"...screwy war"

I have this notion that #45 one late night soon will bolt out of the WH eyes bugging screaming  something about "giant snakes in the walls" with a bunch of Secret Service guys chasing him with nets.

Hopped up on Meth he outruns the heat carjacks a 1956 Desoto then drives to a 7-11 which he robs at gun point taking 20 pounds of Viagra packs of Slim Jims a keg of Diet Pepsi, and the latest issue of "Juggs".

Still wired he jumps the fence to the railroad tracks hops a freight train headed to Manitoba, and is never seen again. Though like Elvis there are constant sightings.
Especially in Trumpland where he's now worshiped. The "First Church of Trump" becomes the fastest growing cult since Jim Jones shook Teddy Kennedy's hand. 7-11's are ritually robbed all over the pink slip states.

I mean more the usual.

His followers re-enact their gawd's last act as a sign of loyalty, and in hope of going to Jesusland  to be with #45. This when the cops blow their brains out for armed robbery. Later President Pence signs an executive order for the mass extermination of Queers Negros etc etc....there's a long list. This of course starts a nuclear civil war.

Above the Red States Army of Peoples Vengeance.

They're raising their Queer Commie flag over former Washington D.C.

Meanwhile  Otto Smink,...aka the former #45 plays piano in the Redeye. A legal meth, and ganja whorehouse in Bleeding Badger Manitoba. Otto  is content in his new life. The only problem the radiation from the screwy war down south...what the hell they give him all the speedballs he can shoot. Life is good.

(...first draft. Been up for a few days. Let me sleep on it.)

"My latter Life, and Times"

About getting stuff forever, and ever. The Xmas tide washes over our frayed republic. So everybody is buying all the Korean, and or Chinese crap they can. At a 300% mark-up when it gets unloaded at our docks.

Well I'm no longer a consumer so I guess I can now be objective. We really don't need hardly anything. 90% of "Stuff' is optional. as my pal Geneva Hagen sez. We can instead use the same stuff for years on end, and don't need much new stuff.

I mean other than new shoes each winter. Maybe a new coat or jacket two every few years. That's about it. My computer, and phone are fine. They have been for years, and will be for another 10 years. They still look good too because I takes care of them. Other than food meds shelter books a few toys, and a movie now, and then we're fine.

I treat myself to some little nice thing at least once a month. This as opposed to damned near every day as is going on all around me. It actually means more when you have to save for it plan for it all that. Like our parents, and grand parents had to do.

I watch as folks buy the same thing over, and over because it has new apps or this special bing-bang or they'll die. Nuts. Mind you being poor is a drag. I used to like buying junk it was fun...but who needs it.

Also from Geneva, "...My own measure of poor (emergencies aside) is whether I can afford to eat what I want to!"

"...are there no work houses are there no prisons?"

Being seriously poor is a super drag. An extinction level event. Never been there hope not to. Still being just somewhat poor is manageable.

A calm peaceful home is good for the soul. Sure I get nuts. Though not so demented as I would if the digs were chaotic. Tidy...tidy makes all the difference. Rich or poor. Nice tidy digs keeps you sane, and creative.

See,...creative.

As for eating. For a while not as nice as I used to. This was mostly my poor organizing of what my small income could do. Learning to be poor is I imagine like learning to be rich. You have to plan things. I still had many middle class habits. This caused any number of disasters. Now it's calmer. I buy food rationally, and plan nice events at least twice a month.

By world standards I'm rich as sin.

By oblivious upper middle class American standards I'm eating out of a dumpster. Fuck'em I'm fine.

I now know what I always supposed. One does not need very much to have a pleasant or at least calm life.

"...weepy"

'Having an extreme sense of anxiety confusion, and assorted delusions lately. I'm grumpy annoyed, and weepy too. Yeah I know we all are. Still,...well. You know how it is. I guess that's why I takes those long walks . That, and building model kits to pass the time. This while listening to that Christmas music channel.

I tune in the Show music channel as well. Btw that reminds me what a friend said. She was head of the arts dept. at the broadcast station I wasted my life at. This in reference to how things change. There's a gay program at that station, and the current generation of perverts is just not the fun previous folks used to be.

She said, "...what kind of faggots are these? They don't even like Show Music!"

Being an old school Queer from back in the day this just made me laugh!

What a time we had.

"...old times"

Just read in the "Times" that loneliness among those over 60 is epidemic.

...ya think.

I go for days sometimes weeks without speaking to anyone. My circle of comrades are too many long gone. The ones still breathing are far away. That, and I've become a part time shut-in.

