Metallic Thuds

Rape on Lena Ave.

“The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
We gather every day;”

−by Cecil Frances Alexander

Let me tell you a story about how messed up our city and county are in Los Angeles. Especially “STREET SERVICES.”

Right now, there is a war going on outside. Trucks are attacking our sleepy neighborhood to trim down our trees. We are talking massive trucks.

I talked to a Los Angeles County representative, and he told me the reason we were not notified weeks earlier about the colossal invasion of trucks, chainsaws, dinging, and loud bangs is because a Fire Marshal just a day ago decided that there is a fire hazard here in our neighborhood. Our trees are growing and causing an issue with the street sweepers. Tree branches are touching or contacting the street sweepers.

I called the local fire department and was told a Fire Marshal would not come out to do something like that. It would most likely be a local inspector. I don’t know. The Street Services were most likely not tell you the truth.

This is a fire hazard all of a sudden?

It was in November that I made a complaint to the county that our street sweepers were not coming. They had not been coming for some time. After about a month’s time I was told it was due to the trees’ overgrowth.

Also, I found out from an official Los Angeles Street Services worker that the street sweepers only come the first and third Wednesday of every month. Even though they triage as well. We were not notified about any of this. We were not notified about today as well.

The trees could have gently and consistently been trimmed over time. Yet that would take city and or county planning. Something I have observed is that the “STREET SERVICES” does not have. Which is the foresight to plan.

The problem is that the law that enforces the signs on our street “Parking Violation” is giving us tickets. Even though the signs are not valid on our street. No street sweepers and police enforcement still will write up tickets. That seems illogical to me.

The street signs say every Wednesday from 12 to 2 PM. One cannot park on the street, or your car will be ticketed.

Today the new signs, put on with a wire, say cars will be towed away. Which is always a thousand dollar fine or more.

So, I asked many departments and city officials who manage this issue to change the signs or at least take down the signs, so my neighbors and I do not get 70-dollar tickets. Until all the LOS ANGELES city or county departments become organized. To unify!

Yet it has come down to this. The “STREET SERVICES” is doing this without considering the environment. This is an attack on my neighborhood. The ravens, birds, and bees who we share a neighborhood live here too. The cats and dogs who also live here, not to forget the raccoons, possums, and other wild things who are perchance abruptly losing their homes.

It is a rape of our neighborhood. It feels like that to me. This is much worse than having a tooth pulled. That feels like rape too. Just yellow trucks, metallic thuds, loud chainsaws, and the loud sound of stump grinders.

Those to bitch at…

https://councildistrict12.lacity.gov/about/council-district-12/west-hills

https://streetsla.lacity.org/

To all the trees and a neighborhood raped today and the poor old trees cut down without a blessing…. how lost we are as a culture…

A doodling film and song by Hudley Flipside .

Song Persephone moans her pain.

A penny for your small mushroom.

Thursday funnies from yours truly the Flopside Crew at Flopside cOmics.

It is like he is an Ace in the Hole… We all know he is a monster… yet he continues… he should be in jail. Or taken to some jail in a foreign country… no due process for him. Take his gold-plated white house and give all the gold back to the poor. He does not pay taxes… he needs to go now.

Mr. Fuck reflects on when he ran for president. He has many words of wisdom based on free shots of whiskey.

After a gulp of Whiskey…. Mr. Fuck speaks…

“I am often concerned for those who have the power to make Trump accountable but just let him keep talking. His lies are amplified, and his greed is self-evident, and his family is making huge profits on “we the people” … and he holds many countries in a state of hostile takeover with his god-awful tariffs.

This all started on the back of women who had their rights taken away from them. Roe v. Wade overturned. These conservatives! Damn them! Let’s see the list!”

He takes another nip of Midleton very rare housed in his bomb shelter, against the cold of weather and soul….

“Trump is a son of a bitch and even his mother is a thousand times better than he will ever be. Rest her soul. He is the scum of the earth with the power that needs to be taken from him and all of his sick fucks who follow his every word. They are lost… dead and are without a conscience. And if there is a hell they will be found boiling in its Purgatory.”

Dancing in a square room with Mr. Fuck and Mr. Crap.

Happy holidays…

A limerick from Mr. Fuck and Mr. Crap

A whiskey shot will do

A wrestle with an opossum too

Berries in my pudding

And rum in my cake

I will eat my

Fresh baked soul cake.

Freedom grows

When our conscience knows

The devil be gone.

We got to move on

Tickle Rudolph’s nose

We are smart

Love grows in the

COCKLES OF THE HEART!

The cockles of our hearts

Fresh baked soul cake!

Charles Tatum : When they bleached your hair, they must have bleached your brain too.

“Tatum gets work from his the local newspaper, but finds that there’s not much in the way of pressing news. However, when Tatum catches wind of a treasure hunter (Richard Benedict) trapped in a mineshaft, he turns the story into a media sensation. Soon Tatum is using unscrupulous tactics to draw out the situation, an approach that comes back to haunt him.” -Ace In the Hole.

