David Alan Dedin
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The Great Depression

12/3/2024

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Picture
Oh, the 80s - when we would match our suits to our cars.
GETTING OFF THE COUCH when you suffer from depression is a. lot like crawling from a grave.  These past three months are a mental fog as I've been dealing with the type of sadness that causes suicide attempts.  A lot of it came from the election.  Many polls said that Kamala would win, and it was hard to keep a MAGA gameface on when 90% of Trump's coverage was negative.  I noticed that gas was a little cheaper, and I worried that fact might swing undecided voters. I also had to quit my storage facility job because I was getting debilitating anxiety attacks, and later, a pawn shop job for similar reasons.  It seems like all of my utilities are on payment plans, and disability barely covers my mortgage.  Another reason for feeling down is because I still don't have an agent; I've been querying for a year to no avail, and now most agencies close down for the holidays - so there's no point in trying to contact them.  Dane's been battling his own melancholy, and Alexander wrecked his car - so now he's depressed.  Quite frankly, these past few months have really sucked for all of us - and that's why I haven't blogged in a while.  Hopefully, December will be a better month.

"If you bought weed in Palm Beach in the nineties, then it probably came from me," the narrator said as I watched my new job's training video this week, smiling to myself.  I'm a "Budtender" at a soon-to-open cannabis dispensary. Perfect job for me because, after I quit drinking, I've become a bit of a stoner.  The gentleman on the screen looked like an extra from Miami Vice, with 3-days worth of chin growth, T-shirt under his jacket, and black Ray Ban sunglasses on his head.  He was one of our company's many "cannabis suppliers," and he rattled off his drug-related arrest record proudly.  Another supplier was a bit too excited when describing our line of cannabis sex products. ("And this one you can drizzle right on the clitoris!") Having worked in the bookstore 17 years - a massive retailer with George Orwell's HR Department - I've grown accustomed to a workplace of decorum & formality, which is why working for Heartland Cannabis is so much fun.  The *culture* of the business is different than anything I've encountered before, from my grizzled Cheech & Chong coworkers to my twenty-five year old Regional Manager - all of whom smoke pot on a daily basis.  The atmosphere is *chill*.  I've never worked in such an environment.   I'm the oldest member of the staff, but that doesn't bother me.  As I reenter the workforce, I want a job with less responsibility - at least until I've been there awhile.  The position has plenty of room for advancement - Heartland is opening numerous locations in Chicago - so, I might return to management in a year or so.  In the meantime, I'm happy where I am - especially with all the free samples I get to bring home. 🪴
PicturePete Hegseth as Sec of Defense? What's. next - Hulk Hogan as Ambassador to Russia?
SPEAKING OF JOB OPPORTUNITIES, one reason why I'm excited to work for Heartland Cannabis is because they're an up-and-coming company that will be expanding during a Trump economy.  I am...so...relieved that Donald won the election, as we'll finally have a "businessman" overseeing our nation's finances - and Drill, Baby, Drill!  I've been watching Mr. Trump's Cabinet picks with glee.  I almost jumped up and cheered when he nominated Fox News's Pete Hegseth as Secretary of Defense.  I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't getting a *little* pleasure out of the Left's scrambling to explain why they were so wrong on their predictions, and I've taken to watching The View these past few weeks because it's funny to see Whoopie Goldberg childishly refuse to say Donald Trump's name.  (Chuckling - maybe watching The View is why I've been depressed!)  The day after the election, with the exception of Goldberg, all of the hosts were dressed in black.  As if we need further confirmation that our media is Left-wing, I thought as I watched the show over a period of several weeks.  The gall of these women.  The way they inflict their out-of-touch values on viewers is shameful.  It's as though they've never seen the post-election map of RED, and I wonder what kind of ratings they really get within the country's heartland.  

Wouldn't you like to be a fly on the wall at Mar-a-Lago right now?  To hear what Trump & Elon really talk about behind closed doors?  I'll bet it's about extraterrestrials.  I suspect that both men are "in the know" when it comes to ET Disclosure, and it wouldn't surprise me if Donald finally opens up the government's UFO files - and tells us what we know about life outside our planet. I loved the photo of Musk & Trump wolfing down McDonald's on Trump's plane from a few weeks back.  I wish Rush Limbaugh were alive to witness this historic transition of government, but I'm sure he's watching from somewhere in the heavens.  Republicans have the chance to do a U-turn on this nation's direction, and I hope that when the new Congress is sworn in, they waste no time initiating much needed reforms.   I wonder what - if anything - Donald has planned for the court system; its bias was revealed during his multiple prosecutions, and the whole damn bureaucracy needs to be flushed.  I can't wait for the economy to improve, and for the price of gas to come down to the levels we saw in Trump's first term.  I also can't wait for our border to be secure, and for Donald to sign his initial Executive Orders.  With the dawn of both commercial space travel & quantum computing, our country is on the cusp of a new golden age - and we all need to appreciate what's happening all around us.  And if the next four years of Trump presidency is as successful as I think it will be, the Republicans will be poised to hold the office for the following eight years - saving us from Socialism.  The era of Biden's Great Depression will finally be over.
PictureDancing to Trump's election.
I SHOULD ALSO POINT OUT  that  I don't agree with *everything* on the Republican platform (I'm actually a Libertarian).  The biggest issue I disagree on: Black people deserve Reparations, and a formal apology from a competent Republican President.  I wrote about why in my 3/6 blog "The Color Purple Rain," as well as in When People Go Away.  What the Democrats have done to the African American community is reprehensible - and after 40 years trapped in a welfare state, we owe Blacks a check for how they've have been treated.  BUT, once Reparations are paid, this whole race issue must be dropped immediately because its decades-long presence has damaged our nation.  Our country must be united as Donald begins to address the encroaching crises that threaten us from overseas.  Between Russia, China, North Korea, and the Middle East, somebody's gonna' drop a nuke - you just know it.  Add to that, terrorist cells are currently in America, and it's likely they'll try and strike sometime during Trump's presidency.  The world has become a very dangerous place, and strong American leadership is required at this moment in history.   The Ukraine war has to be stopped before Putin pushes a button.  The DPRK must be disarmed (and its leadership removed), but China needs to be involved with that - not just the USA.  Iran must stop enriching uranium.  A firm decision has to be made with how far the US will go in defense of Taiwan.  And while all that is happening, Space-X & Nasa will be sending rockets to the stars - can you just imagine?  We are literally at a precipice in history, and with strong Republican leadership, the United States is at its epicenter. This is truly a great time to be alive. 💫
PictureI drew this cartoon in 2008, back when Goodbye to Beekman Place was being read by an agency.
IN OTHER NEWS, I'm completely changing the way I query agents.  Rather than following the traditional querying procedure (which has netted me squat over the past year), I'm going to dust off my pens & pencils and start sending agents cartoons.  I'm going to draw parodies of the individual agencies (I can get their photos off the internet) and pitch the book within the character/mouse dialogue.  I'll FedEx the comics in mailing tubes, with a flash drive of the manuscript (tied by ribbon to a Payday bar) inside.  I loathe the possibility of self-publishing again, because I know that When People Go Away is *good* - and that it deserves a chance on an agent's desk.  But the publishing world is both cold-hearted & predatorial, and getting an agent's attention with a letter/QueryTracker form (when they get hundreds per day) is almost impossible - so I'm going to use my other talents to find a back door.  Worse case, even if the agency tosses my material, I'll be able to update my "Dave's Cartoons" page with some fresh images.  I've been so depressed these past few years, I haven't drawn a cartoon of consequence since 2016.  It's time to change that.  I've already commandeered the kitchen table, and warned my roommates that I get manic when I'm working, so don't talk to Dave while he's drawing unless its an emergency.

In further "other news," I've started seeing a consoler specifically for my multiple personalities.  I see a psychiatrist of course, but it's been years since I've spoken to a "psychologist."  I asked my meds doctor to recommend someone on his staff for consoling, so he paired me up with this cute little gay guy who's half my age.  I like going to his office because it's filled with things that glow, and the place has an ambiance similar to my own home at night.  I told him I was still suicidal, and I approached each day like an addict in AA: One day at a time.  I gave him a copy of When People Go Away, and he said that he'll read it.   I'm really looking forward to having a mental health professional's opinion on my work, even if he doesn't like it.  I'm running out of people who've never read earlier versions of the manuscript, so having a therapist read my stuff is kinda' a big thing for me.  We'll see if he *gets* the ending.
PictureThey're expensive, but worth it.
I CANNOT BEGIN TO DESCRIBE what it feels like to finally have some relief from 45 years of depression.  When People Go Away was hell to write, and I was hospitalized 3x while completing the final manuscript.  In addition to the cartoon query described above, I'm also going to incorporate language about how every red voter is a potential/underrepresented reader.  I'm going to hit agents with artwork, a great/polished story, and a target audience with dollars to spend.  I'll give it another 6 months to a year before I break down and self-publish again, so starting January - with Trump's inauguration on the television - I'll be spending my free time at either my computer or drawing table.  I am literally "starting from the drawing board" as I market my book and continue to heal myself from my Great Depression -

Trump, in the meantime, will be healing the nation. 🇺🇸
​
- Sir Dave
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Rooting for the Aliens

8/25/2024

1 Comment

 
Picture
"In space, no one can hear you scream from boredom."
BLOOD SPLATTERED ACROSS THE MOVIE SCREEN as Alexander, his Father Arthur, and myself all sat in the near-empty theater yesterday, enjoying a matinee of Alien Romulus.  We had all gotten stoned in the parking lot, so we were feeling pretty good when we entered the cinema. I love Alexander's dad.  He reminds me of Barnard Hughes from The Lost Boys.  He's a delightful curmudgeon with an old fart's sense of humor, and he doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks of him.  We had spent a good 40 minutes visiting at my house before leaving for the movie, and as I had Fox News on in the background, we talked a little about politics.  Both Alexander and his dad are Liberal voters, so I was outnumbered - and spent more time listening than talking.  I actually have no problem with "Old School" Liberals (like Bill Maher), and living in the Chicago area, most of my friends are Democrats.  We had a nice conversation before we left in Arthur's car, and his driving - like a real-life game of *Pole Position* - made sure we were scared by the time we got to the theater.   Btw, there is no better *munchie* food than buttered/salted movie popcorn. 

Going back to horror films, I loved the original Alien.  I actually have a framed movie poster in my home.  I can still remember the first time I saw the film's trailer as a kid, watching Svengoolie at my grandmother's house, in the late 1970s.  The first Alien was so good, especially for its time. The second Alien was a worthy follow-up, and the third's premise was so creepy, I enjoyed that as well.  But like Peter Sellers' Pink Panther series, the franchise went on too long, to the point where I actually started rooting for the monsters. ("Alien vs Predator" was the series' *jumping the shark* moment.)  The last two films - Prometheus & Covenant - were kinda' cerebral, so I was expecting the same from Alien Romulus - which did not happen.  The flick ended up being a reworking of the first film, only with a younger cast.  It offered few new surprises, the same old jump scares, and the expected special effects that we've seen in previous installments.  There were enough nods to the first two films to keep me interested, but ultimately the movie was a let down as it offered nothing new.  It had nice production values, but the script was tepid - and the film was doomed from the start.  And after spending four nights last week watching the Chicago Democratic Convention, I couldn't help but notice the similarities.
PictureProtestors outside the DNC Convention.
I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND how people have forgotten their High School History lessons.  The world has become very dangerous outside the US borders, and it's impossible to ignore/deny the growing threats from Mexico & overseas.  Russia has its eyes on Europe, China's military is openly threatening Taiwan, Kim Jong UGH wants South Korea, and Israel is under attack from multiple organizations. Our planet is a heartbeat from erupting in violence, yet the Democrats just don't seem to care.  Their convention was like watching people in a bubble, citizens who've had it easy for so long, they can't even fathom a life otherwise.  It's like the Starliner passengers in Wall-E; they never get out off the sofa.  I struggle not to repeat myself in these posts, but it gets harder & harder with each one I write.  I watched all four nights of the convention, and I don't remember a single speech on overseas policy, and issue that's almost more important than the border.  Bill Clinton was showing his age, and his uninspiring address rambled like Joe Biden.  The Obama's promoted a Liberal utopia of course, a new United States without the sharp edges of Trump's closed-border policies.  LOL - they even dusted off Oprah!  

I purposely waited to write this blog until after the convention was over, so I could go through speaker-by-speaker and comment on their individual points.  But like a movie franchise that's gone on too long, the Woke Liberal writers had nothing *new* in their stories, as every Democrat speaker said the exact same thing: Trump, bad.  Harris, good.  It was hard not to yell at the TV: "The reason Liberals have the luxury of fighting about social issues is because previous Republican administrations invested in the military, which allows them the freedom to live their lives as they're doing right now."  The hypocrisy of the left borders on *idiocy*, especially as the Liberals refuse to acknowledge Republican's direct questions:  HOW will you secure the border?  HOW will you deal with rampant crime in the big cities?  HOW will you lower the National Debt?  How about the Fentanyl crisis?  Or the fact that the last two generations can barely get off the couch?  How, how...HOW do the Democrats expect us to reach our God-given potentials, if we're holding ourselves back with out of control, womb-to-tomb social policies?  The present state of our country is unsustainable, and the Republicans are the only ones who genuinely understand that. Forgive my bluntness, but Americans have had it easy for decades, and our selfishness has prevented us from seeing just how precarious our country's future has become.  That needs to change.  And it needs to change fast.

Remember these bullet points? -
​They speak for themselves:

  • Russia, China, & North Korea are far bigger countries than us, when combined.
  • Russia, ruled by an ex-KGB madman, still feels humiliated by Reagan's defeat - and its aftermath.
  • China has a missile that can take out our carriers; the USA projects its power with the Navy.
  • The United States is supposed to be able to fight two wars at once; one on each coast. (Right now, we can't even fight one.) 
  • Russia, China, & North Korea, are NOT Politically Correct; their code: Only the strongest survive.
  • Have you seen China's AI/Robot technology?  Even the Black Mirror robo-kill-dog would shit itself.
  • Now, take all of the above and throw in Israel and the Middle East situation.
  • Meanwhile, on our southern border ...
  • Considering the present state of the world, without the United States leading by example, humanity is on the cusp of exploring space - and finally understanding ✨our place within the Universe✨

I have yet to see a Liberal even begin to address these issues, while Donald Trump brings them up almost every time he's on camera.  Whenever I ask Democrat friends how they feel about such statements, their unanimous response is to attack Trump's social policies, without ever thinking about the bigger picture: we're in danger of losing our way of life.  Think about that:  Losing...our WAY...of LIFE.  Sure, that seems alarmist on the surface, but so did a terrorist attack on 9/10/2001.  If our country were a car's dashboard, it would be flashing warning lights: 🚨Economy!  🚨Border!  🚨Inner-city Crime!  🚨Military!  🚨Damaging social policies!  🚨The Apathy of Youth! 🚨Overseas Threats!  🚨Quantum computing!  🚨Space Travel!  🚨The Loss of Personal Potential - and the damage it's caused to two generations!  I often think of the late Rush Limbaugh, when I imagine the DECLINE that modern Liberals have caused in this country...