All this evolved so slowly over time that I didn't really notice...well I knew, but didn't. Ya know how that can be.

They say the fire inspectors now look for signs of elder isolation as well as fire hazards during inspections. Well we have inspections here, but it's not door to door...yet.

They just check the building's electrical, and gas systems then split.

Signs of isolation are shabbiness unwashed dishes, and the like. I guess general untidiness. A depressive lack of caring. My digs have always been neat. I try to keep it tidy. Actually I enjoy doing that. One feels better in cute digs.

However with many elders their place may need a paint job. Some plaster work that sort of thing.  Most no longer keep their digs up. For some there just doesn't any longer seem to be a point.

Which btw are exactly the signs they look for.

When I was very ill over these last years I knew the only way anyone would know I'd kicked the bucket would be the smell...especially in summer.

I actually left my door a-jar when I thought my time was up so they wouldn't have to kick the door in. I later found that this is somewhat common for the isolated elderly very ill to do...and I thought I had invented it.

Aw well.

Look I'm fine. Just complaining is all. That, and I'm really tired of fighting the damned system. I just want to be left alone for heavens sakes.

On the other hand battling social services is a way to get me out of the house, and speaking with folks so...

"...I didn't ask for this"

"Who am I that Angels would speak to?"

That's the question I ask. Dreams. Again, and again. Holy dreams. I don't seek them, and even don't want them, but they keep invading my cynical angry self. Some presence is trying to make a point. This happens all the time to many...no matter if they want it or not.

Beware inking down of your dreams. They'll either end up in some future holy scripture, and or as evidence at your trial. This runs through my mind as I try to make a kind of coherent sense of my dreams of late.

If I was still seeing a shrink I think she or he would quickly explain these phantoms away. They always did, but I never bought their crap. No idea where what or who. All I know is it's happening. The details are personal. Each gets a unique message or messages.

Time is not linear, and space warps. The damned thing stretches contracts , and twists. Like origami on crack whiskey, and pastries.

I mean just ask Niels Bohr...he'll give you an earful.

I don't know which is worse. The stupid , and disjointed terrors, and boredom of my regular nightmares. That or this holy crap that won't go away.

Then when it does split I'm empty confused pissed, and want it either back or at least an explanation of the damned intrusions.

Who am I who are we that Angels would speak to.

"...but first this word"

Hi folks.

I'm that guy you call Jesus the Christ,...how ya doing. Look I came by to say...again. ...gimme a break. That I was born in Judea a few thousand years ago. That I'm a "Brown Jew", and not a "Swedish Christian". Look just Google the history of the area alright?

Also quit worshiping me.

I mean thanks, and all, but that really wasn't the idea. The whole thing was just to get you maniacs to be a bit nicer to each other. Also there's no hell...not in the demented way your Religions teach anyway. That, and quit committing genocide in my various names...not good!

So,....I Loves you Cool Kats.

Yeah ya so full 'a shit, but I still loves you. Try that with them that pisses you off...hint hint...that's what I came to your freak show in the first place for. Btw I like that you're going to the Moon 'n Planets, and all, and making so many cool things...Toasters! Ball point pens...heck even my Dad never thought of that jazz...see you can really be good.

However that Strip Mining thing...real bad idea.

Your despoiling the Earth is a serious mark against your species. Here's a phrase for you,..."Early Extinction". Get my drift?

Anyway with one of my Birthdays coming up,...the real one was in the Spring, but never mind.

Anyhow for my Birthday it would be cool if each of you all seven billion not counting all the Virus Plankton Whales Great Oaks Lady Bugs, Cats, and folks...

Look for my Birthday if each of you Seven Billion Humans could do one kind generous act for each other...I'd ask more, but I ain't gonna push my luck. If you'd do this neat thing. That would seriously make me Happy. You'd actually dig it too!

That, and a Happy New Year.

.

..And don't drink, and drive or get into stupid fights or family scenes...what the heck's da matter with

you people. That's why you can't have nice things...com'on.

Well 'still' loves ya, and keep working on Fusion Energy. Besides Solar that stuff will have you all living like the "Jetson's" in no time.

That's all for now.

Peace.

"Snow -0"

It snowed on my window sill this evening.

The first real snow of the season. It's alright about the car. "Bob the Bunny" will dig it out in the morning.

On the job accident caught live above on camera!

I forgot that ice is slippery.

My window slipped, and came down on my hand.

Crap!