Ha. The Lightness & Hilarity of "Don't Be Here Now."

Folk #1: Just let it go Sisyphus (see previous post). Living my philosophy day to day. Funny how you discover that some of this shite associated with living is not really that hard, you know, it doesn't have to be hard. You actually have agency. Maybe you just let go of the rock? Let it roll down that damn hill? What was so important yesterday, is now so unimportant today. I suppose that's one of the reasons I never got a tattoo. What do I want imprinted on my arm forever? No thing. A blank slate, an open book, a naked arm.

My partner & I were confronted with a glad-handing, faux-friendly, wanna-be sage and wise-man last evening. He engaged us in conversation, friendly-like, but really, it was an assault, a power move, letting us know we were in his domain, and well, we were not quite worthy, we didn't really belong.  It was all conveyed with smiles, and gentle words. He repeated that Ram Dass idea: "Be Here Now," living in the moment, taking one day at a time. We have parroted that same philosophy for years. Coming from our wanna be wise-man, it was so transparently a clown-like put-down. Funny. It just sounded toothless & silly & besides the point. 

The point of no point. 

Once he turned away, a profoundly foolish man, we laughed. Sweet belly laughs came out of us. Not snide or cynical. Pure joyful laughter. I whispered to my partner: "Don't be here now." We fell into a  sweet, sunny pool of laughter. Liberated, released, renewed. Everything fell away, no worries, no enemies, no unfulfilled desires. There was a beautiful, rosy haze around everything and everyone in the room. A bold rosy glow.

I looked it up this morning, wondering if anyone else coined that line? Yes. Indeed. Zen Peacemakers "Don't Be Here Now."   Ha. Right. But, of course, there is no one to follow, no one phiosophy to hold us, or to pin us down. No club to join. No dues to pay. The joy is in the complete letting go. The laughter is a doorway. How easy it is go thru an open door. Alive. Aware. Awake. Being. Day-dreaming. Imagining. Surfing the wave, riding & reading the energy of any room. Watching all the rocks rolling down all the hills. Forever. Watching our fellow human beings spinning, gyrating, colliding, knocking against each other in a long-running tragedy & farce. 

Finding an essential purity of existence. Beyond all that shite. Not a nothingness, no, instead an everything-ness. Embracing it all, but with a very light touch & embrace. Embracing & letting go simultaneously. Joyfully, truly, madly, deeply. No clinging, no needing, no wanting, no grasping, no holding on.  No fighting or hanging on. No fear or desperation. A bold, empty, but incredibly gorgeous clarity.

Yes. So, so very funny, yes, and so, so very good.

Pushing that R&R Up the Hill...

Folk #1: Pushing that rock & roll up a hill like a modern-day Sisyphus...

The above line reflects an uneasy sense of futility that often hangs over some of the things I do with my time on the planet. That rock & roll will also tumble down the hill, & I will watch it with a feeling of deep helplessness. Sure, that sense of futility & helplessness will pass, I have learned that my feelings are not final, but sometimes the bad juju can overwhelm me in the cold light of the morning.

I am one of those human beings who want to create amazing, beautiful, powerful things. Mainly through music & lyrics, but also in my daily interactions with other humans. Living a life with meaning; mind, body, spirit aligned. I know it is all just up to me, plus opening the door to inspiration from all corners & comers. Committing to my own private preoccupations with all the attention, dedication and creativity I can muster, knowing that everything I do has limits. Delusions of grandeur?  Ha. I am well-aware that I am a flawed, quirky, imperfect being doing my best to be the best version of myself I can be. My imagination may exceed my actual reach, and I suppose that's fucking obvious.

What to do? Fall back on clear-seeing, knowing that reality is a hard teacher, acknowledging that shit just happens & intervenes at inconvenient times. Still, despite everything, "damn the torpedoes," & gathering up my energy, using those hard realities as rocket fuel for the next song, project, human interaction & moment. Oh, yeah, sometimes reaching out to sublime transcendance. Yes. that happens too sometimes.

Headspace Clear...

Folk #1: We have been doing a better job at "clearing the head-space." How to do it? Chill out in the secret garden. Watch the trees swaying in the wind, under a vast, hovering blue sky, big puffy clouds rolling overheard, and the hummingbirds dancing over, & around the flowers. Listening to the cicadas singing; a love song, a death song, a song of worship, a cry for help, a prayer to the great "Whats-It?" Hard to know. Lots of flapping & flying, and flopping, death throes, on the ground. The squirrels & rabbits rooting around, and munching, on the delicacies of a green lawn. Dragonflies, incredible, multi-winged, little entities, buzzing, swooping over us with authority. Long silences from the Humans. We just hit the wall. Nothing to say, no point to make, happy to be breathing. One of us floating. One of us sitting like an empty Buddha. Sometimes, no reason to dwell, to sink, to fall, to delve into anything, instead, ride the wave, skim the surface, skate the day. A determined shallowness abides. Pure existence. It's good. A brief jump into a different, much less hectic timeline. A retreat into a oddly timeless zone. The day elongates. A numb clarity emerges from the chillness. Good medicine & a new, required, discipline.

Ha. He's Not the Only Insane & Insanely Dangerous One...

Folk #1: I probably will go to see the movie. But, of course, I don't need to see the movie to know that this grossly-wealthy man is insane, super-racist and totally dangerous to Democracy & Freedom. Read his posts on X if you dare dip into a toxic pool of B.S. & Shite. All one needs to do is witness & pay attention to the day to day details of the toxic idiocy dribbling out of this tech-bro clown. Also, of course, Musk isn't the only insanely powerful one lording over us. Time for a reset, a Revolution in the Head, the common ones need to step up, and reassert their agency. Every frigging billionaire/trillionaire is a policy failure. Tax the rich! A reckoning for the Epstein Class is long overdue. Going after their money is the most direct action we can take. Also, of course, let's see what other crimes they have committed that need a just accounting. The day for a new policy is here now. Yes. Let's name the next new era: The Days of Reckoning. Viva la Revolution!

Sometimes a Great Notion...

Folk #1: Sometimes Shit Just Happens. Right? Maybe there is no greater, or deeper, lesson to be learned, beyond, well, Sometimes Shit Just happens. I mean, you are free to come up with reasons & theories, but maybe your reasons & theories are not really all that important, or on the money? You tell yourself a story, you try to process the shit, still, maybe the shit is just the shit? Maybe that is the lesson? You are left to deal with it however you can. You don't have to own that shit, or descend into a deep existential crisis over it, just acknowledge it, and then, carry on. Sure, you can tell yourself "take nothing for granted, be aware, alive, aware at all times," but maybe that's just whistling past the graveyard? Shit will still just happen. You move forward, no extra processing required, except, Somtimes Shit Just Happens. Could that simple affirmative recognition be a guidepost, the spark, the hard, spiky, kernal of true wisdom? Who knows?! I mean, you just put that in your kit-bag, Dear Pilgrim, & go forth into the blazing day, or deep-dark night. "Skating away on the thin ice of a new day." Sure, turn to Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull, why not? Insight can come from any corner...

Disperate Not Desperate Thoughts this A.M.

Folk #1: This morning a million fleeting things floating around in my head. "Glonzo" - An incorrect belief or conspiracy theory held by voters that can be exploited by politicians to achieve their goals. vs. "Material Reality"- the physical world and everything in it that we can touch, see, and measure.

There is a major battle playing out at the moment in the USA and the wider world too. Folks driven by "incorrect beliefs" & bat-shit insane conspiracy theories vs. Folks sticking to things they can touch, see & measure. Seems the world is falling apart; truly something is dying. We are watching the death throes. There will be a hard reckoning, and then, folks will rise up, pick up the pieces, and create something new.

You may ask what about Spirit & Mystery? Ask away. Some things are unanswerable...

I am reading "The King in Yellow," by Robert Chambers, from the Pushkin press.  Yes. It's fabulous. Weird, oddball, strange, interlocking tales of conspiracy & madness in it's many forms. Think unreliable narrators left & right.  4 stories, linked by the King in Yellow. Actually I read this book once, and immediately went back to the beginning, and started reading again. Yes. It speaks of today. It is some kind of map & Holy Grail of madness.

I have been listening obsessively to the Japanese instrumental band Mono. Beauty & fire. Harmony & distortion. Powerful and floaty. Hymn to the Immortal Wind  (2009), is probably my favorite at the moment, but everything I have heard by them is quite exceptional, inspirational & magnificent.

Also, still deep into the Bruce Springsteen & the E-Street band catalog too. Songwriting at it's finest. Great r&r. Bruce's character is a bit gnarly & daunting; a conflicted-perfectionist, an inspired & inspiring artist making amazingly beautiful, overwhelmly great records. His obsessions have become my obsessions too. Maybe there is something about a guilt-ridden Catholic boy, wanting to create something great & beautiful, & trying to find his way in a very weird and fucked up world that totally resonates with me?

Reflections on our Orange-Wanna-Be-King. He is the madman who broke the Republican Party. He now is trying to break the USA & the rest of world too. Instead, he, himself, is breaking apart at the seams. And the folks who have followed him are breaking apart too. It is all very ugly, and perilous. But glonzo can only so far. Material Reality will have it's sweet revenge.