“To draw out the situation.” The only reason Trump is not hugging his bunk in prison right now is because he creates a “media sensation.” The media is using him like the “treasure hunter trapped in a mineshaft.”

And we all know how the film Ace in the Hole (1951) ends.

“Leo (treasure hunter) begins to become ill as time passes and his health decides the futures of those making a profit from his demise.”

The case of the small mushroom…

William Blake at the Getty Center

Hear the cutting of the trees,

The loud metal machines.

shredding softer bark and home

Of birds and Opossum.

Nature is often raped.

And with no thought

But a job to be done.

No morality or awareness

Kindness or prayer.

My heart breaks.

Again, and aging.

So, I offer this prayer.

To the trees

Of the east, south, west, and north…

I love you and I am sorry.

That so many humans

Are so cruel and uncaring and slow to your suffering.

Holly D. Cornell 3/21/2024

William Blake

I asked two people what brought them to see Blake today ?

An older man with a cane and a hat looked at me obtrusively and said,

“Why not?”

A middle aged woman told me,

“I have been drawn to the colors in his watercolors.”

A man with a bright English dialect was very polite when we shared some words in front of Blake’s Divine Comedy watercolors.

“Larger than I suspected.” I declared.

He responded,

“I am here with my daughter and her friend. I think he will like this. His name is Dante.”

I danced through the images as I scanned it all with my soul’s eye!

So much Blake is like too much cake.

I’ve spent the next day reviewing and recovering.

I did not find his glowing eyes nor did I see an angelic being.

There in the museum,

as I do in my simple imagination.

Content.

#WorldPoetryDay 3/21/2024

Berlin is on my mind…Feeling Bitchin’

1984: An unknown German Punk with Mom.

Travel Memories: Berlin in the 1980s

Punk Culture in Berlin

During their travels in the 1980s, my parents explored the vibrant city of Berlin. One memorable moment was when my dad captured a photograph of a punk, accompanied by my mom. This photo represents a unique glimpse into Berlin’s alternative scene at the time.

Spreading the Flipside Fanzine

While traveling, my parents actively distributed Flipside Fanzines. Sharing these publications allowed them to connect with others who appreciated underground music and culture, further enriching their travel experiences.

He has a Charged GBH “Give Me Fire” T-Shirt with Jock Blyth on the front. How cool is that. What a great punk rock synchronicity.

On Monday I watched Rachel on MSMBC and the first word out of her mouth was Berlin.

“Rachel Maddow looks at a murder in Berlin, Germany that U.S. officials believe was a Russia-sanctioned assassination and notes that Russia’s past reticence to commit killings in Western countries appears to have faded, raising concerns about the recently outed Russian spy living in the United States.”

Then the weekend before I was watching an old TCM film. And a friend on Facebook said she did not have TCM and would love to have it. I then thought to myself I would sure love to go to Berlin, but I just cannot. As I looked up to the TV screen, I heard, from the 1932 film Back Street, Walter Saxel say,

“Would you like me to take you to Berlin?”

I said yes. And realize this synchronicity only rubs me the erroneous way out of anticipation.

Then to really get my goat last night I was watching one show on TV. One of my late-night bedtime rituals. The continuity of watching an episode of the sitcom Hogan’s Heroes. Of course, the whole focus tonight was on Berlin.

“Bad Day in Berlin”

“Hogan’s Heroes: Season 4, Episode 11″Hogan’s Heroes” Bad Day in Berlin (TV Episode 1968).”

Again, Berlin is on my mind. I googled and read about it and reflected on its history.

Currently it is for me about the good feeling of accomplishments and the rewards of following a project through to its end. It is what it is but seems my psyche is having fun playing with me through multiple synchronicities.

Maybe a nice finish with an Oktoberfest beer this weekend.

“TOO DRUNK TO WATCH” Punkfilmfest Berlin.

Feeling Bitchin’

Click on image below to buy a mug or T-Shirt that Hudley is wearing above on her T-Shirt …

Now for free viewing on my YouTube Channel….

To Prometheus and his Fennel staff of Fire… thanks!

Holding Integrity Up

Trusting my insight and foresight has been a struggle for me. Often, I let others push me off my mark due to facts and figures that oppose my observations.

A current adventure with our internet service and adjourning phone line is my issue today.

I’ve been paying the same amount since we set up the service. I then noticed September’s bill increase by about twenty dollars.

I called my service to ask why in August after I got the bill. It was explained to me that the company decided to up an overall five dollar increase to all their customers who use their phone service. This of course increased many other things. The dynamo increase of those pesky taxes too.

So I nicely had the phone taken off our plan. I talked to a nice representative and technician who did the work and told me that September’s bill would decrease, and I would pay less.

I told the representative,

“I only receive robot calls from the same companies and scams. I then must play the nasty game of telling them I am from Mars.”

She laughed at that and understood.

I know the bill is due today and had not received a notice or new bill. I went online to see our bill, and nothing had changed. So, in my little “good grief,” I called the server back once more.

