I am finding Mr. Fuck has come out of his Bomb shelter to play… it has been awhile. He was pissed due to the fact that Mr. Shit’s theme song came out and no one cares about him anymore. So Mr. Shit and I got together and wrote a theme song for him.
Funny how creative endeavors come out to play again as one gets older. Mr. Shit and Mr. Fuck and I are feeling creative, silly and laugh a lot too.
I think about the song Puff the Magic Dragon and realize as I get older I am happy to find the call again of Puff’s gigantic roar and the song does not make me sad anymore.
“Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail.
Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff’s gigantic tail.
Noble kings and princes would bow whenever they came
Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name.”
Yes we all three agreed on this… so here is Mr. Fuck’s theme song that is well overdo.
“…When life is passing in the night, in the rushing night
A man, a woman in the night, in the lonely night
Must take a chance that in the light, in tomorrow’s light
They’ll be together, so much in love
Together, so much in love…”
Last night we were watching some CNN history book program. Unfortunately, I continued to listen to the next author’s memoir of his personal days with Ronald Reagan and side kick Nancy. I try to keep an open mind about these things. Oh boy, did I hear some amazing lies. What really got me thinking was what this speaker said about Ronald’s side kick Nancy. I guess, a media shot was needed that would project her as a housewife, or as a supporting and loving wife, who cooked in the kitchen. The story told was kind of said and kind of funny. It seems that side kick Nancy would not pose for her picture because she would not put on, or wear, an apron. This is what she said…
“Me cook, I never cooked a meal in my life!”
My mouth opened and I drooled a bit. It seems amazing to me. A truth that not many people would know about.
Side kick Nancy, actress, mother and wife…
never cooked a meal in her life.
I understand while living in the White House one’s needs are taken care of. Tax payers do pay for chefs, janitors, maids etc. It comes with the territory. I guess, this means she most likely never cleaned a toilet either?? (drum roll… and bang)
I plan, shop, cook and clean up for all of the meals in my home. I pay my taxes too. A mere weed and peasant I am; I am…
Life is a song, having a beginning, middle and end. A song has a soul each time you hear it. A song shares feelings and memories which awaken the life lived. A song holds on to experiences of good and the bad times! A song has a spirit which is eternally youthful, middle-aged, and old. A song ends as all living things. A song has all the qualities of life. A song amplifies us, the human being, who create the songs and those that resurrect listening to the songs … time and time again.
Da Capo Press is under a big black sky. Yes, it is good that we all have the freedom to share our stories. In the supermarket I seem to get some deep emotions pulled up. We are all visually abused at the checkout stand. As usual I had to turn the ugly Trump man image around. Was it Time, Time/Life, Rolling Stone, People are another big media cutaneous pig where I viewed his image, and by chance the inside front page had a book review? My brain sucked it in so fast and I did not want to read it… but it came at me like a kamikaze knife. “The real punk rock …,” “X and the Go-Go’s, “the beloved untouchable Minutemen.” Then there was the one image of Henry Rollins …. His bald head.
“It is a curse…”
I put my blueberries and tortillas on the checkout stand. I know how big media gets a review in such magazines. Is it an honest interview or is it a promotional piece, or a big advertisement? It all reeks and my heart break a bit to think about how the ‘young punk dead’ would rebel against this… as they did 30 years ago.
At Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine we had an endless supply of photos of all the punk bands. It was common underground weed photographs. Not for sale, or for a museum or for any uptown media DICKS. That was not our agenda.
Henry Rollins’s shaved head,
“Twenty something years ago; what issue was my review of Black Flag live in? A show where I called him a penis head?”
I think it was because he was one big muscle of sweat. It was meant to be a humorous blow from an underground nobody punker chick reviewing just another show. Henry took it like an evangelical’s literal agenda when reading the bible. He was not hip to Los Angeles yet.
By the time the punk scene hit the ‘80s there was a continuous explosion of riptide underground movements happening at the same time. Bands like X and the Go-Go’s went with the big labels. They left the underground punk scene and faded. A mirage in the desert of big media. We did not focus on them anymore.
