Brain-Addled Rich Guy...

What would you do if you were the richest man in the world?

I certainly wouldn't be wrecking government for the common folk. I wouldn't be destroying agencies and organizations that are working to feed poor children around the globe. That would be fucking evil. I wouldn't be using technology to spy on Americans, or to kick them off Social Security, Medicaid and Medicare.

I'd probably buy a new guitar, actually a really old Martin, and maybe a new pair of boots. And then, find some worthy causes to help make the world a better place for all.  Ha. Maybe that's why I'm not the richest man in the world. 

Funny. The screenshot above is from the NY Times. Seems Mr. Swasticar, one of the richest men on the planet, has been playing that "this is your brain on drugs," thing. No wonder his cars suck, his rockets are exploding, and he and his team were just wrecking our government. Waste, Fraud, Abuse. It's all in his head...

I mean, sure, sex, drugs, r&r. But everything within limits, my friends. That's way to do it. Contrary to William Blake, the road of excess does not always lead to the palace of wisdom. Sometimes you're just out of your freaking, tweaking, mind. Brain-fried.

Don't Play the Fool...

There was a "magic bar" in Chicago once. Doubt that is still there.  I have no clue where it was, it's just a dim memory in a hazy part of my life. A hard Chicago street. A classic tavern. The bartenders did magic tricks with cards. This was a time when my friends and I actually thought sitting in a dark bar, sipping a strong drink, and being "fooled" by a bartender slinging drinks and performing card tricks was fun. The line that was displayed on a plaque behind the bar read: "It's fun to be fooled."

Ha. Maybe so. Although, you know, the dirty little secret you learn along the way: "Fun isn't what it's cracked up to be."

These many years later, I am now in a more clear-headed phase of my existence, the whole fun to be fooled idea seems pointless and maybe a sign of something sinister. Looking around the scene now, it's hard to argue with idea that Human Beings actually want to be fooled, and really, like being lied to. They prefer playing the fool, as opposed to being clear-headed, in touch with reality, with a capacity to accept truth, even cold-hard truths. 

Just take a look at our Politics, Wall Street, Pop Culture, etc. Fools fooling each other for $ & amusement. It's a game, but then, of course, some people really suffer, get scammed, & beaten down. It can be an ugly thing.

Better to be clear-eyed, clear-headed, able to spot the lies, in touch with reality, gravity and truth. It's maybe a bit more difficult. You have to accept limits, you have to be disciplined, you have to acknowledge that you are often wrong, and if you want to be a person of quality, always learning. 

Sure. Embrace curiosity, wonder, astonishment. But don't willingly play the fucking fool...

Happy to be at the Table...

We dined at a Peruvian restaurant last night with a group of quite interesting characters. A famous actress (sorry, won't reveal her identity), a fabulous Peruvian classical guitarist, two shop owners, an architect, & a wealthy woman of distinction. It was quite the collection of distinguished human beings. My partner and I were introduced as leaders of an indie r&r band. The biggest things that set us apart from this little group? We are vegetarians and well, we don't drink alcoholic beverages. Funny. We don't think of those as radical things, but, you know, we often find ourselves out of sync on the food and drink front. Also, rarely do we eat after 7:00 p.m. on a Wednesday night, or any night, really. There was an amazing two member Peruvian band playing instrumental music. A guitarist and a woodwind player, playing various odd-looking pipes and horns. So good. Lively & beautiful. Big plates of seafood, lamb and beef were brought to the table. My partner and I shared a vegetarian plate. It was quite tasty. What did we talk about? Everything under the sun, except Politics and all the ways things seems be devolving. It was fun, lively, interesting. A multi-cultural group of souls. Alive in the moment. There were tales of other cities, Paris, Rio De Janiero, Lima, Las Vegas. These were cultured and intelligent citizens of the world; soul-full, full of love, heart and beauty;  funny, quirky & cool. We were happy to be at the table.

The TACO PREZ...

Wall Street Clocks in...

