Guilty pleasures

We alll have things in our lives that we're not proud of. I just want to get some of them off my chest. I like the Jackson Five, The The, professional wrestling, kools, pork rinds, sno balls, Slayer, KMFDM, Laibach, Vladimir Mayakovskij, internet porn,Mexican souvenirs especially the ones with dried frog carcasses in amusing poses, Ika I Rutan, Ani muthafukin DiFranco, NWA,
Oi, Big Butt magazine, Ikea, Jack Chick tracts, and Sparks malt liquor beverage cause it has caffiend in it to keep you awake while you get your drink on.

This does not make me a bad person!!

Do you like Kenny G, or watching reality TV? Does the sight of Britney Spears chocha fascinate you? Do you know what 2girls1cup is?

If so, this also does not make you a bad person. It makes you a freak like the rest of us.

Busted boots on a Texas hill.

There they were, the naked
flowers unseen
laid out on grey and brown
rocks and brambles
sunning on a dry hill
once a sea bed
but now a hard stone fort.
No one was there
to take a picture then
it was just as lonesome
though,
back when ponderous dark
icthyosaurs with eyes as big
as manhole covers
swam overhead.
This hill in a hot place,
with spanish bayonet plants thrusting upward
like their savage namesakes,
pushing their flowers to the sun
hoping to touch dry air
from the bottom of a shallow
ocean, is just as still
and invites the traveler to
sigh
and move on.

Luke Skywalker IS Darth Vader

Just rode only 8 miles tonight. Stopped by an old friends house. We used to get baked on his couch and play video games. Now, he has a great wife and two super smart boys. I just dropped in on a whim and he and we talked about the course work he's been doing. It seems that his intellect which has always been pretty formidable has grown even more powerful. He talked about "the Empire Strikes Back" of all things and his analysis of it for a mythology class being taught at St. Edwards. He was talking about Jungian concepts and Joseph Campbell. What the hell!! It was great to hang out. I hope I can drop in again, soon.

comments

In case anyone ever stumble across this blog, they can put in anonymous comments if they want. All I ask is that they scale back on the profanity wherever possible. It's not that I mind a little obscenity. I really don't. In fact, I was arrested once for obscenity. It involved selling an inflatable sheep called the "I love Ewe" to an undercover cop when I worked at a gift shop. So, please let your freak flag fly. Just try to be creative and use your wits.

Wall street fantasy #3

May it cause them grief,
these monsters who
ply the clay of our misery with
their thick and impervious
fingers.
Self-styled royalty without
pedigree or honor other than
their own enrichment,
their own engorgement.
The thick blood of an insect
humps its way through
their merchant hearts.
For all the ivy that covers
the walls of their moneyed lairs
they still have the souls
of whores and thieves.
What predictable atrocities will
follow when
all their worst blood stained
fears of what
we are capable
become gloriously
true.

reluctant atheism

Like any thinking individual, I have questioned my faith countless times. I used to think that my atheist friends held their beliefs because they had religion crammed down their throats from an early age. Also, we're surrounded by plenty of examples of assholes who use religion as a way to line their pockets or manipulate weak minded people. Every church seems to have its clique of judgemental busybodies who treat the congregation like their private country club as well. These seemed like trivial reasons to let go of belief in a supreme being who loves us and wants us to be happy.
I have begun to embrace atheism gradually and reluctantly. I say reluctantly because, unlike so many of my friends, I had to seek out church and make every effort to get my family to take it seriously. By the time of my first communion, my family had pretty much stopped going. Even until recently, when my father was dying of cancer, he really did not want to see a priest at all. He had no desire to participate in any sacraments. It saddens me deeply to finally understand that god is a human construct. I am an adept historian, so intellectually, I understand where monotheism started and some of the underlying reasons why it took such a firm hold. I understand science so I can accept the fact that my religious tradition is full of factual mistakes and inaccurate assertions about the origins of life on the planet and the nature of matter.
But still, it's a deep wound that oher atheists don't seem to feel. I sincerely want there to be some shape in the void, some intelligence. I truly want to think that my children have a spark of the divine and that the evil will be punished and the good will be rewarded in some afterlife. I feel a profound need to be loved unconditionally by some invisible superhero who really understands me and appreciates all the good things I am capable of. I want to be embraced in the midst of my plight and reassured in some way.I am diminished by the unavoidable truth that my death is the end of it all and probably after I have suffered and been to some extent abandoned by the living. I wish I could wish god into existence, but it ain't gonna happen, and I am bummed.

