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Tuesday, December 26, 2023
Lament
Wednesday, October 11, 2023
A New Cottage Industry
There's a new evil brewing in the greatest country in the world; don't pretend ignorance, for you know exactly the country I am referring to: the country that sends its boys to war around the world and call them heroes, offer them parades and a whole day out of the year to celebrate them.
A special day where the citizens of this magnificent country can enjoy a day of leisure and drive to the beach, to the mall; on the way there, at the traffic lights and sidewalks they can see the parade of veterans: missing limbs, hunted by ghosts and demons, begging for scraps and living in tents.
A few romantic souls, still linger to the story they were sold and beg for money dressed in the uniform they used to fight the wars that provided us the freedom to walk the street as free people.
The country I am referring to has created agencies to protect its citizens and assure their safety; agencies such as the DIABETES FOUNDATION that links diabetes to fat consumption and advise the public that sugar in moderation is healthy; and the American Society for Nutrition and National Institute of Health that advises the public that there are no links between obesity, high calorie consumption and lack of exercise. It is all genetic and therefore only managed by prescribed drug use. For life.
Coincidentally, this particular country gain billions of its revenues in two primary sources of income: the military and its pharmaceutical/health industry. And now, they have invented a new evil way to profit from its citizens: compassion.
Politicians, known worldwide for their empathy and devoting service to the people, have began a campaign to "house" mentally ill people for up to an entire year while they are tested and treated for their illness.
We have to hand it to the pharmaceuticals companies creative way to acquire new customers.
The new evil, as it turns out, it's nothing new: the executives of pharmaceuticals companies and their lobbyists have aimed their sights at the homeless, as they finally see a new way to profit from them. Politicians have began singing their song of empathy, while other politicians appeal to the self centered selfish among us and talk about "cleaning the streets."
Pretty soon, to our joy and delight, our streets will be cleaned and safe once again. A few voices will rise in the defense of the unhoused but it will be muffled by our silence , as we drive to the beach and the mall and the clubs and restaurants and the tourist destinations.
As we go on with our lives, ignoring the sufferers as we do now.
On the sidewalk of this great country there will be signs that read: " This clean sidewalk was brought to you by GSK, Pfizer, Johnson & Johnson, etc.."
And this will be the great experiment of our lifetime as they open hospitals around this great country and harness their skills on the homeless until they have perfected the art of imprisoning people to test their new drugs. And make a profit for their investors.
Once they are done with the homeless, they will come for our families, as they did in the 40's and 50's and 60's. Our children, fathers and mothers. A full circle indeed.
A clown's perspective: " When the business people and politicians find a way to profit from the homeless you will see the streets of America clean up real goddamn fast. I guarantee you that." George Carlin
Monday, October 9, 2023
Gliders and Sufferers
Only God can make a tree, but I can make trouble. I can hurt my fellow men and be content within myself; for getting my way, above his, hers and they be denied; because it is in my nature to do so. Am I created in His image? Has God bestowed his disdain to His creatures as we disdain ourselves daily.?
In the cities of this world there are only two kind: sufferers and gliders; gliders being the ones that take to the city in enjoyment as his fellow men perish. And with the help of the ones and the zeros, display to the world to see. And envy.
A sure sign of a malady within is the pleasure to display as others suffer; but here I am also at fault, because the gliders suffer too: an existence is long enough for creatures to understand how weak, perishable and transient we all are. Every social media display is a desperate cry for help.
" Am I alone." "Do you feel my pain?" Can you for the time being enjoy my material things and make me feel happy and complete? Can you see me? But not in the way I see myself. Can you see me with envy, with desire, for it is through your eyes and likes that I can briefly feel enough; that I can feel that my existence is not in vain.
In a world where many profess the existence and the love of God Almighty for us, it begs the questions: why is that love not enough? Why must we search for likes and recognition in social sites?
Surrounded by my family; while others have none. Surrounded by my beautiful friends; while others are alone. Surrounded by the fabric and materials of this Tesla; while besides me, at this traffic light in West Hollywood tents line up one after another on the sidewalk. Tents, trash and flies is all there is now. For the humans that surround it go unnoticed; unless they make themselves noticeable; to our despair.
Nothing, not even the pain I feel when I think of my mother, can hurt as much as the sight of another mother, or a father - I've seen them both - on a street corner, by a traffic light, begging for money; with signs that read:
" Need money for food." " Need money for rent."
While CHILDREN as young as 4 years old sit by their side with an expression I have yet to understand. Or perhaps I chose not to as I try daily to forget all the memories I have of my mother spending her only existence inside a mental hospital so that well educated men could afford their vacation homes, automobiles and their social status. Prescribing electric shock treatments to the depressed until they are no longer there. Branding their children like cattle; for life.
And that it is; the hypocrisy of it all. As my beloved grandmother would say: " when you point your finger at someone, three other fingers are pointing at you." We all display what we have for the world to see; in communion. It is the only way we have not to feel so alone.
You display your things: families, friends and beautiful possessions. The rest of us display our pain. We are all beggars in this world, trading for love, understanding, acceptance. For pity.
And so, as in Your Lord's Prayer, we too beg. Not to be forgotten. Not to die.
Sunday, September 3, 2023
MOVIE STAR or someone like you and me.
So I’ve decided to change, to shed my proverbial skin and find myself; somehow. And that is what’s crazy and sad: I know that I’m in here and not out there; somewhere.
Saturday, July 22, 2023
The Anatomy of a Kiss
On the face of a girl, any girl, there is a protruding bone medical books erroneously named the zygomatic bone; a revision to this lack of romanticism is needed.
