Please attach references

You need friends to use for good references. But you need enemies to use for bad references. How else to meet new friends and enemies?

I hope your paperwork is in order. 

The classics of fantasy, Zotz!

imageI acquired  a copy of the 1947 novel ZOTZ! By Walter Karig, who also wrote Nancy Drew novels. It was later made into a Tom Poston (George on Newhart) movie directed by  1950s schlock master William Castle (The Tingler) .

 It’s full of Soviet spies. And ladies, Strange ladies, sitting on sofas. Strange sofas. And magical coins.

 

Whatever temperature it is in the room is room temperature

A Vintage fridge keeps things slightly cool.

But mine does not. For as of almost a week ago it is dead. I mean I still have it, but the insides hold at 68°. And rising. It’s where I store the room temperature food.
A new one will be delivered tomorrow. A no-frills version – according to the repairman and three salesman at three stores the new refrigerant is more corrosive than Freon and burns out compressors, and they declared my 8 1/2 year-old fridge to be “A good life span.” And I said “then there’s no reason to buy anything but the cheapest cheap fridge. Since they’re not built to last anyway.” Why pay for the fancy stuff that will keep working even after the compressor renders your refrigerator a room temperature box?

PS, since I have an abandoned refrigerator stationed in my kitchen I guess I have to be on the lookout for roving bands of street urchins who may wish to play inside. Next to the homemade sauerkraut.

The ballad of the whip

For sale, one whip

Hardly used – hardly used

This is not a sad story

Do not be disabused

A man came here and bought it

Yes he did – yes he did

It’s none of my business

Whatever he does

But I could not help but wonder

When he went on his way

Whether he bought it to whip others

Or himself– Or himself

Whether he bought it to whip others

Or himself– Or himself

(That’s called flagellation*)

Whether he bought it to whip others

Or himself– Or himself

***

[*not fellatio]

 

A guide to personal style and voyeurism 

Johnny Cash- I shot a man in Reno.

Philip K Dick – In Reno I shot a man.

Backhanded compliment

H.G. Wells went to the theater with Charles Chaplin. It was an early sound film and Chaplin fidgeted in his seat all the way through it. When it was over Chaplin said, “It was a terrible film.”

“Yes,” said Wells. “But there was talking. And that’s enough for me.”

My own personal favorite backhanded compliment was a letter I received which simply said, “Sometimes I love you.”

 

A short list of things we can’t afford anymore (a poem)

I steal from Richard F Yates, because it’s a habit with me. Everybody got a habit, me, nuns, William Burroughs… only Richard F Yates lives free.

Can’t afford the status quo of War, Big Business Giveaways, Private Prisons, Institutionalized Racism, Unregulated Healthcare, College Loans.
Can’t afford the lack of a Living Wage.
Can’t afford Outsourcing, Offshoring, Free Trade shenanigans.
Can’t afford businesses declaring everyone an independent contractor.
Can’t afford driving a personal car into the ground for someone else to profit.
Can’t afford the shifting of the burden to the bottom.
Can’t afford payday loans.
Can’t afford the sky high rent.
Can’t afford the money so far spent that profited only the very top.
Can’t afford to pick up the tab for those who attend $20,000 a plate fundraisers While you and I may skip meals.
Can’t afford the bailout of the ship that sunk mine. Do I look like a fool’s goldmine?
Can’t afford $7,000 a pill to stay alive.
Can’t afford not to invest in the future.
Can’t afford the status quo. It’s unrealistic. It has no future. It was obsolete when it started. Why should you and I have to pay for it?

 

Don’t look for the silver lining

I distrust people who see a silver lining in every cloud. I’m not a scientist but I’m pretty sure a silver lining to every cloud would be a sign of some serious ecological problem. I know the silver industry says up to ninety percent of the earth’s atmosphere can be safely composed of powdered silver, but I have lingering doubts. These doubts nag at me. The studies they cite, some of them, appear to be tobacco industry studies with the word “tobacco” crossed out and replaced with the word “sugar,” which was replaced with “saccharine” and then, finally, “silver.”

But they are conserving paper, and saving trees, so I guess I can applaud that. Let it not be said I am one of those nay sayers who are in it just for the opportunity to say nay.

 

Desire in Chains

You love me, she said. You love me. Just admit you love me.
But she was too early. Because I didn’t love her yet.
And then it was too late.

There aren’t enough containers in the world to hold all of your desires.
We have a container deficit.
Desire, uncontained!
Desire, lost!

Actually, Scalia was a petulant ass

It is not necessary to say nice things about public figures when they die.
In the case of Supreme Court Justice Scalia, he is perhaps best remembered as the judge who said “a claim of factual innocence is not a legal claim” in denying a hearing in a death penalty case.
Only a complete asshole would write that.
He was not a “great legal writer” he was a petulant ass. He was not “a man of strong opinions” he was a closed minded ideologue. He was a supporter of the constitution only when it was convenient for him. He was a hypocrite. A bigot. He was on the wrong side of history. And this is how he should be remembered. Save the praise for the praiseworthy.

About a decade ago there was a kid who danced on Reagan’s grave. He should dance on Scalia’s grave. He’s our designated dancer.

My disagreement with the queen

Youthful Spirits by Richard F. Yates

Artist: I need a muse.
Queen: We are not a muse.
Artist: All is forlorn!
Queen: Amuse us!
Artist: But I am without a muse!
Queen: Amuse us then with a tragedy.
Artist: This is the story of an artist without a muse.
Queen: I’ve already heard that one.

Unreasonable expectations at the palace.

Full metal jacket, update

Sergeant: “Texas?! There are only two types from Texas, boy, steers and queers. Which are you?”

Private Joker: “Queer.”

Sergeant: “All right then.”