"The Moon the moon the moon..."

"The Moon The Moon The Moon. They Danced by the Light of the Moon."

"Fragile"

 

Was in Hospital again. This is getting to be a bad habit. I had gone...by myself this time. No big deal with the Meat Wagon, and worried family. Well they might as well have come what with the floor show I gave everybody.

I collapsed in the waiting area. I was reading "Time"(tm)  magazine about how the whole damned world is coming to an end...again. When I faded out. I heard a buzzing knew something was up, and came to that evening.

I missed all the fun.

As always it was my fault. I hadn't eaten any meals in three days...I thought it was two. See what with all the Meds I have no appetite none at all. As a dear friend said, "The tyranny of meals!"  Despite how you feel you must eat especially if you're sucking down a bleeping wad of Meds everyday.

Well I took the Meds, but didn't really eat.

Not good. Especially not good as I had a tummy full of battling chemicals ie them Meds, and nothing else. I guess you can imagine the rest. In some cases I was told by a very upset..actually pissed off Nurse this could have been fatal.

Wow, and after all they'd done to keep me breathing.

Yeah I'd be pissed too.

EAT DAMMIT!!

So they filled me full of all sorts of I.V. goodies. Some of it looked like grape soda, and ginger ale..or cat piss which as we know is more or less the same thing. They inflicted a dietician on me let me sleep, and in the morning booted me out.

They called a cab.

Damned sweet of them that. Right now I feel like fried Shit with a side of cotton soaked in piss. Hey nobody's forcing you to read this. I'm just being truthful for the historical record. 

Aw yuck.

I have a headache...I'm told from not eating, and a touch of nausea. You know that's something I've discovered in this era of my on going yuckiness. You can want to heave ya guts out though there's not a thing in it.

Weird.

Anyway my classes at the "Y" are out for tonight. Just as well it'll give me more time to finish my assignments. Odd I just remembered I had this serious, and actually lovely Spiritual dream while I was bloto on the floor. All beauty flying, and the other usual endorphin ignited scenes you get to ease your way to the next level or whatever.

Good grief...was I dying on the floor of the Hospital yesterday? My heavens how fragile all living things are.

Fragile indeed.  

'Be back in a while.

Stay Tuned.

"The Old Movement"

I always liked this old Commie tune below there. This version of the "Red Flag" by Billy Bragg. As ya know my Mom was a Party Member in the late 1940's.

A member of the "Young Communists" at City University.

In those days as in South Africa the "Reds" as they were called were the only ones paying serious attention to the American Apartheid of the era. That, and the routine race killings mostly, but not exclusively in the U.S. South. 

As a young lad almost the only white children I played with were the children of my Mother's old Movement friends. The other white kids were Jews from the block. Well at least before their parents took one look at us, and ran to the 'Burbs.

Btw these Reds were the only adult Whites ever to visit our house that weren't FBI or Red Squad Cops.

My Mom, and Dad were by today's standards mildly political.

However back then that was more than enough to get them watched. As a boy I met most of the folks that would eventually become National Figures...including Dr. King.

'Course I had no idea about any of that. I was a kid living a kid's life best I could what with the laws being what they were. Yes Comrades Jim Crow was enforced right here in the Emerald City.

There were places we just couldn't go or live in.

So yeah I have a place for some of that Commie stuff in my heart. My folks were just the sort they, and my Mom's old University friends were just the sort to be disappeared by the Stalinist factions.

Bleep'em to hell.

I remember the Hungarian Ambassador to the U.N. He was a very nice man very kind to me. His wife used to feed me pasties. My Mom was their seamstress. Not many business jobs for University educated non-white women back then. 

During the 1956 Revolution I recall the serious discussions my Mom had with them both. Well 'all' adult talk was mysterious, and serious to a young child. Years later Mom told me that they were in sympathy with the Revolt, but had to be quiet, and had to go back when the Russians came in.

Serious, Mysterious.

Anyway so yeah I'm part Commie even to this day. I guess I belong to the "Leave the People the FUCK Alone Woodstock cranky Artist" wing. My dear departed brother ended up a Republican. Mostly he said for business reasons. Something about just the way things are done in California.

Again...mysterious.

Maybe more about this later. My families history has been on my mind of late is all.

Btw up above there. That's our Fifteen Star National Flag from roughly the Federal Era. For reasons I could never really explain I just have a fondness for that particular version of the Colors.