He's be rolling in his grave, had his *American Patriot* headstone not been so heavy.
PictureThe closest Kamala has come to an Interview.
I'VE LOST COUNT OF HOW MANY TIMES I've heard about Project 2025 from Liberal friends - a piece of legislation that Trump wants nothing to do with.  I support the "spirit" of the project...that is, I agree with the need to fight for traditional family values, as at the very least, it takes straight people to make more gay people (kind of non-negotiable, I'm afraid).  The LGBTQ "agenda" has no place in grade schools, and that's coming from a gay man who struggled with his sexuality very early in life.  The Family Unit is part of God's Intelligent Design, and we need to teach THAT to K-6th Grade children, rather than Woke inclusion.  I do believe that schools should have programs in place to help LGBTQ kids - just not so early.  A drag queen has no business reading Woke titles to preschool children.  A biological male should not be allowed to participate in women's sports - it's unfair.  A child should be as comfortable confiding in a family pastor, as he/she is when talking to a school-appointed counselor.  Abortion should not be illegal, but it needs to be the rarity, and legislated by individual states - not the federal government.  I want "alternative lifestyles" to be discussed in Junior High Health classes, side-by-side with traditional values (I think students are mature enough to handle such information in 7th/8th grades).  But even when teens are taught about LGBTQ life, they don't need to learn about the *nuances* of its subcultures - like twinks vs bears, transgenderism, or the secrets of the BDSM community.  (Quite frankly, they can use the Internet for that.) Our youth must be taught that alternative lifestyles are the exception, not the norm ... and as the exception, the LGBTQ world must stop pushing its agenda on everyone.  Traditional families deserve to live their lives exactly as they do in the same way that gay people live as choose, in our own ways.  Gays refusing to respect Conservative Christians' values (when we demand that Christians respect our own, no matter how outrageous) is hypocrisy on the scale of our President's mental decline.  Please forgive me as I repeat myself again: It's funny how those who preach Tolerance are often the most Intolerant of all.  ​
PictureAt night, the basement lights are *red*.
I don't remember if I've told this story in my "Dave's Blog Archive," so if I have, good things bear revisiting.  I own an old home in a heavily-Hispanic neighborhood, and as of June 1st, I've lived here 18 years.  As a Leatherman, I knew what I was getting into when I took possession on 6/1/2006.  Having lived in Phoenix for the previous six years, I was very familiar with Hispanic culture, its traditional roles & tight family units in particular. Most importantly, I knew that Aurora Hispanics historically didn't ​like gay people, and I was living on their turf - not mine.  The first few years were filled with gay slurs, people crossing the street when they walked by, and totally avoiding my home on Halloween - even though I was giving out good candy. (One of my neighbors used to play anti-gay rap on his stereo, whenever he saw me gardening.)  But I stood my ground, and was polite to every neighbor I crossed - especially during the first few years.  Eventually, the neighbors learned to accept me - mainly because I fixed up my yard/house, increasing their property value.  Now I don't even hide my Muir when I leave for the bar on Saturday nights.  Eighteen years later, all of my neighbors know that I'm gay, and most seem to have no problem with it.  I mention this story because it demonstrates the type of attitude that Liberals have yet to learn.  Sadly, it's a lesson of basic humility.
PictureI watch "The Lost Boys" every Halloween.
SPEAKING OF BASIC HUMILITY, after the movie, I asked Alexander HOW in the hell his Father still has a driver's license - after he dropped us off at the house.  Alexander chuckled.  Arthur is not only a very aggressive driver, he has a new Nissan that handles like a sports car ... and he drives like the Dukes of Hazzard through inner-city traffic.  I rode in the passenger seat both to and from the theater, and each time I had to close my eyes because in addition to speeding, Arthur always stopped on a dime.  Unlike Biden, Arthur still has his cognitive abilities, so taking away his license really isn't an option.  I remember when we had to take my Grandma's license away - after she nailed the side of the garage with her 92' Plymouth "Acclaim." (I hated that car.)  It's hard to know that someone you love is in danger from their behavior, and talking to them about such issues can be as welcome as an addict's intervention.  That's actually a great metaphor for the state of the Democratic Party right now: their behavior has gotten dangerous for our nation, and Republicans must intervene. 

Fueled by the convention "bounce," Drudge warned yesterday that Trump's campaign was in retreat - as did the Liberal media.  But I believe in my heart that the majority of voters can *see* through the coordinated commentators on CNN, MSNBC, et al. - and that in the weeks to come, the tides will shift back to Trump's favor (especially after the debate(s)).  The Democratic agenda is like a big, pretty balloon of Woke deficit spending - and only Republicans can see it's ready to *pop*.   I'm admittedly concerned that Joe's still in office, particularly with the threats overseas, while we're all distracted by the election.  I'm bracing for incursions into territories in Europe, Asia, & Israel - and what Biden's response might be, if any at all.   It's the proverbial "calm before the storm," a cloudburst that I suspect will happen before Nov 5th.  I hope I'm wrong.  The United States, in its current condition, is unable to effectively fight a war of consequence - and I don't know how we'll handle the humiliation of military defeat.  At the very least, I'm sure the situation will trigger a swell of 9-11 patriotism, a national kick in the ass to vote the Liberals out of office - and to return our country to its former glory, one nation, under God.  

​On the subject of God, I pray to him every day - and I thank him for all the good he's done in my life.  I'm recovering from 45 years of depression, and despite being broke, I still feel pretty good about life.  I've shed my Catholic guilt, my personalities are reintegrating, and I've finished writing When People Go Away.  I still have my down-days, but for the most part, things are looking up for me.  I've been sending both queries & completed manuscripts to agents & media anchors, and it's only a matter of time before someone picks me up - and I can spend the rest of my life writing books.  There is no greater feeling than living up to your potential, and I have more good days than bad.  My depression is dangerous, but it's no longer as overwhelming as it once was - and I've learned to live my life one day at a time, as they say in AA.  When you've been sad as long as me, every *good day* is a blessing - and I make sure to acknowledge God when my life goes well.  I thank him for my serenity, and I'm careful to pray for others as well - even the people who piss me off.  That's the key to prayer, you see; always pray for others before you ask for help, yourself.  God DOES listen when we ask him for guidance, and if you let him into your life, you'll see the many miracles that he delivers every day.  
PictureTrump joining forces with RFK.
BLOOD SPLATTERED ACROSS MY TV SCREEN last night as I rewatched the original Alien, along with "Aliens," it's sequel.  Despite being filmed in the 1970s, the movie still holds up today - and I chuckled when I remembered that the flick was filmed during the Carter administration.  How far our country has come, I thought.  Back in 79', we had lines for gas, raging inflation, and a President who was so preoccupied with the hostage crisis, our foreign policy suffered greatly.  It's ironic with how 40+ years later, we find ourselves in a similar situation - with Trump instead of Reagan asking for our vote.  Our nation is at a crossroads, and the upcoming election will define what kind of country we become in the future.  Like we did in 1980, it's time to replace the current administration before overseas threats start encroaching into our (lack of) foreign policy - or, God forbid, our *homeland*. 

We have entered the 🌎 Age of Aquarius 🌍, and it's time for our species to evolve.  Space is not "Woke." It's a very harsh environment, and at this stage in our development, not for the faint of heart.  As we set our sights on the heavens, we must find a way to embrace all Americans - Liberal & Conservative - in a New World Order of planetary peace.  And that evolution will start on Nov 5th, when we finally remove the Democrats from office - before they cause further damage. 

​I cannot stress enough how important is is that we win this next election, and return Donald Trump to his rightful place in the White House.  If we don't, we'll lose the freedoms we all enjoy during one of the most important moments in human history. ✨
​
It's as simple as that.

- Sir Dave
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What's the Frequency, Kamala?

7/30/2024

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Picture
Joe's new campaign logo.
JILL, I MEAN JOE HAD BARELY PENNED OUR PRESIDENT'S RESIGNATION ANNOUNCEMENT last week when the news hit every cable channel, social media outlet, and iPhone alert.  I chuckled as this happened.  It was like watching hospital doors burst open, when the doctor (in bloody scrubs) rushes into the ER's waiting room to tell the family that after ten hours of emergency surgery, Uncle Joe's gonna' be okay.  It was a collective *sigh* of relief so intense, it felt like having an orgasm.  And thank God, too.  Have you noticed the "look" on Biden's face lately?  It's the cold, dead-eyed, Bella-from-Twilight stare that old people get, when they're realized you've taken their car keys away (or in this particular case, the nuclear codes).  FINALLY the White House doors are open, and the tinfoil peeled from the Oval Office windows.  I honestly got chills when I watched President Biden's primetime address to the nation, spinning the situation like a Karine Jean-Pierre press conference.  This man is decrepit on the scale of Montie Burns, and he's clearly getting worse.  While the media ponders the Twenty Fifth amendment, Putin, Xi, & Un are staring at the Western media together, their mouths on the floor: NO FUCKING WAY!  Without a competent American President in office, there's nobody strong enforce the rules of the global playground - and the bullies will take over.  Adding fuel to the fire, we've given our enemies an Afghanistan-y timetable for our Jan 20th withdrawal.  As I mentioned in my last blog, if a foreign adversary *genuinely* wants to attack American interests, now's the time to do it - especially with a Lame Duck President who's actively displaying a gross inability to lead.  And if the United States assets/allies do get attacked, do we reeeeeeally think that Kamala Harris can protect our nation's borders?  The *Border Tsar* has barely visited our own, for Christ's sake. 
PictureA forgotten gem from the Carter era.
It's fun to watch the Democrats scramble, as leaks of the "real" Joe Biden finally hit the news.  It's horrifying to realize how much the staff has hidden from cameras, and how vulnerable that has left this country to threats from overseas. I love watching Liberals contradicting themselves on air, in back-to-back soundbites on Fox News.  I also have no sympathy for pretty-eyed Jean-Pierre these days, as she's clearly been lying to everyone from the moment she took the podium.  I find that I need to re-educate myself on Kamala, because, to my knowledge, she hasn't done a thing for years.  (I seem to remember she has issues with her staff, as, unlike her boss, she's a very different person behind closed doors.)  My impression of Kamala is an ultra-left-wing candidate who's *unpleasant* to work with - and she has more colored pant-suits than Hillary.  (It's like she found a style she liked, then bought a rainbow case-pack.) In her recent commercial, Harris is seen taking an endorsement call from the Obamas.  The ad was was a work of beautiful Hollywood stagecraft, and I'm sure it was very effective within its target audience.  The problem was, it was so well-executed, no one really bought the fake Obama sincerity.  At least, I didn't.
PicturePresident Harris's first Oval Office address.
HOW STUPID DO THEY THINK WE ARE, as modern Liberals do a U-turn so fast, the Presidential limo loses a hubcap?  Do they really expect us to *buy* the story that Kamala Harris has been waiting in the shadows to be our first black female President all along?  That she's been mentored by Biden on America's role in geopolitics - and is now ready to stand her ground against Russia, China, North Korea, and those who threaten Israel in the middle east?  I'll admit, I wasn't paying attention to the early Democrat primaries when Joe first chose her as his VP running mate.  I know she was a Prosecutor in San Francisco, and "The Prosecutor vs The Felon" does play well in Talking Points ... but again, I can't think of one thing of consequence this woman has done during her tenure as Vice President.  And the budget the Democrats have to work with to promote her new campaign is staggering; the Liberal machine is already at work filming beautifully blocked, staged, performed, directed, & slickly-produced TV commercials, promoting a Harris presidency. (I can't wait for their convention.) I hope the GOP is paying close attention to this, and that they might finally start fighting back against this type of media attack.  I think they have.  Most everyone I know isn't particularly excited by Kamala, and might just vote Republican if Donald makes his case.  For years, the Democrats ran circles around Republicans with their massive Get Out and Vote effort, rallying the troops - the invalids, the homeless people - driving/bussing voters to polling places, and knocking on doors & tent flaps at 6am 11/5 to physically escort their Liberal base to the nearest polling places. Considering the gravity of our upcoming election, Republicans must make the same effort.

Here's a snippet from my 10/10/2018 blog, describing Kamala's San Francisco home-turf, and how it dealt with the homeless problem six years ago:

" So, I recently learned of San Francisco's "filth" problem, caused by its massive homeless population.  Apparently the city by the bay deals with bums in the streets, shit on the sidewalks, and used syringes that are sprinkled through downtown like a fresh coat of newly-fallen snow.  The poop in particular is a massive issue as addicts/vagrants shoot up in the streets, then defecate on the closest slab of pavement.  A local TV station found over 300 piles of human waste while walking the downtown thoroughfares.  A subway escalator was forced to close when its gears became clogged - with feces - because homeless people would shit on the stairs, then watch it grind up at the bottom.   Did you know that San Francisco spends 70 million dollars a year power washing piss, puke, and poop from its sidewalks/streets, only to have the issue return as soon as the cleanup crews go home?  It's a disgusting problem, a failure of local leadership, and a shit-stain on the reputation of a city that's known for its beauty.  Kind of makes you want to sing a classic song: "I left my shart...in San Francisco... "

Long before she was the Border Tsar, Kamala Harris's San Francisco was literally riddled with homeless people, thanks to bad Liberal policies.  In Chicago now, the homeless are everywhere, begging on streets, pleading for money at intersections, and busking for change on major sidewalks.  I actually live in Aurora, a far western suburb, and when I can afford it, I keep dollars handy (in my truck) when I meet beggars near my house.  When I first moved to Aurora 18 years ago, there were no homeless in my neighborhood, but that's changed dramatically since 2006.  Today, the needy beg in the sun at busy thoroughfares - while their families wait nearby, under the shade, watching, hoping.  The homeless are everywhere, even within the burbs that are 30 miles from downtown Chicago-proper. Add illegal immigrants to the mix, and the problem has become a crisis that, like overseas unrest, has gotten so bad under Liberal social policies, it can no longer be ignored.  And that's just ONE of the Biden-caused fires that the "Dictator on Day One" must extinguish, the moment he takes back the office.
PictureThey remind me of Prison Cells.
SPEAKING OF THE NEEDY, I deal with them daily at my new job, co-managing a local Storage Facility.  I've learned we're near one of the largest homeless shelters in the area, so working with the needy is commonplace - especially when I'm walking the property.  We often find the homeless *living* in their units, and when this happens, we have no choice but to evict them.  I'm puzzled by this.  Where did a needy person get the money to rent a space to begin with?  I've been told that, like illegal immigrants, the homeless receive free debit cards & cell phones - just enough to survive.  I was reminded of Rudy's LINK card that we have to use for groceries; the Link card gives us *just enough* to get by - if we shop at Aldi.  Having spent every dime I have writing When People Go Away, I'm about a half-step away from finding myself in the same situation as the homeless at my employer.  I've never been this broke.  I've lost count of the amount of utilities that Dane has put on payment plans - and I'm afraid to ask.  I was so behind on the mortgage, I almost lost my house last month, but my family intervened in the eleventh hour, so that's been added to the bill pile.  I try to send out 2-3 decent queries every week, and it's hard not to bite my nails as I watch my inbox for their response.  I've passed the final manuscript to a handful of "Reader" BN-manager-friends, and their feedback has been positive - even with the novel's Conservative subject matter: 