I was told in an argumentative debate that they base their bills on “prorating” the past month.

“The practice of prorating can apply in many areas, from billing for services to paying out dividends or allocating business partnership income. Pro rata is calculated by dividing the instance of an item by the maximum quantity of that item. This ratio can then be applied to any related item to find the same proportion.”

I told this person that is not what I was told. They told me when I cancelled the service that I would not have to pay the full amount and then I would receive a new bill for September.

They did the run around or indirectly blamed me for not listening to them. Yet I felt like they were not listening to me and trying to get me to agree with them even though my guts knew they were bold face liars.

I think I talked to a supervisor who was the same. So, after some debate she told me she would do me a favor and give me a onetime discount waiver.

“I sure had to work hard for those twenty dollars.”

I paid the whole bill anyway out of that shadowy doubt of guilt.

I called back again to see if in fact I got that waiver and if in fact the phone line was cancelled.

The new representative told me that it was all good and told me how my bill next month included the waiver. This means I got my money back.

I told the conversation I had with another representative who told me that I would have to pay the full amount this month due to the word “prorating.”

She then told me an amazing thing. That they do not do that and that they go by each month. So, I was in fact told a lie. We laughed over it, and I filed a complaint that did go forward to the other representative. I felt good about that.

This new representative had style. She told me to look on my bill on page four and so I did and read this,

“… in accordance with the…. Conditions of Service, …. Services are billed on a monthly basis.”

Yes, no mention of prorating.

I had a wonderful moment.

The moral of this real-life experience is this, if you don’t say something and just let someone else tell you something else for you to believe, believe in yourself first. Don’t be bullied, influenced, or rejected without following through to the wonderful conclusion in believing in yourself.

Ya it was all over twenty bucks, might have well been one million dollars or the good feeling of holding integrity up for the losers to see, since they don’t have any.

1972 a very good year…

A night out on the town before a California hurricane !

Duley Toledo, Joey Rimicci, John Cornell and Hudley

As we were getting hit by rain

And during an earthquake

Those creative endeavors help.

The good bridge of balance

The William Blake Tarot Cards of the creative Imagination `- ED Buryn

Foresight, foreknowledge, prescience, divination, premonition, clairvoyance, presentiment. omniscience, sixth sense.

I was born with foresight. It was a natural part of my DNA, and it cursed me because no one from my family explained it to me. I found the answers through books, TV and others with this value of seeing life.

A curse because there are things in our lives that hold certain degrees of pain that cling to us. For me it was foresight. Knowing things before they happened. An intuitive knowing that plagued me without being able to put words to what it was.

Then in time I learned to hold on to my foresight. Waiting for found explanation to my confusion. Other friends and family looked at me cross-eyed with wonder or doubt.

Now that I am 65 years old, I see it as a gift of foresight, for that is what it is now, it reveals to me that I was OK.

I can use my active imagination to go back and be the person that listens and tries to understand. Because the youthful me needs to be heard.

It has come around to be a blessing that I will confirm as good. Now is a time to reap what I have sown. Building on this magical nature that many of us share.

It is my Cornish character, maybe. I hope to encourage others here to listen to their foresight. It is so human and feminine. An honorable part of who we are.

To bend back and embrace all the past, present and future.

The good bridge of balance.

William Blake is a friend who helped me along the way to believe…

William Blake died on August 12th 1827.

https://blakesociety.org/product/meeting-blakes-grave/

Vein of Gold Enduring, The Flipside Fanzine Story.

I was thinking about what is left over from work done or from one’s own experience. This reflection often leads me to reminisce about a vivid scene from the Musical Film Paint Your Wagon, where a clever scheme is devised to gather all the gold that inevitably falls beneath the bars and saloons.

In this bustling world of miners, many suffer the unfortunate fate of losing their precious gold dust in the hustle and bustle of their daily lives. The image of them unknowingly parting with their hard-earned riches is striking, emphasizing how easy it is to overlook valuable aspects of our own experiences and endeavors.

It raises intriguing questions about the opportunities we may be missing, the hidden gold beneath the surface that we often disregard or take for granted. This clever scheme not only serves as a means to accumulate wealth but also a reminder that sometimes prosperity is found in the forgotten corners of our lives, a smart way to get rich or collect from what is unknowingly or unsparingly left behind.

That is what it is like for me now as I gather my Flipside Fanzine gold that is dissected all over the place. I know I will never get rich from my gossamer shining memories or documentation of a scene during my youthful rebellion, but it seems to go on shimmering everywhere. It has a real story and narrative that I still gather.

I cannot put back together the vein of gold enduring as a solid experience that was documented but I can try and show my story, the Flipside Fanzine story, as it happened, and this is important to me. I can be a magnet pulling the gold of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine towards me and alchemize the authentic narrative to share. A richness like gold that will endure.

Finalist In Art Competition: Superior and the best of human nature.

* I placed as a Finalist in the April 2023 Competition. So much art… yet the renegotiation is satisfying. Below is the inspiration. A quote from a book.