I have clocked no miles this week. That means I'm getting grumpy. I know there are lots of people that hate to exercise, but some days that's all I want to do. I miss working with my hands since I'm cooped up in front of a computer grading mind numbing essays.


The Vernal Equinox approaches. I need to look in the book and see what kind of cool things we can do for the kids to celebrate. I saw two blackbirds fighting in a magnolia tree today. Perhaps this a portent of conflict approaching...or maybe they were fixing to tear off a piece of ass.

Uncle John's Pistol.

It lays dark and dense
black metal cold heavy brick
old guns hold secrets

No keys open doors
when there are no locks to turn
no portal, just dust

He carried it home
from a war from
a juke joint
resting in his rough wool coat
delightful in the small way
it filled his palm.
When the moon was
high and full
and the wisteria and brambles
grabbed at him
in the silvered darkness
a little lump of
something steady kept
him from whispering
"who's there!?"
or when eyes would dart and
roll their silent signals
in a rickety place
nods would be exchanged
and corners regarded upon
in pay day saloons
he need only to feel the grips
and they, dusky and bloodyminded
would skulk after some
peckerwood
too drunk to be any trouble.

And now it waits for me
to find my way by a wholesome
bit of water
to throw it in and
send it back to his creaking
barrel house Valhalla.

two wheels

Let's get on a bike once in a while. Two wheels and a beautiful day does more for me than almost anything else. This weekend I even got to take my boy out in the trailer. I often wonder what he thinks when he sees the streets zip by at 8 or 9 miles and hour from one foot off the ground. He seems to enjoy it immensely. We saw busy people and buses and helicopters and some folks just waved from their front lawn. There was a nice bunch of Mexican guys who were working on a house that were especially friendly. One of them wanted to know where he could get one of the trailers for his kid. I speak okay Spanish, so I told him where they're on sale. It was an easygoing ride and my Brother came along. I was packing water in one of those first generation camel backs that he got issued on his first tour in the desert. I was glad of it because it was a super dry day and the temp got up to the low 90's. Usually, I think camel backs make you look like a tool, but this one was all early desert camo and so it looked okay.
I remember when we were boys, we would ride all over the neighborhood and almost get lost. In texas, it always gets hot. We didn't have fancy polar bottles or camel backs, but we would stop off at an ice house and buy super cold Big Red and chick o sticks to cool off and fuel our return trips. We would stop wherever there was a big patch of shade from a tree in someone's yard and we would sit on the curb and finish our drinks. I would yawp out an enormous burp and we would ride home and place the bottles in a crate until we had enough to bring back for the deposit. Back then, we used to get 5 cents each. Everytime I ride my bike on a warm day, I think about all the good miles we rode and all the joys of moving under my own power.

fragment

It was hot when we danced
under the lights in the park
and my bandana wiped
Texas off your face
and you breathed lemon and good gin
and your neck smelled of cinnamon
the curve of your back in my hand
the silk of your cheek on my ear

warm fuzzy poop

It's been a long hard day. Instead of loading trucks or driving around, I graded hundreds of essays from 11th graders. These essays are a big part of a standardized test. It's touching when you think of how important this thing is in their young lives. Their world is very narrow and they struggle wth the broader concepts that they are forced to write about. These kids are going to have to come of age in a world without a whole lot of hope. Is it any wonder why they seem so numb and deliberately oblivious? They are surrounded by a world they can't control and most of them couldn't tell you what their real hopes and fears are. I don't think they have enough introspection. Sure they can respond with what they think you want to hear, but I really thnk most of them can't see beyond the plastic materialism they've been conditioned to embrace. I look around and even the kids who live in my "ghetto" are soft and flabby wearing big baggy two hundred dollar hoodies and never working a day in their lives. Well, I digress. Anyway to the budding youth of my native land I can only say.."You're fucked!"

