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.”

Hermitages

This is a true story. 

In the old days wealthy estates would set up a Hermitage. In the hermitage would live one hermit. The Hermitage would be set up on the outskirts of the estate, probably near the entrance. Visitors entering the estate would be able to see the Hermitage, and possibly the hermit, actively pursuing the hermit lifestyle. But they would not speak to the hermit for the hermit was paid to hermit. 
Modern life is different. But the same.

From 1906 to you, still true

“CHRISTIAN, n. One who believes that the New Testament is a divinely inspired book admirably suited to the spiritual needs of his neighbor. One who follows the teachings of Christ in so far as they are not inconsistent with a life of sin.”

Excerpt From: Ambrose Bierce “The Devil’s Dictionary” 1906

 

Legalized foot cream

“Cat Planning Evil” by Richard F. Yates, stolen from same. All artists steal as all cats murder.

A few days ago I went to one of the local marijuanna outlets and bought some cannabis infused ginger cayenne cream.

A year ago I hurt my foot bicycling and it has since been examined x-rayed and pronounced afflicted with neuroma, nerve pain. According to bicycling magazine website, a common bicycling injury.

So I bought cannabis cream.

And I have rubbed it into the small area afflicted. And it seems to be having an effect.

For one thing, my foot now smells like cannabis.

 

*May also be decreasing pain.