Mourning, Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth. I have got to cut it out.

I am/was going to write about Ted Cruz calling for carpet bombing. Something...

But every time I type carpet bombing, tears roll down my cheeks.

It is the concussion not worked out yet. I just cry like a fool.

This is what the Lord says: “A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” Jeremiah 31:15

It is the awful photos of Dresden. Dresden had no strategic value. We broke it because we could. It is what Kurt Vonnegut wrote about being there and here:

“The corpses, most of them in ordinary cellars, were so numerous and represented such a health hazard that they were cremated on huge funeral pyres, or by flamethrowers whose nozzles were thrust into the cellars, without being counted or identified,” Vonnegut wrote in “Fates Worse Than Death.


“America is the wealthiest nation on Earth, but its people are mainly poor, and poor Americans are urged to hate themselves. To quote the American humorist Kin Hubbard, 'It ain’t no disgrace to be poor, but it might as well be.' It is in fact a crime for an American to be poor, even though America is a nation of poor. Every other nation has folk traditions of men who were poor but extremely wise and virtuous, and therefore more estimable than anyone with power and gold. No such tales are told by the American poor. They mock themselves and glorify their betters. The meanest eating or drinking establishment, owned by a man who is himself poor, is very likely to have a sign on its wall asking this cruel question: 'if you’re so smart, why ain’t you rich?' There will also be an American flag no larger than a child’s hand – glued to a lollipop stick and flying from the cash register.

Americans, like human beings everywhere, believe many things that are obviously untrue. Their most destructive untruth is that it is very easy for any American to make money. They will not acknowledge how in fact hard money is to come by, and, therefore, those who have no money blame and blame and blame themselves. This inward blame has been a treasure for the rich and powerful, who have had to do less for their poor, publicly and privately, than any other ruling class since, say Napoleonic times. Many novelties have come from America. The most startling of these, a thing without precedent, is a mass of undignified poor. They do not love one another because they do not love themselves.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

I was born today in December on the 9th in 1943.

I am going to have steamed Alaskan Crab with Drawn Butter for birthday supper. I am eating an almond croissant. Nothing hurts me at the moment although I seem rather dim. God bless us every one.

To All my Friends, Foes and Fellow Music Gnomes

Hello Everybody.

I had an MRI yesterday. And what is even better, I do not need or want a pill for pain for the first time since November 13. There is nothing like severe pain to adjust your priorities - clears your sinuses right out.

I ate. I bathed myself by myself. I have the cutest Brazilian physical therapist named Leo who is also a gardener. He and I will be walking around the Hood with my new walker. Leo says I cannot go anywhere by myself.

Leo hopes I 'will not give up gardening.' I will never give up gardening. What is even funnier was hearing a snatch of a fellow client's explanation of how how he happened to be in the orthopedist's office "...well, I was in the garden..."

My Shrink beat my GP up thoroughly for conspiring - with my garden - to get me.

You Gnomes from the Music Grotto even made mention in the 'Yes, she is Sane' testament. I do not know why. I encourage her to read these pages. While the love and conflict around here is superior, some of us may make the SANE CATEGORY only with a some judicious trimming and shoving into place.

Thank you for all the cards and flowers and good wishes.

I am on SLOW. It took more than an hour to compose and correct this note to you all. That is pathetic. So I still need brain rest.

And just so you know it is really me, let me tell you I would rather fuck Leo. Hmmm, I am getting better.

This is Plum's kid, she has a concussion and needs rest. She's alive and doing ok. When she has the ok from her doc she'll be back. She misses you all and hopes to see you guys soon.