Funny. The $ people. Not so happy with the Toxic Stain Prez and his wacky tarriff shite.  

TACO. 

Wall Street Mocks Trump with 4 letter code to call bets against him.  What does TACO stand for? 

Trump Always Chickens Out.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Day On/Day Off...

I was "working" yesterday, eventhough it was a holiday. Mainly, "working," for me is just being me, only in a mobile fashion. Walking around the neighborhood, with some furry friends, talking to them, to myself, to imaginary folks, and "real" folks I meet on the path.  Thinking & talking is a big part of my life, "being me." 

I still found plenty of time to goof-off, which is always an essential part of my existence. I played my guitar, working on a new song, and, really, finally it seems to be coming together. It's an interesting, organic process, playing parts over and over again, making little discoveries, incorporating them into the composition, moving things around, until it feels, and sounds, solid.

I also watched one of my favorite movies, "Two-lane Black Top," (1971) by Monte Hellman. I first saw it as a young kid with my Dad. So, you know, it really resonates with me. It's so existential. In the moment. Famous musicians James Taylor and Dennis Wilson play the leads. Plus the great Warren Oates is just astonishingly good. Funny. One of the all-time great endings. Maybe the greatest. I won't reveal it, don't want to spoil it if you haven't seen it.

The neighborhood was alive with families & BBQ's, even though there was a cold breeze coming hard off the lake. The folks just wanted to party & picnic, nothing was going to deter them. Think of the Human Rainbow. Families of every creed & color eating talking, biking, hiking, playing volleyball, throwing frisbees, tossing footballs, etc.

Life. It just goes on. 

I had a long chat on the phone with my partner. She was in New York City for a wedding. She told that me that yes, New York is still amazing. One of the greatest cities ever. Teeming with life. Bigger, bolder, more diverse & inclusive than just about anywhere else in the Universe. She visited some of our favorite places on the planet, MOMA & Central Park. Sure. Tourist kind of things. She assured me that New York was thriving, fabulous, overwhelming. Truly a jewel, and the crowning megalopolis in our teeming Democratic Experiment.

Makes me happy and optimistic. No matter what the Toxic Stain wants to do to our American Dream, I think we are just too big, too diverse, too open, too woke, too fucking intelligent & energetic, to be defeated. Damn the torpedoes...

Stand Up for Something

 

Ok. Yes. Unfortunately, it seems we are getting numb to the madness, the idiocies, the cruelty, the lying, the denial of Truth & Reality. Still, if you want to get to the fundamental essence of this American Experiment, get to the nub of the thing, you land on the idea of No Kings. Supposedly, the Toxic Stain is going to have a military parade the same day. Wouldn't it be absolutely fabulous if millions & millions of us tuned that ridiculous display out and gathered in protests across the land to celebrate Democracy, the Constitution, the Rule of Law, Truth, Justice & the American Way ( a very Woke, totally DEI utopia). You know, that would be totally, fucking, Super, Man...

Being Onto Something...

Being onto something...

Sure. The world is burning. The planet seems to be spinning faster. Catastrophe is always one catastrophe away. But yesterday, for me, it was about being onto something. The day, and time in the day, seemed to be expansive. I had plenty of time for everything: meditating, listening to music, walking, bike riding, to-ing & fro-ing, doing chores, spending time with my furry friend, and my trio of feathered friends. Taking care of bizness, plus, goofing off. I put new strings on my guitar, and continued to work on a new song. And made little break-thru on that front. I do think this song will find wings to fly. And then I met a friend and collaborator at our rehearsal studio. We ran thru old songs we've written together over that last decade or so. We are getting ready to record them in the near future with my garage/punk band. Excavating songs that have sat on the shelf for awhile. I dialed in the new gadget I recently purchased, a tiny, big as a loaf of bread mixer/mult-track recorder. An amazing little gizmo. Hooked up to our powered speakers the sound was beautiful, exquisite, excellent. And between songs, my buddy & I talked about everything under the sun, the moon, the stars. Especially, and deeply about life, love & loss. We both have recently lost people close to us. How to deal with the finality, the deep loss, the guilt, the emptiness? My pithy, but hard-earned recommendation: Being onto something. And yes, at least yesterday, that idea & action worked like a charm.