" I am about 1/3 of the way through your book and I am so impressed and in awe of your craftsmanship, your creativity and your storytelling ability. I'm not good at reviews and analysis, because I tend to mentally and emotionally immerse myself - especially on a first read, but your sense of pacing and timing are flawless. I love the way you bring a scene to life with just enough description, but not so much that it slows down the story or alters the tone. I have never read a scene like the "SOUND of SILENCE." I really struggle with the words for how that affected me - so powerful, so deep and so visual. RAW, RAW, RAW emotion through words only, absolutely gut-wrenchingly fucking amazing. "

After decades of rejection, it's nice to get some good news for a change.
After decades of rejection, I'm (cautiously) allowing myself to feel joy.
Picture"Yes, Ma'am. That's the border of Mexico."
AND THERE IS NO GREATER JOY than to watch the Democrats scramble to shore up our *Border Tsar*, before the convention in a few weeks.  Chuckling.  I can't help but think that we've opened a Pandora's Box, especially with Kamala's ultra left-wing agenda.  I can't wait to see the commercials.  It will be fun to watch how the Liberal media spins its message with Steven Spielberg sitting behind the director's chair.  Unlike Joe, Kamala won't require quite so many jump-cuts, and she can make it through a 30-second take without having to pause for a sip of Laudanum.  Today's Secret Service testimony seems to be setting the tone for the immediate news cycle, which is great because it gives the Democrats time to prepare a winning election narrative just in time for the Democratic Convention in August.  I'm reminded of Dungeons & Dragons from the 80s, when we'd carefully build a character from scratch, in preparation for the *quest* in our best friend's basement.  We need an axe, check ✅.  We need a spell-bag, check ✅.  We need a magic donkey, check ✅.  We need a teleprompter, check ✅.  We need a debit card connected to the Treasury, check ✅.  We need Schumer to press Kamala's pant suits, check ✅.  The list is overwhelming, and the Dem's have just over two weeks to pull it all together. 
PictureGet out the Vote.
​I sometimes find myself switching to CNN during Fox shows, to compare how they're reporting the topics of the day.  They never match of course, but it's still fun how two different networks cover the same story - especially with CNN's/MSNBC's unabashed bias. It's disgusting with how the Liberal media is downplaying Trump's assassination attempt, even going so far to imply that it was staged (on one local SF-area blog that I read).  Chuckling - well, considering that Hollywood is helping the DNC with its razzle-dazzle, they'd certainly be the expert at staging.  

And the stage is set for the most important election of our lifetime, a literal Civil War between two competing ideologies.  Quite frankly, it's our last chance to get our heads out of our asses, and to fix this nation which will lead to healing the planet - all done as humanity begins exploring the stars.  Our race is on the cusp of both Quantum Computing & commercial Space Travel, and we're about to realize just how small our world is. Once we start to understand that humanity has a cosmic destiny, we'll quickly realize how petty - and damaging - our partisan fighting has been.  We're destined to achieve ✨time travel✨ in 1000 years, people!  Even Elon Musk is giving the Trump campaign millions - can we not see how important that is?   

When the world's richest man gives Donald both cash and his endorsement, that's kind of a big "wow..."  
Picture
The famous SETI *Wow* signal, from August 15th, 1977.
What's the frequency, Kamala?
Cosmic food for thought.💫
​
- Sir Dave
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Hit Me With Your Best Schott

7/14/2024

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Picture
Trump is a *true* World Leader.
I WAS TUGGING THE LAPELS OF MY SCHOTT PERFECTO Saturday afternoon, as I stood in the mirror, trying my leather jacket on.  I've put on weight after sitting at my computer for a year writing When People Go Away, and I was curious to see if it still fit - which it does, barely.  I have two *good* leather jackets: A Vanson and a Schott, and both retail for around $1000.  I alternate between the two whenever I go to the bar in colder months, and as summer is too hot for a jacket, I keep my Schott draped over the back of my desk chair because I like to look at it (and count down the days until I can wear it again).  Returning the coat to the back of the chair, I resumed ironing my clothes for Touche - with Fox on in the background.  I've been working all week at my new job, so I'm not as current on the news as I should be; rather than MeTV, I was watching Fox News - and their live coverage of Trump's Pennsylvania rally.  Steam rose from the iron as I carefully pressed my dress shirt & jeans as the rally's revelers danced to both "Macho Man" & "YMCA," before the music played Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA."  I smiled when Donald finally took the stage, as I stared at the television with a shit-eating grin on my face.  I love Donald Trump.  I often watch his rally videos on YouTube.  I quickly finished ironing, then settled on my couch with my bootblack kit, as I began to polish my Wescos.  As luck would have it, I was watching LIVE coverage when the gunshots erupted, and Trump was brought to the ground.  My world fell silent.  I actually started to cry.  But my tears of grief quickly turned to joy, when Trump stood back up surrounded by Secret Service agents and gave the crowd his FIGHT!-FIGHT!-FIGHT!-fist.  He refused to allow an attempted assassination to disrupt his campaign.  And when I saw that, I cried even harder.
PictureThis is an Axios image.
I watched Fox News for the next ten hours, abandoning my plans to go out.  I was expecting a 🚨*siren*🚨from Drudge on my phone, but when the assassination attempt finally made the website's banner,  it wasn't even red.  I then started flipping between Fox & CNN, to compare the networks' coverage.  Fox was filled with patriotic interviews from people who were at the event.  Sure, CNN had a few of those moments, but it's overall story focused less on human drama,  and more on the logistics of how a shooter got so close in the first place.  I paid careful attention to what footage CNN aired, and to my surprise, they showed the full 2.5 minutes -  though I did notice that they muted Donald's "No - Wait!" order (when he was surrounded by agents, right before he raised his fist) when they played the video.  I felt horrible for thinking this, but I immediately realized: Biden can use this as an excuse to cancel any/all public appearances, going forward.  The moment it was clear that Donald Trump was safe, my mind began to wonder on what this event means on a global scale:
  • Trump just showed the world how strong of a Leader he will be.
  • Biden's remarks were very well-written, but he exited the podium looking small & feeble.   
  • If *I* were an overseas despot, I'm realizing that Trump just won the election - and if I'm going to invade Taiwan, nuke Ukraine, attack Israel, or send troops into Seoul, I have, roughly, a five-month window to put the operation together - assuming that it's not in the works, already.
Personally, I'm far more worried in what's happening overseas than I am with what's going to happen with our nation's November election.  As I've mentioned in previous blogs, there's a game of Global Chess being played, with the fate of the world going to the victor.  Biden's like a weak chess player pitted against other world leaders who think twenty moves ahead.  What Donald had demonstrated in how he brazenly stood his ground after being shot, is the type of strength that we haven't seen in a leader since Ronald Reagan was in office.  Joe is pathetic when compared to Trump, and with all the fires burning on the globe, circumstances are ripe for a Night of Long Knives on a worldwide scale.  I mean, think about that.  We all remember our history.  Imagine a scenario where our enemies decide that Joe's too weak to stand up for US interests, allowing our enemies to launch coordinated attacks on Taiwan, Seoul, Israel, & Ukraine - within *hours* of each other.  The current administration would be completely overwhelmed, especially if events also coincided with a massive cyber attack on our communications, utility, and banking systems.  We'd be in the exact situation that William R. Forstchen described in his chilling 2009 book One Second After. In the novel, the United States is attacked with a large EMP, completely disrupting society.  The lights go off.  Cars stop in the streets.  Computers, radios, phones, and anything with an electronic chip cease working.  Planes, dependant on electronics, fall from the skies.  Fires erupt in the streets.  The only thing working is the water pressure, but that slowly dissipates as community water towers go dry (as the pumps that fill them are electric).  In less than a week, society crumbles and we realize that we are completely at the mercy of the country that attacked us.  It's an unsettling thought that's been going through my mind these past two days, and I hope to God that a thought is all it is.
PictureTrump *didn't* break down in tears. Though I will admit, I often wonder if he cries over the condition of our country when he's alone.
ON THE SUBJECT OF UNSETTLING THOUGHTS, I also took note of a story that got lost in the news.  Alec Baldwin's Rust-shooting trial was halted, as the Judge tossed it out of court - and barred it from being retried.  Like I did when Trump was shot, Baldwin broke down in tears on hearing the news.  I couldn't help but wonder if anyone noticed the parallel between Alec's trial and Donald's trial. (Chuckling - each dodged a bullet, ba-dum-dum.)  Both high-profile events had biased, aggressive prosecutors who tried to railroad innocent men.  The only difference was that Baldwin's judge would have none of it, and for the first time I actually felt pity for Alec; I've avoided his films since he parodied Trump on SNL a few years back.  

Here's a clip from my 5/31/2017 Blog Archive:

​" A few weeks back I was watching video of Donald Trump boarding Air Force One, on his way to give the commencement speech at Virginia's Liberty University.  I saw him leave the motorcade, climb the airplane's exterior staircase, and pause at the top before entering the fuselage.  As usual, he turned to wave at the cameras, and I was struck by the "loneliness" of the entire image.  There was no one visible waiting inside the cabin and unlike most recent flights, no First Lady at his side.  The President was alone, completely alone, and the visual became the perfect metaphor of his Presidency so far.  And I don't mean that as a bad thing.  As I've said many times, I really like President Donald Trump.

SNL pulled out all the stops in its season finale before the POTUS  left the country for his first overseas trip. Alec Baldwin donned his yellow wig & orange makeup, the Rock & Tom Hanks announced their 2020 candidacy, and anti-Trump politics fueled the following sketches, inserting politics into everything possible.   I was reminded of something I'd read about a week ago, and please forgive me but I can't remember the source. It was a news story that described how SNL has crossed the line between comedy and "ridicule," and it focused on Sean Spicer - and Melissa McCarthy's increasingly-cruel portrayal of him.  It's one thing to "mock" a public figure, like Kate Mckinnon's dead-on Clinton impression (the way she moves her hands like claws is spit-out-your-coffee brilliant).   But unlike Darrell Hammond's equally dead-on Trump  ("a-ba-ba-baaaah"), Baldwin's impersonation is as offensive as black-face ... and I'm completely baffled that the PC-movement allows it to happen.   And as a gay Trump supporter, whenever I watch comedians like Baldwin ridicule the President, it's hard not to feel like they're ridiculing me. " ​

Forgive my crassness, but I hope that Alec Baldwin has learned a lesson.  More importantly, I hope he shares that experience with others in the Hollywood community - and people like Seth Mcfarlane will stop ruining my (former) favorite programs, by inserting their unwanted Liberal Woke agendas into their storylines. I will admit though, that when I saw the video of Baldwin break down in sobs in court, I felt like Eric Cartman licking salty tears off Scott Tenorman's face.  

​Moving on ...
PictureThe Schott *Perfecto* - Every dirtbag's favorite!
I WAS SHOWING ALEXANDER the quilted lining of my Schott biker's jacket yesterday evening, as we watched the assassination-attempt coverage together on TV.  Alexander is my new roommate.  He was born of necessity.  As I've spent every dime I have writing When People Go Away, in a desperate attempt to avoid foreclosure, I've both gotten a full-time job *and* a new renter for my extra room.  Alexander is...unusual.  He's perfect for my home's The Young Ones vibe.  He's a skinny white dude in his forties, wickedly intelligent with a long goatee & mohawk, and he works as a meat cutter in a high-end grocery store.  He describes himself as a conservative anarchist.  I knew I was going to rent to him five minutes into the interview, and after he moved all his stuff in Saturday, we both shared a bowl to relax.  With Fox News in the background - and a haze of marijuana smoke, swirling in the green light of my neon cactus - the two of us bonded by talking music, books, and global politics.  I can't believe how much my life has changed these past few years, and as Dane made tacos for everybody in the kitchen (with meat that Alexander had brought home from work), I looked at him, then Alexander, then to Vinnie (my younger cat) - and smiled.  I feel the same freedom now that I first felt when I moved out of my parent's house at 18; that's an exhilarating thing to say for a man of fifty-five, and I'm enjoying every moment of it.  I'm so happy, I actually feel like reading again, and I'm tempted to re-read Sybil, or Richard Baer's incredible Switching Time. I have a growing pile of unread hardcovers by my bedroom door, and it's been years since I've been current on Preston/Child's Pendergast novels.  But, I'm not starting ANY-thing new until Amazon delivers the new Crichton/Patterson book; from Pirate's Latitudes to Dragon Teeth, I just love how they keep finding *new* unpublished Michael Crichton manuscripts hidden in the coffin.⚰️

But going back to Alexander, as the buzz kicked in, we ended up discussing history.  I showed him my blog, and pointed out a few of the better ones; he agrees with me in that black people deserve Reparations - and that most modern Liberals are completely off their rockers.  He also agreed about the fall of the Roman Empire, and, when you consider the lessons of history, even the *strongest* of nations can vanish, in less than a generation.  We both concurred the current state of our country is dire, and that Trump is the man who can fix that.  I'm not sure if our motivations are the same; I want to see Donald save the nation of course, but I suspect that Alexander just wants to see the shit show💩.  Either way, I'm looking forward to getting to know Alexander in the months to come.  While watching television in the living room, I overheard him telling Dane in the kitchen that he's also used a Food Pantry, as Dane & I had to do a few months back.  It's funny how God gives us just the right people at just the right time we need them, and I'm already thinking about Christmas.  Six months ago, I gave Dane a vintage leather jacket I'd acquired some years ago.  It would be nice to have enough money saved to buy him a Schott of his own.  
PictureTrump's Air B&B.
I WAS A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED IN TRUMP this Sunday afternoon, while I was cleaning the house with Fox News on in the background.  I was listening for his voice.  I thought he'd do a press conference or something, or an ALL CAPS post on Truth Social, at least.  But then it dawned on me: the man nearly d i e d two days ago, and if ANYONE deserved a SICK DAY, it was him.  Once I realized that, I did a quick Google search to see if there was any mention of Melania & Barrom going to see him in person - which I could not find.  I was trying to imagine what might be going through his head on a day like yesterday: Did he call his wife & family?  Did he talk to Biden again?  Did Hannity drop by for a visit w/donuts?  Was he watching the news?  I remember almost dying myself two years ago, and the strange sort of serenity that I felt before things turned around.  (That topic is covered in detail, in early posts of this blog, btw.)   I recall the feeling of everything slipping away, then followed unexpectedly by the sensation of rushing water - like floodgates in a dam.   What I remember most is how that moment changed me, how I suddenly had a genuine understanding of what life is really about: We must love each other, and love what we do with our lives.  I imagined how Donald must have felt in the moments when Secret Service helped him to his feet.  The surge of energy had to be incredible, at it was clearly a miracle he survived the sniper's bullet.  I often wonder what Trump's own belief system is.  Does he believe in God?  I'm pretty sure he doesn't go to church, but does he pray like I do?  During free moments during the day?  Talking to God as though he were in the car seat next to my own?  I like to think that's the case.  Chuckling - people often think that I'm talking to myself when I'm alone in my truck, so I can totally relate.
PictureThis is one of my 10 *desert island* albums.
BUT GOING BACK TO THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT, I want reiterate that our nation is on the wrong path with a weak President in office.  Donald has demonstrated the type of *global leader* he really is, and Joe can't hold a candle to that.  And, to the White House's chagrin, the media has started to drop the party line - as Joe's mental decline has become too dangerous to ignore.  No, they're not stopping their assault on Trump, they're just dialing it back a notch during the Republican convention.  They've backed themselves into a corner.  CNN's very-thorough analysis of the event's security lapses can only go so far without real testimonials from the MAGA supporters they intentionally suppress. The Liberal Democrat agenda is literally falling apart with every Fox News alert, and the public is witnessing our era's ugly truth: Corruption, from the court system to the White House - and a media that's been hiding the truth.  I pray that my fears of global unrest in the next few months are unjust, and I hope to God that Trump has a Reagan-esque landslide, sending Liberals packing - with their heads held in shame.  

