Saturday, June 8, 2019

I love Quakers. They make me want to be a better person. And they tell me how to do that.

George Fox said this about those who quote scripture or Christ unaccompanied by agape love. I am sorely in need of love given current events. I am angry and scornful. Might as well be in Hell. 

The following passage is from "The testimony of Margaret Fox concerning her late husband," from The Journal of George Fox, 1694. In this excerpt, which contains the famous "what canst thou say?" query, Margaret Fell is describing George Fox's "sermon" at the Ulverston steeple-house. It was the first time she had heard him speak.
And so he went on, and said, "That Christ was the Light of the world, and lighteth every man that cometh into the world; and that by this light they might be gathered to God," &c. I stood up in my pew, and wondered at his doctrine, for I had never heard such before. And then he went on, and opened the scriptures, and said, "The scriptures were the prophets' words, and Christ's and the apostles' words, and what, as they spoke, they enjoyed and possessed, and had it from the Lord": and said, "Then what had any to do with the scriptures, but as they came to the Spirit that gave them forth? You will say, 'Christ saith this, and the apostles say this;' but what canst thou say? Art thou a child of the Light, and hast thou walked in the Light, and what thou speakest, is it inwardly from God?" &c. This opened me so, that it cut me to the heart; and then I saw clearly we were all wrong. So I sat down in my pew again, and cried bitterly: and I cried in my spirit to the Lord, "We are all thieves; we are all thieves; we have taken the scriptures in words, and know nothing of them in ourselves."
Members of the Society of the Friends of Jesus (Hicksite Quakers) believe divine revelation is ongoing. And it must be. This formula for living beats the 10 Commandments bigtime.

Simple Formula for Living

Live beneath your means. Return everything you borrow. Stop blaming other people. Admit it when you make a mistake. Give clothes not worn to charity. Do something nice and try not to get caught. Listen more; talk less. Every day take a 30-minute walk. Strive for excellence, not perfection. Don't make excuses. Don't argue. Get organized. Be kind to people [and all other beings]. Be kind to unkind people. Let someone cut ahead of you in line. Be humble. Realize and accept that life isn't fair. Know when to keep your mouth shut. Go an entire day without criticizing anyone. Learn from the past. Plan for the future. Live in the present. Don't sweat the small stuff. It's all small stuff.
We are not the dogs of God but his children. Prophetic religion has to do with relationships, not observances, with awe not belief, with love not guilt, with life not property, With the Way not moralism. Obedience to the Way is indeed of great use if it is freely given, but of no use if it is compelled. - Herrymon Maurer

Saturday, May 25, 2019

Gourmets for Mc Govern Banana Cake

Library book sales are the bomb. Yes, I am even political about food. Food is very political.

I found a small hand bound cookbook entitled Gourmets for Mc Govern. It is full of charming illustrations. The only colophon reads "This cookbook has been peacefully and lovingly put together by volunteers for Mc Govern." The recipes do have attribution.

This is the perfect Banana Cake recipe because it tells you exactly how much banana to use. I hate when a recipe says "two bananas." Bananas come in all shapes and sizes. You can mess with quantity in ordinary cooking. Baking needs more precision than that. I give you the recipe verbatim.
Ms. Joan Cantor's Banana Cake
Cream together:
1 cup Sugar
1/2 cup Shortening
Add:
2 Eggs
4 tablespoons Sour Cream
1 teaspoon Baking Soda
Beat well.
Add:
1 cup Banana pulp
1 and 1/2 cups Flour
1/4 teaspoon Salt
1 teaspoon Vanilla
Bake at 350 degrees for 1/2 to 3/4 of an hour. Cake will shrink away from the sides of the pan when done.

Fatty Trumpkin

Fatty Trumpkin runs for Prez.
Everybody laughs at
Everything he sez.

The editorial cartoonist is from The Daily Call.
Mark Taylor
RoundRiver Institute LLC
Genoa, WI
mark@thedailycall.org

Meet Joshua Monroe, the Man Who Makes Nude Trump Statues
- Read more by Amelia Warshaw 

The Verge has published 11 photos of NYC’s naked Trump statue by Joseph Bareham. As much Trump as you can handle. I liked this one the best.

Bareham is a first rate photographer. See more work at the link.I will not make a joke about the photographer's name...I will not make a joke...I will not etc....