Turns out tax cuts, hate, transparent lies, AI-slop, & gutter-racism are bankrupt, pernicious ideas & phenonmena that have hard limits. No way to run a country. How does any of this shit work for the people?! Well, it really doesn't.

Anyway, for some insight on madness, the downfall, and glonzo on steroids, check out the the Yellow King. Surprisingly, despite all the hurly-burly, feeling pretty optimistic & hopeful this morning. Maybe a form of my own particular madness? Who knows?! Maybe it's just the coffee?! Yes. The coffee is good, indeed.

Corruption is a Process...

Folk #1: Brilliant insight from Emptywheel: "Corruption is a Process..." This Trump character is corruption personified. Anyone who engages with him, works for him, interacts with him, is stained, diminished, & corrupted too. There is no easy way to deal with him. Shine the Light of Truth. Stand Apart. Call him out. Shun, Banish, & Imprison him? Anything short of that risks contamination. Any society, any political party, any culture, or country, that embraces or tolerates the man is fatally corrupted too. We are living in deep corruption now. Sometimes you want to laugh, but it's not really funny, or cry, but tears have no agency. This is a deadly game we are playing. So, so ugly. If there is a change of course, starting with the Mid-term elections, we will need a total cleanse & reboot. A Truth & Reconciliation Committee devoted to bringing the corruption to an end, and a spiky, gnarly righteous, Justice for all.

A Teacher & Taskmaster...

Folk #1: A bit at a loss for words this morning. Rare for me. So, feeling my way forward cautiously, one word at a time. I awoke with this thought: "Reality is a hard teacher & a relentless, unforgiving task master." No matter who you are, or where you come from, you will have to face the music & grapple with reality. You know, even if you don't believe in it. Some of us are really great at denial, evasion, distraction, out-right insubordination against the real. There are vast empires, and fortunes built upon conjuring up, and selling, alternate worlds & fantasties. Still, dues must be paid. There are some things you just can't fabulate or wish away. Of course, some folks will fabulate & wish away til their last dying breath. They are total fools. No way to conduct a life. Best to adjust, morph, evolve, recalibrate, rethink, remake yourself when reality rears up in all it's mighty, gnarly, unforgiving, glory.

Sometimes You Tune Out the Dystopia and Have a Pool Party!

Folk #1: My partner & I are probably too politically aware, and engaged, which means lots of awareness of, wallowing in, and worrying about, the on-going shit-show, the horriyfing fascist dystopia looming over us all. Both of us are also super-aware of the Clmate Catastrophe threatening all life on the planet. Heady stuff. We often write about these things in our songs. It's kind of a heavy burden we live with every day; it's in our kit-bag of being fully, super-woke.

Still, we do try to manage our head-space, try to find other things to occupy, entertain & divert us. Yesterday in our neck of the woods, the weather was absolutely perfect, a long, meandering, summer day. We made our appointed rounds earlier in the day, and then in the afternoon, we escaped to our little secret garden at the lakefront mansion we are "care-taking."

We had a full-blown pool party, which mainly meant cold drinks, (non-alcoholic),  my partner floating around on a "floaty," in a gorgeous backyard pool, while I played DJ. I was spinning CD's on a kick-ass little Sony boombox. Tiny speakers, massive sound. How do they make such great music players? It was all quite exquisite. Loafing, goofing off, chilling out; it turns out these things are essential. 

What was the playlist? Bruce Springsteen & the E-Street Band. We had recently re-purchased much of his back catalog. The albums sound better than ever, the music mastered by the great mastering engineer, Bob Ludwig (now retired). It's true the CD quality has gotten so much better, these little silver discs rival and probably, pretty much match, the vinyl. Be sure to check out the legendary 1990's Virgin remasters that Ludwig did for the Rolling Stones greatest (r&r Holy Grail), albums too: Beggar's Banquet, Let it Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Get Your Ya, Ya's Out,  Exile on Main Street, Goat's Head Soup, Some Girls. All superb!

So we had a long debate and discussion about all things Springsteen. We both agreed that Bruce's second album is an often over-looked masterpiece: "The Wild, the Innocent, the E-Street Shuffle." (1973). Bruce never made another record quite like it. Different E-Street band: Mad Dog Vini Lopez on drums, and the great David Sancious: piano, organ, sax, mellotron, string arrangements. Jazzy, funky, looser & more groovy than other Bruce bands; soulful r&b, epic, gorgeous vibe, lots of horns (even a tuba!), more swing, less rock, maybe a bit influenced by another New Jersey band, Southside Johnny and Asbury Dukes. A different vision, one that Bruce left behind on his next masterpiece "Born to Run." (1975). I spun both records so we could listen & compare.

So, yeah, we talked about the albums, the recording process, keeping a band together, the ebb & flow of creativity, Bruce's perfectionism & activism, things we are also very deeply-engaged in too. We talked about all of this as if these topics were so very important, the answers, and our lives, depended on getting it all right. It's was like falling into another dimension. It was all so engaging, relaxing, refreshing & renewing. Sure, it was good, so very good, we plan to do it all again soon. Maybe we'll move onto our other favorite Bruce records? You know, those other absolute stone-cold masterpieces: Darkness on the Edge of Town  (1978) & The River (1980)

Yes, we definitely need the time to clear the headspace! And the pool, and the boombox, awaits!

Pretty Damn Good, But, Not Perfect...

Folk #1: Sure, I have big ideas, my creative world is large & teeming with ideas, plans, wide-ranging journeys. That's my headspace. But, in the real, tangible, physical world, my foot-print is pretty small. A friendly little town, a lakefront path, a little community on the fringes of a major U.S. city. My day to day is usually a long, rambling circle thru the hood. A big circle in a small town.

Most of our adventures, for my partner & I, are in the creative realm. We found ourselves in a little cafe on Wednesday night, in room full of songwriters. It was just the two of us, a guitar, a tambourine, two voices, running thru a little history of our own very personal songwriting explorations.

Most of the folks in the audience were accomplished singers, songwriters, poets & musicians. These folks perform all around town, have done so for years & years. They are part of thriving, folkie, singer-songwriter culture in Chicago. It was quite intimidating to play our songs for these folks. Sure, we write songs, but, I think my partner and I feel we don't really belong, or fit, within any particular circle. All of our music seems so personal, hand-made, organic, very much us, but, decidedly quirky, gnarly, spicy, maybe a bit homely.

What was that little cloud hanging in the air of the cafe? Judgement.

We both swallowed our uncertainty and sang with deep conviction and purpose. It was all so, so intimate, folks right up close, taking in every word, & chord. Everything went off quite well, but, still, I had few kerfluffles, miscues, flubs on my fretboard, and in the middle of one song, my guitar went out of tune. Yikes. Chaos rears it's head near & far. For some reason I was playing with a new set of strings, not my usual ones, and I was using a new pick. What was I thinking? Trying always to refine my approach, and do better. 

Shite. I forgot. Everything counts. Every last thing. If you are going to make a change, best to test it out, before bringing it out. Ha. I know, you are probably thinking, "He's actually gonna blame the strings & the pick?" Sure. Why not? Although, I have a feeling it was also the "social distortion," the being aware of a very discerning audience, that distracted me, and contributed to my losing focus. I was playing songs I have played many, many times in every conceivable circumstance imaginable. 

Still, I'd say, we did really good, most our set was performed well, the audience response afterwards was overwhelmingly positive, giving & loving. But we both knew it wasn't perfect. Yesterday, I restrung my guitar with my usual strings, and I ditched the new pick, and went back to an old standby. Details, every last little detail my friend, really can be the difference between the hoped for perfect, and the not so perfect.

Sure, we know we may never actually get to perfect, it's a chimera, but it is the goal, the beckoning promised land that is always dancing just out of reach on the shimmering horizon.

Self-Sabotage > Cascade of Failure...

Folk #1: "Being a good writer." What does that mean? Having something interesting to say? Being direct, and to the point? Flowery language? Using lots of big words? Compelling? Enlightening? I'm not really sure. I just checked yesterday's post. Lots of words. Maybe I need to simplify?

We are in big trouble here in the USA. And it's all a "self-own." We sabotaged ourselves, gladly, stupidly, & enthusiastically. We elected a man at war with the law, the truth, reality, democracy, & common sense. This foolish, super-corrupt idiot and malefactor thinks he can use his will to bully and bend reality. Madness. We are now reaping what we all have sown. It's a full-blown "cascade of failure." You would think everyone would be up in arms, pants on fire, doing everything they could to stop the bleeding immediately. That's not what's happening.

Why is it not happening? Good question. 

USA: Abnormal Psychology Writ Large...

Folk #1: In college I started out as an English Major, and then, when I found the Forsythe Saga too boring & daunting, I switched my Major to Psychology. Sure, I wanted to be a writer, but then, I rationalized that in order to be a good writer, I needed to study Human Beings, I needed to try to understand myself & others; I needed to know how Human Beings thought, & acted out in the world.  Now maybe I would have learned some of that if I would have stuck with The Forsythe Saga, but I was more into Vonnegut, Kerouac, Hunter S. Thompson, JR. Tolkien, Joseph Heller & Charles Bukowski. Fool kid, what did I know?! So, yeah, today, this morning, still a writer, and still a student of Human Psychology and motivations. 