Our nation literally *dodged a bullet* with the attempted assassination of Former President Trump.  And I say that because I genuinely believe that Mr. Trump will win the election, because of his character.  

 🎶 "You're a real tough cookie with a long history, of breaking little hearts like the one in me - 🎶
 🎶  That's okay, let's see how you're doin' - put up your dukes, let's get right to it!" 🎶

He may be loud, he may not be Woke, but the man has balls of gold-plated steel.
And that's the character of a Character with character, and he's got my vote.

 🎶 "Hit me with your best shot! ... Why don't you hit me with your best shot! ... 🎶

I just wish he'd get rid of his 1980s Pat Benatar hair. 

 🎶 "Hit me with your best Schott! ...🎶​
​
 🔥Fire away, Mr. President.🔥

- Sir Dave
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Kamala, Kamala, Kamala Down, Doobie-Doo, Down-Down ...

7/4/2024

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Picture
One of the many "office calendar cartoons" I drew for Handy Andy's 1995 Going Out of Business sale.
THUNDERCLOUDS RUMBLED IN THE DISTANCE one fine summer morning, as I stood in the debris-filled parking lot, lighting a cigarette.  The year was 1995, and I was working as an Area Manager for Handy Andy Home Improvement Centers, the largest Home Improvement chain in the Chicago area at the time.  It had been an active year for tornadoes, and several had touched down overnight.  As luck would have it, *I* was the day's opening manager, and I could already tell that my shift would be a busy one.  Part of our exterior sign had fallen in the previous night's wind; the word "Andy" lay shattered within our fenced Lawn & Garden Department.  The phone was already ringing when I entered the building, and I could hear numerous dripping roof leaks in the darkness of the sales floor.  When I answered the telephone, the call-offs began: several of my employees had damage to their houses, and had to stay home to make insurance claims.  I also got a call from "Less," the Assistant Manager.  Less had been going through a messy divorce, and I could tell that he had been up all night drinking. "I'm running a little late," he slurred, audibly lighting a Pall Mall on the phone.  "You should put the generators up front today.  The shop-vac's too."  I complied, got the store open with what staff I had, and began the process of calling repairmen - and filling out incident reports for the property damage.  
PictureWhy are these monogrammed, "H Biden?"
In addition to the storm, I remember that year clearly for two reasons: 1 - it was the year Home Depot arrived to the market (and wiped our entire company out of business in less than 12 months); and 2 - that was the year OJ was found "not-guilty."  The Simpson trial played out in the background as our company scrambled to get ready for Home Depot's arrival.  In 1995, Handy Andy had been in business for decades.  We were used to being the ONLY big hardware store in Chicago, and our business model hadn't been updated since the 70's. Employees were "territorial," and refused cross an aisle to help a customer in a different department.  Salaried salesmen were predatorial, and worked on commission - often stealing customers from hourly employees. Even though the store wasn't unionized, the whole place had a "union" attitude and spoke openly about things they didn't like about the company.  The cashiers were gossipy.  Everyone made crude jokes.  The way male employees treated female employees would be totally unacceptable by today's HR standards, and when I think back to the things we said to each other, I wince.  The entire store felt as though it were trapped in the past, especially with the 50s/60s music we played on the sales floor.  As the Depot's approaching stores were new, uniform & organized, no two Handy Andy's were alike; one of our stores was actually a repurposed bowling alley, and its wooden floors *creaked* when customers walked on them.  Our last year of business was spent frantically cleaning up the place, and patching the many OSHA violations that plagued our aging buildings. 
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Our last year in business. Our store was an OSHA nightmare.
​As Home Depot started to open stores, Handy Andy began closing stores.  My location was in the first round of cuts, and while a ragtag group of Chicagoland locations still clung onto survival, my own became a liquidation sale.  It was actually kind of fun for me.  I was a young 25, so I had plenty of time to find another management job.  (Rather than unemployment, I just got a restaurant gig in the meantime - which paid considerably more).  Consequently, I was in the position to *enjoy* the GOING OUT OF BUSINESS sale, and that I did as you can tell from all the cartoons I drew.  (All seven of my Handy Andy comics are available under the "Dave's Cartoons" tab above, btw.)  From the moment we learned the OJ Trial's verdict, our company's final months were hysterical. Both corporate & retail employees had the same dead-eyed stare that you can see right now behind Karine Jean-Pierre's beautiful eyeshadow, during daily press conferences.  "There's nothing to see here" was our business's attitude when our corporate staff was slashed in HALF without any notice.  Then, like "Flippy's" Happy Tree Friends flashbacks, our vested hourly employees began disappearing one-by-one, while the Liquidator made Draconian cuts to payroll, keeping only the lowest-paid staff.  As the last manager standing, it was my responsibility to keep the registers running - and the aisles somewhat free from debris.  Our store fell apart.  We couldn't afford a cleaning service anymore, so the bathrooms stunk like urine.  Nobody cared about anything, and the more aisles we sold/closed off, the ruder both staff & customers became. Towards the end, it devolved into a free-for-all, a Saigon-like evacuation of the Liquidator, and a handful of remaining staff.  In many ways, it mirrored what's happening now in the Biden White House - as the cat's outta' the bag with our Commander & Chief's cognitive decline.  Like an old store with a looming closing date, the Biden Administration knows it's days are numbered.
Picture"The President did NOT fall asleep; he was meditating!"
"COMMA, COMMA, COMMA down, doobie-doo down-down," played on my Bose Wave Radio this morning as I briefly paused on the 50s/60s station, while looking for something to listen to.  I already had Fox News on in the background, and I was getting ready for my new job, managing a public storage facility.  It was fitting to hear oldies music when watching Karine Jean-Pierre's "Baghdad Bob" impression while pressed with questions about Biden's obvious mental decline.  After his debate performance, it's clear that our President is not fit for office, and that his staff has been hiding this situation for years.  It was fun watching Karine bend, twist, and contort herself while attempting to answer reporters' questions about Joe's cognitive state.  As expected, she went on the attack; her denials reminded me of Johnnie Cochran in the nineties, in how she deflected growing evidence that her client (Joe) wasn't guilty of growing old.  I'll spare you the debate-analysis; it's already been done in the media.  What I will say is that, unlike Clinton's Press Secretary in the 90s, Jean-Pierre has a *real* problem on her hands. Biden's dementia (?) has become such an issue, even the Liberal Media is calling for his resignation. Commentators on CNN, MSNBC, and the big three networks are united in unison, with Joe's mental state now included in their talking points. Coupled with that, the dangers overseas have grown with ferocity, and if there ever was a time for the United States to intervene, this is it.   But our current President can barely walk up a flight of stairs, let alone make hard decisions about the potential of war.  China🔥, Russia🔥, North Korea🔥, The Middle East🔥 - all of these places can "go nuclear" at any time. But our current administration isn't capable of wielding US might, and for that reason, the world has become a very dangerous place.  Gone are the claims that "Biden is full of energy behind closed doors."   It honestly gives me h i v e s to know how serious this is, but the media seems to have finally caught on - and is actively calling for Biden to step aside for the next election. 

​Quite frankly, this is too little, too late.
Picture"Bwa, ha ha ha ha...!"
I just don't understand how Liberals can't see how dangerous the world has become.  This thought is magnified by the talk of making Kamala Harris the Democratic nominee before the Chicago convention in August. Now, THAT'S gonna' be a shit-show.  As a resident of liberal Chicago, I can already imagine what kind of Spielberg-esque spectacle the Dem's have planned for August.  With Joe's sad performance after eight days of debate-prep, I expect to see a dais packed with the predictable: Pelosi 🤮.  Schumer 🤮.  Obama 🤮.  The Clintons 🤮.  The squad 🤮.  When  I think about how little our "Border Tsar" has accomplished these past four years, it's no wonder when you consider that her boss was *literally* asleep.   Shh! - Don't wake up Joe because China wants Taiwan and Russia is aggressively rebuilding the Soviet empire.  Don't *nudge* the President when the DPRK launches missiles into the Sea of Japan, or when Hezbollah fires rockets into Tel Aviv.  Did Joe even notice that Putin paid Kim a visit on the despot's own turf a few weeks back?  And how about that border, Madame Border Tsar?  Have you given Arizona a visit?  Checked out a yarn store in Phoenix?  Enjoyed an ice cream shop in Scottsdale, perhaps?  Have you done ANYTHING that a voter can rattle off as an accomplishment?  Sure, Joe's mental decline is worrisome, but the thought of a Harris Administration is chilling.  This woman is as competent to run a country as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (who reminds me of "Janice" from the Muppets, btw), and if she really does get the Democratic nomination, that all but guarantees a Republican victory with Trump. 

​Again, for the Liberals, it's too little, too late.
PictureDictator on Day One.
"I WILL BE DICTATOR ON DAY ONE," Donald often trumpets during his MAGA gatherings, leading to cheers from the crowd.  This statement scares the *shit* out of Democrats, and it's fun to watch them scramble on television with shaky voices and carefully-edited Trump sound bites.  As of today, they're still caught up on Donald's "dictator" comment, refusing to show the second part of Trump's sentence: "But only on day one!" Add to that, Hillary's written yet another memoir: something lost, something gained.  (Kind of sounds like Capote's "Other Voices, Other Rooms," doesn't it?)  According to Amazon, Clinton's book is about "Reflections on Life, Love, and Liberty."  Kudos on the alliteration I guess, but does anyone reeeeeeally care what Hill's been up to since penning her third autobiography?  (I seem to remember she drank a lot of Chardonnay.)  I mean, how much more can she say?  Does her book have recipes?  Puzzles?  Is it a *pop up*, with a special chapter on her husband?  This is the part that I really miss from my seventeen years with Barnes & Noble: I'm not current with new titles.  I have a hard enough time keeping up with Preston & Child, so I'm not "in the know" with what customers are saying about Hillary's book.  That being said, I do pay attention to Amazon, so I have a good idea of what political titles are available.  

But back to the Orange Man, when you think about Trump's "dictator" comment, you really have to wonder how seriously the Liberals are taking him.  Do they honestly think he's Hitler?  It would actually reassure me if they did, because that means that at least SOME Democrats still remember their history books.  Considering the condition of the border, Donald NEEDS to be a dictator for a day to scare the hell out of everyone - illegals, the leaders of other countries, Liberals.  Our country is in such terrible shape, our next President *literally* has to be a bully-in-the-safe-space, and YANK everyone back into exceptionalism - no matter how many feelings he hurts. I'll save you the diatribe, especially as I've already covered my opinions in previous blogs, but I will say that the current state of our nation is no less than terrifying.  People have grown lazy, both physically & intellectually. We're so distracted by social media & Woke-selfishness that most of the current generation doesn't pay attention to the news.  Putin, Jinping, & Kim Jong UGH are all *literal* dictators - and they're aggressively expanding their empires with Ukraine, Taiwan, and South Korea, respectfully.  All of these countries have horrendous human rights records, and they make no secret they do not like the West. 

Now, add President Biden into the mix - a man that even the media admits has senior moments - and this world is almost ready to explode, without strong American leadership.  I think we all can agree that Joe can't do the job, unless Jill Biden is doing an Edith Bolling Galt Wilson sorta' thing. (Didn't you just love her black "Vote" dress, btw?) ​Annnnnnd, who does that leave us?  Kamala doesn't strike me as an "aggressive" second-in-command.  To me, she channels Hillary every time she wears a pantsuit, and her only accomplishment I can think of off the top of my head is the fact that she has fewer "gaffes" than Joe Biden - and she does a better job thinking on her feet.  The only time I really see her in the media, is to be a distraction to something Joe has done - like her post-debate appearances.  She's become more vocal in her last few major video/sound-bites, and it's clear she's being prepared to have an Oval Office chair shoved up her H&M trousers, just...in...case.  The Democrats have backed themselves into a corner with this one. If the situation weren't so serious, it would be LOL-funny.  But the situation IS unsettling: our sitting President is unfit for office, and his second-in-command isn't much better.  Even worse - and I know this isn't PC, but I'm just going to say it - can you imagine that Kamala Harris might be both our first female - and black - President?  With her level of competence?  Remember that Putin/Kim visit mentioned above?  And China?  And the Middle East?  And the border?  What we're looking at is *The Perfect Storm* of opportunity for our adversaries, and I'm deeply concerned that if the rumors of Biden's resignation are true, we may see sudden changes with territories overseas.  
PictureOur nation is BROKE.
IT'S FUNNY HOW MUCH our nation's current state reminds me of Handy Andy's last few months of business.  The store was dirty, the displays were falling apart, and the staff didn't give a rat's ass whether a customer had a good experience or not.  Our employer was closing.  It was every man for himself.  And the dirty little secret was that it all could have been avoided, had Handy Andy changed its business model before Home Depot was even on the radar.  The chain had the chance to endear itself to customers, to use its quirky stores as a way to bond with the community.  The company could have followed the path of Menards, a chain that survived the Depot, and found a way to thrive.  But it stubbornly clung to outdated practices that ultimately led to its demise.  Handy Andy didn't have to close.  It just had the wrong leadership, and by the time it realized that fact, it was too little, too late.  Many people lost their jobs, and ultimately went to work for our competitors - and several are still there, today. That's actually a great metaphor for what's happening in America now - a superpower that's lost its way, and is close to losing its world standing.  We're about to be *absorbed* by stronger adversaries, and once that happens - slowly, very slowly - we'll lose the freedom that we've all taken for granted.  This is not the time for a feeble President, or an ineffective Vice President, should Kamala take Joe's place. We are in a pivotal place in history, and the leaders we elect now will be the first to govern as we explore the heavens with public & private space programs. This is a time when we need a strong President, and not a man who falls asleep during reelection strategy meetings - or a Vice President whose laugh sounds methodical.

​We have entered the 🌎Age of Aquarius🌍, and the dawn of both quantum computing & commercial space travel.  As a capitalist nation, the United States is at this era's epicenter - but we'll never reach our full potential without competent leaders who have a vision for the future.  Assuming we're not at war yet, our next President will shape our country's destiny for generations to come - so, who we pick this coming November is crucial.

