...there's nothing personal afoot if I don't come out to view yours..because I don't want to just SEE bands..I want to HEAR music or else I don't want to be there at all.
There are quite a few people from all over it'd be fun to go hang out with or invite over..but it's NOT GOING TO HAPPEN this year. I don't WANT to be around people right now. I'm OK until people are around and I'm reminded that I'm deaf.
If my hearing is lost forever..I'll have been fitted for a hearing aid by NEXT YEAR.
I love some of you..and I almost love many of you...have a good time. Dedicate a fucking song to me if you haven't crossed me off your list because I'm not there. Remember though....I AM DEAF. That means you can't communicate with me. You could play "stairway to heaven" using tele-tubby voices and I couldn't tell whether or not you were doing a calypso tribute ballad to Richard Simmons. Hank Sr. could come wafting up in a mist of hillbilly undertaker re-incarnation and join you on stage..and it wouldn't do me A BIT OF GOOD..
I AM DEAF.
I expect that I'll be getting my hearing back in bits and pieces through the week...but I'm gonna take what I get..and if I get even a smidgeon back..I'm gonna enter a nice quiet chess tournament in SanAntonio that's been vying for my attention.
Chess tournaments are the quietest fucking places. There's a tense mood about the room and a great deal of emotion being quietly expended..but the noise is directed to a side room usually designated for people to talk and piss and moan and make excuses and eat food noisily. You only need to be able to hear enough to understand if your opponent is offering you a draw or be able to tell if the damned building has caught on fire. I can handle that. I'm not sure what the pills will do to me..maybe I'll wind up ripping my shirt off and posing down on the table to the shock of my opponent. You never know about these 'roids. Maybe I'll start flapping my mouth like that knothead Barry Bonds or start slapping women around like some pumped up wrestlers.
If I do any of those things, expect to read about it here.
3/08/06
Yeah, I'm still deaf. Oh well..at least I was able to drink a few beers last night on top of the mountain of pills (none of their instructions seem to have any warnings about alcohol..or I wouldn't).
Some folks are deaf or blind or have maimed tools FOREVER so there's no sense whining about it I guess.
It's amazing how my pill phobia fell by the wayside when it became crucial to wash all the damned things down. Only one of the pills is big (to me) and I choked it down first..and was happy I didn't heave it up so I'd have to do it again.
I also have phobia's about carrying platters across a room, eating fruits with peelings, snakes, mild claustrophobia etc.
When I was a kid I developed a fear of walking down the street alone afraid that I'd get jumped by bullies. This came about because of some bad situations in our blissful suburb in Eugene Oregon. I WAS accosted by older bullies many times. I got shot in the head with a B B gun, pushed down a very steep hill in a toy wagon that was obviously going to roll over on me at some point in the wild ride, threatened with pantsing, came close to being hung with a jump rope "noose" on a playground, etc.
I got over that fear though as my hatred of the human race grew. It's amazing how jackasses who are considering giving you shit or slapping you around or making sport of you can sense whether you're willing to fight back. Since I've been ready for 'em, 99% of what I've heard is just talk from guys who are usually back peddling. I used to walk the streets of night in Hostile city USA...so obviously my fear of being attacked on the street is a faded memory.
I have other fears of course...we all do. Sometimes it's best to face them head on although it's not always neccessary. If you feared spiders and you had to let one crawl on your arm to cure your child of a grave illness...you would.
Another one of my fears as a child was of big ass dangerous carnival rides. Even though I have a hard time identifying with the me who was a teenager, I'm proud looking back on how I aggressively dealt with that. I road every fucking one of the damned things at least once....with my head up. THEN, I had the right to declare I didn't LIKE THEM without being a sissy liar.
I still don't see the point of them...if you want to induce nausea there are faster more effective ways. If it's "fear" you're into, try Monday morning job interviews or dealing with a dinner table full of nosey christian relatives.
There's enough misery in life..why subject yourself to more in the name of "fun"??
Of course the fact is some people live charmed lives..never any money worries. Families to back up their weaknesses and failings...good looks, etc. I suppose these people have to go out and watch horror movies and swirl around like spider monkeys on roller coasters to taste FEAR. Well, OK.
In the future if and when I get my ears back I'll likely start wearing some ear protection when playing music. For that matter, I've gotten enough of a wakeup call that I won't read in dim light. And, I GODDAMNED SURE won't subject myself to video games that make me violently dizzy or have warnings on the box about sending kids into coma's. You know those incredibly fastpaced TV commercials with a jillion frames per minute?? I don't think those are very healthy for your eyes or brain either. Protect your fucking senses. Don't stop living active lives or be a weenie...just exhibit a bit of common sense. I know that's strange coming from me.
That's what a health scare does to you...makes you a cautious "pussy".
But hey, I'm gonna double up on the broccoli from now on and take vitamin C daily. And when and if I get my ears back, I'm gonna limit myself to maybe 15 shots of Rebel Yell in celebration....at least for the first hour. I'll probably listen to Johnny Ray and Beethoven while doing so.
I'm not out of the woods yet though..I still may wind up needing surgery. That would suck of course. But if I do, it'll still be nothing compared to what my sister who has beaten cancer twice has gone through...or what my pal Andy has gone through since being shot by a crackhead. Let's not forget Droz from the WWE. A lot of people I've known over the years younger than me have simply dropped dead. I'm lucky compared to them. The fear of swallowing a pill is ridiculous when faced with permanent hearing loss. If leeches really did cure folks we'd all have to get used to them. You folks who are terrified of needles (I'm not) would leap for the chance to get shot up with one if the stakes were high enough.