I do think much of our Politics is actually Abnormal Psychology writ large. What to make of Trump and his relationship with the USA? Trump: the Bully, the Ignoramus, the Racist, the Criminal, the Stooge, the Sexual Predator, the Conman, the Coward, the Liar, the Thief, the Fool, the Fake Strongman, the Fat, Super-unhealthy Body, Mind & Spirit? You could not find a worse Human Being to lead a country. WTF?! 

Trump seems to want to punish us all here in the USA. His fans and followers are locked in a Toxic, Unhealthy, Abusive Marriage. And we all are on the sidelines stuck in the middle of the shit too. It makes no sense, and it is no way to live, but many of our fellow Human Beings are actually quite sick. Trump is all about Hate. I think a large pool of Hatred sits at the core of his being. Everything truly is about him, he thinks he is the center of the Universe, and wants everyone else to think so too, so yes, surely, a raging, toxic Narcissist. But funny enough, I believe he actually really hates himself too. He can never be happy or satisfied. It is Hate & Revenge that drives him. And I think that is true of his staunchest followers too. They are Haters willing to burn the world down, because, they too are unfulfilled, unhappy, looking for enemies & culprits who have caused them pain, when it is their own raging illness that drives them. They want to destroy anything and anyone who offers a different take on Life. It's ugly beyond belief. And it is astonishing that we find ourselves locked in the clammy grip of these Hateful Haters. Hopefully, we can move past this shite, and get to a healthier place. But it may get uglier as Trump's grip over us loosens and disintegrates. Dare I say it, Trump's end will not be good for him. The rest us? We will celebrate! Oh, yeah, and we will have to pick our way through the wreckage and the debris, and try to make a new USA, & get a fix, on a better way forward...

Morning of 2 Phrases...

Folk #1: Gliding across social media this morning, I come across 2 short phrases that hit home.

1. "Fomenting Chaos." - Yes, this is a very active impulse at the moment. Chaos Agents Fomenting. The rest us have to step up. Be clear-headed, responsible, and actively push back. Common Sense, Order, Responsibility, Clear-thinking, Active Reistance to the madness. These are the tools to lean on.

2. "An alliance of Hate is quite fragile." - Maybe so? We have seen the alliance of Hate actively wrecking our Democracy, and desecrating our land & common bonds. But the resistance to the Hate is vast and deep. Cracks are forming, the Haters have no loyalty, except to Hatred. It's a double-edged sword. The last stage of Hate? The Haters inevitably turn on eachother. Ugly. But True. The rest us need be prepared to pick up the pieces, and to do the clean-up.

So Damn Woke...

  

Folk #1 to Folk #2: "I am so damn woke, I am woke 1.0, 2.0, 3.0 & 4.0. All rolled into one. I am so damn woke, I can't sleep. Sure. It's a burden & a shame. As The Grateful Dead once sang: 'Wake up to find that you are the eyes of the world.' Or, you know, maybe that Jean Paul Satre idea: 'we are responsible for everything.' So, one very woke person is left with great worries, worrying about the interconnected web of life, worrying about sustainability, and the flourishing of all living things. Heavy shit.  But I can't imagine living any other way. Alive, Aware, Awake to the max. Being for something, and being staunchly against something. Fuck ICE, Fuck Racism, Fuck Trump, Fuck the Fascists, & Fuck the Republicans. Fuck the MAGA Idiots too. OK, yes, I use a lot of bad words, swears, I can't help it, it's the only way forward. This overamped wokeness will not be happy, will not be satisfied, until we totally remake the USA, and fix all of kinds of shit on this planet. We must work together as a thoroughly woke species. Back to common sense, goodness, an embrace of multiculturalism, science, liberalism, human rights, sanity, intelligence, good works, graciousness, kindness, the human melting pot, Truth, Justice, competence,  Democracy, Voting Rights, anti-corruption, a belief in a better day & a better way. These corrupt, incompetent people, must be tried & prosecuted. We need a real cleanse, a reset, & a reboot. All the major institutions need a major overhaul. Revolution in the Head. Woke to the max... The Harder They Come, the Harder They Fall... one & all..."

The Finest of Joyous Kicks...

Folk #1: Slow to write a post this morning. The last few days have been all about doing things. Carrying on. Persevering. Powering thru the days, even if our energy surges & retreats. We performed at a little wine shop, with a beautiful back room, and a dangling chandelier on Friday evening. It was just four of us: bass, violin, guitar, percussion two voices. Very, very intimate setting. The audience right in front of us. Super-friendly crowd. Lots of folks we knew, and many who just discovered our music and band. We were happily surprised by the turnout. You never can tell who is gonna show up. It was an incredibly satisfying show. When everything clicks, there are moments of complete transformation. Everything drops away, you find yourself by losing yourself, fully alive in the moment to moment. It is an incredible expenditure of energy. Exhausting, thrilling, and afterwards, there is an emptiness, a profound hollowness that hangs over and inside of us. I suppose it's just a major clearing, a bold opening, a doorway to the next thing. There is nothing better than that kind of all-consuming performance. The finest of joyous kicks. The only way forward is to find the next opportunty, the next time & place, to do it all again.

Running on a Record of Plague, Pestilence, Endless War & Famine...

Folk #1: So we are hurtling towards the mid-term elections. This will be little experiment. The Republicans are running on a platform of Plague, Pestilence,  Endless War & Famine. Oh yeah, and Bankruptcy, Corruption, Concentration Camps, Murder, Censorship, Fraud, the Epstein Class, Lies, & AI Slop. They are really challenging the loyalty of the MAGA Cult. The question on everyone's mind: Will the MAGA cult eat a Shit Sandwich, and say it's tastes good? Inquiring minds must know...

Bat-shit Insane x Bat-shit Insane = Tragedy...

Folk #1: I hate to harp (hee, hee),  on this Natalie Harp story. But it is truly bat-shit insane, and actually quite serious, like national security catastrophe type serious. One thing I can say about myself, I can see Looney-Tunes from a mile away. Sure. This unfolding story of madness is kind of gobsmacking, and sort of sadly hilarious, but super-serious too. The gatekeeper to the President is clearly a deeply unwell human being. Take one bat-shit crazy human being feeding AI slop & idiocy to another bat-shit crazy human being, one who happens to have one of the most important & powerful jobs on the planet, and well, basically we are all vulnerable, we are all fucked. What does that say about these people? Nothing good. What does that say about a country that would put these people in positions of great power? Nothing good.

Unwell. Very, Very Unwell.

 

Folk #1: Okay, let the outrageous speculation begin. What is the latest crazy-ass controversey unfolding in Washington D.C. at the moment?  Is Natalie Harp Trump's lover? (I know, gross, and seems improbable). Or as some have suggested, his "diaper nurse?" (I know, also really gross). Or a Spy (Maybe a bit more plausible)? Or just an insane woman infatuated with an insane, overstuffed, criminally-inclined, dementia-leaning, Facist, Wanna Be Dictator? (Hmmm, pretty sure that is a yes, no matter what the other evidence points to). I suppose the safe assumption would be All of the Above!

It's hard to tell what the fuck is going on. The more we learn about this woman, and her unhinged relationship with Trump, the weirder & crazier it gets. Unwell. Yes. All parties seem very, very unwell. Welcome to crazy-land. This idiotic Christian devotional shit is off the charts lunacy. As some very astute folks have pointed out, these two folks are also "gutter racists," the lowest of the low, dressed up in Biblical B.S. How did we end up in the clutches of this fucking insanity & ridiculousness? Inquiring minds want to know. Yikes!

Sense & No Sense...

Folk #1: David Byrne of Talking Heads once sang: "Stop Making Sense..." I think he was hoping folks would dig a bit deeper & rely more on using intuition in their daily lives. Made for a good line in a good song, but maybe not the best strategy for better living? Today, so many of us are scratching our confused, over-saturated heads asking: "Can We All Please Make Sense?" The unhinged-ness of our present 24/7 Facist Dystopia is getting more over-amped, crazy-making & unhinged every day. Yikes. Folks can't be this idiotic, simple-minded, deluded, wrong-headed & ridiculous? I mean, can they?!?

The Real Thing...

Folk #1: Working on a new song, one line in the last verse: "Find the Truth inside the Real."  I think it's an essential imperative, which is imperiled in our present circumstances. Too many people recoiling from the real, afraid of the real, in denial of the real. The real happens to be our best teacher; no doubt, the real is a hard-grader, no-nonsense, impossible to bargain with. You have to step up, and get your head around the real. So much of our present unhinged culture is about denying & trying to escape the consequences of the real. It's a fool's game. Sure, one has to adjust, change, morph, evolve, improvise, & deal with adversity, you must admit to yourself that not everything is about you. You aren't a fully-functioning, fully-realized human being if you don't come to terms with the real. The lessons & demands of the real are hard & true. A life honed, shaped, bounded by the real is the real thing.

An Affirmative Alternative...