“One day, having noticed my covetous gaze, he presented me with a tiny golden pendant of my own-two bees entwined together around a tiny honeycomb. It glistened in the sun light, so rich and burnished that I thought the minute drop of honey would melt and slide away in the heat.”

Daedalus gives Ariadne a gift. ~ Ariadne Page 7, by Jennifer Saint.

“Entries from many countries across the world: South Korea, Hong Kong, Ukraine, USA, Taiwan, Austria, Italy, Canada, Poland, Singapore, South Africa and Portugal. Enjoy the show and thank you for expressing an interest in our competition.”

I have often been afraid or uneasy or did not believe in competition. The means of doing anything is an obligation I took for myself and the world a long time ago. Acknowledgement is a new feeling for me, and I like it.

What really turns me on here is that so many countries unite through sharing their art in a competition without hate or dismay. That the world can join here in peace and beauty and reflection.

This is so good. That is why I love my WordPress site. It lets individuals communicate all around the world. Communication is the key to peace and though we can get angry, expression is always best. Creative expression is our superior and the best of our collective human nature.

It says pencil in the competition. It is pencil, sharpie pen ink and watercolor.

https://www.greycubegallery.com/current-show/index.html

Flipside Fanzine, My Aim Is True

1980 Hudley Flipside

My obligation to Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. (1977 to 2002)

As a co-publisher, editor of Flipside Fanzine I hold to my heart a need to protect and preserve the memory of this Fanzine. Being its roughly 20 years of existence.

How it is presented to the world is important to me. At one time Flipside Fanzine supported a beginning and then growing underground, and international, punk rock scene.

Over the last few years, I have had bands, record labels, writers and major movie companies approach me for images for their work and/or production pertaining to Flipside Fanzine. I engage the many demands in a proper and organized manner.

There is not another Flipside person who has stepped forward to engage this pressure.

My intentions are good for Flipside Fanzine, and I will continue to protect it as best I can. I hold good integrity too. I can choose with whom I share or sell things from this Fanzine.

Even if I know that some book publishers share Flipside material without due respect, most the time Flipside is mentioned as original source… sometimes but not always.

Be it the fanzine itself, videos, or records. I am under an umbrella of protection, and I can release things for such productions as I always mention those involved at the time if they are dead, or otherwise, or do not want to be bothered. Flipside was a fast moving fanzine with many who did willfully engage freely in its creative life time.

I love Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. It is ironic to me, but Flipside’s created products become more precious with time. Everything Flipside “produced and created” is becoming more in demand.

In its publishing history there have only been two owners of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine, its “living publishing time,” Al Flipside (Al Kowalewski) and me Hudley Flipside (Holly D Cornell).

I promise to do my best with all of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine documented materials and all products over its full life. Yet now it is a defunct fanzine and we only see it as a history of what once was and so many of its creations still shine in many corners of the world.

My Aim Is True,

Hudley Flipside / Holly D Cornell

The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing

hudleyflipside@gmail.com

https://hudleyflipside.com

Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine the Narrative Documentary / Film. Epeisodion ONE

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2. Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine the Narrative Documentary / Film. Epeisodion TWO

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created Monday June 26, 2023, 11:30:44 AM

3. Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine the Narrative Documentary / Film. Epeisodion THREE

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The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing

Don’t be shy to leave a review… for your free viewing pleasure.

Art Mineral Film

Do you remember those art films you watched in class in elementary school. They got me to wondering just like a mystery or scary film. So, I decided to engage those memories with my own art mineral film.

Youngest son had to go study minerals and gems … a fun day at the LA Museum but both the LA Memorial Coliseum and Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County are surrounded by poverty and such a treacherous drive to get there.

The duality of life is witnessed! Many older women wait at the bus stop, as fast cars cut corners in the pursuit of oblivion? Strange dark corners in old broken apartments hold desperation or reflection as I see!

In return the big rich donors to the museum are great, as the surrounding community lacks such concern!

Happy unaware children and babies and a history of preservation even on a hooked tip of a once weaponized airplane!

The beetle bug and the worm, it turned out pleasant for them.

Beetle Bug in our garden.

beetle bug

After opening the bathroom drawer up on the Q-Tips box was a large beetle bug. I think we both were surprised. I swooped it up to the ground and got my two sleeping kitty girls. I know this is their favorite pass time going after bugs that enter the house. I am guilty because I’m prejudice on how cats think over the needs of this bug.

As the two girls altered to attention and moved towards the bug it was not a long chase. Seems beetle turned around and pinched one of the girls. End of their engagement. Yet over the week the two kitties did keep beetle bug in the bathroom.

Youngest son and I did some cleaning in the bathroom and did not find beetle bug. So, I put a small plastic container in the bathroom in case the bug showed up.

Beetle bug was there one day in the bottom closet and seemed to be waiting for me. Husband and I caught the bug and put the creature outside on the grass near the rosemary bush.