The ​only good thing if Kamala *does* run for President, is that Donald has prior experience defeating a pantsuit.✨
​
- Sir Dave
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Give a Little Bit of Heart and Seoul

6/21/2024

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Look at all those balloons on the floor. Kinda' reminds me of a Trump victory party.
​WE DIDN'T SEE MANY MOVIES growing up in the 70s/80s, as with both parents working, it was hard to find the time.  Mother put in a good 50+ hours a week as a bakery manager, and Father tended to work six-seven days a week as a Regional Manager for a soft drink company.  I wasn't quite old enough to be left home alone at the time, so when weekends came, Father used to take my sister and myself to "the plant," the nickname he'd given to the old brick warehouse which housed a fleet of eight 7up trucks - and hundreds of skids of product. Back then, soft drinks came in both cans & glass bottles, and Denny, the warehouse manager, used to stack the skids on top of each other with a forklift.  Inevitably, the bottles got damaged, and the plant's concrete floor was littered with dirt, broken glass, sharp shards of wood from the plywood skids, and sticky pools of spilled soft drink syrup.  It was actually kind of fun.  On weekends, Father would spend hours  in his office doing paperwork, and my sister & I would bring our skateboards to occupy the time until he was finished - completely unsupervised.  Chuckling - how we played was dangerous.  We'd roll through the warehouse at *unsettling* speeds, weaving in & out of the building's labyrinth of chambers, past parked parked delivery trucks, propane-powered forklifts, busted wooden skids leaning on the walls, detritus from the aging building itself, Jenga-like towers of 7up, Dr. Pepper, & the many varieties of fruit-flavored "Crush" ... AND the most dangerous of all: the rusty remains of a 1950s-era soft drink bottling machine, the soda-pop equivalent of Stephen King's The Mangler.  Even though Denny always swept the floor after loading trucks, there was still broken glass everywhere.  On more than one occasion, my sister & I would hit a shard of something on the floor, which immediately sent us sailing.  My worst injury was accidentally stepping on a busted root beer bottle; the jagged glass went right through the sole of my shoe and my foot made a "squishy" sound because it was filled with blood.  Good times in the 1970s, particularly in the days before OSHA.
PictureChuckling - they look like they're goose-stepping.
But going back to movies, not all our weekends were spent at the 7up plant.  Father occasionally took my sister & myself to do something *fun*, like riding hot air balloons when White Oaks Mall opened, shopping for holidays, and, occasionally, to a movie.  I remember how excited we were when he agreed to let us see "Footloose" in the theater.  Before Dirty Dancing, Footloose was the biggest dance film of the era, and it featured a deliciously-young Kevin Bacon - WOOF - struttin' round the dance floor like Tony Manero.  Everyone knows the plot of course: A cute young city dude brings dancing/rock music to a repressive conservative town, seducing the Pastor's daughter in the process.  It's a nice, little metaphor for not being afraid of change, and doing what you love in life - when others disapprove.   But even deeper than that, Footloose tells the story of a stagnant, closed-society that's afraid of new ideas, and is increasingly unaware of the change that's happened around it.  There's a metaphor in *that*, too: the Liberals in the United States are so preoccupied with with their left-wing agenda, they've failed to notice how menacing the world has become outside our nation's boundaries.  Add Biden's open southern border to the mix (and the 1000s of "gotaways" that cross every day), and our nation is in peril.  Just like Ren McCormack's Bowmont Township, we're living in a bubble that's about to *pop*.  We're at the point where even Liberals seem to acknowledge that an attack on our homeland is inevitable, yet we're still going about our lives as though nothing has changed for the past thirty years - and that's a precarious place to be, especially for a Superpower.
PictureAt first glance, I thought Kim was holding Putin's hand.
THE BIG RED CARPET was rolled out across the Pyongyang tarmac when Vladimir Putin touched down in North Korea earlier this week.  The gravity of this unsettling story seemed to go unreported on most media outlets, and to my knowledge, Fox News was the only network that covered the event with an *ominous tone*.  I'm quite familiar with life in the DPRK, and I wrote many pieces on the country that are available within my Blog Archive.  North Korea first caught my attention several years ago after reading "Camp 14" - the life of a DPRK man who was born into the prison system; three generations of his family had been sentenced to a lifetime of forced labor by Kim's authorities, with no chance of parole (can you imagine?).  In the book, Blaine Harden describes his existence inside North Korea's most infamous "Reeducation Camp."  There are 1000s of NK people presently interned in encampments like this, from toddlers to grandparents, families that are forced to live in conditions as bad as the Nazi's concentration barracks.  There is no hope.  There is no escape.  Prisoners are literally worked to death.  (The only thing missing are ovens.)  In Harden's book, most inmates don't even know *why* they've been imprisoned to begin with, as the infraction that caused their punishment might have been as simple as not showing the proper respect to a Kim statue - or watching a South Korean soap opera, on a flash drive smuggled in from Seoul.  Kim Jong Un is a literal dictator, in one of the most dangerous places in the world.  Here's how I described the DPRK a decade ago, in my 3/19/2015 blog:

​It's no secret that North Korea is a big interest of mine.  Honestly, if I had the status to be vocal with a cause, the DPRK would be my public interest crusade.  We all know the story...we've read the books, we've seen the interviews, and we've seen the testimony given to the United Nations ' investigation on human rights violations.  North Korea's status is grim; the country has committed abuses far beyond those done by the Germans back in the 40s.

But North Korea is the ultimate tinderbox.  It's isolated, a stain in the world with a free-flow of information, and it's people have been trained to worship the Kims in the same way that Catholics are conditioned to accept the word of God - with shame as the punishment, for anyone who thinks otherwise.  In the Hermit Kingdom, the Kims are publicly revered as Gods - and the state, like Orwell's 1984, is considered more important than happiness, marriage, family - or love.  
Picture"Entangling Alliances" triggered WWI.
​THIS is the country that just signed a very-public defense agreement with Moscow, and I can't help but think of the "entangling alliances" that triggered WWI.  I often write about forgetting the lessons of history, and how Liberal Democrats have clearly forgotten their own.  While Russia teams up with North Korea, Hezbollah/Hamas have united to destroy Israel.  Now, add to that, China's made no secret it intends to annex Taiwan - and to stop the influence of western culture in the Far East.  Next, throw the open border onto the chess board (and the fact that Putin openly discusses using nuclear weapons), and it's like watching an EBS warning about an approaching storm on a global scale.  Here we have two genuine "Dictators" displaying their disdain of the US on worldwide television, yet Democrats have doubled-down on destructive social policies that don't even acknowledge the current state of the globe.  Pick your *cliche*: it's like a frog slowly boiling in water ... a thunderstorm rumbling in the distance ... lemmings going over a cliff ... it's all the same.  The oceans can't protect us from a preemptive strike anymore as both Russia & the DPRK are skilled at cyber warfare (to say nothing of China's/Iran's capabilities).  And if the United States is invaded, it will undoubtedly start with malware within our utility, financial, & communications systems, in tandem with boots on the ground in both the homeland and our allies. I've discussed this scenario in previous posts, and if you're new to this blog, I encourage you to read them - the last ten in particular.  Trump's reelection will be a turning point in history, not just in America, but on the current world stage.  I'm curious to see if Biden even covers this topic during next week's debate -  

I have confidence that Donald will.​
PictureTo quote the 80s: "I want my ME-TV!"
I WAS GETTING READY FOR TOUCHE last Saturday night, with Svengoolie in the background, on TV. I've watched the show for decades, and it's at the point where I love it as much as Mystery Science Theater in the 90s.  I haven't drawn a cartoon for a few years, but I was planning on doing one for Sven - that is, sadly, until Mad Magazine beat me to it in 2018. (My style is very similar to Mad; click on "Dave's Cartoons" on the toolbar.) I've followed Svengoolie since the 80s, and I love the fact that such a campy show still has an audience today.  Like Doocy on Fox & Friends, it's clear that Rich Koz is approaching retirement, so the station has introduced a new set of co-hosts to ease the transition.  When he does retire, I hope that Koz still stays involved in the show somehow - including the occasional appearances, both onset and local Comic-Con & in-person events.  I was making my own appearance at the bar last weekend; I've been so broke, I haven't gone out in over a month.  It was "Gear Night" at the club, so I put on as much leather as the temperature would allow.  I'd cobbled together enough money to buy a couple drinks, so I sat in John's section and said hi to a few friends.  The place was busy for Saturday night, and after making the rounds in the front bar, I found a nice corner in the Clubroom, where I watched the spectacle and checked on my Recon messages.  Here's one I got from an acquaintance; we'd been discussing politics earlier in the day:

"And as for trump. That man is a raging lunatic. To speak about killing his opponents and using a guillotine to behead those who are against him. That speaks of a tyrant and dictator. Now do we have an issue with immigrants.But let's face it if it wasn't for the immigrants workers our country would be screwed because no one wants to do the shit jobs they do. Slaughter houses would be empty, fields would not be getting tended to, and more. So they are needed. NOW, the one thing I belief should be changed is our government should not be giving them all this money and programs to live when our own people are going homeless and hungry."

"Where I live. I see Mexicans pulling 2 or 3 shopping carts full of food. Wearing designer clothes and driving super expensive cars. To me that isn't fair to our own citizens. Fine you want to come to our country here is a basic survivor program and now the rest is up to you. If you become dependent on our country then you can be deported back to your country. We should not have to support them."
PictureA New Day.
I didn't bother to answer.  There was really no point.  This is the type of attitude that defines the Liberal Chicago LGTBQ Community.  The fact this person believes Trump will use a guillotine on his opponents is ludicrous.  If he believes that nonsense, it's no wonder he buys into the daily deluge of Democrat talking points, like a Fox News montage of different Liberals saying the exact same thing.  And this is just a microcosm of what I hear every day, here in the Chicago area.  The Democrat-diehards are having Niles-from-Frasier-conniption fits over the thought of Donald's potential second term, and they're genuinely frightened that Trump will take their rights away.  But there's also a deeper undertone at play.  It's not really Trump they're afraid of, they're frightened of *change* as a whole.  It's the kind of change that all of us have when our lives get altered suddenly - and in a big way.  Quite frankly, this country needs an Intervention.  We have too many "addicts" who are addicted to bad policy.  Even for a Liberal, it's getting harder to ignore the growing national news stories about unrest overseas.  Neither Russia or North Korea give a damn about special-interest groups; their leaders could care less about offending anyone when they show off their militaries in clear defiance of UN sanctions, and the West's desire for a safe space.  And it's *space* that is REAL new "wild frontier," as China & Russia have caught up to the US quickly - especially since Obama cancelled the shuttle program, with nothing set to replace it.  Sure, Elon Musk has picked up the slack, but so have many other countries - our adversaries, in particular.  I'm reminded Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey - where the peace of the heavens above is paired against the gangs of A Clockwork Orange, acting out on the planet below. This is a turning point within human history, and unless we get our act together on Earth, we'll never survive the exploration of space.  It's as simple as that.
Picture"Hey, guys - check it out. The Reptilians are back! And this time, I'm live-streaming on Facebook."
I'VE ALWAYS WONDERED what astronauts/cosmonauts *really* see, when they look out the ISS windows.  I've read all the stories, the little details that "slip" as the NASA rocketeers get older (and they stop caring about their government NDA's).  The internet is filled with conspiratory theories of course, but I believe that's on purpose: the "crazy" theories are side-by-side with the real ones, causing one to dismiss them all.  But we've evolved enough as a species to know it's preposterous to think that we're the only ones in the Universe.  All one has to do is LOOK UP at all the stars, and then take a moment to reflect at how genuinely small we are.  On a cosmic scale, when you consider our species' *season*, we're like High School graduates who've just thrown up our tasseled hats - and now hug each other in celebration of our accomplishment.  We've all had a fun summer break, lots of bikinis, beer, and boobs, and now it's time to start acting like adults - and planning for our futures.

Like most High School graduates, we have many options.  We can pursue our educations, we can follow our passions.  We can join the military.  We can open a business.  We can take a "break year," and go off on a trip hiking Europe.  OR, we can settle for the best job we can get - and join the hourly workforce.  We've reached the point in history where humanity must decide what we're going to do with our lives, as the choices we make now will define what kind of race we become.  We can be innovators or consumers.  We can be leaders or followers.  We can plan our own destinies, or allow Liberal Democrats to control us, like Kim increasingly does to Seoul ...

(Remember that T'pau song from the 80s?:) 🎶..."Somehow, I lost my way...Looking to see something in your eyes...🎶...But love will never compromise...🎶...Now, this is the politics of life, so"...🎶

MOST importantly, we can have the bright future that Donald Trump has given us once already, or we can succumb to the bondage of Liberal policies, and allow the Russias, Chinas, Irans, Gazas, & North Koreas of the world to tell us how to live ... and whether or not we reach our own potentials. 💫

🎶..."Give a little bit of Heart and Soul"...🎶

Whatever we decide, it all comes down to our vote on November 5th. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

- Sir Dave
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Saving Ryan's Privates

6/6/2024

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Picture
"Dear Lord, if I make it off this beach, I think I'm gonna' take that job at FedEx. What could *possibly* happen there?"
THERE IS NO GREATER JOY for a man of a certain age than dimming the lights, curling up with my cat, and watching a good movie on TV.  This time of year is filled with WWII dramas of course, and after rewatching a few episodes of "Band of Brothers" on Memorial Day, I thought I'd give Saving Private Ryan another go - as I hadn't seen it since the 90s.  The last time I watched it, I had to view the graphic opening scene on MUTE, so I made it a point to turn the sound UP to fully appreciate its horror, this time around.  The opening scene is, of course, infamous: the Allied assault, terrified soldiers puking in boats, bullets in the water, young men drowning before they even reached the beach, bloodied men overtaken by shellshock - Christ!  Failure was not an option when America entered WWII, and the youth of today has *no idea* the sacrifices that had to be made to take Omaha Beach - and to win, not one, but two World Wars.  I literally wince whenever Liberals compare Trump to Hitler: "Do you even know what Hitler did? Because if you don't, you might want to ask Siri what the definition of HOLOCAUST is."  I'm serious, btw.  With as WOKE as our educational system has become, are teachers even "allowed" to describe NAZI atrocities anymore, or do they just cover The Second World War with a sanitized lecture - and a short YouTube video?  (Quick question: were the Germans called "illegal immigrants" when they invaded Poland - or did the BBC refer to them as "undocumented," to avoid hurting the stormtroopers' feelings?) It's offensive that our current generation of young people know more about the Call of Duty video game than they do about the actual war, and with each passing year, the true meaning of D-Day is rapidly being forgotten.  
Picture"No questions on Hunter, please."
When Fox News aired video of 100+year-old WWII vets being wheelchaired through the Paris airport yesterday, I thought for a moment that Biden had arrived in France early - oops.  Later, when the President *did* land in Europe, he was quickly shuffled away from the cameras without talking to press - obviously to avoid any gaffes, especially if asked about Hunter. His whole visit felt "hollow," as though he were taking advantage of the road trip to stretch his legs along a different beach than Delaware.  Luckily, "looking downward & sullen" is how Joe always looks, so at least he appeared *sorta* Presidential to mark the somber occasion.  The memorial service was attended by numerous world leaders, including French President Emmanuel Macron & Ukraine's Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Biden's speech about defending freedom & democracy was a high point obviously, though his message was clearly that of his speechwriters - not of The President, himself.  Considering the gravity of what happened in 44', it was hard not to imagine what Donald Trump would have said, had he won a second term. (HE would have spoken from the heart - not the teleprompter.)  Had Joe been in office during WWII, I can't even envision HOW we could have pulled off D-Day to begin with - particularly with how we left Afghanistan.