The Progressives chime in and remind me once again how much I despise Progressives, the zealots of the Left.
MADHURI SATHISH
Body-Shaming Donald Trump Isn't
An Appropriate Or Effective Way To Criticize Him
On Thursday, naked statues of Republican nominee Donald Trump — commissioned by art collective Indecline — appeared in multiple U.S. cities, some of which were captioned "The Emperor Has No Balls." But while many people, including the New York City Parks Department, seem to have found humor in these statues, body-shaming Donald Trump in this way is completely inappropriate. He's a bigoted person who has said a number of awful things, but he is not awful or bigoted because of his body.
My dear Lady, I would like to stake him out on an Ant Hill in Texas covered with molasses. Ridicule is my compromise for the sake of order. Dude would not hesitate a moment to evaluate my charms. 

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

SALMAGUNDI - May 22, 2019


salmagundi noun
sal·​ma·​gun·​di | \ ˌsal-mə-ˈgən-dē \

1: a salad plate of chopped meats, anchovies, eggs, and vegetables arranged in rows for contrast and dressed with a salad dressing

2: a heterogeneous mixture : POTPOURRI


Ben Carson is daily so high he is looking down on the eagles. Congress must be randomly and regularly drug tested. What is sauce for the working man must be sauce for Congress. We need to start with Ben Carson, Steve King, and Kyrsten Sinema.


Tom Cotton is showing us his ass again. Cotton has said he can be opposed to abortion because we live in a democracy.

My dupa is not a democracy. No thank you. I will have lots of hot sex. I will use birth control. If I become pregnant, I will gestate or abort as I see fit. Not as Tom Cotton sees fit.

Anthropologically speaking, Humankind has three strategies  for dealing with unwanted reproduction (births): contraception, abortion and infanticide. All three are practiced in every culture worldwide historically and currently.

Those who restrict contraception and abortion make infanticide, child and maternal mortality inevitable. We have many in vitro examples of this but the one that troubles me the most at the moment is this example http://www.dailymail.co.uk/new...

There is nothing moral about controlling women's reproductive choices by law or by shaming. Illegal abortion and sepsis/hemorrhage in childbirth are the three leading causes of maternal death worldwide. The USA has the highest maternal mortality rate of the developed countries. Women have blood in the fertility game. Abortion and contraception are human rights. Cotton does not occupy the moral high ground.

Monday, April 29, 2019

2020 Election or OMG DNC WTF? with Update #2 or I fucked up.

This article was a mess. I apologize to anyone who saw the first version. I have a booboo and pain pills make you wonky. I made no sense. Some will say I make no sense below. Do not hate on me. 

Graphic by Buddy McCue.
Where I stand:

No Bernie. No Biden. No 20th century 'moldy old men.' They do not get it. Hat tip to Moms Mabley. You can see her doing the Moldy Old Man routine in a video below. Bad video of a great Comedian. Rest in peace and laughter.

I want Warren/Abrams
NERD AND MENTAT NINJA 2020.

If the Rs run DJT and Ds run Biden, I will vote for Biden because I am not suicidal. Uncle Joe is a good guy. Donald Trump is a senile thug.

If the Ds run Biden and the Rs nominate Weld, I will vote for Weld and not Biden. I watched the Thomas hearings real time. I am a radical feminist. Not the quiet earnest kind. When I saw that happening on my TV, I wanted to tear up the pea patch. Sorry Joe, you gots to go.

Weld is a good man. Uncle Joe is a good man. Weld is a Conservative of the honorable kind. Uncle Joe is a Liberal 0f the honorable kind who set the women's movement back 30 years.

I voted for Bernie. I got Hillary. I voted for Hillary. I got Trump. I am an old Hippy. Something is wrong in this picture. Burn Baby Burn.

Voting Republican for the first time in my adult life is the only civilized way I can burn it all down. I am not compromising or accommodating with the DNC. I want a pony. They better not give me a dog. I want Elizabeth Warren.

Update: goddamnitalltohell. I just listened to one of Biden's speeches and I love him. Life is hard and then you die. I am not changing my mind. No Bernie. No Biden.





Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Bodega Boycott in New York City


Stepping into his Brooklyn bodega, Mohammed Almuntaser recalled how his heart sank. Staring up at him from the entryway was a copy of The New York Post, with a picture of the World Trade Center in flames on the cover and a headline attacking a Muslim member of Congress, Ilhan Omar.
“It was disgusting. It was racist. I couldn’t believe this racist thing was sitting at my store,” said Mr. Almuntaser, 29, who owns four bodegas in the city. “The very next day, I told everyone who works at my stores not to accept the paper.”
He was not alone, and a boycott of The Post began.