Folk #1: It was an incredibly hot & muggy Sunday. The air thick, the heat oppressive. A day of rest for us. A long lazy morning, then on our bikes, off to the big art & music fest a mile or so South of our neighborhood. Trekked over to another little Chicago neighborhood famous for being shaggy, baggy, arty, edgy, wildly-diverse, distinctly-bohemian, a bit raw & uncooked. The pavement vibrated with heat. Lots of pageantry on the street, the human tribe exuberantly displayed in every conceivable color and flavor. Young, old, and everything in between. Lots of tattoos, hair in every stage of growth; long, short, coiffed, rolled, cascading, and shambling, hair painted in exotic vibrant, vibrating colors. Folks dressed up and dressed down in flowers & finery, leather & denim, silks and feathers. My partner and I definitely felt right at home, in some ways these are truly our people, our tribe; artists, poets, musicians, street folk, trans-folks, boys & girls, boys with boys, girl with girls, strange birds, odd characters; everyone seemingly very comfortable in their skins, out to see & to be seen, and to hang on the street, check out the music, sample the food, peruse the merch displayed in the vendor booths. A classic Chicago street fair. We pinballed back forth from the East stage to the West stage and back again. We bumped into a few folks we knew, chatted for a bit, then went back to wandering. The music was quite good. We saw two bands fronted by compelling, engaging women. One band was fiery, powerful, the other was dreamy & hazy. Both sounded great. There was a woman walking around with a clipboard reminding folks to register to vote. Otherwise, the fascist dystopia was not mentioned at all. Really, it was the fest itself, the gathering, that put the lie to the fascist agenda that the retro motherfuckers are trying to shove down our throats. Sure. It was a celebration, and an affirmative alternative to the soul-killing shit emanating from Washington D.C. It was good to see that this other America, dare I say, the real America (?),  still really exists, and despite all the manufactured stupidity, prejudice & mayhem, seemingly, amazingly, exuberantly defiantly, thrives! One burly, bearded, joyfully-militant-looking dude, wore a black t-shirt emblazoned with words in bold, white lettering:"They Can't Kill Us All!"

Cheat Code for Better Living...

Folk #1: Yes. So these fools are even destroying our military (see previous post). Appoint drunks, criminals, bad reality TV hosts to important jobs, and well, you will reap what you sow. 

This all got me thinking about  "logistics."  You can think of your own life as a campaign, an operation, a long-running adventure. You need stuff. Best to seek out & purchase top-quality, well-made things. You must pay attention to the details. That is what separates the idiots & dolts from the smart cookies.

All the little details can make your life a heaven or hell. It really comes down to logistics. Simple things can be everything: a bar of soap, well-made boots, a flashlight, a hot shower, loose-fitting pants, a sharp knife, toothbrush/toothpaste, shampoo & conditioner (is it a good hair day?), leather belt, woolen socks, underwear, toilet paper, coffeemaker, coffee-bean grinder, a razor, a good book (learn from others what it means to be human), shaving cream, an excellent pair of headphones, leather jacket, a pair of Levis, t-shirts, a barn jacket, a comb or hairbrush, nutritious food, a jar of peanut butter, coffee mug, Samsung Smart TV (entertaining ourselves is important too), sunglasses, sunscreen, electrolytes, a toaster, Ezekial Bread, some kind of music box: home stereo, turntable, Sony Walkman (always be spinning vinyl & CDs), a bicycle, comfy bed (not too hard, not too soft), fluffy pillow, sleep mask, a reading light, reading glasses (no longer 20/20 vision), iPhone, Chromebook, a vintage guitar, assortment of guitar picks, phosphor bronze guitar strings, capo, guitar tuner, tool box filled with tools, bicycle pump, gaffer's tape, bug repellant, band-aids, Arnica gel, Bio-freeze gel, various braces (knee, ankle, wrist), baby aspirin, iron skillet, wooden spoon.

I mean, hell, this list can go on & on. The more you pay attention, the more you see. A life of things, makes a good thing of one's life...

Cowards. Afraid of Reality...

Folk #1: The signs of America's Decadence & Decline are not subtle. Dementia-Laden, Bulbously-Criminal, Greedily-Corrupt, totally-incompetant President? Yes. That's a fucking hot clue right there. Over-stuffed, prodigiously-fortified, outrageously-expensive Military Machine, unable to provide decent food, toothpaste, tooth-brushes, toilet paper, hot-showers to long-deployed service members on a ship in the Persian Gulf?  Logistics are too woke for these idiots. Ha. Ridiculous. Astonishingly, gob-smackingly mind-numbingly goofy. Hollow, hair-gelled, in-over-their-heads, leaders willing to bald-faced-lie in the cold light of Truth?  Cowards. Whiners. Babies. Afraid of Reality. Every last one of them are the creepiest of creeps & cretins. Hmmm, yes. Pretty much on the nose: Decadence & Decline.  Did everyone get fucking amnesia? What the fuck happened to this country? This is our lovely USA today, riddled with the worst people possible.

Daffy Nutzo-Land...

Folk #1: I have been working under the idea that we all have entered a totally unhinged era. Collectively we have all gone through the looking glass. We are now in Totally Daffy Nutzo-Land. What drove us all insane? Maybe it was the Covid? Maybe it's the phones & social media? Maybe it's the giving up on the Future? Maybe it's the effects of Climate Catastrophe?  Maybe it's that the day to day weather is too hot, too extreme? Maybe too many of us are now on the Planet, and we can all see & hear just how inadequate, flawed, and arbitrary, we all really are? We all seem so afraid, and full of rage & dread? The $ have gone to our heads? We are all looking to cash out, and we are all just crashing out? We have lost the thread of the plot? What to believe? Seems so many of us are just casting about, reaching for straws, totally kooky, crazy, stupid; constantly fabulating crazy-ass alternate worlds? How is it possible that the USA could hand the job of President to a liar, a fool, a criminal, a racist, a sexual predator, a pedophile protector, a brain-mushed idiot? How could a political party stand by and support that man? Total fucking bonkers. Am I painting with too broad a brush? Notice every sentence I write ends with a ? Sure, I mean, I bet there are a few folks just like me, watching the unfolding spectacle, and thinking "This is not the way!" Seems we are the outliers. Out of step with the times. I don't have any secret knowledge, but I am constitutionally not built to follow the herd. I am sure that I am crazy in my own particular way, but, I lean on humility, I gravitate to clarity, I sit back, take a breath, and am totally astounded & gobsmacked, by the actions, thoughts, dreams & aspirations of my fellow human beings. WTF?!

Career-Defining Incident...

 

Folk #1: Yes. This decoy plane story, you know the President hiding in a catering cart, is just so pitch-perfect. Let's say it's "carreer-defining" for this overblown coward, creep, liar, blow-hard, fake-strong-man, & decidedly not so great person. Sometimes it's just one incident, one scene, one snapshot, that captures the whole strange saga. The one indelible thing that sums up a man. THIS IS IT! And it is so freaking hilarious...

History via "Dog-Brained Aristocrats..."

  

Folk #1: You realize, pretty much every day, that reality is a hard teacher. It's complicated, contradictory, weird, strange, baffling, disconcerting, disappointing, darkly-funny. Often you try to match up the pictures in your head with the world around you, and they just don't fucking match up. Then, there are days, when the pictures in your head sync up perfectly. You are then rewarded with the thought: "I'm not totally fucking crazy." Still you have be careful of falling for "confirmation bias," you don't want just stoke your own prejudices, beliefs, values, decisions. You have to be open to facts, evidence, and the wisdom & insights of other voices. You must be willing to change your mind, change your ways. You must adjust, evolve, morph, adapt. You must learn from your mistakes, and dear Lord, you will make mistakes. A change of consciousness can happen in an instant. Change your Mind, change your Life. Humility, Clarity, Clear-thinking, Clear-seeing, these tools, are doorways, passageways, they can be so enlightening & liberating...

Real & Fake, Oh Yeah, Hilarous too...

 This headline is REAL...

This photo is FAKE, but also, TRULY, FREAKING, HILARIOUS...

Eternal Sleuthing...

Folk #1: A Universe of signs & wonders. Trying my best to crack the code. Thinking there is some formula, some equation, some simple sentence, where it all adds up. Maybe a fool's quest? And still, I find myself always on the search, dedicated to an ever morphing & evolving, eternal sleuthing. It's a very funny, strange, odd, way to occupy one's time. Filling one's head with details, facts, scenes, secrets, potions, rituals, & incantations, reading the cards, casting the spells, wondering, always wondering & imagining...

From Hate to Love in One Day...

Folk #1: You can't tell from yesterday's post, but I woke up with the thought: "I hate everything." Let's just say it was an accumulation of factors. Sort of overwhelmed my normally sunny nature. And then, I flashed on the realization that this is a mode that is actually quite familiar to me. 

I do think much of my late childhood, early teen years, and well into my 20's & 30's that "hatred of things," sat easily on my shoulders, and was useful to me. It was just a general hate. Not happy with my lot in life. Edgy, gnarly, quick to be a smart-ass. It gave me purpose. Not the best place to meet the day, but it was there. I used it in my day to day, and I used it in my creative pursuits: writing short stories, poems, plays, and learning & playing guitar. I liked the dark & edgy shit. Yes. As Johnny Rotten once wrote: "Anger is an Energy." You can use hate & anger in useful, non-destructive ways. But of course, it's a double-edged sword too.