​Actually, that question is moot: Under Democratic leadership, The United States is currently *incapable* of  a Normandy-style military operation on the scale that would be required.  And I mean that both militarily & socially.  Sure, the B-21 Raider is a much-needed replacement for our aging fleet, but don't forget that the US projects military power with its navy - and China has a missile right now that can destroy our carriers with a push of a button.  Add to that, wokeness has infiltrated our armed forces, and rather than combat training, our servicemen are forced to sit through hours of special-interest sensitivity training - so they don't accidentally use the wrong pronoun on the battlefield. (Remember what Rush used to say? - The military is meant to do two things: kill people and break things?) This is horrible to admit, but to me, Biden's Normandy speech had an *ominous* feeling - a foreshadowing of a weakened United States, in a world that's growing more dangerous by the day.  🔥China, 🔥Russia, 🔥The Middle East, 🔥North Korea - there are...so...many...hotspots around the globe - yet Democrats just don't notice that the United States is the biggest one of all.  As we did in WWII, the USA is supposed to be able to fight two major conflicts at the same time (one on each coast) - but with the current decline of our country, we can't even fight one. Sadly, like the centenarian-vets who attended the services, if Trump doesn't retake the White House in November, today marks the very *last* time a US President will have the ability to make such a speech.  
Picture"Why is Door Dash taking so long tonight?"
IT'S A SHAME THAT CALL OF DUTY doesn't release an "America" version, the next time the software gets updated.  They wouldn't have to change the background graphics much as most Liberal-run cities have fallen into ruin, anyway.  Just pick an invader from the paragraph above, and imagine an Iranian EMP (launched by one of the DPRK's missiles that didn't crash into the Sea of Japan) - along with a coordinated attack: Russia invading the East Coast, while China assaults the West.  (I described this scenario in one of my earlier blogs, but here's the gist: it's ugly.)  Democrats have conditioned today's youth that *nobody* can take our freedom away - but they're wrong. Freedom is something that requires constant attention, and if we let our guard down - and stop actively fighting for Conservative values both at home & overseas - our fat & happy lifestyle will soon Go Away, exactly like the waning years of the Roman Empire.  This is what happens when REAL HISTORY isn't properly taught in schools, and the lessons of time are *softened* to the point where even Auschwitz ovens get described in a way that doesn't offend anyone.  There is nothing "woke" about wars, rebellions, and the extermination of peoples - but, like it or not, that's how the world works.  Rush used to say that Liberalism is "incremental," with small, hardly-noticeable policy changes that slowly build on each other.  Unfortunately, we're beyond "small changes."  What Democrats have done to this country has now gotten dangerous, as broken family units are reinforced by WOKE schools & universities - creating a society of the weak.  We've become a land of Karens & Beta-Males, incapable of the kind of courage needed to defend the nation ... and nowhere NEAR the personal convictions of The Greatest Generation that saved all of our lives eighty years ago today.  
PictureThe Best Picture of 1946.
THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES is a stirring 1946 drama, a moving story about three soldiers who are returning to civilian life after the end of World War Two.  The movie follows a trio of servicemen (with different ranks), two of them with psychological trauma - and the third who lost both arms in battle.  As most WWII films tended to focus on fighting, "The Best Years of Our Lives" was the first to really explore the *aftermath* of war - and how its emotional scars might never be healed.  One character is a successful banker; his job awaits his return.  A second man was a "soda jerk" before the conflict, but he begrudgingly returns to the drug store as no one will hire him - despite the fact that the foodservice position is demeaning, considering his military experience.  The third character is the most interesting; he was played by a real-life handicapped actor (a revolutionary idea at the time).  In one particularly tender scene, this man shows his girlfriend (and the filmgoing audience) how hard it is to take off his clothes without the use of his hands.  The film follows the men as they fight to return to something even close to normalcy, but with deep, personal demons that haunt their daily life.  The movie depicts an era that Modern Liberal Democrats are simply incapable of understanding; the sacrifices made by these three men show the type of *personal character* of someone willing to DIE for their country.  Imagine that: Being such a Patriot, you're prepared to give your life to defend your nation - because it's the right thing to do.  THAT'S the *character* that our country was built upon, yet with the exception of  MAGA Conservatives, that quality is disappearing as fast as the veterans who traveled across the globe to watch Biden's D-Day speech.

Everyone's heard the saying "War is Hell" of course, and no one knows that better than Republicans.  Not only do we remember the lessons of history, we also know the real meaning of Donald's: "We fight like hell.  And if you don't fight like hell, you're not going to have a country anymore."  In a way, it kinda' *was* a call to arms - figuratively, obviously - in the meaning behind Trump's words.  He was speaking with the raw emotion that Joe Biden failed to convey in his Normandy script.  Liberals are so preoccupied with Political Correctness/social programs, they've clueless in how the REAL "dictators" are watching our election with plans already in place.  From my 4/30 post: "​I don't buy for an instant that Iran "attacked" Israel a few weeks ago; I think they were testing the Jewish nation's defenses - predominantly with drones, and a few *real* rockets sprinkled in for effect.  The Iranian's attack forced Israel to "show its hand," so to speak - to demonstrate the efficiency/accuracy of systems like the Iron Dome."  From Hamas attacking Israel to Kim Jong UGH perfecting North Korea's missile systems, our world's genuine despots may as well be riding horseback shirtless - galloping down Omaha Beach, waving the false white flag of peace.  On Hannity last night, Trump's words were chilling: "America is a country in decline."  Think about that.  Now, think about the fact those words came from our former - and next - President.  Good world leaders know not to use inflammatory rhetoric, but only the truly GREAT ones know when such talk is necessary.  It's unsettling to watch the correspondents in Liberal media, dismissing Donald's warning: "Did you hear what Trump said?  He says we're at war - can you believe how he's intentionally scaring people?"  YES - that's the point.  YES - we should be frightened.  Even Neville Chamberlain gave up the Sudetenland with the promise that Hitler wouldn't push further into Europe, and how did *that* work out? 
Picture"We are a failing nation."
WE ARE IN THE MOST DANGEROUS PART OF HISTORY, Donald told Hannity on his show Wednesday night. The former President went on explain the growing danger of our enemies' nuclear weapons - far more powerful than the US dropped on Japan.  Humanity is on the cusp of Quantum Computing & Space Travel, but we'll never survive this era of exploration without a competent President.  Yesterday's Wall Street Journal story raised many red flags on Biden's cognitive decline, and even Bill Maher warned that Joe will lose in November - confirming that Liberals are worried.  Good - let them worry.  Let them feel the slow, burning pain Conservatives have felt since Biden was elected.  Our nation needs the Tough Love of a copentant President, not a leader who's so weak, he's using the court system to attack his opponent (while at the same time, using the same system to cover for his son).  The United States is losing cohesion under the Biden administration, and like a frog slowly boiling in hot water, we're rapidly becoming a lesser nation - so much so that even the Liberal media has no choice but to acknowledge that.  Americans have grown so self-centered under Democrats, many have forgotten how *big* the planet actually is; we have no idea what's happening in other countries - and how the saber-rattling from our overseas enemies MUST be taken seriously.
PictureAs posh as an 80s Cadillac.
THERE'S A REALLY COOL YOUTUBE VIDEO that shows the sky-high standards in which Donald maintains his private 757.  The airplane is beautiful; with its luxurious interior, regular maintenance schedule, and professional staff, the Boeing is pristine.  Mr. Trump expects nothing but the best in his life, and as he's worked hard to build his fortune - so, he's earned the right.  THIS is the kind of leader our nation needs at this turning point in history - and there is a difference between "want" and "need." Donald will maintain the United States in the same way he maintains his aircraft & personal properties: *pristine*.  Democrats make fun of Trump's lifestyle, and as a gay man in Chicago's Leather Community, I can relate.  I also understand Donald's I-don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think attitude when Liberals mock him like schoolyard bullies - as others have done to me my entire life.   What I find most impressive about Donald Trump is that with the way that Liberals have treated him these past eight years, he has the perfect opportunity to play the "victim card" - but he refuses.  Rather than victimhood, Trump proves again and again that the only way we'll reach our potentials is to ignore what others say about us, and to find courage within ourselves to do what we know is right.
PictureThe Greatest Generation
EIGHTY YEARS AGO TODAY our grandfathers stormed the beach of Normandy because they knew our way of life was in danger. They sacrificed their lives to change the direction of human history - and we're able to enjoy our current lifestyles today because of the men who lost their lives on June 6th, 1944.  The world would have been a much different place had the NAZIS succeeded - but we stopped them.  Right now, we're in a similar place in history as "intellectual war" is needed to take back our country.  Republicans have been called to duty, and we must react with the same fervor as those in WWII.  But today will be quickly forgotten by the media, as Modern Liberals will swiftly return to slanted election news.  It's up to "US" - proud Conservatives who understand the danger - to "fight like hell" so our children & grandchildren will have the freedom that we've all enjoyed ourselves, at least until recently.  Republicans must *attack* the Liberals in the same way they do us, with debates, TV & radio commercials, YouTube/TikTok videos, Facebook, X, and "Get out the Vote" arrangements to help those without transportation to cast their votes on election day (or early voting, for people who can't travel).  Like a nation going to war, it's time for Republicans to *mobilize* - and coordinate our message like the Dem's have done for years. Most of all, we must have FAITH in the knowledge that what we're doing is necessary - like the men who stormed the beach in 44', fighting for our way of life.  🇺🇸 
​
It won't be an easy fight, but it's one that Conservatives must win. 💫

- Sir Dave
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Welcome Back, Carter

6/2/2024

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Picture
The Opening Number of the Democratic National Convention.
SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER is one of my all-time favorite movies, so much so that I dedicated my 1/22 blog to it.  The film is a masterpiece, like When People Go Away it's "an ugly story disguised as something beautiful," and Rotten Tomatoes considers it one of the finest dramas of the 1970s.  Next to Star Wars, the film was the biggest flicks of 1977, so it's no wonder Hollywood decided to make a 1983 sequel: "Stayin' Alive."  As I basked in the glow of Jesse Watters reading my text on Friday, I dimmed the lights, curled up on the couch, smoked a bowl, and flipped through On-Demand to find a good flick to watch.  I'd recently re-watched Saturday Night Fever, so the movie was fresh in my mind when I realized: I've never seen the sequel.  So, I ordered the movie, settled back with my cat, and stared in horror at what turned out to be a cinematic dumpster fire on the scale of the Hindenburg disaster.
Picture"Rock me, rock me, rock me sexy Jesus..."
To fully understand what I'm about to say next, please take a moment and read my January blog: "Saturday Night Fever Dream." I personally think SNF is one of the best films of all time, and the reason it worked is because it got *everything* right:  💥Stellar script. 💥Killer soundtrack. 💥A perfect understanding of the era's racism, Catholic guilt, and gross mistreatment of women.  💥A blunt *acknowledgement* of the hopelessness of not reaching one's potential. 💥Excellent timing, with the politics of the Carter years - and on, and on.  SNF did everything right, yet Stayin' Alive did everything wrong - especially considering the strength of its source material.  The film was so bad, it was offensive.  It felt like, after Coppola's success with The Godfather, Tommy Wiseau had been selected, not only to direct Godfather II, but to *brainstorm* the project from the ground-up.  The concept was bad.  Even for a well-funded sequel, the film felt like it was done on the cheap.  The plot was ridiculous, the pacing was sitcom-fast, and the three-way love triangle was as well developed as the girlfriends in a Three Stooges short. (Chuckling...the whole thing feels like it was shot through a gauze filter.)  Saturday Night Fever is revered as a "period piece;" Stayin' Alive is, at best, a forgotten VHS rental.  Remember: the original Bee Gees soundtrack sold as many copies as Meatloaf, and features era-defining songs that can still be heard today.  With that in mind, Stayin' Alive's soundtrack has two forgettable Gibb Brothers B-sides, with a primary focus on frivolous 80s pop; they didn't even splurge on Laura Branigan, Toto - or an up-and-coming Madonna.  The original film revolved around Tony's "2001" Disco, a magical world of lights, color, music, and couples-dancing.  Stayin' Alive however, builds up to a preposterous Broadway dance show (where Tony is given the lead at the very last second, btw) with a shimmering marquee title in big, white lights ... (wait for it)... SATAN'S ALLEY. 

​Further wiping toilet paper into the filmgoer's face, Julie Bovasso reprised her role as Mrs. Manero in time to see her son dance onstage - in what, by that point in the movie, had basically devolved into a BDSM horror show. BUT THE BIGGEST CRIME OF ALL was the sheer *wasted potential* of the movie in that, Stayin' Alive, had the Producers really thought about it, could have been as great as Saturday Night Fever - in its own way. No, it would have never been as good as the original film, but it could have captured the era of the early 80s that everyone has forgotten.  As mentioned in my post "The Dark Side of the Rainbow Flag," 1982/83 was the start of the modern digital age.  Atari's hit the market, home computers were selling as fast as Cabbage Patch Kids, and electronics' LED's suddenly appeared within car interiors.  Satellite dishes brought cable TV to rural areas, and for the first few years, you could actually see news anchors talk off camera, during commercial breaks. Ronald Reagan was taking back America, and the whole era's "color palette" had softened; everything was mauve, grey, & Wedgewood blue. Everyone remembers the *crazy* 80s, but few recall the period from 1980-1983 when our culture went through a moment of "awakening."  The Soviet Union was starting to come apart, CNN went on the air, new technology was popping up everywhere, and Americans felt prosperous under the Republican administration. Add to that the incredible late 70s/early 80s music evolution, and that's what Stayin' Alive should have been about.  The film had the chance to be a worthy follow-up to a piece of ART, but instead it took the easy way out - and wasted its potential.  And "wasting our potential" is exactly what's happening now, as Liberals dance like actors in a bad movie after Trump was found guilty with felonies.
PictureThe gloves are off.
IT WAS FITTING THAT THE ORANGE MAN WORE A BLUE TIE when his verdict was read last week.  Blue is the color of Israel, and I was reminded of Netanyahu when I watched the images of Donald leaving the courtroom - as his haters cheered.  I'm a *tie guy* (ahem); I love men's neckties, and I always wear a nice one whenever I go to Touche.  Donald tends to wear solid reds & navy stripes, but when I saw him give a statement after his gag order was lifted, a chill went up my spine when I noticed the blue one. He was so angry.  I was angry, too.  There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said in the media, except to to quote our next Commander & Chief: The trial was a sham. Everything about it: it's timing, the pacing, the gag order, the bias of the judge, the strategic weekends off, and the ludacris jury instructions designed to guarantee conviction - shameless.  In the hours following the verdict, I was tempted to switch from Fox to see what the other networks were saying - but I just couldn't do it.  My heart was in despair for the poor Fox anchors giving live, offsite commentary, as the Democrats reveled in earshot.  (I wanted to reach into the screen and hug them.)  Fox's evening's shows did a good job gathering montages, though; like lions eating a gazelle, the Liberals savagely tore Trump to pieces in every segment they aired.  The reaction of The View was particularly abhorrent (I've hated those people since Whoopie threw Judge Jeanine off the air), and if Joy Behar really did piss herself a little on hearing the verdict, at least she can pull down her Beverly Crusher bangs to help cover the wet spot.   