I Turn to the Inspirers...

I turn to Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Tom Waits, Morphine...

Inspirers all. 

When things look bleak I reach for music. Spin discs all day long. 

And in the evening hours I read books, lately my reading hours have included three novels from Caleb Carr (The Alienist, The Angel of Darkness & The Legend of Broken), and right now I am devouring  Marc Ribot's astonishing book: Unstrung Rants and Stories of a Noise Guitarist.

I also watched a few of my favorite films, from Martin Scorcese (Taxi Driver, Good Fellas), Jim Jarmuch (Coffee & Cigarettes, Stranger in Paradise, Paterson, Down by Law), and Dennis Hopper (Easy Rider). Older films that make up my own personal mythology. These movies are embedded deep in my consciousness.

What do all these filmmakers, musical artists and writers have in common? Fiery intellegence, amazing creativity, spiky, hard, brilliant, open-armed & open-headed. Uncompromising. I notice everyone of these folks are Americans. American born & bred originals. They are part my own real America. It's a much better place to live in.

I also have been working on a new song. It started easy, pure inspiration, and then, it kind of drifted, not quite there, not quite finished. So, I have played it in various modes. The lyrics are finished but the musical accompaniment has morphed. A work in progress.

I purchased a new gadget. A little mixer and multi-track recorder. Kind of a going back to basics mode. I love getting lost in a creative project, it is a mission and a journey. Keeps my head clear. Essential work. A good way to fill my days. Music. Words. A humanity of heart and resistance. An antidote to the  absolute shit unfolding in Washington D.C. My vision of America is so much better than this toxic nightmare they are trying to impose on us. Fuck them. Damn the torpedoes.

Just the Facts...

Kakistocracy - "government by the worst, least qualified, or most unscrupulous people."

Yes. That is the perfect word for the current Republican Administration. It's the the trifecta of bad: worst, least qualified, most unscrupulous.

If you are paying attention, and I realize many of you are not, and yes, I get it, it's sort understandable, paying attention requires a bit of discipline, or bloody-minded-ness, and it's also fucking painful. To watch your fellow human beings acting so recklessly, so cruelly, so corruptly, so fucking ignorantly is corrosive and debilitating.

What to say?! Yikes. Fuck. The Republican Party is a scourge, a blight, a plague, a black-hole of racism, cruelty, idiocy, fear & greed. That political party holds all the levers of power at the moment, and they are destroying our country. 

I am not over-stating the case. Just the facts. Everything we hold dear about America is under attack. It's an amazing display, an abomination. So bad, it's fucking ridiculous.

The New Hell...

Folk #1: You know. It feels like a test. I always hated tests. Of course, the test don't care. I just don't think I'm wired for all this New American Nazi/Fascist/Authoritarian shite. It does not sit well with me. I don't know how to digest it. I mean, I can go as dark as you want. I have read lots of novels of dystopia. Still, I feel like a little yellow canary in a deep dark coal-mine. Any little fume and I'm lit. You know I'm the alarm, the warning bell, that tolls when things start getting deadly and ugly. Ugliness and cruelty are the themes of the day. All of this new anti-woke, anti-humane b.s. is so contrary to my vision of the USA. Of course, we have always been a divided country, and there has always been injustice, and inequality, hate & racism. But the level of ignorance, corruption & lies has multiplied beyond comprehension & swamped over us all. Seems we are a broken nation, collapsing, teetering, devolving into a pure, cruel, senseless, idiotic, chaos. Who to blame? All of us. We have all failed. No doubt. We have royally fucked ourselves over. Of course, I never voted for this shite. Most of the folks I know didn't either. We are the opposition, the resistance, the folks who say: "We are against it." It's, of course, not enough. The atrocities roll out every damn day. And the lies, the outrageous, confounding river of lies just flows, and flows, and flows. It is a certain vision of Hell. No doubt.