Hungry as if the beetle bug came upon the biggest smorgasbord in town. Embracing a purple anarchy flower, grass and leaves, this beetle bug’s feast began. Beautiful little beetle bug is now free.

worm

While walking around the block. A break from the rain. I saw a worm halfway across the cement walkway. Knowing about other people walking, dogs and wild things, it seemed like this little creation did not have much of a chance of survival. I often find rolled up ones dried from the heat.

I tried to gently hold the little worm that was very long. He was slimy, grey, and untouchable. So, I grabbed a small leaf and got him and softly put him on the earth near a bush.

The worm slowly moved with all its body’s muscles into the darkness of the earth. Only leaving the tip of a tail. I smiled and touched it saying loudly,

“BOOP!”

With boundless rapidity the little worm pulled a worm tail into the safety of the dark grassy earth and was gone.

Title X funding

If women and men and all those in between and around, don’t fight for their rights, be it small or major world changing … unfortunately there are nut jobs ready to take over the world in a very unfair, crazy, and fascist way. Most of them have lost their ability to discern and hold to a propaganda or support system that is a dark, fear inspired, hate and stupidity blended homogeneous in their coffee coffee. They are drinking it down…

No American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.

~ Richard Nixon

Dorothea: What is that?

Abbie: It’s The Raincoats.

Dorothea: Can’t things just be pretty?

Jamie: Pretty music is used to hide how unfair and corrupt society is.

Dorothea: Ah, okay so… they’re not very good, and they know that, right?

Abbie: Yeah, it’s like they’ve got this feeling, and they don’t have any skill, and they don’t want skill, because it’s really interesting what happens when your passion is bigger than the tools you have to deal with it. It creates this energy that’s raw. Isn’t it great?

~ 20^th Century Women

When I was growing up my dad would not let us talk politics, religion, or science fiction. We lived in a male dominated world and that was how it was. When the 70’s hit things started to change. When the civil rights movement grasped the main media in the late 1960s and the women’s rights movement in the 1970s, it changed the main media exchange and life became a real lesson on our human rights.

“Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973), was a landmark decision of the U.S. Supreme Court in which the Court ruled that the Constitution of the United States generally protects a pregnant woman’s liberty to choose to have an abortion.”

As a young lady Planned Parenthood clinics became available to us all over the USA and beyond.

“Planned Parenthood has received federal funding since 1970, when President Richard Nixon signed into law the Family Planning Services and Population Research Act, amending the Public Health Service Act. Title X of that law provides funding for family planning services, including contraception and family planning information. The law had support from both Republicans and Democrats. Nixon described Title X funding as based on the premise that “no American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.”

I have a friend who I grew up with who plays by the extreme conservative playbook. Where civil rights and a woman’s rights are changing for the worst. She did not want to have children, so she consciously got sterilized. When I was about 18 after being group raped and then having an abortion, I too almost took that measure. Yet I am glad I did not. I now have two sons that I can’t imagine living life without.

Now in some states she could not have that right to choose, nor I for that matter. God did not strike us down for our decisions.

Yet now she supports a political agenda hurriedly ascending to take away those rights, well it does not make sense.

It is like seeing a big image of Nixon on the back of a stage with Kari Lake foaming at the mouth with her anti humanity propaganda. They don’t make sense. It is absurd.

How do you reason with a drunk dad who is calling you a moron when you want to watch Star Trek.? You can’t.

20th Century Women (2016) was not a big film, but it holds a high degree of foresight about what was coming and is right upon us now, again. It tells a narrative rich and believable and endearing. And yes, I got to work with the production to share a image but it is an image that is endearing to me.

It was my story about being a woman in the late 1970s and how one image was used, and I never got credit for it, until in the ending credits of this awesome film. I could not think of a better way to achieve my goal. Which makes the film so special to me and that I took my two boys to see it when they both were still living at home. A special time to teach my boys about women, civil rights, and the early punk scene. But most importantly about what it is like being a mom.

In conclusion as a mama, punk, one who supports civil rights and a woman’s right to choose, to one who wants national healthcare for all, I just had to set the scene straight… there is something off here in the time we are witnessing, and it is not good.

2016 Film 20TH CENTURY WOMEN

Having a Bit of Fun Video A Happy Celebration of Time Shared on this weird planet…

“But how do you thank someone

Who has taken you from crayons to perfume?

It isn’t easy, but I’ll try

If you wanted the sky

I would write across the sky in letters

That would soar a thousand feet high

“To sir [s], with love.”

That crazy Godzilla Punk Rock Night Club in Sun Valley is where I first saw GBH’s – Leather, Bristles, Studs and Acne spray painted on the wall.

I was then in search and found the vinyl and became a fanatic. 44 years now for me.

The album City Babys Revenge is one of the best sounds of punk rock! The band and songs are phenomenal. A forty-year celebration. I got the vinyl from Zed Records of Long Beach and played it loads. Yet seeing (Charged) GBH live was just the best experience I had as a young punk bird. They still thrill me as an old crone owl.

A hardy band that still tours around the world and I think they are indestructible. I really do!