Authoritarians are only about 25-30% of us. We just need to babysit them to make sure they do not hurt themselves or us. Takes person power. Yemeni Merchants believe in democracy and they know how to use it. I want such human beings as citizens. They have a twitter account.

My Grands were immigrants from Italy and Poland. I do not know if they were ever citizens. I spoke two languages when I was a child. I am too close to the immigrant experience to vote for any Republican as they now stand politically re immigration and immigrants.

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Smack him again for me, Miss Maxine Waters.

Auntie Maxine enjoyed this encounter thoroughly. Minuchin turned red. Miss Waters did not work hard or turn a well coiffed hair. Go get him, Madame Chair. I cannot wait to watch another encounter. 


Republicans have been humiliating, stalking, shaming, blaming, denigrating and attacking women for more than a decade now. If you need references because you doubt it is all that bad, try http://goprapeadvisorychart... for starters. Remember 'rape is just another form of conception?'


A "progressive" person made this comment:
"I have nothing but contempt for Mnuchin, but Waters' handling of the situation was petty and childish. Rather than flexing her chairperson muscles and trying to force him to commit to future appearances, and basically daring him to leave without permission, she should have just politely pressed on with the questions. Bickering like that is unbecoming."
Sick of people who call themselves progressive denigrating Maxine Waters for making Mnuchin squirm. Politics is more than 'the rules.' Politics is emotional and psychological in large part as well. Yes, Virginia, there really are Alt-Left Authoritarians.

Note that as Chair Ms. Waters has subpoena power. There is no 'force him to come back.' Congress has oversight of the Executive Branch. It is Mnuchin's job to show up.

Maxine Waters was magnificent in that hearing. She made clear to Mnuchin that Congress is in charge and he is an ant in this struggle. She won a significant battle. Waters made me proud. She handled baby Steve perfectly.

Why do I write this. Republicans are at again.

Mississippi’s governor has signed into law one of the strictest abortion bans in the country, making it even more difficult for women to get abortions in a state where only one clinic still operates.
The bill, set to take effect in July, bans abortions after a doctor can detect a fetal heartbeat during an ultrasound, unless the mother’s health is at extreme risk. Heartbeats can be found just six weeks into pregnancy — before some women even know they are pregnant. - Reis Thebault. 
I am tired of Repubs and fellow travelers. Auntie Maxine did it right. God bless you, Maxine Waters. Especially now that it looks like gay men and men of color will have their 'equal rights' before any woman in this country. Think we will ever get the Equal Rights Amendment passed?


If women ever get equal civil rights in the United States, efforts to control women's bodies by legislative fiat like the new effort to push heartbeat bills would be made inoperative and moot in my opinion. Your opinion is...?

Sunday, March 31, 2019

SALMAGUNDI

Rodriguez 
Graphics are from Favianna Rodriguez and Buddy McCue in that order.

RANT:

PutinPoot has troops in South America. Trump intends to stop aid to 3 South American countries to assist him. And nobody is talking about it. I am going to say it again. There are Russian troops in South America. Some of us too busy hating on Sarah Slanders. Counterproductive to do that bigtime. 

Roman Catholic priests are burning Harry Potter books. Tit for tat I say. Harry Potter fans get to burn pedophile priests and those who covered for them. One flaming priest for 10 books. I think that is reasonable.
.
Kings and Barons are back in style. You know - feudal system. A Corporation is now a legal person with religion and freedom of speech. Only difference between a human person and a corporation? A Corpo never dies. A Monarchy never dies. Takes messy revolutions to move such cultural institutions. 

Men: do not touch women without asking if it is OK. Especially do not give women a little pat on the shoulder in a formal setting like government, medicine etc. That is how women's careers are halted. Gives rise to 'she slept her way up' for example.

The Old Men who are in power are moldy old men. Hat tip to Moms Mably. They lived their lives and formed their young selves when women were significantly enchained. So they treat women with a combination of 'isn't she adorable' and 'get that cunt cuz she persisted...bitch' in a situation of political or economic combat. It is what they know. Habit. 

I advise women: get a small Italian stiletto, offer to kiss their Uncle cheeks, and shove it into a buttock. "Sting like a bee." Practice at home on an orange. It will be 7-10 minutes before they even know they are bleeding.