It isn't courage that brushes away fear when we're faced with danger..it's either a rush of common sense..or the image of an even GREATER FEAR looming on the horizon I guess.
3/7/06
I'M STILL DEAF.
No, they didn't flush the "wax" out of my ears..there wasn't any. I'm deaf for other reasons. Something about fluid and swelling in my head from the "thing that's going around" nobody can seem to name.
I was rushed to a specialist. Some people (all of them musicians it seems) have suffered permanent loss of their hearing from this I'm told.
I left the guys office with prescriptions for an impressive array of pills (remember..I can't swallow pills) and a nasal spray. 1o fucking pills a day at first. One of them is some sort of steroid. I asked the Doc if this was a good time to begin my wrestling career...he chuckled.
I assume that meant I won't be looking like Lex Lugey by the end of the week.
If the medication doesn't work it could mean they need to drill into my ear....surgery. I'd prefer not to go that route.
I got my 10 pills down last night..managed to fall asleep like a normal person..no beer..no fun.
I awoke at 9:00 a.m. with the "Doctor Zhivago" theme running through my noggin non stop. Here I am....about to try the nasal spray.
Yummyumm....nasal drip..should be vomit inducing.
What a fine morning....as long as I don't lose count of what pills I need to take or have taken..
3/05/06
DEAF.
Well, mostly. I've written diary entry's here drunk, very drunk, depressed, hungover, very hungover, extremely hungover, with a wrist that may as well have been broken, with knee pains, while suffering from lingering foot injurys, suffering from a flaming anus, a few head wounds, etc. etc.
The sad story I'm here to document is the result of my attempts to deal with a local virus (I think) or affliction shall we say I've heard referred to as "cedar fever". It's more like suffering from an allergy than a cold or flu. I've had it for several weeks.
The worst part of it is my right ear plugged up a couple (or maybe three) weeks ago leaving me with one good ear. A few days ago it seemed like that ear was beginning to fade. I decided to use the same ear drops I'd been using on my defective right ear on my left...and then flushed them both out according to the shitty instructions on the tiny bottle; I wound up with my hearing in both ears at about a 98% loss level. I suffered thru it for about a day..and then stridently urged Marla to personally question a pharmacist about what to take for the illness that's been "going around".
The lady told Marla I should NOT be using the ear "medication" (HAH!) or flushing out my ears..that I need to be taking Sudafed...a decongestant. I took the recommended dosage for a couple days and here I am with most of the symptons being fought by the drug...but my ears plugged still with band practice less than 24 hours away.
To be honest I can probably do OK practising..well, maybe...because we play fucking loud and I can still hear very loud sounds.
The problem is complicated by the fact that being a musician even of the "hobby" sort my ears regularly require flushing out about every 8 years. Usually the nurse pulls out a couple plugs that look like impossibly big plugs of crud the size of cigarette butts. It's been more than 8 years since my last treatment...I remember remarking to people before I came down with this illness how I needed to get my ears hosed out.
Marla pledges to schedule me to have 'em hosed in the afternoon tomorrow. I hope it works out.
I blame the shitty service I've received over the years from the medical profession on my refusing to see a sawbones about this earlier.
As I sit here deaf I'm FUMING over the asshole doctors I've been subjected to. No wonder I have no faith in the medical profession!!
My biggest gripe is the agenda these fucks have and their priorities:
The number one goal is to earn points towards a prize or kickback by prescribing drugs to "deal" with depression or high blood pressure or whatever the fuck they can get away with. For 20 years most of the times I've entered the offices of a G.P. ("general quack PHUCKHEAD") I've been irked by their refusal to deal with MY NEEDS...MY SPECIAL NEEDS AND WANTS.
Remember, one of my biggest phobias is swallowing pills; you don't have any idea likely how frustrating it is to deal with a doctors appointment that results in the general Phuckhead prescribing some sort of pill I can't swallow. NOTE! When I point my phobia out to them..most of them snort...look at me like I just waggled my penis in their face (remember...they LOVE PILLS...and the prizes and bonuses they earn) and then calmly explain how to swallow a pill while scribbling the prescription out as if MY QUIRKS DON'T COUNT.
I had a great doctor in Philly who was used to dealing with junkies and scumbags that lived near South street. He took me seriously (like his brethren could've if they WANTED to) and wrote out a prescription for a liquid form of Ibuprofin (sp?).
SEE....they can cooperate if they CHOOSE to.
Then there was the hack female doctor who looked like Bo Derek.
Sounds great, eh guys?? Well, I was there because I was suffering pains from a virus going around. I wound up being subjected to a complete physical (which I didn't want) including an anal rape thumb jab that I still have nightmares about. At the end of the miserable experience she started scribling out about the 6th prescription for stuff I didn't want (that I tossed in the trashcan of course on my way out) that I've received from the brethren and sisters of the mighty hippocrappic oath. When I axed her about the miserys that BROUGHT ME TO HER OFFICE IN THE FIRST PLACE...she just snorted and said "it's just a virus that's going around...you'll get over it".
GEEJUS FUCK honey. Thanks.
It's not a matter of dealing with pain..I'm not THAT kind of a wussy.
I just hate having my intelligence insulted.