I'm not going to repeat myself - please read my older posts for extensive comments - on how much damage modern Liberalism has done to this country.  Instead, allow me to share the "Stayin' Alive" moment that has happened with Trump's trial, itself - which is good news for Republicans.  First off, I have faith in the court system: I genuinely believe the verdict will be reversed in appeals - unless, God forbid, Democrat's corruption has completely infiltrated the court system; if that's the case, to the Supreme Court we go!  The Stormy Daniels trial/verdict was Liberal's all-out assault to destroy the former President, and the Democrats have shown us how *far* they're willing to go.  The Liberals are so confident that the media has their back, they're brazen enough not to "hide their hand" - and to openly use the Justice System as a weapon to destroy a private citizen.  We've watched the spectacle unfold for a month, and that includes the chilling, exasperating, coordinated attack from the left-wing news services.  The Democrats think they've won, and they're arrogant enough to dismiss anyone saying otherwise.  That gives Republicans the advantage - 🎶 Cuz, you've got to have FAITH 🎶 - because we understand the real pulse of the people, and how voters - like me - are sick of sidelining American Excellence for damaging Democratic social policies, Political Correctness in particular.  
PictureIs it my imagination, or is Joe's face melting faster than the iced cream? Also, are the Secret Service agents the ones in tye-dye T-shirts or wrinkled suits?"
You see, the "Stayin' Alive" moment here is just how much the Liberals completely misunderstand the mood of the country right now.  Citizens are furious at the economy, and the border has become such a crisis, even CNN can't put a good spin on the story.  Gas is expensive, food is expensive, utilities are expensive, and people are starting to pay attention to the news overseas.  Everyone is angry, both Republican & Democrat, and the *Donald Trumps* who keep the country running have finally gotten pissed off.  From the local voters on Fox & Friends' "offsite diner" segments (Great job, Lawrence!) to the movers & shakers like Elon Musk, the Biden administration has pushed them over the edge with its sheer incompetence.  *Everybody's* sick of Karine Jean-Pierre's "Baghdad Bob" news conferences, particularly when she's pressed to answer questions about the President's mental state (and - UGH - John Kirby, who, when asked questions about national defense issues, sounds *exactly* like "Michael Scott" from The Office).  It's horrifying.  Especially with how dangerous the world is right now. I've mentioned in previous blogs that black people are finally starting to realize how much the Democrats have failed them for 40 years, and that the current venom within the Liberal media comes from correspondents realizing they're losing their base. The "Stayin' Alive" moment: Liberals are doubling-down on a bad premise. Just like the film's Producers chose to focus on the "frivolous" 80s, Democrats have chosen to push forward on their four-plus-decade playbook - as though the world hasn't changed since Carter was elected.  
​
Despite their PhD's, Liberals can't understand such simple concepts as: 🎓Debt must be paid back.  🎓The world has become a dangerous place - and at this point in history, it's not supposed to be that way.  🎓The United States was put on the earth by GOD, and was meant to lead other nations with Exceptionalism. 🎓The human body is designed for one thing: Reproduction - That's a non-negotiable part of God's Intelligent Design. 🎓 The Universe is a jungle, and only the strong species survive!  Those of us who have Faith already know these things, but those who don't - those who wrongly believe that the Bible is about dogma, not Tough Love - are the ones who are going to get "eaten alive" (so to speak) as we begin to explore space. 

​The Age of Aquarius is happening all around us, yet only the faithful can see it - and how important it is "to get this country on track, FAST."  Like Stayin' Alive, we have the Perfect Storm of OPPORTUNITIES: 🌩️ Our President is dangerously senile, and the Chain of Command is unexceptable.  🌩️The Country is falling apart, both physically, but more importantly, socially. 🌩️ The Republican base is energized.  🌩️ The Democrats: CORRUPT, from the court system to the Presidency.  🌩️  The media openly & unashamedly displays its bias to the point of being *unbelievable* to viewers - especially lower-income voters.  🌩️ China. 🌩️Russia.  🌩️The Middle East.  🌩️North Korea.  🌩️The Economy.  🌩️The Border.  🌩️The dawn of Space Travel.  🌩️The dawn of Quantum Computing.  🌩️HEY - has anyone noticed that humanity isn't the only species in the Universe (and that maybe other worlds are waiting for us to get our shit together, before they land on the White House lawn?).  Add to that, after what the Dem's have done to Donald in the legal system, the gloves are off!  And by that I mean, it's time to get angry.  And by that I mean, not a call to arms of course, but a call to fight dirty.  And by THAT I mean (and I can't believe I agree with Hillary on something, but it applies in this case) is that Trump needs to thoroughly prepare for the DEBATE. 

... Annnnnnd that debate must focus on our country's potential.💫
PictureLike most Liberals, Maher didn't wear a tie to the interview.
THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LIBERALISM and "Modern" Liberalism, and Bill Maher isn't a "Modern Liberal."  I was surprised - and delighted - when he popped up on Gutfeld last week, and I LOL'd when Maher unashamedly interrupted Greg's long-winded monologue.  I've always liked Bill Maher.  He caught my attention a few years back, when Ann Coulter appeared on his show.  I enjoy Mr. Maher because he's intelligent, witty, he thinks fast on his feet, he presents his case with easy-to-understand bullet points, *and* he always knows the purrrrrrfect place to drop an F-bomb.  Maher seemed subdued when he appeared on Gutfeld's show, but he still was funny.  I don't remember the specifics of his segments - I know he got laughs - but what struck me was the fact he was on Fox to begin with.  How cool, I thought.  This is what politics should really be about.  Smart, respectful, level-headed Liberals with smart, respectful, level-headed Conservatives, each debating without the restraints of Political Correctness - AND a sense of humor.  I'm more familiar with Gutfeld than Maher, but knowing what I've observed on Greg's program over the years, I can see why they'd be friends.  I don't know what Mr. Gutfeld's feelings on cannabis are, but I'd love to get stoned with him, Maher, and The Coultergeist someday - and just talk about *stuff*.  Maher can provide the drugs of course, Greg can bring the KFC,  Coulter can bring candles & incense, I'll bring an EpiPen pen - and a lot of good music on my phone.

Going back to "Modern Liberalism," I'm talking specifically about the current Democrat party - not "Old School" Lib's like Maher.  Our government was designed to be a balance of multiple parties, and two parties work nicely, with a Yin & Yang swish.  Though I vote Republican, I'm actually a Libertarian - and I have much in common with Democrats, especially with their social policies (obviously).  I even support the green agenda, though - like Rush always used to say - We can't help the environment with legislation; we *help* the environment by not artificially-restricting the natural growth of technology - which also damages the economy.  I honestly find smart Democrats like Maher as reasonable as fellow Republicans.  In earlier posts of this blog, especially when describing the Leather Community, I spoke of how I have no problem peacefully coexisting with Chicago's Liberals ... it's often them that have a problem with *me*.  As a Conservative, I vehemently disagree with the city's politics, but as it's MY choice to live here, I'm not going to bitch that almost all my local friends are Liberals. Yes, my close friends are Conservative of course, but my Chicago friends - like the guys at the bar - haven't cast a ballot for a Republican since Jimmy Carter was in power.  And I'm not just talking buds in the BDSM community, I'm referring to my LGBTQ friends as a whole.  I know retail managers, private contractors, a College Art Department director, bartenders, retirees, a "singing mechanic" - and everybody in between.  80% of my immediate friends are Liberal, yet I still have no problem getting along with them; we all just know to be respectful when talking politics with each other.  The easiest way to explain it is, "Old School Liberals respect Republicans, Modern Liberals don't."  It's is simple as that.  Like Hannity & Colmes.  Modern Liberals refuse to listen to Conservatives because they don't respect us - so they won't even acknowledge our pleas to do something as obvious as secure the southern border.  And what is the refusal to acknowledge someone?  "Elitism."  That's the worst form of arrogance.  And arrogance as powerful as the current Democratic Machine can only be stopped by a man with a strong enough persona to engage it. 

​Sadly, it's come to that.
PictureThe Biden Presidential Cabinet, circa 1975.
WELCOME BACK KOTTER premiered in 1975, and was the perfect way to introduce the world to Jimmy Carter's America.  Our economy was sluggish, there were lines for gas at service stations, and the President had nerve to make a prime-time address, telling Americans to tighten our belts like a straightjaket.  The Democrats hadn't invested in the military, and our country felt *weak* during the Iranian Hostage Crisis.  In the middle of the gas shortage -  and the trend towards socially-relevant sitcoms - Welcome Back Kotter did a nice job checking off all the diversity boxes, and introduced the country to a young John Travolta. The Sweathogs were the *Muppets* of their day, the young, fresh cast of racially-diverse team-players - and, as was the requirement of the era, almost every main character had a quirk, catch-phrase, or appearance in PLAYGIRL magazine.  ("Up your nose with a rubber hose" indeed, Mr Kotter.)  I mention the show because it's a really neat *period piece*, created during a time in our history when Modern Liberalism was just getting its start.  Back then, the Libs still had our *respect*, so it was easy to tolerate their Sesame Street silliness.  We were only a decade out of the sixties, Shell Silverstein was writing poetry, Halston was doing lines with Capote at Studio 54, and though the hippies had begrudgingly gotten jobs, the whole country still smelled a little like spilled bong water.  The early-80s cultural shift was right around the corner, and the Liberals of the time were still well-meaning - especially the ones with puppets. 

When the Soviet Union took the place of Vietnam, voters were still concerned about national defense when the 1st hints of Modern Liberal craziness began to surface on the coasts.  For me, I noticed the change in political landscape when celebrities started "making statements" during awards ceremonies.  I forget the year, but somewhere in the late 80s, Cybill Shepherd wore a floor-length dress to one of the big shows; when she lifted it onstage, she was secretly wearing fluorescent-orange Reebok high tops - which marked the first time I'd ever seen such intentional product-placement within a national broadcast.  Yeah, I know, orange shoes on an awards show might not *seem* like an important thing, but like Rush always said, "Modern Liberalism is incremental. Lib's are thinking years into the future, and the little things they're doing now, they're doing on purpose."  Again, please notice the Stayin' Alive moment: We've lived with growing Modern Liberalism for 45 years, and look at where it's gotten us. 
Picture"Basking in the glow..."
I believe Mr. Carter used to describe his view from his White House Residence as something like, "The Lawn That Overlooks America."  Nowadays, when you look across the country, you see crime, despair, corruption, and social decline - and that's the result of Democrat's *incremental failure* over decades.  And all of us have lived with this decline for so long, even Conservatives have had trouble seeing it - but now, *everyone's* eyes are starting to open - as Biden exits his press conference with a *squint*.


​Chuckling...now all we need is to just keep Donald out of jail until November. 😬

Of course, if he DOES get taken into custody, I happen to know a guy with an extra handcuff key. 

-Sir Dave
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Tony, the Paper Tiger

5/23/2024

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Picture
"Hold the pickles, hold the lettuce - special orders for the Debate don't upset us..."
THE VERY FIRST E-MAIL I EVER SENT was to Rush Limbaugh's old Compuserve address, back in the 90s.  It was a pitch for a Denny's commercial, making fun of the company's political correctness.  In the parody, I had a *typical* family of four visiting a local Denny's: a white father, a black mother, a Mexican son, and a North Korean baby.  I set the commercial to Sly Fox and the Family Stone's "Everyday People" - 🎶 "Sometimes I'm right, and I can be wrong - 🎶 - My own beliefs are in this song - 🎶 - The butcher, the banker, the drummer, and then - 🎶 - makes no difference what group I'm in" 🎶.   The restaurant was packed with every type of Special Interest group I could think of: blacks, gays, feminists, transgenders, illegals - and included a waitress with Tourettes, a busboy in a wheelchair (who kept bumping into tables/running over feet as he worked), Work Release cooks with no hands (so they had to flip pancakes with bare feet), employees covered in tattoos, and a manager who was so flaming, he almost set the place on fire.  The commercial's voice-over included Amy Sedaris: "At Denny's, the diversity of our employees is as vast as our selection of Grand Slams!"  Chuckling.  Sadly, I don't have a copy of the email anymore - nor do I know if Rush ever saw it.  I waited tables at Denny's for many years when I was younger, and I used the restaurant in my second book, The Saturday Night Everlasting.  The last time I worked for Denny's, I actually won a company-wide 💡Bright Idea Contest💡.  The contest was open to all employees, and challenged us to find/suggest ways to improve Denny's, itself.  Most of my coworkers participated.  They stuffed the entry box with requests for free food, remodeling the dining room, and increasing employee pay.  As the company was very frugal with money, I kept that in mind when submitting my own entry.  My idea was simple: take one of the kitchen's many dry-erase boards (that usually kept tabs on food costs) and repurpose it as a Daily Who's Who.  *Raul is working the grill.  *Consuela is on the deep fryers.  *Jose is the busboy, *Carlos is running the dishwasher - that sort of thing.  I closed my letter with a line so syrupy, it almost made me hurl: "Knowing someone's name is the best way to make a new friend."  (Seriously - I won a national contest with that schlock!) My regional prize was a $1000 check - and a one-in-four chance of winning a trip to Disneyland.  I took the cash, but called corporate and had myself withdrawn from the Grand Prize drawing.  (I figured that there was some single mother in the contest who supported her family by waiting tables; she clearly deserved the vacation more than me.)  The people at corporate called me a "decent human being" for withdrawing, but truth be told, as a man who despises children, a trip to family-friendly Disneyland sounded like hell on earth.
PictureSitting still in the Trump-ster fire.
Speaking of hell on earth, Trump seems to be holding up in his New York trial. (See the mention of *elder abuse* in my last blog.)  I can't even imagine how furious is - with the kind of anger that can cause a stroke, for a man his age.  Every...single...Liberal media outlet is united in a coordinated attack to destroy this man, yet he swats them aside like gnats.  I love how stern he looks.  People often say the same of me. And most misinterpret the "meaning" of the look: it's not disgust, it's worry.  And how can one not be worried with the condition of the world - and the incontinence (Whoops - meant to say "incompetence") in the White House?  The precedent of dragging an ex-President into public court is horrifying.  Presidents require a certain immunity for the time they are in office.  Can you imagine if Harry Truman, after saving the world by dropping the atomic bomb, got hauled into court for human rights violations - not to mention all the trees he killed?  The Michael Cohen testimony was embarrassing.   When I learned he pulled a Linda Tripp on Trump (and secretly taped his calls), I was surprised that Donald didn't "sense" his character earlier, but at least he knew enough not to include Cohen in his White House staff.  To me, after Cohen's testimony, the trial seems over.  I have faith in the "truth," not the court system, and as the prosecution is unraveling with Cohen's admission of theft, we must wrap this up fast - so The Orange Man can resume his campaign.  The one thing that I haven't heard anyone mention (except possibly Hannity) is how W E A K this trial makes us appear to our enemies overseas. Democrats are so preoccupied with damaging social policies, they've failed to look beyond the horizon - and to consider the consequence of Russia & China finally making their moves, once it's clear that our President is at his weakest.  And with Biden growing more incoherent by the day, the attack can happen anytime. 
PictureCan you imagine if Israel were responsible for the crash?
I WOKE UP TO THE NEWS that Iran's President was killed in a helicopter crash​ yesterday morning.  As of today, it doesn't look intentional - whew!  I don't know much about the Iranian leadership structure, or how stable their government will be with the sudden loss of a President, so I can't really comment on that. What I can say is that with Iran's recent attack on Israel, I'm worried that he next Iranian leader might be emboldened to continue the assault - further destabilizing the region - and threatening our Jewish ally.  I can't help but think of the money that we're spending by supporting Israel - where is it coming from?  (Especially with what we've been forced to send Kyiv.)  With the condition of our economy, I cringe with every mention of sending weapons to both Israel and Ukraine (which, btw, are both allies I support); with all our resources going to social programs, how much longer do we think that our Treasury can hold out?  💰Money💰 is drumbeat behind every news story - $ to Israel, $ to Zylenski, $ to the immigration crisis, $ to the Liberal agenda, $, $, $ - are we just printing the shortfall?  Our reckless spending is *another* reason Trump needs to win back the office: we're so far in debt, only a great BUSINESSMAN can get us out of it.  Especially with the money we'll have to spend to fix the present condition of the country. 