The kissing bone is where an astute boy places his thumb to kiss a girl, his other four fingers should touch the back of her neck gently, and as he leans in for a kiss, presses a bit harder.
His fingers on the back of her neck exert just enough pressure that she feels all fingers against her skin throughout the kiss. When the kissing is over, the girl, if the boy has done exactly what was described above, will move her head back to look at his face, and as she does, his fingers on the back of her neck should feel like a light gentle breeze, breaking on the skin like waves.
Of course, there is the consideration of proper hygiene, and by that I mean, clean hands. If a girl is about to kiss a boy and he realizes his hands are unclean, a different protocol takes place .
The boy must then place his hands firmly on her shoulders, that, however, is an extremely delicate place since the shoulders are so close to her breasts.
A boy with dirty hands then needs to squeeze her shoulders hard enough so that she feels all his fingers on her shoulders throughout the kiss, because you see, a kiss has nothing to do with lips touching lips; but where a hand is placed.
The first milliseconds of a kiss is when the girl determines whether or not she will enjoy kissing you. Kiss her in that manner and she will feel safe and lean into your kiss; allow your hands to be free and she will spend the entire kiss wondering where your hands will land.
A boy who thinks a girl wants to be touched in as many body parts as possible during a kiss is a fool.
A girl who wants to be touched in as many body parts as possible during a kiss has already been kissed enough; you will waste a good kiss on the wrong girl.
Everything that matters in this world takes time and requires skill.
A kiss is an antidote to a hurried life. In a kiss you can bend and shape time, slow it down, disconnect from the physical world, and fly for a bit. Your hands, will determine how high you fly or if you take off at all.
Every girl in the world has a kissing bone and the memory of a kiss, a light gentle breeze she craves in her fingertips.
If you've ever seen a girl lost in thought, running her fingers on the back of her neck; she's remembering a kiss.
Tuesday, May 16, 2023
BLUE MOON and the world inside
Tuesday, March 14, 2023
The Children in Each of Us.
I recognize myself on the face of lost children; sad children, with eyes that beg an answer to unanswerable questions: why am I here? Where are you, mother? Why did you leave me here so alone? I am two years old, four, five, ten, twelve, fifty-seven. The questions are still there reverberating through the years but now I am certain there isn't an answer; or maybe there is, but it is not what I expected.
There is no rhyme or reason for anything that happens to us except for the magical explanations we created to try to make this life bearable. Desperate to feel nothing disturbing, others of my kind invented positive thinking, and they tell me sometimes: " I like to deal with people who are positive." I just smile. "I know" I think, but say nothing in response.
It hurts feeling life to its fullest so they need all the help they can get: alcohol, drugs, sugar, bread, coffee, positivity, visualization, God.
I hear and see and read in comments throughout the fabric of social medias. The "hurting ones" professing God's power and benevolence as the Los Angeles streets fill with tents and trash and homeless people. We have so much in common with the children of the documentary " A House Made of Splinters trying to make sense of their place in the world while every wall surrounding you reminds one of how immense life is. A child needs to be socialized into the common magical narrative of the community he/she/they lives; but orphan children learn only about reality.
I sit in my office in Santa Monica and watch people come and go, so full and certain of themselves, creating their Shangri-las. Some young, some old.
I watch them and I ponder if they believe it will hold for a lifetime; the thin, brittle magic veil of delusion they wear to keep life at bay.
Thursday, January 19, 2023
On the Issue of Social Problems - DRINKING
Monday, September 19, 2022
ART and WRITING
Saturday, April 30, 2022
Castles Within
I’m alone; an alone animal roaming a Covid infested world. My fellow man, although forced to stay home didn’t miss a beat, full speed ahead: angry, selfish, entitled. To what, I ask? To everything. Their space, your space, my space; space itself as they lounge upwards, bored with the mess they made of things down here.
I lounge forward too; searching for myself in memories and places within; for pockets of light I hid, from demons I encountered along the way; demons that gorge on light. Your light, my light, the light of the world itself. With the little light left in me I rebuild an entire world, because my nature demands that of me; it refuses to die.
Dying is easy, but living it’s not hard as the canto goes; just tricky…
Saturday, April 9, 2022
Wednesday, April 7, 2021
For Better or Worse
Saturday, November 28, 2020
Lua Cheia
De vez em quando, na lua cheia, eu encontro meu lugar no mundo; como se meu GPS estivesse em procura e me encontrasse: meus paralelos precisos, coordenadas, latitude e longitude apontando para agora; e eu sinto que não há nada além de mim.
Eu me sinto como uma árvore ou uma montanha sentiria se pudesse sentir, presente em tempo, lugar e propósito. Eu me pergunto se uma árvore ou montanha se sentiria menos, se desejaria mais, se desejaria, como nós, estar em outro lugar, pra fazer o que pode fazer perfeitamente aqui.
De vez em quando, na lua cheia, não refletimos luz; a luz é a fonte interior, e brilha até que mais uma vez nos esquecemos de ignorar nosso lugar e tempo. Sem nossa luz interior, tudo que nos resta é nossa ascensão social.
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Grapefruit
Let people copy or photograph your paintings. Destroy the originals.1964 Spring
Yoko touched the shoulder of Leonardo, Cézanne, Van Gough and closed her eyes, vowing to transmit the painting she imagined. "Whenever you feel the urge, paint." -she said.2020 la la land
Friday, January 1, 2016
On the Issue of Social Problems - Immigration
I called one these programs today, only to be told that they have no problem with people like me, who have been here legally for almost two decades. The fault in their argument, however, is that for the first seven and a half years, before I became legal, I was just like all other illegal aliens you will meet anywhere in the country. According to the national chant, both my older children should be referred to as “anchor babies”.