Remember "Jobjumper"? I was the WORST patient my orthodonist ever had...he told me as he pried the last metal hunks from my teeth after like 6 years or so of wearing them that should've been 1 or 2. I went to him as an adolescent with fangs...and put his Aloha Oregon office behind me for the last time when I was 19 with a thin beard..and almost married. I didn't cooperate with HIM because he didn't cooperate with ME. Hey ME!!!! I'm the S.O.B. that's being treated. I have rights too.
I put off going to a dentist (except for a couple emergency procedures) for many, many years. We were living in Philly...and I was convinced to go to a dentist that had treated Marla, Elvis, our friend Judith, etc. I believe I even saw him at a couple bars or clubs ahead of time. Marla explained to the guy the fact that I had a bad "attytude" about dentists...due to past experiences. I was assured that the torture devises of 60's-70's American dentistry had been improved upon.
Yunno what?? that proved to be true. I didn't mind my visit to the guy..he was good. I shook with fear upon entering the office of an oral surgeon he sent me to that needed to do some complicated root canals. You know what?? I didn't mind..it was a restful experience. Dentistry has come a long way.
So, did that mean I had found a dentist I'd begin seeing regularly?
NO. The bastard blew it; he had to make a smartass remark to somebody about my attitude going into my one and only appointment with him. Well, FUCK HIM. I had never given him any attitude....Marla had warned him that I had some lingering bad memories from a long time back; FUCK HIM. He evidently put more weight behind the fact that I would criticize members of his creed than judge me by our one and only and positive experience.
I haven't been to a dentist since.
I've instructed Marla that I want to go to an impersonal clinic where POOR people go and pay cash as opposed to a practice where the mode O' day is to 1) run up as big a bill as possible since an insurance company is paying for it and 2) make SURE that I leave with some sort of blood pressure or depression medicine prescription that'll I'll just toss in the trash.
I want to go to the clinic in town where poor people take their kids who accidently swallow Draino. I've had my ears hosed out enough times that I know a nurse is usually up to the task. FINE.
When I take my car to be serviced for a particular problem I DON'T NEED them to tear the whole damned thing apart looking for other things wrong with it that I can't afford to repair.
The SAME THING GOES for my "precious" health.
I love my loved ones...and I want to meet Nieces and Nephews I haven't met in person and I want to have another hour and a half long conversation some time with my favorite Niece and I want to be able to look my Granny in the eye our next visit and give her no cause to worry about me...but there are limits...LIMITS to what I'll go through.
I wish I had developed a loyal Doctor or nurse reader over the years. One who could visit every couple years and deal with my carcass.
NOPE. I've got a few lawyers, teachers, a couple cops at least, a few PHD's who teach, some sales managers...and of course the expected lovable batch of hard working mechanics and chefs and rock stars and salespeople and disgruntled clerks and janitors...but no physicians. DAMN.
I'll allow a certain amount of routine prodding tommorow, but not very damned much. I want to get my EARS HOSED OUT BABY.
We'll see how successful I am.
It's peaceful to an extent being deaf. I panic at other times though.
I sit here thinking about poor old Beethoven and his brilliant deaf creations...that aint me pal. I'm in no frame of mind to write music. I think about one of my hero's...the neglected Johnny Ray; one of the few musicians who ever bitched about Oregon as much as I do..my soul Brother in STATE HATE......on his best days his hearing without his hearing aids must've been about like mine is right now. Poor bastard. Even though he was legally deaf he was able to perform on stage without his hearing aids thanks to clever use of a regular drummer who would bash out the beat on a ride cymbal that he could FEEL rather than hear.
While they pump a couple quarts of water thru my ear canals and fix me up I'll think of him.
And Mick Foley of course. I may be an ASSHOLE...but I'm not a wussy.
3/02/06
NO...I still don't own a cell phone.
I still think that many people think they look "chic" when they're gabbing on them..but I think they look like booger eating morons.
It really pisses me off when I'm waiting in traffic at a light and I see some moron in front of me yakking away...and I just KNOW that 9 times out of 10 when the light changes I'm gonna need to lean on my horn to get them to MOVE...and then I look in my rear view mirror and some MBC (remember, Whiskey Rebel speak for: "mouthy bar cunt") is braying like a donkey into one delivering hand jestures a mile a minute like those twits on info-mercials. Don't they know..haven't they figured it out...the person at the other end of the line can't SEE you....and then I gaze to my left or right and see some tard jabbering something brilliant that really needed to be said like "Uh....HI.....I'm on my way home". Don't go home you jackass...go straight to fucking cellphone induced brain tumor HELL.
Today I saw the most mindless bimbo yet standing in the parking lot at Half Price books. She was so transfixed by her conversation she was waving her free ass-picking hand gesticulating mightily. She had no clue how DUMB she looked. She was wearing super tight shorts with a big dirt stain (a shit stain?) on her ass. She started goose stepping around in circles carried away with her "vital" conversation in a manner that reminded me of how I must look when I need to pee at a bar and the mens room is occupied. Instead of ending her call and entering the book store she literally began stagger stepping off in the direction of a Dairy Queen across the street.
I hoped she'd get hit by a bus.
Could this have been you? Do YOU know how stupid you look talking on your cell phone...HHmmm??? Take the Whiskey Rebel test: do it in front of a mirror sometime...maybe you'll see what I mean.
2/27/06
I went on record several times when I lived in Philly about a very "Catholic" annoying habit I constantly encountered there; every goddamned fucking time I sneezed in public anyone within earshot had to chant "bless you"...if I sneezed 3 times or 5 times they'd mumble it every damned time.