Funny. I, by & large, left that behind after lots of work on myself. I became a long-distance runner, I gave up drinking alcohol, I changed my diet, became a vegetarian, I learned meditation, and did "psychic-spiritual work." I had a lots of great relationships with interesting & creative people. I had a few major revelations including a deep insight & understanding of the interconnected nature of all living things. Ha. I lived for inspiration & transformation.

Anyway, yesterday that "hate everything mode," was a way of touching bottom. A starting over. It actually wasn't a bad way to start the day. You can't get any lower than that, the only way forward is "up." Simple things like a good cup of coffee, Neil Young singing & playing on the stereo, a good meal, communing with my best friend, a long, lazy afternoon sitting by a shimmering, gorgeous pool, playing a borrowed Martin guitar, singing all the random cover songs I know. Laughing about all the stupid shit that currently intrudes on our lives.

No sting in the hate. It just sort of evaporated in the air. I found all the things, small & large, that I love. The journey of a day. One day in the life. It was renewing, refreshing, relaxing. We conjured up some new dreams, and a few kooky ideas. Engaged. Diverted. Entertained.

Taking the Initiative...

Folk #1: It's sounds heady, maybe self-absorbed, & a bit improbable, but I find that most of my life has been about "forging my own path." Left to my own devices. I am suspicious of my own idea of "making things happen," but it is true, waiting around for someone else to take me by the hand, lead me to the riverside, just never worked out. Looking back, all the key steps forward came pretty much from my own intiative. This initiative most often came out of an existential crisis, an act of bleak desperation, stultifying boredom, & even, sometimes, great inspiration, excitement & enthusiasm. All of this has been bounded by pretty hard limits. A small foot-print, a circumscribed reach. Maybe most of these limits have been self-imposed? I just don't know. Limit of imagination, limit of intelligence, limit of "talent," limit of organization, limit of finances, limit of understanding the ways of the world.  I have had no great plan. Improvising moment to moment. "If I don't do it, it won't get done." I think this is true of the great & small events in my life. Still, I wonder if really, it's all been a misunderstanding on my own part? Is having "agency" an illusion? And how have I limited myself? How many doors were open, and I just didn't walk through? What were the decisive decisions that sent me down this long, winding, crooked path? Not knowing what I am doing, and still doing it anyway has been rewarding: writing, acting, directing, playing guitar, song-writing, performing with two bands, living creatively and with total commitment, but it has  also been damning: bad decisions, wrong turns, dead-ends, crushing failures. And, still, just fucking carrying on. You know, fuck it, & damn the torpedoes. Maybe not the best code for living a full life. But, it has been my method by choice, or maybe by default?

The Pen MIghtier than the Sword...

 

Folk #1: I have always been a fan of good political cartoons. Cut to the chase. Get to the nub of the situation. Depict simple truths with very few words. What's happening right now?! This is from Bill Bramhall.  Exquisite.

Yes. This low-state is real...

Folk #1: Some days the pricks & kicks, the slings & arrows, come fast & furious. One must be nimble & quick. If one avoids the fatal blow, there is time for reflection, recalibration, & renewal. You assess the damage, attend to the wounds, try to piece together a coherent narrative of what went wrong, and why you have been laid low. You vow to live in the real, so there is no way around it. This low-state is as real as stone, but not a final judgement. All of this can be fuel for your next adventure, your next steps forward. You gather up your energy & wits & venture out once again. No one knows what's next. The not knowing is probably helpful & necessary.

The Very Stupid People are Doing Very Stupid Things...

Folk #1: I don't mind trying to sum up life as it displays itself to me in the moment. I realize any take is partial, probably a bit arbitrary, & certainly kind of reductive. Will my particular take stand up over time? Who knows?! Maybe sometimes there is a certain intelligence baked into the simple?

Fuck. What is going on around here with my fellow Human Beings? 

The Very Stupid People are doing Very Stupid Things. 

Turns out even the People you thought were not Stupid, are in actuality, Quite, Very Stupid. AND, these Very Stupid People are immensely happy, I mean, like fucking over-joyed to Show & Tell the World just how Very Stupid they truly are! They fucking advertise it, and expect you to adore them for being so Very Stupid, and to emulate & follow them down the Rabbit Hole of Being Stupid too!

What is the best response to this Grand Stupidity? Just don't be fucking Stupid...

Losing the War Against Reality...

Folk #1: Ha. Ha. Ha. The Mad-Would-Be-King is at War with Reality. It really is hilarious. I mean, it's hilarious, except there are some real, dire consequences for the rest us. So, you know, it's a special kind of hilarious that also hurts & cuts deep. Funny stuff that is deadly too. Potent. People will die. People will be harassed & arrested, people will be bombarded with lies & idiocy. People will rise up and cry "Uncle!"

So, yeah, a war on reality, near & far.

"Over there," the War in Iran, is not going well for the USA. Not surprising in the least. The stupidest, least capable folks imaginable led us into a certain losing proposition. What does the Would-Be-Mad-King do when he loses a War? Lie. Rant. Pound the table. Demand that everyone see that he actually won. Shite. That is maddening for everyone involved. Not a little thing. Dead people. Lots of them. For no good reason. All those dead soldiers and civilians can't be lied away.

"Over here," the reflecting pool fiasco just keeps spinning out. Our Would-Be-Mad-King is sure there are "reflecting pool vandals" that must be punished. It's all a fucking mirage. The contactor fucked up. It was botch job from the first. A no-bid contract given to another fraud. What is fraud x fraud? More fraud. What happens when the world responds: "There were no reflecting pool vandals, you idiot?" The Would-Be Mad-King lies, rants, pounds the table once again. He demands we all see & hear what he wants us to see & hear. Fuck that. No deal. The raving loser doesn't get a win. The Would-Be-Mad-King can never own up to his own fuckups or failures. Fuckup & Failure? The ocean he swims in.

This War with Reality? For sure, I'm betting on Reality. 

Powering Through...

Folk #1: Powering through on discipline, common sense, gumption, perseversance and an ornery, gnarly commitment to the real...

Imaginary Figures in a Diseased Mind...

Folk #1: This morning there are many, too many to count, fucked up stories competing for our attention. Which one to write about? Maybe not the most important one, but probably one of the funniest ones.  

Charges against Olympian Canoist David Hearn, the "reflecting pool vandal," have been dropped. Who could have predicted this outcome?  Hmmm, well, any sane, rational human being! 

Turns out our President has shadowy, ghostly figures dancing around in his head. He conjures up all kinds of imaginary enemies: Antifa, Communists, Sandwich Guy, Reflecting Pool Vandals; you know,  all those folks eating the cats & the dogs."  

It is funny; all the ways a diseased mind can devolve.

Bozo > Asshole...

Folk #1: Does anyone else remember the Firesign Theatre: an American surreal comedy troupe? Super-funny and mind-expanding. I would listen to them do their thing on the local FM radio station that would frequently spin their records late at night. The station had no corporate-directed format, except DJ's playing cool records all the time. One of my favorite records, and titles was/is: "I Think We are All Bozos on this Bus." Although, that actually seems quaint now. A simpler era. I would amend & update it to "I Think We are All Assholes on this Bus." In the USA, and around the world, there has been a distinct turn to ass-hole-ish-ness in all it's many splendored-forms. This trend is ascendent both near & far. It sort of pisses me off. Which I guess feeds my own private ass-hole-ish-ness too. Super-gnarly, recalcitrant, edgy. It's a conundrum. This is the era where we are fed a daily diet of high-grade Bullshit. Reminds me of that famous Mad Magazine line: "Eat Shit, 50 Million Flies Can't Be Wrong." Our current President and his administration of cowards blatantly lie to the American people, and to the world, every fucking day. It's getting so you are suspicious of everything & everyone. Trust what you are hearing from these goons?! Hell no.  Maybe that's how they want it? Gives them license to rob us all blind, while they unleash a fire-hose of shite upon us. This time, this place: USA = Bozo > Asshole. Definitely not progress...

The Daughter has the Father's Number...

  

Folk #1: That creepy, nerdy, racist, fascist-adjacent, ketamine-infused, White South-African, Apartheid-loving, stooge, Billionaire, or is he still a Trillionaire (?), (so much of his wealth is inflated by the over-valuation of Tesla and SpaceX), is now the face of the over-amped, super-corrupt, Epstein-Class, Tech-Bro Oligarchy.  Musk has 14 children from 4 different women. Family values don't you know?!

Anyway, his first child is "Vivian Jenna Wilson (born April 17, 2004) an American-Canadian social media personality and model.[2] She is the eldest daughter of Elon Musk and his first wife, Justine Musk (née Wilson). In 2020, Wilson came out as a transgender woman, began treatment for gender dysphoria, and became estranged from Elon Musk, changing her legal name two years later."

Vivian seems to have her father's number for sure. I think she, like many of us, have embraced the "woke mind virus," you know, it's a good thing, seeing clearly, sticking to truth, facts, reality, leaning to the light, being progressive and supportive of human beings in their many-splendored glory. One can only hope that Musk inspires a renewed movement to address income inequality. 