Colin Abrahall

A bit of history in front of Perkins Palace Pasadena mid 1980s.

A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus

In Greek religion, the staff was carried by the votaries of Dionysus. Euripides wrote that honey dripped from the thyrsos staves that the Bacchic maenads carried. The thyrsus was a sacred instrument at religious rituals and fêtes.

Light and shadow magic comes to visit at different times in life.

The wind was strong and pushed over my angel solar light. I just got home from shopping as I was looking up at Jupiter and the waxing moon.

I have been changing my routines a bit. I go shopping at dusk now and take my showers in the morning or in the middle of the day.

Taking morning walks is something different too.

When I saw the angel at an angle, I ran to fix it when I noticed the shadow playing on the wall behind it.

I said aloud, “A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus.”

I will let the angel be.

I took a picture and played with the image on Adobe Photo Express.

These chaos ministers

A Minister of Chaos is dead.

Absence of human conscience and consciousness.

“The Double does not exist only as an Ahrimanic shadow in individual men. There are members in this Doppelgänger sub-hierarchy of far greater power who act as the anti-spirits of peoples, nations, and races.

And finally, there is the World Doppelgänger, the Anti-Spirit of Humanity, which plays its historic role as a servant of Lucifer in opposing the rightful evolution of human consciousness.”

Pg. 291 The Spear of Destiny, Trevor Ravenscroft.

Taken from The Terrible Death Bubble Gum Comic A Flopside COmic!

“I am the spirit that negates,

And rightly so, for all that comes to be

Deserves to perish wretchedly;

‘Twere better nothing would begin.

Thus everything that your terms, sin,

Destruction, evil represent—

That is my proper element.”

― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust – Part One

Friday night was time to go out and celebrate because my man was winning a Chess tournament online. Youngest son, my man, and I made three. We went to the local Pub and then bar to celebrate properly.

We played darts at the Pub and had some healthy “Humulus lupulus” while listening to real records. The hiss and scratches and well listened to 45s made the music more enjoyable to me. Soul, ska, and other melodies moved through the Pub and lots of hugs were shared.

At the next-door bar, we had some cocktails and enjoyed the slow ambiance of a well-loved bar. Nice and easy with an anime film on the screen. A break from the usual sports in most bars.

As we were finishing, I looked over to see a man with a beard. Brown and friendly looking. We smiled in what I thought was a happy nod of enjoyment.

He came up to us as my youngest son got up to take care of business. Then the man walked over to my man and me.

“Not just Jews were killed in WWII by the Nazis.”

We responded with a knowing agreement. Then he went on.

“My great grandfather saved a whole lot of people. Christians mostly and not many Jews.”

Seems this guy was reflecting upon his grandfather and WWII.

“You liberals think it was only Jews. You who voted for Biden and Kamala Harris!”

We then got a little confused and I said,

“How do you know who we voted for?”

Then he addressed me directly,

“Who did you vote for?”

“None of your business!”

We batted that back and forth a few moments.

Then came the flip into a world of conspiracies and insanity when he looked at me and addressed me singularly.

“You liberal voting people think only the Jews were killed in concentration camps. But you are the real Nazis.”

“How do you go from talking about WWII and then accuse me of being a Nazi?”

I then put my hand on the table with a whack. Telling him about how my dad got a purple heart as a captain pilot during WWII.

Then I explained myself by saying,

“I respect that your grandfather saved many lives during the war from concentration camps. Yes, there were all sorts of people who died there, and the people were also saved. Gypsies, Christians, Jewish people,

I really don’t think it mattered who you were or your faith. Hitler killed anyone opposed to his belief system of inhumanness.”

The man with the beard seemed filled with total contrary ideas that made no sense but only served to confuse and attack others who he found offensive. He is one of the “ministers of chaos.” Who spreads their hate talk.

It was a really sad moment of the evening, and when he told me he did not give a fuck about Iranian women’s demands for freedom I turned my back to him and walked away with hands up.

Youngest son confused him by saying,

“I didn’t vote for Biden.” (Just to see the bearded mans confused expression of an unexpected answer.) And added,

“Thanks for the story.”

Nothing that going to Denny’s didn’t wash away fast…

At Denny’s restaurant, youngest son was laughing and said,

“I was staring at the tiles in the bathroom and then I walked out, and you were talking to this guy. It was a weird thing to walk into….”

He really enjoyed the contrary people we met last night between the pub and the bar. We have not gone back since.

“Alister Crowley adopted different identities when the mood struck him-and, like Trump, did his best to keep his name in the newspapers-and chaos magick asserts that one’s identity is malleable, that one should “reinvent’ oneself often, play different roles. We should pretend to be someone else, to envision a “magical self” possessing all the qualities that we desire, something that some New Thought advocates also suggest .

Chaos magick also promotes the idea of using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power,” something that, as with much else about chaos magick, seems to come to Trump naturally.”