This went on in thrift stores at subway platforms and even in the office I worked at in which happily many people (who chanted "bless you" anyway) hated my guts and went out of their way to not speak to me otherwise.
It was explained to me that "bless you" is said because according to Catholic voo doo - doo doo when you sneeze your heart stops for a brief moment and the lord has the option of pulling the plug on your existance. HUH!!
Here in Texas people are overly courteous in many ways compared to hostile city...which is fine most of the time I guess. In a small town like San Marcos in which we live people approach you and talk to you without fear in an innocent way as opposed to the calculating, critical, scheming and insulting way people PRETEND to be "friendly" when they talk to strangers in public in the wretched town I refuse to be considered "from" Snoreland Boregom.
My problems today at the grocery store and ergo my bitch about San Marcos "friendliness" stem from the fact that for several weeks I've had a mysterious allergy/illness of some sort that evidently a lot of people have. One ear is plugged...and I'm actively pumping ear drops into it to cure it. I had a horrid continuous cough for a long time..but it seems to be disapating. I might be getting better.
Of course I'd fill way too many pages here detailing the history of why I feel I can't go to a doctor about it. I'll simply say that if I thought I could hold a doctors attention long enough to address the problem rather than use my visit as an opportunity to get me hooked on prescription drugs they get a kickback or spiff on and deliver the same old lectures on "lifestyle" I heard from doctors 20 years I'd go to their office tommorow. I've been suckered enough times into visiting doctors who shrugged off my primary illness in favor of exploring things they'd like to correct in me...I won't be fooled again. I WANT TO BE IN CHARGE when I visit a physician...or at least have the power of refusing their bull and demanding an answer to a problem.
SHIT!! I've lost count how many times some general practitioner began writing a prescription for me..and when I've told 'em I can't swallow pills...and have never been able to....they just snort...give me childish instructions on how to swallow 'em and ignore my life long phobia.
I would say "but I digress"....but I'm almost as bloody sick of that cliche as "good to go".
Anyway, I was choking to death today..well, perhaps...at the local grocery store near the deli cheese display. I hacked so bad I came close to vomiting a half dozen times. This was a surprise since my cough has been notably decreasing in frequency and volume.
I couldn't focus enough on my errand to even select a brick of romano for a meat loaf. I had about 10 items in my basket and decided to make a dash for the checkout line. Over the course of about 3 minutes of constant choking and near wretching I received audible questions from 4 people who are amongst the stupidest and rudest rubes I've ever encountered.
I'll put it this way...do you ask someone who is choking to death a question and stand there and expect an answer??? I doubt it. One genius lady tried to show her solidarity with my situation by blurting out in a goofy retard voice (likely her normal one) "HEY!! we're BOTH sick!!"
I made it to the checkstand....I was slowed down by a stoned looking group of people loading up on dogfood who glared at me with hatred as if I was upsetting their shopping experience...as if I WAS BEING RUDE...as if I CHOSE to cough like that and owed them an apology. If they had quit gaping and put a faint amount of hustle into moving their asses out of the way so I could buy a little bottle of water I found my coughing fit would've ended. Instead they had to stand there glaring daggers at me. I said nothing...I COULDN'T. I was too busy hacking like hell.
Eventually they moved away at their frustratingly"mellow"pace.
The clerk had the nerve to ask me...a man doubled over choking every 10 seconds.."are you alright"??What a genius...I had a fucking BOTTLE OF WATER like I say in plain sight that was likely going to (and DID) cure my cough...if only HE SCANNED MY ITEMS and T.C.B'd instead of standing there with his thumb up his ass expecting me to give him an audible reply.
Mothers, what if your child were drowning...and all the people around whom you'd like to think would assess the situation and jump in and save them stood around with cases of cash-register-jaw...GAPING like fucking RUBES...and maybe calling out to the drowning child "ARE YOU OK????????"
What if you doubled over from heart pain in your chest and left arm and morons stood around slack jawed and brainless asking questions (and actually expecting responses from a twitching, suffering victim ) like "are you alright??"
If you survived, would you be glad you were surrounded in your moment of need by imbeciles rather than people with enough sense to pour piss out of a boot??
I remember the time I was near death and curling into a fetal position on Mt. Rushmore (you can read about it in detail in "hostile city or bust" one of my books) and some joker from the nearby mass of tourist humanoids cackled "Hey! have another one buddy!!"
Is it any wonder I HATE HUMANITY??? I have since I was about 5 years old. Don't be fooled into thinking that I've mellowed in my age. If I had the chance I'd STILL push that button leading to a globe cleansing nuclear blowout...I've never wavered from that position...UURRPPPPP.
2/25/06
HAPPY BIRTHDAY........UURRPPPP.
An eerie night around here. I slept poorly on Thursday, drank early on Friday and wound up climbing into the sack about 1:30 a.m. (technically Sat. morning) which is very, very early for me.
I awoke at 2:30 a.m. suffering from some sort of traumatic nightmare I've forgotten. I was tired enough that I rolled over and went back to sleep.
I wound up in the middle of a very realistic and for a while frightening nightmare. It involved being in a public place on a day when cars are spinning out of control left and right. At first it's one car here and there..and then it escalates into groups of cars plowing into the bodies of the initial wrecks. When I flee from the carnage I'm lead down a sidestreet that's quiet. I look up into the sky..it's dark, very dark blue..almost black in the middle of the day..and there are angry oversized insects flying through the air.
There's a happy ending. I wind up at a bar where everybody's laughing and celebrating.