As AOC reminds us: "Every Billionaire is a policy failure..."

Addictions Good & Bad...

Folk #1: There was no internet service over here at the big house yesterday, so I wasn't able to write a post. I usually don't want to miss writing in this particular space. I mean, I am usually a bit obessive about writing in the morning. I have an addictive personality. I find the trick is to channel my addictions to either healthy or harmless pursuits. So, yeah, deeply addicted to drinking a pot of coffee in the morning (it seems to work for me), addicted to music, (my love & passion), addicted to reading, (essential to being human), right now, addicted to avocados (they taste amazing and supposedly good for you). The Next Big Thing. Oh yeah, I am also addicted to always finding The Next Big Thing. It's embedded in my being. I am also addicted to writing & blogging (I can't imagine not writing). But yesterday I just had to let it go. I ended up sitting in a comfy chair, looking out the big bay window, watching the sun rise over the lake, sipping coffee, just staring off into the great distance. If I had anything to say, anything to write, or to think, I just let it all drift away. I couldn't surf the internet for the latest on the relentless shit-show, which actually was nice; a brief reprieve. Too much shit-show makes the baby go blind. Anyway, the internet  is back on this morning. So I type. It feels good. You know, you have to be the monkey, & to feed the monkey. So happy I never smoked cigarettes, I gave up drinking alcohol a long time ago, and gambling, which I used to love to do with a great passion, betting on the ponies, is now just a distant, strangely-unreal memory. I can't imagine how gamblers today are going to survive, they can now bet on pretty much anything via their little smart-phones, which is conveniently directly connected to their bank accounts. Holy Mother of God! Bankruptcy looms for a generation of lost, frantic gamblers just trying to get even. That is a fucking losing proposition. No doubt. Not good for the health or wealth of the monkey...

Environmental Dystopia...

Folk #1: The world is on fire. Figuratively, literally. Sure Climate Catastrophe. Helped along by the Climate Change Deniers. The same folks who go out their way to deny Truth & Reality.

We had a taste of environmental dystopia yesterday. A small, short micro-burst blew threw town destroying trees, knocking out power. Expect more of this kind of violent weather. It is the new normal. Over here at the compound, the mansion on the lake, everything failed. That's how it goes sometimes. You ask yourself: "What can wrong?!" The answer: "Everything!"

The power out, the backup generator refused to fire up. The sump-pumps dead. Water flooding the basement. I spent lots of time in the dark playing an acoustic guitar. Yes, I played music while the storm raged and the water rose. Then, lighting candles, walking around with a little, surprisingly, powerful flashlight. I have got to buy one of my own trusty little flashlights. One tiny needlepoint flashlight can light up a whole room. It's gratifying to find something that actually worked. Who knew?!

My smartphone ran down quickly. No internet.  Cut-off. Suddenly alone, stranded, transported back to the 1980's, before personal computers, smartphones, crazy-ass social media. It's wild how we all take so much for granted. I sort of felt like I was the designated caretaker on the Titanic. I was on-duty. Guarding the citadel. The ship was surely going down. All I could do was watch it slowly sink. WTF?!

Late last night, a repairman, lurking in the dark, jump-started the generator, it was small, easily fixed fuckup, and then, magically, all the power in the place came back on. Funny. It's like it never happened. At least, if you don't go down in the basement, or go out in the streets. Trees & branches strewn around some crazy-ass party that got totally out of control.

The last message from my partner late last night: "Don't do anything Stupid." Ha. Tell that to everyone on this fucking teetering, careening, quickly, definitively, frying, planet...

Many Minds...

Folk #1: Wandering? Yes. Good. Rambling thru the streets & paths of our little town, on a Summer day, delightful. Chatting up folks. Promoting our upcoming r&r show. The sun glinting, white puffy clouds passing, humanity in all it's many splendored glory out & about, just living.

A Wandering Mind? Not so good. Distinctly different from aimless & enjoyable Day-Dreaming. For some reason, when my mind wanders, it goes to the dark places, the moody valleys, lands on the fuckups, the missed opportunities, the slammed doors, the broken dreams.

Better to focus on one thing after another. Occupied Mind. Focused Mind. Engaged Mind. Busy Mind. Directed & Disciplined Mind. Yes.

Chip on My Shoulder...

Folk #1: I can't explain it. I believe I was born with a "chip on my shoulder."  Not sure how, why, or when that happened. A quirk of birth? Do you believe in Past Lives? I am deeply unsure. Although, I kind of like the idea. It is appealing to think we are engaged in a long series of repeating lives, working through our shit, having to come back over and over, because some shit just takes multiple lifetimes to fix. So, anyway, I have spent much my Life attending to that chip. Tuning out the "needing, wanting, grasping" radio station, and spending many, many hours trying to perfect a state of Peace & Calm: meditating, concentrated deep breathing, chilling out, trying to sand off the sharp edges of my Spirit & Being. You know ZEN & Be Here Now. I take that chip off of my shoulder and put it away in a dark corner. Funny, it can easily be placed right back on my shoulder in an instant. Some days, I wake up with that chip, edgy as fuck. Or, sometimes it's a comment, or a situation, or just a certain look from a certain person and wham, that chip is right there pointy, cutting, sharp as a razor. And, of course, the crazy-ass nature of our out of control, totally unhinged shitshow of our current time makes having a chip on my shoulder seem like the right and natural state. What's happening in the world right now? I am against it! So, I have used that chip, that edgy-ness, to drive myself, to prod others, and to try to "make things happen." Which may be an illusion. Does anyone really make anything happen? Or does shit just happen? And then, well, I face the music, attend to the details, and make hash of my own little reality. Lately, I have been  starting my days, which sometimes start at an ungodly hour in the morning, when it's still pitch-black out, listening to Lou Reed's song Junior Dad. He recorded it with Metallica. The lyrics are dark, sad, violent, recounting a difficult relationship with his (the character's),  father. It was one of the last things Lou recorded. There is a beautiful extended droning instrumental at the end. 19 mintues of turmoil, sadness, anger & bliss. I don't know, this song speaks to me right now unlike anything else. "The greatest disappointment..."  I can't deny that chip is sitting there, asking to be fed. It's there, has always been there. I am working on it, doing what I can make it work for me, and not against me. It's at least one life-long process...

Diseases of the MInd...

Folk #1: Over here, peace & calm. But, silly me, I check in with the national scene. It's a nasty habit, taking the temperature of the world.

What do I find? 

Ethnic Cleansing, Murder in the Streets, Racial Profiling, Measles on the loose, Parasites in Lettuce, Explosive Diarrhea, Concentration Camps in USA, Fascists in the White House, Stupidity on Steroids, Rich Fucks using Government as a Feeding Trough, Criminals & Rapists: the Epstein Class empowered, a River of Lies, a New Forever War, the AI Scam, our Idiot President yucking it up with the White House Reporters. Fuck. One wonders if Idiocy, Corruption, Fascism, Racism, Stupidity, Greed, Lying, & Evil are contagious? Diseases of the Mind.

Radically Sincere...

Folk #1: Lately, my most radical stance in these trying times? Being sincere. You know, believing that being sincere is important, a good quality to aspire to, & being it. Taking a hard stand and sticking with it. Through thick & thin. Being honest, genuine, pure? Seems so otherworldly. Old-fashioned. Out of step. Everything today seems like a moving target. Also, of course, being a Human Being means there are no absolutes. Absolutely honest, genuine, pure? Seems impossible in the Human realm. All one can do is try one's best in the moment to moment. And if Nature teaches us anything, nothing is truly pure. Still, best to Lean to the Light. Clinging to anything, holding fast, seems recalcitrant, gnarly, contrary. I recently found myself "standing on principle," and it was a bit embarrassing. Every hill is made of shifting sand. Calling attention to myself. I admitted that I had a "code of conduct," you know, for instance: "I don''t hang with Nazis or Assholes," and sticking with it. I was met with a thundering silence. Maybe I dated myself to another time, and another place? Oh, well. It's where I'm at. Fuck it. Damn the torpedoes.

The Days of Reckoning Looming on the Horizon...

Folk #1: These Nazis, or maybe better to call them the Neo-Nazis are not good at governing. If there is one lesson learned from the 20th Century, it would be: Fuck these Nazis. Brutalzing human beings, caging them, deporting them, murdering them, dividing them & humiliating them across racial lines, is just retro, anti-human trash, and Crimes Against Humanity.

These Nazis are liars too. They lie about every damn thing. Their ideology is built on lies, and everything flows like toxic waste from that point forward. You cannot believe one word dribbling from their mouths.

What to do? We are all soiled and diminshed by these Nazi Creeps.

We need to do a little bit of housekeeping. Those who have committed crimes should be arrested and sent to face the music at the International Criminal Court, and made to answer, and take responsibility, for their actions. 

This all needs to happen once we vote, & sweep these Nazis out of our Government.

We need Justice for Humanity. There is a long list of Folks who have violated the law, common sense, & decency. The Days of Reckoning loom over the horizon. So be it.

Turns Out Some Things Can Be Un-Fucked. But Not Everything...