I have reached peak bipolar rage obviously. These whackadoos are putting children in cages. I cannot take it any more. That fact has taken me so low it is making me sick in body and mind. I have to avoid going to places or the News because no one can grieve all the time. Not without breaking.
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 NIV).
No Biden. I remember Hill/Thomas hearing. I want Warren and/or Abrams. It is going to take charisma and intelligence to beat the traitors in our midst and the corpos. Both have it. The rest of the field is not one bit possible.

Pompeo is a pompous, obese, weak and sweaty guy trying hard to convince us he is a warrior. Epic fail.

It is bad. We are all at the mercy of rich people. We have to stop this now. 

I say we all march on DC and surround the White House, sing kumbaya songs, and refuse to leave until Trumpus leaves. Nothing in and nothing out until he leaves. Let us see if our government will fire on us. We call it the NOTHING IN AND NOTHING OUT MARCH. I am serious as a heart attack.

McCue

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

The Surrender of General R. E. Lee to General U.S. Grant

Note: Repeating because of increased interest in the era. Published April 9, 2010

April 9 is the anniversary of the surrender of General Robert E. Lee to General Ulysses S. Grant which ended the military phase of the American Civil War.

To mark the occasion, Bede's Beat brings you a sample of Kurt Weill's settings of four of Walt Whitman Civil War poems.



Shortly after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and the German declaration of war against the U.S., Kurt Weill -- who had fled Nazi Germany in 1933 and moved to the U.S. in 1935 -- began to set three of Walt Whitman's Civil War poems to music.

The poems Weill chose form a cycle which was completed by the addition of the setting of a fourth poem in 1947.

The first poem, Beat! Beat! Drums!, begins the cycle with an enthusiastic martial call to arms. The middle part of the cycle is devoted to the inevitable result of war: death.

The second, O Captain! My Captain!, about death of a leader in time of war, proved prophetic.


The third poem, Come Up from the Fields Father uses the imagery of autumn and the harvest to presage the grief of a mother upon learning of her son’s death -- a reminder of the toll of war on the home front.

The cycle concludes with Dirge for Two Veterans, and the contrast of Whitman's lament with the first poem in the cycle is reflected in music for each: while the first movement is sprightly, martial and optimistic, the final poem is set to a funeral march. 


Saturday, March 23, 2019

Two Days into Spring

Spring this year began March 20. First we have Music and Coffee. This was in my Uncle Marco's record collection. I used to play it on an old Victrola on rainy days in the attic.


I wrote this yesterday. I am on sIow. I woke up dreaming of Polish comfort food - Fried Cabbage. They tell me it is Spring but there is a driving cold rain making the house damp and cold. I am wearing a beanie indoors.

I share with you a recipe for Bacon and Cabbage. I make it in a cast iron skillet and I can eat the whole pan all by myself. Vegans/Vegetarians can just leave out the Bacon, saute in another fat, and add more garlic and some peperoncini maybe for a bit of zing. Mild red Bell Pepper might be nice too. 

Spring is on its way! I can tell by the seed catalogs in the mail.

Fried Cabbage and Bacon


6 slices bacon, chopped
1 large onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 large head cabbage, cored and sliced
1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon paprika

Put the bacon in a large heavy bottomed pot and cook over medium-high heat until crispy, about 10 minutes. Add the onion and garlic; saute until the onion caramelizes; about 10 minutes. Immediately stir in the cabbage and continue to cook and stir another 10 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder, and paprika. Reduce heat to low, cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, about 30 minutes more.

This is so good with some Fish Fry and a Beer.



Sunday, March 17, 2019

God bless the Irish. They are a Warrior Folk. UPDATE.

Never pick a fight with an Irishman. They are brilliant wordsmiths and fearsome warriors. Men and women both. Check out Queen Maeve.

The drawing is Albrecht Durer's Three Kerns. Kern was adopted into English as a term for a Gaelic soldier in medieval Ireland.

“Fascism is capitalism plus murder.”
- Upton Sinclair

“The essence of fascism is to make laws forbidding everything and then enforce them selectively against your enemies.”
- John Lescroart, A Plague of Secrets

The American fascist would prefer not to use violence. His method is to poison the channels of public information. - Henry Wallace. 







Saturday, March 16, 2019

St. Patrick's Day Bread.

Treacle Bread is a slightly sweet Irish Soda Bread. It seemed an appropriate recipe for March because it is the month in which we celebrate St. Patrick's Day. St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland and most Americans pretend we are Irish for a day every year.

