"...planet"

“But on your tiny planet, my little prince, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like..."
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

"...shitting ya self"

"...shitting ya self"

I haven't looked in on the world for weeks. Yep still insane demented evil stupid, and not that funny. I imagine this is what it will be like after we drop dead. The papers two weeks later will be the same except for a change of victims names.

Also the weather sucks.

Warm for January real warm. However in other places record cold, and snow. Chaos. That's what Climate change is,...chaos. So we're still on schedule for early extinction of ourselves, and all them species we're taking with us.

Still I hold out for one decent big snow in NYC.

Granted this only happens once or twice a decade now, but I still hope. After that we can go direct to summer. I recall one year it was 26f snow drifts to my window on a Monday. The following Friday it was 81f humid, and raining. Chaos.

My health is a shit basket of agony piss crap trauma, and bills. Fuck it I mostly just lay here. The meds are frying my liver, and kidneys. "An acceptable risk" sez my doc who isn't taking none of this foul shit. They leaves me vomiting in pain always awake, and seeing spirits. ...or something.

As I sez to this, "...otherwise I'm fine".

All's well with the world in a few isolated remote safe locations.

Everywhere else is fucked.

Everything is a radioactive burning orphanage, and there's a madman in the White House,...I hear he wants to leave NATO now as well. 

Fuck'em. 

This is only part of #45's plan I like. I say cut them all loose. Let the Russians eat them alive. Europe despises us laughs at us uses us. #45 got all that right for of course the wrong reasons.
When Russian tanks come, and they call for us to rescue them,...again. Put'em on hold with Velvet Underground playing "Heroin" at them over, and over.

Mind you unlike other commies I don't want #45 impeached or removed in other sudden entertaining ways. Nah. Let him stay for the full Monty. Just with a grand-mal stroke that'll leave him shitting, and choking on his own blood for the rest of his life. 

I think that's fair.

Happy New Year, and a Happy Holidaze,...I missed both while I myself was choking on my own blood, and shitting myself in hospital.

What's good for the goose,...

"...hats"

"...hats"

At last I'm old sick, and broke.

Just like my favorite saint.

Walt Whitman.

So far so good.

He wore neat hats too.

"A Story"

"A Story"

For over a century, and a half we unknowingly called to the stars. We pleaded for attention with Morse Code Carrier Wave radio, and now Digital Bursts.  We even changed the spectrum of our atmosphere with industry. All this to mark our presence.

We called, and were heard.

As is their way the Star Folk sent an Envoy. This to hear our story not from our machines, but from ourselves. A vessel of bright shimmers there, but not moved undetected through the clouds. Like a hand passing through warm air.

It came to rest not at the Kremlin White House Versailles or even Disneyland. It settle a meter above the cracked pavement of a forsaken part of East Saint Louis, Illinois.

The Envoy disembarked, and floated to those watching. They were enveloped as with a mist. Their souls were asked for the story of Earth.

In response the Envoy was led to a battered Homeless Shelter. There the people said the truth of Earth could be found.

"...and a time for every purpose under heaven"

"...and a time for every purpose under heaven"

Hello my friends, and thank you for your concern.
Had a medical emergency. Some surgeries. Home now. Very tired Will tell the story as we go along. 

Loves you all,...to sleep.

There, and Back Again"...again.

There, and Back Again"...again.

I portaled. Day date set to random. July 1962. A newsstand proclaims Telstar. The very first Com-sat. Jumped a generation earlier. Smoke shadows. Lenox Avenue. The Great Harlem Riots 1935. Shimmered. August 16th 1:26 pm Jones Beach Long Island. I see my mother walking my toddler sister Sylvia by the shore.

Neon blur. 

The South Tower is collapsing down upon me. Shimmer,...Beaver Street lower Manhattan 1866. Freedmen coming, and going in their first months of Freedom.

...and again.

Home. My home my 'hood my digs. ...I'm not there. 
Haven't been I imagine for some time. Winter 2049. Warm humid. People dressed for summer. The shore of the Hudson closer.

At last I set my Dark Matter unit for Central Park. Just south of the Bridge. October 22nd 4:02pm 1956.
I come here often. There's peace in this time in these few acres. The climate not yet visibly changed. A chill in the air the colors at peak.

In my base time of 2019 it would still be warm with no colors whatever. In this "when" gents in fedora's women in skirts children in cowgirl, and cowboy outfits. I remember I had one too.

Wind color clouds.

All here enjoy the peace of not knowing what's coming, and little of what's happened.

I sat on a park bench dressed for 2019 yet as always in New York getting no notice. 

I slept.

(...I wrote this while in hospital.
I borrowed a pencil, and scribbled it on the back of a ward memo.
Sometimes you just have to write.)

"A Simple Yule Story"

"A Simple Yule Story"

(A mid-shipman Pip Christmas story for my friends, especially "Z". I make a cameo as his "Uncle'. The first stave of Pip's adventures is below this one. You may wish to start there.  
...also there's been a bit of time travel in these few lines. As Pip, and his ship are from 1904, and this story takes place in 2032. ...shit happens.)

The HMS Agamemnon ported at the isle of Turquoise Christmas eve. There was snow on the ground, and the winds were brisk. Passersby greeted one another heartfully. The spirit of Yule was well about.

As Dickens wrote. 

"Christmas is that one time in the rolling year when men, and woman from all circumstance open their shut up hearts to the world."

Young Pip on liberty walked up Algernon Hill. This to his Uncle's shop of "Bewildered Amazements".  All prices negotiable.  Pip banged the brass knocker whose shape changed as the wind blew against it. There opened was his dear Uncle.

Pip's old kindly generous often befuddled by the world "Uncle".

Surprised, and bearing a broad smile Uncle said, "...Pip! Ah! ...and a merry Yule to you. Come in child! '...in in in from the cold!"

"Hi Uncle!" Piped Pip his round glasses fogging from the warmth of the shop. Uncle,..."Aw bless you child. How happy I am to see you."

Laughter smiles, and ironic jibes followed. 

"Cider! we must have cider" happily bellowed uncle.  Pip, "...yes it was so cold coming up your hill." Uncle's apprentice Toby poking his head from a side door, "....Hey Pip",..."Hey Toby!

"Cider, and buttered buns!" said uncle.

Cider indeed! We need some Toby magic. Hot Christmas cider minted as only you can! "I'm on it" said Toby disappearing into the heart of this magical yet user friendly shop.

About time travel. 

Pip often brings items from the past for uncle's inspection. This is how he gets so many bewilderments for the shop. More in another story.

Old uncle took Pip's tunic, and gratefully accepted various items from Pip's century. They sat by the fireplace where they spoke of seas, and  ships cabbages, and kings madmen, and poets.

Then came Toby with three very large drafts of Minted Christmas Cider! All three souls sat together warm, and cozy as they sipped laughed burped, and laughed again.

Happy they were. 

Happy in each other's company. Happy with the world.  

Happy as they blessed all in it.

A Happy Yule to all.