At exactly 4:34 a.m. I rose up from bed and trudged to our Imac to make some notes of ideas I had to expand this nightmare into a segment for a group of stories I'm working on.
This is a common occurance in my life. I often get out of bed to write down ideas for columns, etc. that come to me. I didn't feel at all like flipping over and having more "bad dreams" even though the one I remember turned happy.
Elvis walked in the door at about 4:40 a.m.
He told me he had just seen the aftermath of a bad accident on the hill approaching our home (and the graveyard next door). A couple cars were still in the road somewhat. Folks were standing by with cell phones..so no help was needed apparently from him.
As he drove the last half mile he noticed a vehicle blowing down the winding road doing about 50 mph which would be fast on a sunny day..it's insane to be flying along on a very foggy, rainy night.
Elvis wondered what was going to happen when that car reached the scene of the accident; could it stop in time?? Elvis declares he didn't see the vehicles in the road until he got very close to them due to the conditions. There were no flares set up either.
I walked to the window...and I'll be damned if a police car with flashing lights hadn't stopped to block the road downhill and route cars in another direction. SHIT.
I'm glad he got through just when he did and wasn't part of whatever happened. It's a small town...we'll eventually find out.
With 25,000 college students in this town who tend to drive REALLY shitty in vehicles they know will be replaced by Daddy if they smash 'em up...it's a good bet the vehicle flying down that curving road just a short ways from the graveyard was being driven by a wreckless show off trying to impress his fratboy buddies. Of course I don't know...it's a good bet.
I noted the coincidence of my rising up from bed to write down the elements of a nightmare that began with cars careening out of control...and finding the real life situation unfolding.
What's it mean??? Some people might read a lot into it...but I'd rather just crack open a few more beers and drink them in peace rather than working myself into a tizzy. I dunno?? Who can say?? I can safely say it's time to pour a big shot and say (UURRPPP):
..It's 2/25/06 now...
HAPPY Birthday Marla and Ric Flair and George fucking Harrison.
2/22/06
Interestingly, my recent explanations of the "prophet" cartoon violence for an AMP column and a word or two here and matched up with analysis offered by some of the journalists incarcerated right now in Jordan and Yemen for re-printing them albeit with a negative slant against them.
It's silly to imagine all those mobs of "insulted" "offended" people running out their front doors with a common purpose in mind. Religious diehards are manipulating them just like our christian friends here in the US manipulate crowds from time to time to chastize we vice loving infidels and non-believers.
They do this either 1) to achieve power or 2) to maintain power.
Bush, the U.S. and it's citizens, Europeons, etc. etc. etc. are routinely and randomly lambasted at the whim of the holy men working people up into a frenzy. It's a pointless matter to ask for an explantion of the particular cause of a specific kidnapping, beheading, looted embassy or dire threat of death from islamic hotheads. As of this moment unless aliens or government agents have seized and dabbled with my computer the U.S. and Israel are being held (and I quote Yahoo news) "partially to blame" for the shrine destroyed yesterday...just as we have been held accountable for cartoons published in frigging tiny Denmark.
There is no rational system of cause and effect that guides islamic religious hotheads in cases like this; we receive blanket blame for anything that goes wrong in that part of the world.
I have plenty of beefs with Bush, both political parties in general, the tiny nearly pointless debate society posing as a political party that I've registered my vote with (the Libertarians), U.S. foreign policy over the years, etc. etc. etc.
I'd be a moronic ASSHOLE if I pointed the finger of blame for everything wrong in my life at political institutions, my parents, my fucked up junior high school p.e. coaches, the christian church, the heartbreak of hallitosis, enemies from earlier in my life..etc. etc. etc.
You won't find any logical reasoning connecting Americans or Israeli's with a newspaper published 8,000 miles away or a dome destroyed by fundamentalist islamic hotheads we've been fighting for YEARS. FORGET IT. They blame us because it's a method of unifying the mobs of average chuckleheads they want to control.
C-O-N-T-R-O-L is imperative when you're dealing with all those masses of people forced to kow tow on their bellies several times per day to unseen phantom gods that are no more provable as deities than Barney or Zeuss or Charlie Manson.
I respect and admire to a degree a TRUE BELIEVER in one of the faiths or non-faiths of the world regardless of my own personal cynical beliefs. Religions..ALL OF THEM can be a COMFORT...a balm for the soul in a mindless world. I'm an alcoholic agnostic...a friend of satanists, blasphemers and heel wrestlers. In spite of that I can SEE contentment in the eyes of many folks who practice a faith based religion.
And then I look into the eyes of some crackpot like the new President of Iran or Jim Jones or a few of the old trusty preachers I remember from childhood who balled up their fists and swung 'em like prize fighters as they raged on against all sorts of "sinful" things like playing cards, movie theatres, innocent chaperoned dancing, wine even just with dinner (in spite of the fact that Jesus and his pals drank loads of it) etc. etc. etc.
It's up to all of us as individuals to figure out our own religious beliefs. Whenever the christians or muslims or whomever else ( it's usually only those two groups) start judging us all and screaming for heads to be lobbed off or jail sentences to be meted out due to some sort of sacred rule in THEIR CHOSEN WORLD....NOT MINE or YOURS neccessarily...they're going too far.
THAT'S THEIR WAY though...the way of too many religious people.
It's just as ugly here in the U.S. when practiced by "loving" "caring" christains as it is in a far off land where somebody's being stoned to death. PLEASE TRY TO REMEMBER THAT my christian chums!!