Faith...

Folk #1: A dream. Should I tell you?

Folk #2: Sure

Folk #1: You won't get bored?

Folk #2: Well, maybe.

Folk #1: I lost my Faith. It was an App on my iPhone.

Folk #2: Ha.

Folk #1: I accidentally deleted it. It freaked me out.

Folk #2: What did you do?

Folk #1: Frantically searched the App store. No luck.

Folk #2: Yikes.

Folk #1: I felt adrift. Empty. No Faith. Faith-less.

Folk #2: Ah... well, what's Faith anyway?

Folk #1: I looked it up: "Complete trust & confidence in someone or something."

Folk #2: Yeah, well, I can see that, no Faith, no trust, no confidence. 

Folk: #1: Yeah. Right?!

Folk: #2: What did you do?

Folk #1: I got up early made the coffee.

Folk #2: Faith. It's in the cup.

Folk #1: Exactly. Ha!

The Grind...

Folk #1: The fucking grind.

Folk #2: Hmmm...?

Folk #1: I'm not talking coffee. It's the constant lying. It's fucking wearing me out. You know, the injustice. The unlawful bullshit, the daily outrages, and then the lying. They lie about every last fucking thing. 

Folk #2: It's hard to take.

Folk #1: Yep. Soul-killing. Corrosive. Disheartening. Disabling.

Folk #2: Exhausting.

Folk #1: You hate to see the Evil-doers just lording around, lying their asses off.

Folk #2: A good way to kill a beautiful country.

Folk #1: My only hope, reality rears it's head, and the whole thing crashes.

Folk #2: Yikes.

Folk #1: Yes. It's true, cheering on some kind of Apocalypse Now. To live in a cruel & unjust country is just so ugly.

Folk #2: The Horror. The Horror.

Folk #1: Like Dylan, I'm just "praying the pieces don't fall on me..."  Yikes. The goal now? To outlive these motherfuckers.

Folk #2: Living well, our best revenge?! Ha!

The Republicans, Cruel, Sadistic Zombies...

Paul Krugman, as usual, is on point: Attack of the Sadistic Zombies. Who are the Sadistic Zombies? The Republicans, and their dead-wrong, zombie ideas.

Can it possibly be true, that the Republicans are going to pass a budget that takes healthcare from the poor and gives tax breaks to the rich? Really?! In this age of stark income inequality? Yikes. Sadistic Zombies, no doubt. And the cruelty is the point.

Don't worry, read it and weep. Krugman has the facts, the charts and the truth on his side. Best lines of the piece are right here:

"But in that case, why the cruelty toward less-fortunate Americans? Well, as I see it the cruelty, as opposed to the dollars saved, is actually the point. Inflicting harm on the vulnerable isn’t something they do with regret, it’s something they do with a sense of satisfaction."

Governed by cruel, sadistic, zombies & bullies. Welcome to Terror-Dome USA.

A Passing Fancy...

Folk #1: Down in the dumps?

Folk #2: Ah... just zoning out on the impermanence of all things.

Folk #1: That's a bit heady.

Folk #2: Events, big & small, conspired to send me down a rabbit hole.

Folk #1: Life. It's tricky.

Folk #2: Of course, even the zoning out is a temporary condition.

Folk #1: "This too shall pass."

Folk #2:  Living; it's a passing fancy.

Futile, Useless, Stupid...

Some days you really are Sisyphus. You happily roll that rock up a hill, and you watch as it immediately rolls back down. You can judge the day and say, "That was futile." Or maybe "That was useless." Or maybe, "That was stupid." You count the many ways it was futile, useless & stupid. Still, it was a day in your life, and those days are limited and sort of precious. At least you did the work. You put your shoulder to the task. Sure, maybe it was all pointless & pretty damn unfulfilling, but it was your day, your time. So, you own it. You embrace it. As famous smart guy & philosophical smarty pants, Albert Camus wrote: "One must imagine Sisyphus happy." You may also conclude that happiness isn't really what it's cracked up to be. "Fun" also is sort of a dud, a fail, maybe a dead letter? What is one left with? Words of defiance: Fuck it. Onward. Damn the torpedoes.