Odd that.


Stay Tuned.

"It's PARTY TIME!"

This November Vote INGSOC!

The Don't Fuck With Us PARTY!!

Finally no more of the Liberal or Conservative static. At last a Party that shoots from the hip, and a lot of other places too! INGSOC Promises to reduce the population of Annoying Buttholes by 100%!

VOTE INGSOC!

All History Will Vanish like a Fart in a Winter Gale! We All Good Comrades will Live in an Eternal 'Present' of Plenty!

DOWN WITH FREEDOM 

DOWN WITH LOVE 

DOWN WITH THOSE ANNOYING NOISES YOU CAN NEVER FIGURE OUT WHERE IT'S COMING FROM!

LONG LIVE INGSOC, AND THE GUY THAT STARTED IT.

(...whose Glorious Name btw you will be given at your polling station. Don't vote for that other guy "NOBODY". Yeah he talks a big deal. 

"Nobody will bring Peace, and Health Care for all etc.,...blah blah.

Bleep'em. Naw we're da real deal so Vote INGSOC...you'll be glad ya did.)

Comrades Vote Early, and Often.


Stay Tuned.

"Peaceful Flowing Living"

"...good grief!"

Well okay I have to say yeah I'm still a Peacenik, BUT...there's always a "But" isn't there. 

Anyway as a child of 'my' generation. The post WW2 generation...ya know the folks that fucked everything up after our parents gave us a new, and more or less better world.

Yeah us.

Well the thing about "us" at least those of us that were boys. Queer Trans Straight don't matter. We 'all', well a whole lot of us anyway. We know the details of the second part of the "Second Hundred Years War".

Known to the rubes as the First Second, and Cold Wars...dummies.

Anyway being forever over-shadowed by that war in which 'All' our fathers uncles...Queer or not, and the fathers, and uncles of all our playmates fought in. Our mothers, and aunts worked in defense plants or were in the uniformed services as well.

With all that Serious Noise going on...

We the lot of us became obsessed with what some now call the "Good War" or the "Good"  part of the latest Hundred Years Floor Show. My dad was in the Air Corp. My Trinidadian part of the family saw several of my relatives fly for the RAF in Europe, and Asia.

So no surprise I wanted to fly as well...till I found out what one had to do get get wings

Ultimately you have to kill people. On the ground, and in the air.

??!!!!

This was the deal breaker.

However the myth of Valor, and all those other lies carried on with me, and most of the boys I knew. Carried on with my brother, and cousins too. So much so they all...I mean 'all' became Paratroopers. So did the boys from my block...the whole lot.

Most of them came back from Vietnam.

Though some minus limbs or their minds.

All this being so my fantasy warrior dream ended..rather completely. Though strangely my interest as opposed to obsession with the WW2 war in the air continues.

I'll bring this up with my new shrink whenever I finally get one.

So I still build models of Spitfires Hurricanes Mustangs BF-109's Stuka's, and Mig-1's.

I read the few comix's on the subject that show up now, and then as well. This above "War Stories" is an example. Written by Garth Ennis the best author in the field. Also artist Matt Martin a first class graphic novel artist.

Mind you this isn't all that "Biggles" crap. ...Google him. Images below.

This stuff is no fun I don't know why I read it. It's similar to the realist post Vietnam war comics. Some written, and drawn by vets of the conflict. Believe me if you never saw those they sugar coated nothing!

Now that I think of it the few War comixs that are around are deeply effected by our long deadly pointless Indochina experience. They are 'not' making recruits for any new war. 

As the post WW2 editions did.

I suppose all this will stop when My generation kicks the bucket in a few years. Till then this strange after glow from that so avoidable so destructive, and insane Second Hundreds Years War will continue.

Sorry can't think of a nice neat way to tie all this off...I guess because for me at least it's not over. 

Never will be. 

Here's that Brit "Biggles" mayhem I mentioned.

"Pip Pip!"

...good grief!

Be shot up, and burning to death while trapped in a tight cockpit apparently 'never' happened in this version of the war. 

Right...shoots down 10 Stuka's yet still has fuel, and ammo enough to tangle with a fur-ball of 109's....and WINS??!!!!!

Sort of like Cowboy heroes whose six shooters held hundreds of rounds.

Yet folks believed both of these fantasies.


Stay Tuned.