Pg. 76-77, Dark Star Rising, Gary Lachman

These chaos ministers are a part of

WE THE PEOPLE,

They are out there,

and it is something to be aware of,

Even at the local bar.

Does George Santos ring a bell?

He is a manifestation of this “Crazy un-Wisdom” of “Chaos magic!”

Seems it is what it is.

In a bar in the San Fernando Valley California

To the House of Representatives

And some Senators…

bewildering our beloved District of Columbia,

these dark spirits or anti-humans are hanging around,

spreading their chaos,

chanting their bullcrap chaos magic.

Using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power!”

May 7, 1945 … yesterday some celebrated Germany officially surrendering to the Allies, bringing an end to the European conflict in World War II. Churchill gives his V for victory salute! Yet in truth it is much more than that! If you don’t believe in magic listen up ! Some symbols are powerful.

This image or salute was given to Winston Churchill by Aleister Crowley, occultist, ceremonial magician, poet, to protect him ( his country.. the world) from the diobolical depth of the Nazi Party . History is what it is. I made up a few badges … I use it against Trump 👽

Bubblegum Flopside cOmics… so

sweet and bitter WHEELING AND DEALING

I saw something unexpected today. Billy Idol got a star on Hollywood Blvd. and Mr. Henry Rollins was the presenter. I saw the photograph on a site. Now and then I do like to reflect on my punk rock glory days.

I think upon these two characters that influenced us by their music or words in a big way. I knew them, as many of us did, as youths with deep and high ideals that I once respected.

I met Billy after he left Generation X.

He visited Hollywood. A group of us youthful rebellious punks were talking about music. We were in the back of a liquor store waiting for some beer because we were not 21 yet. Someone was WHEELING AND DEALING with the booze scheme. Billy and I were talking about the Beatles and how much he loved them. He then cried on my shoulder stating to me that he missed his mates back home.

The beer arrived and a friend of mine whisked him away and that was the only time I met him. Over the years when I see him or hear his music, I often reflect back upon that sweet young kid who was kind of lost.

Henry was a wild youth too. He was kind of funny and thoughtful when I first met him. Yet as time went on our friendship soured. I think it was due to a subscription to Flipside Fanzine he never received because his letter fell behind my desk. Maybe the critical reviews I did of him in Black Flag were thought to be unfunny. His lack of humor made it easy to accelerate into doom.

Funny how a guy from England and a guy from DC can be standing on the grounds whereas young punks, who grew up here, used to run wild on those same streets. Then no need, or sense of fame or fortune.

Once equals as friends and fans of the punk scene, they got bigger, and we got smaller. Yet I think I am happy with my place in the world, and I hope they are too.

The sweet and bitter is what punk rock left me. As a punk rock fanatic,

That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise
~ The apartment (by Billy Wilder, 1960)

A reflection of making it through Covid-19 from a more esoteric and psychological perspective.

Eve Tempted by the Serpent

William Blake (1757–1827)

Photo credit: Victoria and Albert Museum, London

“There are two things’ children should get from their parents: roots and wings.”

~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

“E: I have already uttered the words, The image that I saw was crimson, fiery colored, a gleaming gold. The voice that I heard was like distant thunder, like the wind rearing in the forest, like an earthquake. It was not the voice of my old God. It was a thunderous pagan roar, a call my ancestors knew but which I have never heard. It sounded prehistoric, as if from a forest on a distant coast; it rang with all the voices of the wilderness. It was full of horror yet harmonic.”

Pg. 237 [v.6] C.G. Jung The Black Books.

As a student of esoteric studies, and lay person of depth psychology, I learned about our vital bodies. We have our physical body, our vital body and our desire and mind body. Four bodies superimposed on us as we are awake living our lives.

At night, I have learned, when we go to sleep something amazing happens to us. Our desire and mind bodies disengage from our physical and vital bodies. All bodies are connected by sturdy life threads. Life sustaining.

It is at this time in sleep the physical body is free from desire body and mind body engagement so the vital body can heal our physical body. The mind and desire bodies float above us like balloons on long strings as the vital body does its healing panacea. Assimilating, regenerating, and eliminating is the work of our vital body.

We are like trees, often unconscious, reaching deep with our roots into our earth mother and reaching up to the sun and the cosmos bringing in sunlight. This is when we learn about the wonderful relationship we have with other planets. But mostly our bodies recover from the damage incurred throughout the day by simply living our life.

Having Covid-19 I have experienced the powerful work of my own vital body. It is so important to sleep when one has Covid-19.

It was hard to sleep for me. The pain, the fever, the fear was overwhelming. Yet when I did, I felt like a tree and the power work of sleeping happened. Waking up many times as if I went for a swim. And after such nights when I did sleep, I felt better.

Once I experienced a kaleidoscope of coughing over and over with visions of myself… it was how the world outside of me and inside of me merged. There was a battle going on. And for those of us who shared this battle you know this experience as well.