The Folks Try to Figure it Out...

Folk #1: Why is everything so stupid?

Folk #2: That's an easy one.

Folk #1: Hmmm... do explain...

Folk #2: It's the hate, the racism, the disinformation, the greed. Shuts down the higher functioning of our human brains.

Folk #1: We have higher functioning?

Folk #2: Well, a few in the Human Herd do. They are still around, but they are swamped by the stupidity, the bad blood, the fire-hose of B.S.

Folk #1: It's amazing we can get thru a day.

Folk #2: True Dat...

Folks Talk Politics...

Folk #1: The Qataris are bribing our President with a $400 million jet.

Folk #2: Wut?!

Folk #1: Those Arab Kings are fluffing the U.S. Wanna-Be King.

Folk #2: You're joking?

Folk #1: Nope.

Folk #2: That can't be legal, or constitutional?

Folk #1: Nope.

Folk #2: What's gonna happen?

Folk #1: The Republicans in Congress are going to distract us by cutting taxes for Billionaires and taking food and healthcare away from the Common Folks.

Folk #2: Jesus. That's pretty evil.

Folk #1: Yep.

Folk #2: Is he dead yet?!

Folk #1: Nope. But maybe one Happy Meal from a Coma?

Folk #2: Hope springs Eternal.

Economy of Speech...

Funny. The two Folks in Folksville have started a movement. Their morning mantra, and simple question: "Is he dead yet?!" Has been floated out into the neighborhood, and has now prospered, multiplied & bounced back to them like a boomerang.

The Folks could be riding their bikes down the avenue heading to their next appointment, and a Folk standing on the street corner sees them & shouts with a knowing grin: "Is he dead yet?!"  

Or out on the path, a passing Folk repeats the question and walks on with a smile pasted on their satisfied face. Oh my. It's all happening. 

The quesiton cuts to the bone. It saves brain cells. It bypasses all those tortured conversations about all the shite that is going down.

Maybe the Folks have tapped into a vast Collective Unconscious? The power of positive questioning.  Funny Dat.

The State of Things at the Moment...

Mariachi Music Wafting Over the Grasses & Stones...

"I hear Mariachi music in the cemetery..."

Sounds like a stray line from a forgotten Warren Zevon song. We spent part of Mother's Day 2025 at the cemetery communing with the beloved dead. We weren't alone. It was a celebration. Folks came out in force with lawn chairs, blankets, coolers. Families, primarily Mexican-Americans; the young, the old, the working middle-aged too. 

My partner and I we were there. Paying our respects to loved ones, long passed on. Silently meditating. Sitting under our favorite tree. It was a gorgeous, blue-sky day. All was greenery & light. There was a joyous vibe in the air. Yes. A Mariachi band entertained us all. Horns, guitars, violins, drums. They were decked out in black & gold suits, with hats & boots.

The music was sublime. The male voices singing songs that sounded like history. We didn't know what the songs were about, but the vibe was joy, beauty, & soul. It was surprising. Stunning. A total celebration. The Living & the Dead together. Families. Generations. A long line of human beings in touch with, and honoring, their Ancestors.

It was extraordinary. Beautiful. Set the vibe for the rest of the day. Yes. Magnificent. Real & surreal too. Reminded us of the real America that we love; inclusive, joyous, generous, diverse. So much better than the current soul-less, cruel, mind-numbing, bullshit, Nazi-version.

Folk Convo...

Folk #1: Things are bad.

Folk #2: Horrible.

Folk #1: Gonna get worse.

Folk #2:  Yes. 

Folk #1: It is what it is.

Folk #2: It ain't what it used to be.