A thin slice of this bread well buttered or with a bit of jam and a cup of black tea in the afternoon is one of the finer pleasures in life. This bread toasts nicely too when it is a bit hard.

Miss Peggy Daum's Treacle Bread

3 cups sifted all purpose Flour
1 teaspoon Salt
1 tablespoon granulated Sugar
1 scant teaspoon Baking Soda
3/4 teaspoon Baking Powder
1 cup Whole Wheat Flour
1/2 cup Molasses
1 cup Buttermilk, divided

Sift all purpose flour, salt, sugar, baking soda, and baking power into a large bowl. Thoroughly mix in whole wheat flour. Warm the molasses a bit and combine it with 1/2 the buttermilk. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and stir in the buttermilk mixture. You want a soft dough. So add the other bit of buttermilk as needed.

Turn out on a floured board. Knead only enough to shape into a ball. You do not want to develop gluten. Flatten the ball of dough into a circle 11/2 inches thick. Place into a greased and floured 8-9 inch baking pan. Dough does not have to fill the pan. Cut a cross 3/8 inch thick across the top and down the sides of the loaf.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Bake bread 40 to 45 minutes or until bread is browned and loaf sounds hollow when you knock on it. Best sliced thin and lightly buttered, toasted or untoasted.



Sunday, March 10, 2019

Hot damn!


The Honorable Stephanie Flowers is a force to be reckoned with.  Watch as she ends a Stand Your Ground Bill in an Arkansas Judiciary Committee hearing all by herself. Spit-spot. 

Watch the man on the left try and stop her. Flowers' argument is sound and informed. I hope the dude is not a Democrat. If he is, he needs fired. Pay attention to this smart woman, Democrats. This is a/the winning argument.




Friday, March 8, 2019

Meet an ALT-Left Troll or Two


I hang at a "Progressive Website." The comments below are from a few regular posters who shall remain nameless.

Comments refer to Paula Duncan who appears in this video with Lawrence O'Donnell. Ms. Duncan was a juror in the Manafort trial. It is important to watch all the way through. Ms. Duncan, who is a Trump voter, is going to tell you why Trump has lost his war on America. We all, pro and con, know him better now.


COMMENTS IN QUESTION
Manny - No, you’re seeing the poorly educated in action. The fact that Dump hangs around all these convicted criminals means nothing to her. She just loved him on the Apprentice.
Mo - Her freaking eyeballs had a will of their own...bobbing about in their sockets...can't imagine speaking to her face to face....very disturbing and disquieting...
Jack - Agree. if she voted for President Stupidass, she's a stupidass and shouldn't be allowed to make any decisions.
Paula Duncan is an American Hero. She took a principled stand for the Rule of Law and simple civility. She did not allow her personal bias to affect her public duty. Praise her with great praise.

Duncan does not believe the MSMedia. She has no reason to respect them. First Trump was a star and now he is shyte? All this information coming out now was available when Trump was running. MSMedia pissed their pants from happiness over how exciting Trump was. They hung on his every word. We are 45th from the top in press freedom worldwide. Do you believe the Press? I am not fond of infotainment myself.

Paula Duncan has taught me to stop abusing the Trump voter. She renewed my respect for America and Americans.

Trolls come to play in social media. They are amateur and professional. They are Republican, Progressive, Russian, Marketing and/or Disinformation Specialists. They fly all flags and colors. Job #1 for these wankers is fomenting anger, division, and contempt among Americans.

What is the difference between the above Trolls and Donald Trump et al functionally? Not much. Not too damn much. And I smell hanky panky. One juror and one juror only who refused to convict on 10 counts. Old Man judge reduces the sentence and thereby makes the crimes look small. I smell Rat shyte.



Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Schultz for POTUS?

“never trust anyone
who says
they do not see color.
this means
to them,
you are invisible.”
― Nayyirah Waheed

I trust my gut. I cannot vote for Schultz. If I gaze at him in action too long, I want to shove my foot, in my work boot with cleats, right up his nancy ass.

I try to avoid men that arouse that sentiment in me. Not because I am particularly peaceful. Oh no, because I might do it on a good day and so far I have managed to avoid jail or the nuthouse.


Thursday, January 31, 2019

NERD and MENTAT NINJA 2020 ! with Music

Elizabeth Warren
Stacey Abrams
2020 !

We need financial and voting integrity and reform bigtime. These women have been in the trenches fighting for a long damn time. They got the guts. Give them the glory. They have the experience. Anybody want to try an amateur businessman again?