2/17/06
Newspapers have really gone to shit over the last few years.
As recently as oh..the late 90's I read at least one newspaper per day. Today I bought one NOT to "inform myself" but because we use newspaper around the house to stick under the cats water dish, ignite the occasional fireplace log and for me to drape over the sink when I'm trimming my lovely beard.
Newspapers are still REALLY GREAT for those purposes. Otherwise they seem of little goddamned value.
I get my news from various internet sources whose slant I am familiar with. Newspapers can't keep up with the speed at which I follow stories. If I read about Cindy Sheehan or Pat Robertson's latest embarrassing statements on the net on a Wednesday, I sure as hell don't need to read the same drivel on the following Thursday.
Of course a lot of internet sources are outside of the realm of traditional news organizations. The news agencies sometimes assume a haughty stance that as "professional journalists" they uphold some sort of tradition that bloggers and comparably independant sources don't stack up to.
I say HOGWASH. Todays newspapers are crammed full of "newsworthy" horseshit about celebs I don't give a rats ass about. They seem more than ever to focus on particular glitzy homicides involving well heeled white folk (mostly young females it seems) and sweep all those nasty other deaths "nobody cares about" under the rug. Their idea of upholding the "sacred" journalistic traditions seems to be mostly about cramming Kobe and Britney and Michael down our throats much like Vincent K. McMahon crams his handpicked champions like John Cena down peoples throats.
When I read about some athlete or actor snapping and pushing a camera in some pushy jackass "journalists" face I applaud. When I see the mighty stallwart representatives of the press swarming around todays piece of meat for a soundbite I'm driven to dark thoughts shall we say. I've said for years that the music business is the scummiest racket on earth...well, the media seems to be giving them a run for their money.
My opinions or perception haven't changed all that much over the course of my adult life. I KNOW that there were some opinonated newspapers around when I was a kid; you could tell by the slant of their editorial page. Today, from the frontpage headlines on back every damned newspaper I read seems so partisan one way or other (I'd say about 70% "one way"..left) that I'm forced to interpret the stories to such an extent it's a goddamned poor use of time.
Newspapers have improved of course in some ways over my lifetime. Even well up into the 60's many major newspapers deferred to prevailing predjudices and used language that suggested that non-whites were subhumans. They'd refer in stories to women as possessions of their husbands...yunno my wife would be cited as: "Mrs. Philip Irwin". Words such as "rape" or "s.o.b." or the innocent "crap" were edited out of newspapers until not all that long ago...even "go to hell" or "bastard". I'm glad we've progressed in many ways as a society over the years...and the newspapers do reflect that.
Unfortunately, what used to be reserved to the editorial page is now splashed big and bold across page one. I KNOW certain publishers over the years had axes to grind...but it seems like I can't find a worthwhile paper that makes an attempt to be non-partisan. I tell you what...I'd rather get a few laughs from a goddamned tabloid from down at the grocery store that clearly represents itself as WHAT IT IS...than waste my time on rags that POSE as being the sacred product of distinguished journalists who are no better than campus partisan cheer leaders at a college newspaper.
Just like I miss the ritual from the first large chunk of my life watching wrestling on TV on Saturdays, I miss the quiet hours of reading a Sunday newspaper.
Maybe most of them are going to disappear like drive-in theatres, pay telephones (now rendered obsolete by cell phones) and clean public restrooms at filling stations. If they can't compete with the internet, they will eventually either change their format or vanish.
This won't happen for some time yet since most people (likely including YOU reading this) don't 1) NOTICE or 2) GIVE A SHIT that your local paper prints partisan blather.
Bottom line is, I don't really care either; nobody's forcing me to BUY the fucking things except when we need to line the space inside the bathroom sink cabinet or protect our floor from litter box overspill...JUST DON'T FEED ME THAT FUCKING LINE ABOUT THEM BEING part of some NOBILE, ELEGANT TRADITION!
Once again: I MAY BE AN ASSHOLE...but I'm NOT DUMB.
2/15/06
Day 4 of being a temporary batchelor.
I'm still trying to take advantage of the situation.
I've drank 'til dawn every morning since she's gone. Let's face it though...that's nothing out of the ordinary. I normally drink until lots of people are driving to work on nearby ranchroad 12.
I've cranked the stereo up high several times...but, of course Marla doesn't mind that. She's happy when I play music.
I could glue myself to the computer screen and watch live internet coverage of the Aeroflot chess tournament in Moscow while dunking shots and beers and listening to a Faron Young cd while trying to spook the cats by acting like a psycho; well, that's what I've been doing for the last couple hours. Elvis has slept through it..the cats are too. It's all normal behavior.
I suppose I could try to reverse all my usual nightly habits and shock the creatures in this house by staying sober and watching some TV preachers and stomp around saying things like "glory hallelUJAH!" and "PRAISE THE LORD!" but what would that prove? If I tried to give my "personal testimony" to Elvis or one of the cats they'd just listen and then shrug and walk away.
I've experimented with every drug under the sun at least a time or two..YAWN. No special turn on there. I could put on makeup and mince around the house lip syncing to an old Eartha Kitt record....but, WHY?? In doing so I could claim to have been "naughty" or out of charachter with the wife out of town...but I'd feel like a stupid ass.
Elvis and I made up huge peanut butter and bacon sandwiches tonight that most people would consider heart threatening...I suppose that's being naughty in a lame way. My spouse would NEVER eat those. I've farted in bed with reckless abandon nightly..but of course Marla would say I do that all the time too.