Folk #2: If I could forget half of what I remember, I'd be happier.

Folk #1: If I could remember half of all I forgot, I'd be smarter.

Yo-Yo-Ville..

The Folks clock in on Yo-Yo-ville...

Folk #1: You are like a god-damned Yo-Yo.

Folk #2: Yes. Day-glo, Glow in the Dark, a complete Yo-Yo. 

Folk #1: Funny.

Folk #2: Running on a little string, up down & around the world.

Folk #1: Ha.

Folk #2: Yes. It's true. Can't help it. I think I was just drawn that way.

A New Woke Pope. Amen, Brothers & Sisters...

The Folks in Folkville are so happy. A new, woke Pope.

The Folks are quite a distance physically, philosophically, & psychologically from Pope-Land, they no longer "practice" Catholicism, still, that old creed is infused in their bones, (sin, judgement, guilt, love, forgiveness, suffering), and they know the Pope is still a quite influential force in the world.

A new Pope. A Woke Pope. A "Marxist" (retrograde forces accuse anyone caring for the poor as Marxist, quite hilarious). An anti-MAGA Pope. An anti-Trump Pope. An anti-J.D. Vance Pope. The crazy-ass-right-wingers are all in furious tizzy.

A pro-refugee Pope. A pro-compassion Pope, a pro-empathy Pope.  A pro-immigrent & human rights Pope. Amen, brothers & sisters.

Born in Chicago too. That is quite something. Supposedly a Chicago White Sox fan, not a Chicago Cubs fan. That is Good News too. Pope Leo XIV child of the City of Big Shoulders & proudly Woke, baby!

"The new Pope Leo XIV greeted the world today in Italian and Spanish as he thanked Pope Francis and the other cardinals, and called for the church to “be a missionary Church, building bridges, dialogue, always open to receiving with open arms for everyone…, open to all, to all who need our charity, our presence, dialogue, love…, especially to those who are suffering.”

A Reason to Believe...

Yes. Back to the Folks in another time and place.

Folk #1: "Is it going to be a happy ending?"

tick... tick... tick...

Folk #2: "Well... hmmm... I... don't... ah... I mean... well... sure... why not?" 

Folk #1: "You think so?"

Folks #2: "Ah... sure... Yes. We have to believe we're gonna make it. Live a good life, be happy."

Folk #1: "We have to outlive those corrupt motherfuckers."

Folk #2: "Yes. That's a good way of putting it. We surely do. Let's go with that..."

It is Really This Simple...

 

Cut thru the B.S. It really is this simple. We all  (every human being), have the right to "due process," under our Constitution.

The Constitution states only one command twice. The Fifth Amendment says to the federal government that no one shall be "deprived of life, liberty or property without due process of law." The Fourteenth Amendment , ratified in 1868, uses the same eleven words, called the Due Process Clause, to describe a legal obligation of all states. 

Clear as a bell. Any arguments against are total B.S.

Folk Rituals...

In a time and a land far away, two folks live in a small village. They have known each other many, many years. They speak mainly with silent looks, and gestures, and sometimes, a few choice words. The words are often a sort of code. Long trains of thought are distilled to their basic essence. Their new daily ritual, upon awaking, is always a halting, meaningful, and somewhat hopeful question: "Is he dead yet?"

No, it's Both Dark & Light...

"The World is a Dark place."

That stray line floated into my consciousness last night as I slept. Funny. This morning, sipping my coffee, typing into this Chromebook, I wonder: "Where did that come from?"

Did it bubble up from my subconscious mind? Or did it float into my head from some external source? Who knows? Maybe chalk it up to the mysteries of a life.

I actually believe that the line is inadequate, too simplistic, & one-dimensional. I believe that the world is both a Dark & a Light place. The world is the Dance of Darkness & Light. We are fixed in the middle, jumping between the shadows and the light-beams.

We must acknowledge & take in the darkness: as Paul Simon sings - "Hello Darkness my old friend..." But I think we must also do our best to lean to, and to thrive, in the Light.