Good Times

It's almost time for south by southwest (sxsw). Every year I get a little bummed out because I have no way of going to any of the gigs I really want to. A couple of years ago, though, I worked as stage security at Stubb's. It was pretty cool. I was one of those guys who keep the fans away from the stage and all that. Sometimes I break up fights, but not very often because so many of the people who come out to shows have spent way too much money to get thrown out for fighting. I saw the Beastie Boys and the Dresden Dolls and the Pretenders (not as lame as you might think) and Athlete, and some African band called Fema Cuda or something like that. Actually Dresden Dolls was a really cute and sexy show, but there wre a couple of rough and ugly looking drag queens that were bumping into people and starting shit. They were looking for a fight which they didn't get because Austin is a cool town and very openminded. I got them to leave without having to put my hands on them which is cool because I hate having to get physical with someone when I don't have to.
Actually, true to form, the worst asshole was at a closed industry party. Some guy affiliated with some production company was drunk and hitting on an absolutely flawlessly beautiful woman in the bar. She blew him off and , now I wasn't there to see it take place but I got there as soon as they hit me up on the radio, he pulls out his cock and starts pissing on her. The bar had pee on it somehow and she was screaming and pulling at her dress and trying to wash up in the ladies room. He was yelling that he would have us all executed etc. He must have accidentally hit the steel pole by the door about five or six times before he finally made it out on to the street. Good times. Not the ones I'll ever tell my kids about.

Alamo Day

March 6 was Alamo day. I grew up just a few miles from the Alamo. I used to take the bus downtown with my brother on summer days and just walk around and buy raspas (sno-cones) in the shady park across from there. Most people are amazed at how small the remaining building is and they are mystified by how it held out for so long. I guess what most people don't understand is that it was a much bigger place and the Mexicans probably had qualms about attacking a fortified mission with no real escape route. It was more of a standoff and there was bravery on both sides, I guess.
What most non-Texans don't understand is that the Mexicans who lived here made the decision to rebel against their motherland because it had been taken over by a military dictator. I respect and honor Travis and Houston and all those other guys, but Juan Seguin was the driving force behind the rebellion. He was treated pretty shabbily by all those hillbillies who poured in later on, but most of us here still acknowledge his importance.
I know a lot of this seems dull, but to my mind it points out that revolutions and liberations always have to run the risk of being turned into oppression and swindles. I don't think the men who fought and died in the Texas revolution did it because they wanted us to become a slave state and they didn't sacrifice everything so that the U.S. could use us as a staging area to go into Mexico and take over. I think they did it because they wanted the most vital thing any free man wants and that is to be left alone to handle his own business. So much of that is dead and gone like the Commanche and open land, but I still run into little echoes of it here and there. Would it be so terrible to have some of that back again?

toes

I saw a homeless guy asleep on the sidewalk today. For some reason, he had his shoes off and I could see his toes and the wrinkles on his soles. I was looking out my windshield and his toes looked like dusty grapes. He had high arches. Through the whole red light, I thought about those feet and how someone, somewhere must have held those tiny little feet of his in their hands when he was just a little baby. How warm and fragile they must have been then. I could imagine his feet getting roughed up the way mine did when I was a kid and ran around all summer long building up calloused pads like a pirate or an indian. They were long and narrow, though. Not like mine in that regard. They looked almost refined. How did he end up there and not in a car waiting at a light waiting for GO like the rest of us? Where have those feet been? Wrinkled with the toes curling like a little weak fist trying to keep the warmth there? I thought about all the acts of kindness and generosity I have benefitted from in my life. I remember the people who helped me out a lot more clearly than the ones who cheated me or beat me in some way. It made me think about how lucky most of us are to not be lying there exposed and somewhat numb.

As good as it gets

Today, politics are in the air. We have just had a primary here in Texas. Obviously, there were some shenannigans that gave H.C. a boost here. There was a ton of talk about "conservatives" voting for her in an attempt to sucker the Dems into more pointless bickering and mud slinging. What a circus. We look like a sorry bunch indeed. I think we can do better than Bush..ClintonClinton...BushBush twenty years. It seems like a bannana republic and not an open democracy.

At least Obama sounds interesting. What does it say about us as a country if the poor biracial kid of a single mother with no money and no connections grows up to be president?

He has come a long way and I hope he goes the distance and gets all the way to the top. Obviously, it's going to be hard, and, quite frankly, he's got some tough times ahead, but I plan on giving him my full support.