“The vital body, on the other hand, has no other interest than the preservation of the dense vehicle. By way of the spleen, it specializes in the colorless solar energy which pervades space, and by some strange chemical process transforms it into a vital fluid of a beautiful pale rose color, sending it along every nerve and fiber of the body. The vital body ever aims to husband the energy it has stored in the dense body. It is constantly concerned in rebuilding the tissues when they are broken down and destroyed by the powerful onslaughts of the rampant desire body.”

~ THE VITAL BODY BY MAX HEINDEL

The spleen is the largest organ of the lymphatic system. Located in the upper left region of the abdominal cavity, the spleen’s primary function is to filter blood of damaged cells, cellular debris, and pathogens such as bacteria and viruses. Like the thymus, the spleen houses and aids in the maturation of immune system cells called lymphocytes. Lymphocytes are white blood cells that protect against foreign organisms that have managed to infect body cells. Lymphocytes also protect the body from itself by controlling cancerous cells. The spleen is valuable to the immune response against antigens and pathogens in the blood.

Having all the vaccines I chose not to get the PAXLOVID. I don’t do well with side effects.

At this time of the year the veil between the living and the dead is so thin. Dreams are intense yet with Covid-19 my mind is weak. Yet last night I do remember the end of my dream.

I was in a large, lovely field. Maybe the place of my ancestors, Cornwall, England. It was dusk or maybe the sun was just rising. A slight mist was in the air. I was waiting to catch the vampires. I got to see them outside of my body. We stood there all looking at each other and aware.

I saw at least three or four hovering, lingering in this vast open field. I was there to conquer them.

I awoke.

Today I feel much better. I only share the feelings left of a body that battled and won. A sore back and chest. A sore throat that once was tight with heat. And then signs of a cold are slowly disappearing. Fatigued but here to live another day.

I think of all the cowboy fights I watch on my favorite show Gunsmoke. Right after a fight of getting his ass kicked, a cowboy walks up into the bar and orders a whiskey. Then powers it down, walks out and gets on his horse and rides away. No problem!

Reb Kittredge: I ran into a little trouble this morning. I had to leave my horse back up the trail.

Rita: If I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I’d say you still had him with you.

~Gunsmoke

Randomness

Today while driving home from shopping. I saw the mail person next door delivering mail. He is rather new. I miss my mail girlfriend who I saw all over the neighborhood delivering mail even during the heart of the Covid-19 pandemic.

This fellow is sweet. He often makes corner turns on lawns and jumps over bushes. The mail man is small with a black beard, regardless he is a welcomed mail person.

Today I waited in my car as he walked along the path to our home. He stopped to answer his phone. A letter fell to the ground.

He looked over at me and I pointed down with my finger. He smiled and proceeded to deliver our mail. I got out of my car and walked over to the letter.

Upside down on the cement walkway with the newly fallen golden leaves it was singular in its significance. It was a simple personal letter addressed from one person to another.

I thought to myself,

“It is nice to see people still writing letters to each other in simple white envelopes.”

As Mr. Mail Person walked up to me, I nicely stated that I found this and saw that it in fact dropped from his bag.

“I just got cataract surgery on both eyes, so now I see everything.”

Smiling he said,

“twenty-twenty..” As he pointed to his eyes.

“I am glad I was there to see the letter.”

I handed him the message.

As I drove up into my driveway, I began to carry the groceries and put them on my red brick porch, I noticed the familiar smell of cannabis.

I then reflected on the concept of randomness and being there at the right time and place. Mr. nice smiling guy mail person got the letter to be delivered again.

In my neighborhood on Thursdays gardeners work, and trash cans are put out. I am happy to say I was an invisible helper.

I hope.

This correspondence should reach its destiny.

So, I celebrate this nice synchronicity as words become alive and memories shine.

As for stories Dad was the best at keeping us kids interested. He had the gift and I guess he learned this from his mother. Who he said left poems on the refrigerator door just for him. Later she had her poems published in the weekly Santa Monica newspaper back in the late 40s and early 1950s.

It was my mom who asked me to never stop writing and always supported my endeavors.

I even fought and wrestled with the Flipside Fanzine crew to get a Poetry Page in Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. Pooch continued the poetry page after I left.

Flipside Fanzine Issues 57 Fall 1988

I love to write and especially love to write poetry. It is a time when magic happens. As human beings we naturally engage with memories, with the cosmos, and our feelings. Also, with those large uncontrollable metaphors like our professors tell us.

I was going through my notes and work and found this chapbook of poetry. I was surprised to see it was completed on the day September 17, 2018.

I will be talking this weekend. September 17, 2022. Telling stories with others. It feels great too to join in this narrative of speakers. At a cool pub. I can not think of a better place to talk. My youngest son told me this,

“Mom I just feel so comfortable in pubs, I dot know what it is but is just feels so good. I can just relax and have a pint. Listen to music and have fun.”

We could be talking about the pubs in the stories from Lord of The Rings to the history of William Blake’s’ family where the pub was so important in their freedom to speak and sing when the Church of England suppressed their views.

To the characters who linger, who come and go and grow from such a pub. Or simply to those who want to relax and hear a few stories.