That's the little game.

As if it's the Most Important Thing in the World...

Fields of Futility. That is the bane of my existence. The nagging thought that is always lurking on the periphery of my consciousness, that everything I do is crucified on a grand cross & spectrum of futility. From the totally pointless, fruitless, witless; to the mildy "not important" or impactful.

How to deal with it? Just ignore it, and plow forward. Best answer to that sense of futileness? Fuck it.

For instance, yesterday, after a fabulous lunch at one of favorite restaurants, my co-conspirator and I gathered our instruments, a boudhran and a borrowed Martin guitar, set up our little digital recorder, splayed out on an Oriental rug in a grand hallway of a magnificent mansion, and worked on two new songs.

We applied ourselves to the task at hand as if it was the most important thing in the world. You know we were fully alive, in the center of the Universe, doing the great and essential work. Of course, we did also know that what we were doing wasn't really all the important or earth-shaking. It's just a trick of the mind, don't you know?!

But if felt great. Everything else, all the shite of the world around us, fell away. We got lost in the moments of singing & playing. It was a blast, and quite satisfying. Two songs are fighting to emerge. It's always a cool process. Sort of amazing. Sometimes you wonder where and how these little creative bubbles emerge. They seem to descend upon us from the skies.

It was a great way to spend the late afternoon. Healing, soul-enriching. Damn the torpedoes.

Three Chords and the Approximation of Personal Truth...

Some days you really do feel like Shakespeare's King Lear, you find yourself shouting, raging & spitting into the wind.  Some days, Fate, or the Fates seem like your enemy. You are out-manned, out-gunned, on the "outs" with the finer things in life. 

What to do?!

I turn to my guitar, or maybe, a borrowed guitar, tune it up, and flail away. It's a bit of therapy, and a creative journey. I find that riffs and songs can just pop up in a flash. If you wait for inspiration, you can wait forever. Funny. The shouting, the raging, the spitting can be channeled.

It has often been in my lowest of low moments where a song emerges. I have learned that it is the pain I am experiencing, maybe the pain of the world, that often acts as a spur to my creative self. Yesterday I bashed away on a chord progression, and scratched out some words on paper. I turned the little digital recorder on, and gave it a whirl. Listening back, I think I hear a song demanding to come into being.

It's a process. A mission. A small thing. A way of dealing with the alienation I am feeling. Yes. Feeling totally dislocated from the shite raining down on us here in USA. Three chords (ok, actually, in this particular instance,  a cool riff & 4 chords),  and the approximation of personal truth. That's how it's done. Getting along, going along, without losing my freaking mind, keeping my head in the game. Damn the torpedoes. 

Lady Liberty in a Chokehold...

 

This was definitely the best "sign" at the May 1 rally in our sleepy little town. Actually an amazing masterwork, probably should  be hung up over at the Art Institute of Chicago. Pretty sure that is the artist clinging to the side. Don't know his name. He wheeled that piece down the sidewalk and the crowds parted to welcome him into the circle of protesters.

Lady Liberty under assault, in a chokehold, hanging onto her life by a thread. Yes. "Stop Comarde Traitor Trump" that was the grand theme of the rally. A smaller crowd this time, May Day came on a Thursday, so you know, most of the working folks missed out. We did our usual manual labor earlier in the day, and rode our bikes over to the plaza.

There were chants, songs, speeches. The natives are definintely restless. Everyone seemed to be tracking with the latest outrages leaking out of Washington D.C. We all want it to stop, but, right now, all we can do is shout & clap, and express our extremely-deep displeasure with the way this shite is going down. Fuck.

Against it, Whole-heartedly...

The Trump Agenda?! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

Strongly against. In opposition. In resistance. Unhappy. Discontented. Pissed off. Gnarly. Outraged. Recalcitrant. Protesting. Marching. Making signs. Speaking up. Dreaming up a new way & a new day.

We can do so much better, and we must...

Best to Worst...