Graphic below our heroes by Buddy McCue.








Sunday, January 27, 2019

Morning in August - Real Philadephia - #1 - First Draft

I keep baker's hours. Snoring at nine p.m. and up at three a.m. Philadelphia time. My front step is on the pavement. What happens on the street happens fifteen feet from my desk. Dawn happening. Peace.

I began to feel vibrations in the ether. Maria de los Dolores passing: earrings flashing, bracelets clashing, accompanying cherubs jiggy jigging. Everybody calls her Lola. Lola is louder and crazier than I am. I find that soothing. Everyone else runs when they see her coming. Lola starts her circuit ride around ten o'clock most days. Big disturbance in the pattern means big news. It is the Cherubs. Little fuckers tell her everything. So I opened my door.

"What?"
"Baby Dee is dead. You got a stamp? Give me fifty cents and I get my own stamp."

Lola jiggy jigged away, Cherubs in tow and one dollar richer. I sat until the light told me it was coffee hour. I meet all my neighbors at the bodega, one time or another.

Robbers shot the clerk behind the counter at the bodega five years ago. Then they went straight home. Cops had them in 45 minutes. Robbers had a wee problem with drugs. We got new owners of course. They spent their first year looking fierce. Now as the hipsters and Art studios begin their invasion, they just look bored.

Everybody in the world goes to the bodega just the same. The bodega is our oasis in a food and sundries desert. I get mango ice cream and Dominican beef stew. I get the heat. I get succulent roasted pork leg. I get fly tapes, socks, lottery tickets and EZwider. I get the story.

When I rounded the corner onto Tangerine Street, I saw the Commodore and Shorty.  The Commodore looks like a mocha stork. Just as tall as can be. I call him the Commodore because he is a sharp dresser. Always looks like he is about to go sailing. Classic Sport, you know what I mean? Shorty is short and short.

"What happened to Baby Dee?"

"Maybe you don't know Baby Dee worked with these young druggy kids. One kid freaked and Baby Dee was trying to calm him down. Boy shot him 4 times. Shorty found him."

Shorty nodded. He short.

"What can I do?"

"Funeral on Thursday at the Baptist Church at three o'clock. They started putting candles and flowers around his door. Shorty put up a balloon say PEACE."

Shorty nodded. Just stood right there. Shortening.

I keep walking toward coffee at the bodega like always. I pass Baby Dee's altar. It grew over days. Candles, flowers, notes. He was the Mayor of the 'hood and kept the day folk nicely separate from the night folk.

Baby Dee and I, we had a thing. Knees. I would hobble around to the bodega on my (I can still walk and get my own coffee) mission every morning at 7 a.m. Dee ruined his knee being a football person. He would stop detailing some Cadillac, limp over and hug me. I am like a child. I thought it was forever. I can walk now and Baby Dee is gone to Jesus.

Miss Norma - Real Philadelphia #2

Midnight. It was a soft day. Now it is a balmy night. A gentle breeze is sending smoke from the chemical plant out to sea.

Miss Norma is parked outside my door in her running car. I can smell the engine and hear the exhaust. Norma is dancing in her seat with the windows closed and the bass turned up so high the car is pulsating. She has been tossing her hair and waving her arms about for 20 minutes now. Norma has good taste in music, thank you God.

Norma is living in the rowhouse next door with another single Mom and eight children. Norma is sheltering a family while their house is repaired after a fire. The combined children range in age from 3 to 14. It has been three months now. You would be pulsating in your car too. Norma was so trashed after the Eagles game that she was out there pulsating at 2 am. She told me "I do not think I can make it inside." Offers of aid were refused. All must be well because she is running another concert tonight.

Norma has five children. Rosy Posy is my favorite. I promised crayons to all the kidniks for Xmas and then I fell. For awhile I could not write a sentence or even read. I need the boxes with the sharpener and all the colors. Soon children, soon. The girls came by after Christmas and politely reminded me I made a present promise. They are beautiful and I love them.

Norma and I, we have an unspoken deal. I ignore the constant pile of dogshit in her backyard, and her blood curdling howls of frustration that penetrate the brick walls that divide our rowhouses, and she lets me borrow the children and pretend I am their Grandma. Solid. 

Monday, January 14, 2019

I just heard this...

Occasionally I write a Poem. Sometimes good and sometimes bad.
As long as the Poem floem,
I am happy and not sad.

I just heard this on the cable tv...

"...the rescue mission was successful.
Twenty three people died."