Folk #1: On Monday, this week, I wrote this post: World Gone Wrong. Basically a post about "fuck-ups," near and far. Seems the Universe is so large & diverse, there are forces at work that foster and encourage fuckups. Chaos & Entropy are hard & busy teachers.

Turns out my near to hand fuckups, have been royally un-fucked up. 

A twisted-into-a-pretzel bike chain? 

No worries. Sure, I had to walk that bike across town to the bike shop, a long, winding journey thru the busy streets, but the bike technician put my bicycle on the rack, and in about 3 mins, worked out the kinks and reset the chain. "No charge!"  The bike tech is a serious pro. He doesn't give you any "warm & fuzzies," he just does the work, gives you a little nod of recognition, and gets busy, onto the next thing. It does "take a village." And it helps to frequent local businesses. These folks stand behind their work & their bikes. Gratifying. 

Also, the short-run vinyl vendor who ran an order of 20 vinyl records was deeply apologetic about sending flawed, defective records to us. He assured us that he will re-cut 16 new records to replace the ones that came out poorly, and ship them out next week. Again, refreshing to find someone who stands behind their product & company, and takes responsibility when things go wrong. We were worried we'd have to go to war to find some kind of solution. Nope. Again, the magic words: "No charge." Satisfying.

And, well, the winds shifted, and the smoke in our little town cleared. A gorgeous day yesterday. Lower temps, cleaner air. Felt like "Endless Summer," was back on in full glory. Of course, we are captive to the direction of the wind. Those fires in Canada are raging. But, a reprieve for now. Encouraging.

What about Climate Catastrophe? Oh, well, that fuck up is still on in full force. The Tricky Monkeys aren't even dealing with it. I mean, expect it to get worse, with all kinds of unfortunate consequences across the board. Yikes.

And what about the War? 

Total fuck up. An Expanding fuck up. Clearly our prodiously stupid President and his cowardly boot-lickers are greatly over-matched. Figure that the fuck ups will continue, and continue to replicate & multiply. There is a limit to un-fucking things up, and you need competent, honest folks with smarts & integrity, willing to roll their sleeves up and to do the work, & to make adjustments, recalibrate, renew. This administration is incapable of taking any responsiblity whatsoever. They can never, admit mistakes, they think they can just bullshit & bluff their way past reality. They just constantly lie, shout & rant.  Disheartening. 

So, yeah, a completely mixed bag. Things will often fuck up. The question is, how does one deal with it? In my own little circle things seem on the upswing, in the bigger picture? Fuck no.

Embracing the Arbitrary Nature of Existence...

Folk #1: Funny. A very good sleep last night. No dreams that I can remember. Just a deep submersion into silence, quiet, darkness. Very refreshing.

What am thinking about as I type this morning? I am thinking about the arbitrary nature of our existence. Random. Incidental. Accidental. Shaky. Winding. Circular. Evolving. Devolving. 

Doors, open & closed. 

All the experiences that make a mark on our consciousness. The trauma & drama of having, and being being aware of, having a body.

We construct a narrative arc. We piece together the all of the signs & wonders. We perceive and decide. 

We tell the stories. We dream the dreams.  We crash & burn on the shoals of reality. We modify and draw conclusions. And then we often tear those conclusions up and try on some others. We modify our appearance, our clothes, our attitudes, our opinions. We try to draw a few lines in the sand to stand upon. They slowly vanish under assault from the waves & the breeze & the arbitrary vicissitudes of a well-earned life.

World Gone Wrong...

Folk #1: Things going wrong near & far. You ask yourself, somewhat beseechingly: "What Can Go Wrong now?" Well, pretty much everything. Words like Entropy & Chaos leap into your mind. You know, things like randomness, disorder, failure & fuck-up-ness rear their ugly heads. Seems these phenomena are just in-built in the Universe. As Neil Young once sang: "Rust Never Sleeps." 

Yes, locally, things have been falling apart in my little circle. I keep bringing my main means of transportation, my trusty bicycle, into the bike shop for repair; flat tire, twisted into a pretzel-like chain, gear shifter stuck. How did any of these things happen? I have no idea. A series of little freak occurances. Tiny fuck-ups that led to major fails. 

Also, we ordered up from a boutique custom vinyl shop, a limited vinyl run of one of our albums. The vendor sent us 20 copies. We discovered to our dismay that 16 of them were defective with all kinds of issues. Only 4 copies played without issues. WTF?! Something went drastically wrong with that production run. Yikes.

Then step back, move out a little farther, and the wind currents blowing a certain way, means that ugly toxic smoke from out of control Canadian fires engulfs our little town with unhealthy, toxic, noxious, air. Hiding indoors, wearing mask outdoors, another kind of fuck-up-ness alive in our corner of the world.

Then step even a little farther afield, extreme temperatures from the stupid humans throwing too much carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, trapping heat, fucking with our goldilocks evironment. Yes. Major fuck-up. Chaos baby, in it's many splendored forms.

Finally we hear that the USA is now again cranking up the War with Iran. Fuck. "What could possibly go wrong?" Oh yeah. Fuck. Everything. Especially because the USA, and it's delusional, seriously-unhinged, & super-uninformed electorate, royally fucked up by electing an incompetent, corrupt, greedy, brainless, quite-disgusting, fucking idiot. Does he know what he's doing? Fuck no.

Let's zoom back in time & check in with the great William Shakespeare, from his play Julius Casear: “Cry ‘Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war…”

Days of uncertainty, chaos, entropy. World Gone Wrong.

Failure, Success, Madness...

"She knows there's no success like failure / And that failure's no success at all," 

Bob Dylan's 1965 song "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" on the album Bringing It All Back Home. 

Folk #1: Yes. A quiet Sunday morning. Thinking about living under a government that is at war with it's own people, and how that same government is desperately, frantically, nonsensically, pleading, threatening, assaulting & punishing folks every damn day, and at the same time, they are demanding that things are great, even though we can see the country is locked in a robust, ever-expanding shit-show, & that despite the evidence of our own eyes & ears, we should all get in line & vote for them once again. Because... well... Fucking... Madness...

I am also thinking about Success & Failure. It is a certain private obsession built into the fabric of my being. I mean, it's embedded in me, not by choice. A sort of cross to bear. I suppose, I would amend Dylan's line like so: "There really is no success, only infinite degrees of failure." 

Not as poetic or musical. But, my experience tells me it is essentially "true." The trick is to navigate through the murky cloud of failure, and deal with it as best one can. 

Revenge of the Stupids Tour...

Folk #1: Think of Trump and his cowardly boot-lickers as the Revenge of the Stupids Tour. Every day it seems we are assualted with more & more stupid shit. It's exhausting. Attacks on our intelligence, on our public health, on our legal system, on logic, truth, and clear-thinking. Most of us know all of this shite is so wrong, and it grinds on one's good cheer. These folks have no idea how to run a government, they are dismantling & looting government while feeding the Epstein Class of Trillionaires & Billionaires. The Stupids are afraid of the American Voters. They are super-afraid of accountability & reality. Think of the extreme temps, the blazing out of control fires, as reality making a nasty comeback. Yes. Climate Catastrophe is Woke. The Trumpers can lie & rant, flail & fail all they want, they can deny & try to con their way out of the plain truth staring them in their fat, blow-hard, faces, but it's all to no avail. I think we finally, mercifully, are reaching the Limits of the Stupid. The Con, the grift, the deep in the bone corruption can only go so far. Sure, lots of folks have been riding the Money Train, but that too is loaded with Bad-Faith, Stupidity & Corruption. Much of our economy now is built on the foundation of Fraud & Theft. What next? The Age of Accountability. It's gonna get really spicy & dicey around here. Lots of hard work ahead. Many of these folks in the current adminstration will finally have to face the music. Let Justice & Accountability prevail. Thinking the Revenge of Reality Tour. The Counter-Revolution in the Head. Welcome to Woke-Ville fuckers...

We Have Cooked Our Own Goose...

Folk #1: Man-made Climate Catastrophe Part II (see previous post). Sure, Climate Change is real, we done did it to ourselves via our industrial ways, burning fossil fuels, factory farming of livestock, & the planet is suffering under extreme heat, too much carbon-dioxide in the atmosphere, the heat gets trapped, and everything burns. The Humans have been very poor caretakers of the Planet. Extreme heat leads to super-dry conditions on the surface of the land. Below is NASA's map of fires that are raging out of control in Canada and the USA. The world is burning. And we are the arsonists. Yesterday, because of the direction that the air was blowing, it was so smokey in Chicagoland, the air so unhealthy, folks were directed to stay inside, or, if they asolutely had to go out, to wear protective masks. Lake Michigan was shrouded in a thick, gray, smokey haze. You could smell and taste ashes in the air. My partner and I cancelled most of our outdoor activities. Yikes. The new normal is definitely not fucking normal. We Human Beings have cooked our own fucking goose! WTF were we thinking?!

Man-Made Climate Catastrophe...