The wildest thing that's happened since Marla left on her business trip is the size and postioning of a large cigar like turd that magically glued itself upright in our toilet during one of my movements. Several flushings have refused to dunk it. If I did something like that at somebody elses pad I'd head for a plunger..they would NEVER KNOW. If she were here she'd be disgusted and I'd be in there with a toilet brush; HA HA !! I may just sleep all night with the thing clinging to life in there..THAT'LL show the world I can be wild when the wife leaves town...I guess.
Damn...I just checked on it..and the miracle turd already tipped over. It's sunk. Should've used more peanut butter and less bacon in that sandwich. I guess I've forgotten how to be a batchelor. Of course, I could go out and make a fucking ass out of my self hitting on MBC's (translated: mouthy bar cunts) in local watering holes....but that'd get old really fast. I'd have to use dialogue that makes me wretch like you can see on "elimidate". Some of you suave lady killers may regularly resort to that...but it's too much of a stretch for me after all these years of not having to.
Back to the internet chess tournament I guess. UURRPPPPP.
Maybe I can find an update on the hilarious Saddam Hussein "hunger strike" if I wait up a couple more hours...or more news on the upcoming "gay muslim" film that's going to be released soon (I'm not making this up..) HUMPIN' JUMPIN' ALLAH...that's gonna piss some people off. The director (who is a gay "advocate") promises he'll have it shown in every country in the middle east. That's something for a boring old married square to live for.
2/13/06
This is my 2nd night of being a bachelor while Marla is away on a work related trip. I've taken it kind of easy tonight due to the fact that last night was full of action.
Hey, I've been married since 1977. I've learned to take advantage of the times she's away to enjoy some thrills she might not be...er, up for. The fact that I do likely contributes to our long term happiness together. Some of you married folks out there might take notes here.
Of course, there's no action here in San Marcos...at least not the kind that turns ME on. I heard that there was some action going on at a spot up in Austin and decided...HEY, why stay home and play with myself or sit in front of the computer when I can watch live action??
I drove up I-35 buzzing inwardly with anticipation. I felt like a drink...but thought I'd best hold back; it could effect my performance in case the situation were just right and I somehow was lured into participating.
I found the place easily enough. It was in a semi-seedy neighborhood...what used to be the "nice" motel row back in the 50's. The windows of the joint had been covered over with foil...it was impossible to see what I was getting into. Well, I took a deep breath and thrust open the door. To my delight I not only saw the usual college age and middle-aged guys crowding the place...there were plenty of girls...many of them young. VERY young.
Amongst the mixed crowd of "players" and voyeurs, my attention was first drawn to a couple who appeared to have been going at it for a while consisting of a guy...white... who looked like he was about 30.. and a girl...black... who looked like she couldn't be older than 12. Of course, I had expected and hoped to see some lively mating activity..and I must say, I caught these two at exactly the right moment. The guy reached down with the fingers of his right hand to complete the brutal penetration of her cramped position. Instead of crying out, the girl took it like a pro.
I turned away...and lo and BEHOLD..saw a couple dudes going at it hot and heavy just behind me. I watched for awhile as a young guy hammered away at an old guy who was really sweating uncomfortably.
I strolled into an adjacent room and found several couples who had casually paired off. A guy who looked like he ran the place came over to greet me. I commented about how many young kids were there. He nodded and informed me that quite a few of their parents were so nervous they couldn't watch. Many were waiting outside in their cars. I told him I thought it was great that they could be there to watch their kids backs in an activity like this on a sunday night especially.
He pointed out that some of the older guys caught hell from their wives being away from home on Sunday nights too.
I jokingly said "well..I guess they could always bring them along down here!".....the fella laughed at that thought. We've both been around long enough to know THAT rarely happens.
He strolled off leaving me impressed..that this was the FRIENDLIEST damn chess club I'd been to in many years.
After a few hours at that place, I was too worn out to even look at my favorite hot internet websites all this day. I guess I need to build up my stamina.
2/10/06
I just finished off 2 columns over the last 3 days. 1 of them was about this bru-ha-ha over the Danish cartoons picturing the mighty "prophet" of the peaceful, tranquil, loving Muslim faith.
My greatest concern is that world leaders will cave-in and come up with some sort of "code" that will protect sacred cows from being lampooned or shit on by traditional journalists or tasteless bastards like me.
Sure enough, I saw a report on the internet yesterday that the Euro's were considering just such a measure.
The religious right in America must be THRILLED by the prospects of this. If we sacrifice 1st ammendment rights to honor the Muslim wacko's sensitivites Christians will step into the breech and demand the same sort of protection.
Will this sensitivity extend to atheists, agnostics, satanists, bigamist Mormon sects and other outnumbered "faiths"??? OF COURSE NOT.
This could threaten a lot of us who've been sacriligious publicly over the years; yeah, yeah, yeah....they won't come after us at first...they'll give it some time for the new "code" of decency to sink in and then come after us. Just the fear that they might will make it a more nervous and potentially dangerous world for both cynical gadfly's and more main stream journalists.
You know how you can't even get into a fair fight these days without getting sued later?? You ever wonder how all those assinine warnings got plastered all over objects like Coke machines? Have you heard the stories about smokers being reported to the authorities by people living in adjacent apartments suffering from their "2nd hand smoke"?? Have you noticed the word "crap" being bleeped these days by oldies radio stations when they play that horrid song "Kodachrome" by weenie folk rocker Paul Simon?? Ever been "counseled" at work or school for expressing an unpopular or "negative" thought out loud?? HHmm? These sorts of modern notions began on a smalltime basis too....and there were lots of people shrugging their shoulders saying "oh well...they won't come after me/us...it's just a law designed to "_____" (fill in the blank).