Was it 12 years ago when the “Old-School” nostalgia punk thing started to happen? It has passed its peak baby. I was a silly doe when I approached Santa Monica Press and Feral House Publishing 12 years ago with my memoirs about the punk scene. No one was interested. I even shared my ideas with punk Icon Keith Morris. No dice…that is how vinyl melts… old school wise.
I am not bitter just sad. I find that some people are too eager to tell their story in a big way. Big promotional campaigns and all the media hype is a downer man. I wanted to write my memoir because I was concerned that the punk scene, as Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine, might be forgotten? Why am I so loyal …? I am still trying to figure it out!
What I have learned is this, I am more determined to do it myself now. DO It Myself BABY… locally and with my own media machine; a computer, scanner, and little art closet. I have my heavenly share of nasty sharpie pens, erasers, and pencils too. I’ll hang with a community of peasants that don’t really want to break the membrane into the realm of fame and stars on Hollywood. I’ll stay a bard of the earth and sky, in the alley .
One can view the original BAUBO PROTAGONIST in the collection of art on-line via Super-Sheroes. Below is the second and the third is on the way. Thanks goes to Flopside Comics and Mr. Fuck who is my all time muse and general asshole… and to the Hags!
It is a good thing to have the opportunity to be supported in this way. Take a view and have some fun.
Today while performing my shopping chores as part of my multitasking profession as a big mama mantis. I came to the checkout lane. There I was beholding to all the magazines before me. Cakes, ladies in low-cut dresses and The Pope. Oh boy was I delighted.
“Hey Miss if you haven’t started to load your groceries come on over here.”
I let the tan man holding a bag of ice go ahead and we followed. Oldest son was helping me today. He had a smirk on his face over what I just did previously. I try not to embarrass my children… yet as a repulsive creative anarchist my libido is now set on little humorous self-indulges.
My confession here is funny to me and eldest son did seem to make a little smirk like I wrote before.
Two magazines assaulted my beholding them. One was Mr. Pope on a magazine cover, and close by was a Miss. Revulsion model on a magazine cover. The image of Mr. Pope and what he represents as that Holy man of this earth; penetrated my consciousness with my resounding “N0”! Thousands of years scanned by my brain of all that patriarchy goo.
Then that lady with the purple dress posing with her trained model stance, a photo shopping glowing smile made me itch with revulsion. Two smiles from Mr. Pope and Miss. Revulsion model needed to share an X-rated embrace.
“Hey son look at this!!”
I took the magazine of Mr. Pope cover turned it over and with a slap placed him on top of Miss. Revulsion model magazine cover. Then we were interrupted by a check-out guy and so the story goes.
The blending of paradox is a great feeling. I accomplished my silly little anarchist humorous self-indulge. Minus one on the Richter magnitude scale … so oldest son and I went on our way. He likes Southpark…
He did not tell me how old he was but he is a Poser !!
I finally brought the images together. I am indulging my ego tonight. So often I see posts about getting rid of our egos. I don’t think we should. I don’t feel we should get rid of our egos or throw out our shadows! No guilt!!! Our rebellion somehow should linger into our maturity. (If we survive and don’t stay young forever by dying young ?!) It is what we need as a foundation to what it is to be human. Tonight, two images are part of my need to hang on to a part of the beautiful youthful ego that is still in me somewhere. It is a fun image. I call it the praying mantis pose. It is very poser!
The second is an image of James Dean from the film Rebel Without A Cause. I just viewed the film again on TCM. It hit me again too, that poser-pose. I love it too. It got me thinking again about the image, that I have compared it to in my mind all these years. It makes me think there is magic in all this. Some strange synchronicity that I am not aware of currently?? That is all. Mission complete!!
People, oh geez. The pressure to do things with people is way too scary and stressful for me. PTA, gigs and the supermarket. I prefer to do things without people in the privacy of my world. I just saw the film A Fantastic Fear Of Everything. I knew the character of the film, me. Well maybe not as extreme, but mightily close. Also last weekend I went to a local art walk. I was embarrassed for the artists showing their art. I told my son,
“I could never do that. Sit around all day while other people judge my art. I would rather die!!”
“Mom it could be fun sitting around in the shade and relaxing. Don’t take it so personally!!”
I think the internet is the most remarkable place for little creeps like myself. I can project, ramble and spell correctly. I can control it all. Stranger or friend out there BEWARE!!
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