Folk #1: Yes. Incredibly hot in the Heartland. My partner and I have navigated thru the streets and paths under a blazing Sun the last week or so. Even a few hours outside is a challenge, and pretty damn exhausting. I must say, yes, we Tricky Monkeys have totally fucked oureselves Climate-Wise. Burning fossil fuels and throwing massive amounts of carbon-dioxide into the atmosphere have really done a number on our "Goldilocks" climate on Earth. We are seeing ungodly temps all across the planet, and more frequent & violent storms. Madness for sure. How can a Species be so unthinking, uncaring, self-sabotaging? I guess it's Greed, Hubris, Arrogance, Stupidity, Blind Fucked-up-ness. Yes. Book it: Man-Made Climate Catastrophe. Some of us are hoping for a Miracle Cure, a Silver Bullet, but we are fast approaching an irreversible Cascade of Failure on all fronts.Yikes. Those Environmentalists, Poets, sensitive Singer-Songwriters & Hippies were so right way back in the 1960's & 1970's. We doubled down on the Madness. The Future is looking Hot, Super-Fucking-Hot. We were born into Paradise, and turned it into a Blazing, Smoking parking lot. Fuck. Stupid Tricky Monkeys.

Lessons in Summer 2026...

Folk #1: 10 Lessons in the Summer of 2026...

1. Never, ever, rough-house with an English Bulldog.

2. Toast is good; a food-group all it's own.

3. Electrolytes will save your ass.

4. Cooking food became a common practice in the Human Clan for a reason.

5. Listen to the Crazy People to know what's up in crazy-land, & at same time tune them the fuck out.

6. Pay attention to every last detail in your own little orbit.

7. Live lightly & in the moment.

8. Silence truly is golden.

9. Find a buddy, and live & die by the buddy system.

10. "Be humble, it's the Universe, Jake..."

Crimes Against Us All...

Folk #1: ICE is murdering Human Beings in the streets of America. The latest murders happened in Maine & Texas. ICE agents shoot folks down and then lie about it. Often they lie even when the video reveals their crimes & their lies. So obviously wrong & evil. This, of course, is terribly intolerable, horrible; dastardly evil crimes against us all. Think: State Terrorism. We are all under assault. If we are silent, we are complicit. We are all implicated in these crimes. Abolishing ICE is an essential first step. These armed, masked thugs acting with lawless impunity must be charged and tried in the courts. This kind of senseless, inhumane violence coming from a Government Agency is beyond the pale. Any & all politicians who support, and voted to fund this violent agency need to be voted out, shamed, shunned & kicked to the curb. Yes. This violence in our streets is happening in America 2026. Appalling. Heart-breaking. We must stand against this horror-show. Organize. Protest. Vote. Demand accountability. What an abomination & a terrible stain on our beloved country. No time for tears. We demand Justice. NOW!

An Expanding Day...

Folk #1: The expanding days. Yesterday was a long day. It just seemed to expand moment to moment. My partner I were attending to multiple duties. Lots of to-ing & fro-ing. On the go pretty much all day. It was exhilarating & exhausting. We definitely fully experienced the day. The beaches were alive with activity, the paths & walkways busy with humans doing their human things. We just threw ourselves into all of our tasks, chores & responsibilities. We didn't have time to think. It was a day of doing. A working day. Finally, when I had moment, all I could do was sit in silence. Too tired to think. Clarity. Just a bold clarity descended upon me like a halo or aura. What did we accomplish? Not so much. There was the beat, the churn, the pulse of Life. We floated, we flowed, we trudged, we persevered, we stuck to the tasks at hand, put our shoulders to the wheel. We did every thing we had to do. It was a long, long day.

Doing Good, Being Good...

Folk #1: No tears shed for the untimely death of the evil-doers, those who spent their time on the planet making life a misery & chore for other folks; those nasty folks who punched down, and brutalised the poor, the weak, the hungry, the vulnerable, the needy. When one of these folks pass, the first thought: What a terrible human being & a terrible legacy. Sorry to say, there are some folks who are irredeemable. If they are on their way now to meet their maker, well, let's hope they are held to account for their crimes against humanity. Accountability in Big Sky! Some of us really do think we should all go out of our way to make the world a better place; kinder, gentler, more giving, willing to lend a helping hand to our fellow human beings. I think of musical inspirations: Nick Lowe's "What's so Funny about Peace, Love & Understanding," and Jerry Garcia's & Robert Hunter's "Wake up to find you are the eyes of the World."  It's not that complicated, but it does seem to be against the larger trend. Maybe the question on everyone's lips should be: "What can I do to make this a better, friendlier, place?" Doing good, being good just because. Sounds naive, sappy, too hippy-dippy? So be it. Ha, I mean,  Fuck It. It's ok to lean to the Light, to take a stand, to shun & condemn the evil-doers, and to stand with, & root for, the good-doers...

Monster for a Day...

Folk #1: I am staying at a lakefront mansion with a couple little furry creatures. It is one of my gigs. There is a superb sound-system here, and an excellent coffee-maker, so I am well-fortified for a nice stay-over. Yesterday, I had a super-busy schedule, lots of to-ing & fro-ing. I was lucky to have a decent night's sleep the night before, so I was feeling totally up to the task. There was a Monster Energy Drink in the fridge, someone else's beverage, something I would never normally drink. I drank it down with gusto. OMG. It was total rocket fuel. I kind of felt like Superman. Pretty sure I could crash through a wall. Now, I am not endorsing this energy drink, it's loaded with caffeine, and I get enough of that with my coffee addiction. I have sneaking suspicion it's not actually a healthy beverage. I told my partner I drank it, and she said: "I forbid you from drinking that ever again." Funny. She is the only person I ever really listen to. Ha! Oh well. All I can say, I flew through the day, sailed through all my appointments, did everything I was supposed to do, & I felt no pain. Early evening I was pretty spent. It was a good day. Still, I know, one needs to pick & choose one's poisons wisely. "Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing..." But Monster for a day, yes, sure that did the trick...

Ping-Pong Ball & Yo-Yo...

Folk #1: Yes. Over here in my little corner of the Universe I am aware of the famous line: "As Above, So Below."  You know, what's happening in the Macrocosm, is also happening in the Microcosm. From the Emerald Tablet: "That which is above is like to that which is below, and that which is below is like to that which is above."

Connected.  To everything. Mysterious & cool. That has been my guiding principle for a long time. A number of years back I had one of those profound epiphanies, walking on a beach, feeling deeply, irrevocably bound and tied to everything in the Universe. It was just a flash, a blast of insight, and an overwhelming feeling, a real, & profound experience of connection. A lightening strike of Wisdom.  Ever since, I know deep-down that I have that in my kit-bag. Not alone. Connected. It's meaningful, one of my deepest, & strongest insights & beliefs.

Nothing has ever shaken that from my grip, a profound knowledge in my being. So what's happening in my little corner? Let's call it the Ping-Pong Ball, or Yo-Yo journey of Life. Up, down, all around. I try to steady myself, but I am on a crazy hayride, or out of control, carreening roller-coaster. Everything is in motion. Flux. Flex. Colliding. Crashing. What is up is down, what is down is up.

Can't help but think I am just reflecting, mirroring, greater forces from above. Like Lou Reed's great song: "I'll Be Your Mirror." It's wild. The trick is to try to stay calm, cool, collected. Watch the grand unfolding  drama on the big stage, and in the quiet corridors backstage too. It's all lightening & thunder, hurly-burly.  Bring on Da Noise, and Da Funk.  Fuck. It's glorious as hell, you know, the Universe, being in it, & of it, right?

Days...

Folk #1: "The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills." - Charles Bukowski. The key lesson I learned from Bukowski? Write. Endure. No matter what. Stick to it. 

All that drinking & fighting? Forget about it.  

Always be working on the next project. Life is too short. The days are running away. Over here we are making routines, and breaking routines. Trying on new things. Open to change. Keeping busy in the creative realm. Writing songs, rehearsing, performing. 

At the same time gravitating to the essentials: Truth, Beauty, Responsibility, Accountability; being a Human Being with Integrity, Grit, Determination. 

All of this sounds a bit old-fashioned, out of step, against the trend. Oh well. No worries on that count. Happy to be different. Realizing we are all on our very own singular journey. We each get to choose our road, our path, and how we will deal with the hurly-burly, & the slings & arrows.

Damn the Torpedoes. The days fly by.

Better? Nope.

Folk #1: This morning I think to myself: "Maybe things are getting better?" Ha. Silly me. Probably not. Looks like things are getting weirder, stranger, stupider, goofier. Think: more corrupt, more unhinged, more chaotic. Cloudier, foggier, more uncertain. There is evolution & devolution. It's a challenge to all of us folks leaning to the Light. If you are a positive, hopeful, optimistic type, you are definitely frantically swimming against a raging current of bad  & thoroughly stupid shite.

Caught...

Folk #1: Sure. I am caught. Like a bug (call me Kafka). In a spider's web. Suspended between the world I'd like to live in, and the one I do live in. Whiplashed between Hope & Reality. Every day I have to make the choice to not be overcome, overwhelmed, blinded by either one. Holding both concepts, ideas & visions in my mind at all times. Totally present, alive, aware, awake, while simultaneously being entangled in the silky tendrils of the spidery web. Sure. I am a prisoner, and a Free Being. Free to serve & to live life to the fullest. I reside in the web, and can envision a world without webs. Clear-eyed. Present. Lost & found in the moment to moment.