Who would have thought prohibition would've actually been enacted?
It nauseates me to think that people in the "free" world may be so fucking weakkneed that we'd end up kowtowing to a bunch of ragtag zealots hyped up by wacko jihadists to destroy on cue. I quoted Arthur C. Clarke in my AMP column: "isn't killing people in the name of god a pretty good definition of insanity?"
The people ripping apart embassies and threatening Danes and Norwegians and other Europeans waving signs like "behead those who insult Islam" ARE NOT groups of "hurt" "deeply insulted" deeply religious folk no matter how they may be represented by CNN. They are gullible marks...just like the dopes here in the USA who are manipulated by preachers into handling snakes, bombing abortion clinics and commiting other such acts of Christian "love".
The world is in an uproar over what? An UNPROVABLE religion...a matter taken on FAITH. There's no more evidence of their "prophet" being any more of a reality than Zeuss and his pals, Jesus, Barney or Santa. Nations are gritting their teeth vowing their will to wipe other nations off the map...over matters of FAITH.
Gee...isn't religion great??
2/05/06
To repeat myself since I don't want to be a hypocrite, my old drinking buddy Pig Champion and I had personal "unresolved issues" shall we say at the time of his death. A couple friends had serious beefs with him...for good reason in my opinion.
I don't subscribe to the christianity based motif of mourning in which I might be expected to be wringing my hands and crying because we never bothered to email each other and work it out.
Maybe YOU DO; maybe you should rush out and set things right with all of your pals you've have good times and bad with and sort it all out. More power to you.
I got drunk at least 1,000 times with the man..which means I likely spent 5,000 hours at least in his home. That's alot. Our friendship went way on beyond band horseshit his band or mine. We hit it off well due to the fact that we were both 24 hour a day types who slept weird hours, we were compatible philosophically speaking agnostics who enjoyed the common sense of the church of Satan but both stopped clearly short of conducting incantations, spells, hexes, etc. Most importantly we both hated many of the same authority figures and as grown men in our 30's our hatred for squares and prudes and the sort of people who drove us to panic attacks in public hadn't abated unlike most men our age.
Pig identified quite a bit with G.G. Allin. He often said that G.G. will be remembered as a folk hero long after his music and that of his era is more or less yawned at by generations to come.
Maybe Pig's legend will live on too. He was indeed world class when it came to consumption of booze and vittles. He was the ULTIMATE HUMAN DRINKING MACHINE...and he knew it. His normal night of drinking would kill most of us. That's the stuff folk legends are made of.
We'll see.
2/02/06
R.I.P. Pig part #2 Double SHIT.....now I'm too drunk to sit here and type in drunken annecdotes....UUURRRPPPPPPP. Oh well....that's a tribute in itself. Somebody better let me know the cause of death by the time I get back to this computer after my nights pass out.
2/01/06
MY GOD. Marla and I left town for a night to stare at the ocean in a theraputic manner. I got home relaxed...switch on the computer and learn of ANOTHER DAMN DEATH.
This time it's my old buddy Pig Champion from Poison Idea.
I feel the need to send him off properly here.....and the job will be done as soon as:1) somebody bloody emails me with some sort of cause of death. I haven't heard a goddamned word from all my old friends in Portland. I had to hear about this from a guy in San Diego (thanks Ted).
2) I've got to be drunker than I am now.
It's very hard to write about him. "To be frank and honest" as he used to say we mutually ceased communicating with each other about 10 years ago. There was no blow up or argument. I don't know where I stood with him when the end came for him a couple days ago. He did a couple things over the years that pissed me off...and I'm sure I did too.
Regardless of where we wound up friendship wise, he was a great guy and deserves to be remembered for his generosity, his talents, his gift for conversation and his inspiring lust for action. I guarantee you, very few men his size or not lived fuller lives and experienced more.
Marla and I first met Pig in 1980. He led a wild fun filled life even then. He used to say back then that he didn't expect to reach the age of 25 . When he did...he seemed a bit surprised...and began declaring now and then (NOTE: he didn't have a death wish...he just liked living "large") he'd never reach the age of 30.
Well, lucky for him that fucking party pooper the grim reaper didn't come calling until he was 47.
There was a lot more to the man than the music he left behind. I've got to point out that in case anybody out there reading this thinks he was some sort of a big fat dummy...well, yeah...he was now and then when he was blacked out from portions of booze that would take you and 3 friends 3 nights to drink. Much of the rest of the time he studied books and films and topics ranging from the occult to Elvis. And may I say, when he got into a topic...he went WHOLE HOG (pardon the pun). He'd clean out a book store shelf on a subject that fascinated him ranging from recipes to philosophy.
He could yak comfortably with brilliant minds...and drunken louts. He was equally at home enjoying the view at a strip club or reading Nietchze or watching Portland wrestling on the tube.
At home he played a huge variety of music. Yeah, at one time he had a humongous punk rock collection...but you'd be just as likely to hear Motorhead, Hank Williams, the Beach Boys or Beethoven if you visited.
I'm gonna get suitably ripped and maybe come back here in a few hours and tell a few stories from the 1,000 or so times I had the privilege of drinking with the ULTIMATE HUMAN DRINKING MACHINE.
.