I thought to myself:
Self, "War is peace."

Then I thought:
I really ought to name this poem
Quotation to the Second Power
...and spoiled the whole reflection...erection...perfection. 

Thursday, January 3, 2019

I am old as dirt.

Graphic by Favianna Rodriguez.

Bless me, for I have sinned. I have done everything. I have been everywhere and nowhere. There is nothing I have to do. I am not at all accustomed to this luxury.

I got married. I gave birth, not in that order. I worked. I went ornately mad. I 'tuned in, turned on and dropped out.' I did my Art. The only thing that is left for me to do is become a Real Girl. And die. That is a lot more challenging than it may seem to the casual lie...I mean eye. I am a Beast.

I am astounded these sentences have appeared. I am dry. I am empty. Lady Shrink says that like a computer, I am buffering. I am terrified I will be in nowhere blah forever. When my Eye is on my eye, I I I...

Thank you Jesus, I can write something again. I just wrote something again. I do not believe Jesus will save me. There is nothing to be saved from. I just enjoy the conversation.



Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Peace on Earth

There is no trust more sacred than the one the world holds with children. There is no duty more important than ensuring that their rights are respected, that their welfare is protected, that their lives are free from fear and want and that they grow up in peace. -- Kofi Annan




Happy New Year, Cher Reader.

As we discovered on the train (terrain?), tomorrow never happens. It's all the same fucking day, man. - Janis Joplin

“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.
Make your mistakes, next year and forever.” ― Neil Gaiman

Saturday, December 29, 2018

MAGIC GOOGLE FINGER - TED CRUZ or Dancing the Sniveling Dip

So some brilliant comedian created the nickname TED OOZE for Ted Cruz. So funny I had to google it. This is what I found. I work to attribute work to the Artist but sometimes I can find nothing. Moral: sign your work always.

Ted Cruz...a poem
by a lot from Lydia

Ted Cruz tells Texas: fear Beto O’Rourke
He wants to take your guns, then your salt pork!
Be concerned, he’ll make us California!
Dye your hair, then remember… I warned ya
Of silicon… but I mean silicone
We’re the lone star state, just leave us alone
Don’t let smooth talker’s common sense dethrone
Me! We’re no tofupian, saxophone
Playing state. California ranked at 5
In world economies… who needs to thrive?
Be terrified, he’s ahead in the polls!
Vote for corruption… not cool guy Beto.






Friday, December 14, 2018

I am NOT shopping.

"Bah, humbug." - Ebenezer Scrooge
I remember when I loved shopping. My Nonna would get her shopping bag. She and I would go to Mazilli-Baptisti to buy Italian staples. There would be dried beans, chestnuts, and lentils in barrels. The smell of cheese and cured olives was overwhelming. Then we visit the Butcher. Then dish towels from the Lady-Who-Speaks-Italian-so-Fast I cannot understand her. Then the Baker where the scent of anise would make me faint with cookie anticipation. Shopping was a dignified sensual tour of the neighborhood. We got all the Chambersburg news and tangerines at Nelly's Fruit. It was the most exciting part of my week. I was about four when she started to take me shopping.

I am not shopping anymore. Shopping has lost its charm. Why? People are shooting each other in the stores. Every fricking thing for sale is made of or wrapped in plastic. You know, that stuff that is never going to biodegrade and is forming islands?  Most of the things that compose the seatrash were not even manufactured in the 50s. Somehow we lived without plastic bags. And lived well. The streets were clean even in poor neighborhoods. The beaches and the surf were pristine.

You know what happened to Mazilli-Baptisti? The last time I went there the place was dark, the door was ajar and there was almost no stock. It was dark and dank and smelled bad. Then the owners, the Grandsons, got busted for dealing cocaine in the 80s. "Mannagia America!" the old folks would say around the table.

I am not shopping. Mostly because I cannot afford to buy anything. Who is buying all this stuff? You got me. I only know one thing. As the Corpos who make everything we buy got larger and richer, the trash piles also got larger. And the jobs got smaller and meaner.

The Corpos privatize the profits and socialize the trash. You see them picking up any of this "convenient and disposable" crap? Or paying taxes for the city to do it? Plum Street is full of trash I pick up myself. Trash seems to flow down Plum Street from the Avenue like tampon applicators on the high tide.

I have had enough. I own enough. I am tired of dusting the stuff. I am not shopping. I wonder if I am alone.



Nobody died. Nobody got robbed. Not much of a crime says Ghouliani.

Last Sunday the 9th was my 75th birthday. I have been depressed and missing. I have been unable to write. All I was able to do was troll on social media. I just cannot figure out how to act. 

Between being sick for weeks and doctoring thereby, the ongoing mess in DC, and reaching this birthday, I was struck silent. I was so miserable my Muse left for more congenial circumstances. I never expected to live this long given the bipolar insanity. If you want to know what I mean, this video series explains it better than I can. This is the first of a 3 video series.:


I am back. It is clear I am not going to die for awhile, so that is good. Andiamo. Our POTUS is a crook. 

Generally, I ignore Rudy Giuliani. I cannot ignore this:
“Nobody got killed, nobody got robbed… This was not a big crime,” Giuliani told The Daily Beast on Wednesday. He added, sardonically, “I think in two weeks they’ll start with parking tickets that haven’t been paid.”
Yo Rudy, I got robbed of the sane experienced person I voted for being POTUS.

I got robbed of my national pride when my government kidnapped, caged and drugged children and caused them to be raped and/or die in custody. 

I got robbed of my peace of mind and dignity because I am a multiple rape survivor and I have been made to face the rape culture head on by REDpublicans daily and for years now.  Recall 'legitimate rape?' That was 2014. Remember the Republican Rape Advisory Chart?

We nearly got robbed of our Democracy, the system many Americans worked and died for over the centuries. I want to know who the Americans are who have accepted employment in American internment prison camps?

Reading Mark Twain makes me sane and gives me some perspective on the whole mess.:
“The government is merely a servant―merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide who is a patriot and who isn't. Its function is to obey orders, not originate them.” ― Mark Twain
We have a lot more firing to do. Lots more.


Friday, October 5, 2018

Stanley - or - This story has no redeeming social value with Music.

I am single. I am bored because I have nothing and no one to do. One of my Viper Girls told me "Ma, you are not allowed to date anybody without a written permission. It is like you have this sign on your head flashing Weirdos Welcome!" Sadly, this is not unreasonable. 

I met Stanley at a screw-rinse-repeat joint in New York City called The Candy Box. I think it was 1976. Stanley was the bald bespectacled guy telling us he “screwed both bartenders and all the other whoo-ers sitting around on the bar stools." Stanley is still loud, profane and bespectacled as I write. A Caveat Emptor, "Whoo-ers are all no good", delivered in loud Brooklynese has to be experienced to be fully appreciated.

I do not know why exactly, but I took him home. He came with me because I told him I had a pool in my backyard. I think he thought I was lying or nuts. He was right about the nuts.

I always enjoyed Stanley. Stanley and I used to have the greatest fights. He was naturally funny. And he always left me money. He could be generous and stingy at the same moment. We hung out together for twenty five years. We made a porno. We ate at every great Italian restaurant in three states. We fought epic fights. He was mean. Years later I found out he used to stand behind me just out of hearing range and make fun of me to people I knew. Stanley financed every crazy thing I could think up to do. And I am creative. Laissez le bon temps rouler.

Everything was great until I got sober and truthful. One day I said to him

"Stanley, God gave you a package that cannot be beat. Even Ron Jeremy steps back. Nevertheless, you suck in the bed. Now that I am dually diagnosed, I am no longer de-generate and de-praved, and the government gives me $638.25 monthly, I do not have to fuck you. So just pay for the fricking thing and stop that whining."

It was the beginning of the end.

Stanley went and got married. He came to see me even after he got married. For a long  damn time. As a wedding present to him and his bride Angela, I taught him how to eat pussy. I know why I did not teach him sooner. He was always a bit prissy about the physical part of life. All that experience taught Stan nothing. It is kind of a turnoff if a guy is salivating copiously all over you at the critical moment because pussy has germs. I miss him still. I still meet him in my dreams.




Although his career was relatively brief, cut short by a tragic plane crash, Otis Redding was a singer of such commanding stature that to this day he embodies the essence of soul music in its purest form.

His name is synonymous with the term soul, music that arose out of the black experience in America through the transmutation of gospel and rhythm & blues into a form of funky, secular testifying. Redding left behind a legacy of recordings made during the four-year period from his first sessions for Stax/Volt Records in 1963 until his death in 1967. Read more here...

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Halloween Message from GrandMom and PopPop

Do not vote for the Orange Howler. I am repeating this because you did not listen to your Elders last time, it seems. I know - it was the Russians. More reason to vote.