When Liberal LGBTQ friends ask me *why* I vote Republican, they always accompany their question with talking-points: *The GOP doesn't like gays! *The GOP are bullies! *The GOP doesn't like immigrants! *The GOP wants to take my Disability away!  *The GOP wants to take Transgenders and sew their penises back on!  My standard answer is something like: "The reason that we get to have this discussion about special interest issues is because previous Republican administrations have invested in our national defense.  The military provides an *umbrella* of protection, which allows us to have this discussion in the first place."  To me, this is obvious; the Republicans built the house that the Democrats get to play in.  But they just don't get it.  And they've put us all in danger.  As mentioned above, with as in-debt as we already are, do you realize how much money we NEED to spend to stop the destruction of the country?  💵 to immediately secure the border?  💵 to immediately invest in the military?  💵 to fortify our infrastructure against an EMP or cyber attack?  💵 to apologize for slavery and begin the process to pay reparations in twelve years?  💵 to reform the justice & education systems?  And the HARD ONE: 💵 to immediately launch Republican-led initiatives (in governmental, educational, and religious platforms) to spread the importance of the traditional family unit (in regards to the *attitude* of today's youth) to stop the growth of Socialism.  Unfortunately, we have to spend $$$ to clean up our own mess before we have the cash to help clean up others'.  Again, we need a businessman ...
Picture"I spy with my little eye..."
HOW SAD IT IS that the state of the Presidency has been reduced to peeing in a cup.  I loved how Trump immediately agreed to Biden's terms to debate - provided that Joe pass a drug test beforehand.  How humiliating for us as a nation. My view of the Presidency is that the office must be held in reverence, even if the administration is Democrat.  Rush used to go on and on about this topic, especially when sitting Presidents would appear on late-night talk shows.  Like me, Rush felt that appearing on a unashamedly-left-wing program was beneath the dignity of the office.  I remember feeling uneasy when Clinton played saxophone on Arsenio, but it drove me fucking crazy when I'd watch Obama on Kimmel or Letterman, kickin' back for laughs with jokes at Republicans' expense. The Presidency should be "Presidencial," with dignity, formality, and etiquette.  The "Office of the Presidency" should always be held in *reverence*, no matter what party is in power.  Somewhere in my blogs, I compared Biden's Secret Service to nurses in a retirement home, carefully helping a elderly resident walk.  Our President is feeble both physically & mentally, and China, Russia, & the Middle East are using that fact against us - starting with Iran.  A timid President is a dangerous President, especially when he wields Political Correctness instead of military might. 

It's disheartening to see the condition of Biden's America, as we approach the election.  Here in Chicago, it feels like the whole city's falling apart - and you can't even walk The Loop at night these days.   There are boarded-up shops along every downtown sidewalk, and violent shootings - that happen on a nightly basis - barely make the news anymore.  There are more beggars than buskers, and pedestrians that hold their purses/wallets close. Liberal crime policies have turned this city into a shell of what it once was, and it saddens me deeply to know that most other larger US cities are on the same path.  While Biden pees in a cup, the homeless urinate on the streets.  I'm reminded of the "Russia Hoax" during Trump's administration - when Liberals insinuated that Putin had a tape of Donald going to town with a pissing prostitute, while staying in a Moscow hotel.  This is the state of the Presidency right now under current Democratic leadership, and if we don't put Trump back in office, our country will continue its decline as we lose our "Superpower" status.  And as God created the USA to be the world's moral compass, if China & Russia overtake us on the national stage, it's the planet that will suffer - as we begin our exploration of space.  We can't let that happen.
PictureJesus was ripped.
THE BIBLE SAYS THAT CHRIST WILL RETURN, and usher in 1000 years of peace.  This return coincides with our species beginning the exploration of space - as humanity finally begins to understand its place in the cosmos. I'm surprised more people aren't thinking about this: Jesus will come back to help humanity in this important moment of human evolution.  Humanity is on the cusp of The Age of Aquarius with the arrival of Quantum Computing.  Our whole world is changing with this important technology, and it's our Manifest Destiny to leave our planet, explore the stars, and learn Time Travel in a thousand years. At the very least, we're facing a food shortage if we don't make great strides in space exploration - and find a world where we can grow more stuff to eat.  Like a family that's outgrown its first house, the people of Earth are outgrowing our planet, and it's time for us to "leave the nest," and start acting like adults in the same way parents send teenagers off to college.  The Bible has taught us basic lessons of right & wrong, and the new Bible - When People Go Away - The First Book in the New Holy Bible for the Era of Quantum Technology - continues those lessons by reintroducing God into a world that's largely forgotten him.  The new Bible delves deep into social issues, and focuses on the Democrat's brazen hypocrisy - and the intolerance caused by its refusal to acknowledge a Higher Power.  I hate repeating myself in these blogs, but if humanity doesn't stop and look UP at all the stars in the sky, yes, we'll make it off the planet - but we'll be unable to leave the solar system with manned space ships, like Elon Musk is working on right now.  Quite frankly, if we keep voting for Democrats (in their current form), we'll never reach the heavens - as we slowly Go Away because we exhausted finite resources.  Think about that the next time you go grocery shopping: "Do I want four more years of higher & higher grocery/gas/goods prices, or do I want a businessman with a lifetime of experience making responsible decisions under similar circumstances?"  If you said "businessman," then we need to end this Klingon Show Trial now, and allow Trump to continue campaigning for the White House.  

I'd love to see a Fox & Friends "Breakfast with Friends" segment, where Lawrence Jones interviews Donald at a Denny's somewhere.  I'd like Trump to take the microphone and work his way through the crowd.  It would be cool for Mr. Trump to pass the mike around to diners, and talk one-on-one with them - in regards to what they're life has been like under a Biden Presidency.  Lawrence does a great job with the crowd, but I want Donald to work his *magic*, and answer diner's concerns on live TV.  If done right, the "video clips" from the moment can be used in a campaign commercial - or better yet, a *series* of TV spots featuring voters in their elements, taking the microphone from the Donald and sharing their grievances to the television viewers.  Let the voters share how exasperated they are with the present state of the country, and then allow Trump describe his own Tough Love solutions to Make America Great Again.  (Chuckling - think of Tony the Tiger: "America's Greeeeeeat!").  Rather than traditional advertisements (which also must run), I'm envisioning a line of Republican commercials that focus on the positive interactions between Trump & Americans, from Fox & Friends breakfast segments to heartfelt pieces taken along our Southern Border.   After Democrats fail to convict Donald in this ridiculous New York spectacle l, I know Trump will hit the ground running - without a gag order. And when that happens, I hope he takes off the gloves. 
Picture"The Lyin' King" ; Biden's Paper Tiger
🎶"I AM NO BETTER AND NEITHER ARE YOU...🎶...we're all the same, whatever we do...🎶...You love me, you hate me, you know me and then...🎶...You can't figure out what bag I'm in...🎶...I am everyday people"🎶.  It's sad that Democrats - the party that preaches Tolerance for everyone - are often the most Intolerant of all: I'm gay, come on in!  I'm an undocumented immigrant, welcome friend!  I'm an illegal Transgender Muslim who identifies as a *bird* today, then join us - we'll hold the skylight open for you!   But you're a Republican?  Who believes in traditional values? And you support Trump? GET OUT!  YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE!  I'm reminded of schoolyard bullies who forced me to eat my lunch in the Library, as no one would talk to me because I was gay.  And I know that's how most Conservatives feel in our current administration, as every media outlet except Fox is united in a coordinated attack to stop Trump in his tracks.  For a country built on faith, this is unacceptable.  And very dangerous.

Our world is at a crossroads, and the November election will be our reckoning.  It's scary to see that prominent Conservative commentators like Hannity have been forced to move to (Republican) Florida, rather than endure the Liberal-led decline of other major states.  I wince when I watch the news, the attack on Israel, Russia in Ukraine, China threatening Taiwan, North Korea threatening everybody, the kangaroo-court Trump-trial, the insidious invasion of political correctness into government...our enemies are salivating.  I encourage you to do your own research; do a deep-dive on any of the mentioned issues, and note how the US has responded.  In a previous blog, I mentioned "Jaka Parker" - a diplomat who secretly recorded daily life in Pyongyang and posted the videos on YouTube.  His videos are a *cry for help*, and his YouTube channel is clearly meant for an American audience.  The DPRK is just ONE of our world's hot spots, peoples who need the United State's intervention to stop its citizens' misery.  But like other dangerous places, the US is simply unable to answer NK's cries because our current Democratic leadership has weakened our country's ability to respond.   How can we help other countries solve their problems, when we can't do something as simple as helping the homeless on our own soil?  And this problem has grown so big that the US is literally one election away from losing the sedentary lifestyle that many have grown accustomed to. 

🎶..."There is a yellow one that won't accept the black one...🎶...that won't accept the red one...🎶...that won't accept the white one...🎶"
​
There aren't many DoorDash options when a foreign power is marching its troops down Main Street - and Biden is just a Paper Tiger.

Food for thought. ✨

- Sir Dave
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A Dark & Stormy Knight

4/30/2024

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Picture
Twelve Angry White Men - Not a Black Dude in the room.
IT'S HARD NOT TO SMILE when watching Batman after Svengoolie on Saturday nights, as I get ready for Touche.  The show is just awful, in the best possible way.  The sets are cheap, the colors garish, and Adam West is so tall & lanky, his costume resembles a skeleton with skin.   The bad Robin lines - "Holy Dental-Hygiene," Batman!" -  are hysterical, and the show gets even funnier when viewed on a High Definition Television.  The sets are clearly made of plywood, and HDTV shows every seam, blemish, nail hole bump, and streak in the set's fast spaintjob - as the same lumber is recycled over & over, when filming the weekly series.  I knew that Caesar Romero's moustache was covered in makeup of course, but I never realized that Burgess Meredith smoked *actual* cigarettes when playing his character.  I stopped buffing my boots and squinted at the TV when I noticed The Penguin's cigarette was dropping ashes onto a velvet chair's flammable upholstery, while he spoke. Chuckling - I couldn't help but think: The paint on that set is so fresh, I can still smell the polyurethane. Were there *any* Fire Safety laws on the books in 1967?  I mean between the latex costumes, the wooden sets, the snakes & coils of electrical cables everywhere, the age of the studio itself, the drug use of the era, and the fact that everyone smoked in the sixties, it's a miracle these guys didn't die in a fire!  I imagined what the show might look like today, in the era of CGI.  It definitely wouldn't be as fun of course, but it would be interesting to see a green screen's interpretation of the Bat Cave.  It would probably look like Joe Biden's "Oval Office set",  when he pretends to make *a White House address* - with out-of-season flowers blooming in the background window.  
PictureWell, at *least* it wasn't the Halloween background.
Speaking of Oval Office sets, the White House staff barely time to roll out its own as Iran rained missiles & drones on Tel Aviv - after Biden told them: "DON'T."  You know it was bad because Biden skipped his Delaware weekend, but now, a few weeks later, it feels like the Israeli war to defend itself barely makes the newscycle.  I mean, can you just *imagine* what would happen if Mexico suddenly/unexpectedly attacked the USA - and what *our* response might be?  With Biden's dementia?  With the Open Border?  With the CARTELS?  With the countless terrorist cells already in the country?  I shudder to think of the Order of Succession, as Kamala is next, with Pelosi sharpening her fingernails behind.  And while this is happening, our most competent leader of the past twenty years is being forced to *sit* for six-to-eight-weeks as the Prosecution paints Stormy Daniels like a Victim as credible as Christine Blasey Ford.  The elder-abuse towards 77-yr-old Donald alone is staggering.  The even *worse* elder-abuse is happening in the White House now, as the staff moves the President from room to room, like Weekend at Bernie's.  I hate cliches, but Trump has the right to speak in all caps: IT'S A GODDAMN WITCH HUNT.  Our entire legal system is being used to destroy a former US President, yet no one seems to give a damn - or can sense how dangerous this precedent is setting.  Between the court system, the Liberal's coordinated media assault, and the steady anti-Trump venom from Democrats everywhere, what's happening with the upcoming election literally gives me h i v e s.   Destroying a private citizen is bad enough, but destroying a former President is flat-out reprehensible when you consider the state of the world right now.  A President needs his immunity; it's the only he can do his job.  (Or "She" - if that President is Ann Coulter). We're so preoccupied with Political Correctness, no one can hear the saber rattling of Russia, China, and more recently, Palestine & Iran.  To me, the world seems like it's on fire.  And there's clearly a global chess game being played, with China attacking Taiwan at the same time Russia moves into Ukraine - and later, Poland.  To quote my 3/22 blog: "It's like a Chess game where a bad player (who barely understands basic strategy) is pitted against a *gifted* player (who thinks 30 moves ahead) - with the future of the world being determined by the winner." And as Biden is a far-better pickleball player than Chess Master, you know who's winning this global match.  I don't buy for an instant that Iran "attacked" Israel a few weeks ago; I think they were testing the Jewish nation's defenses - predominantly with drones, and a few *real* rockets sprinkled in for effect.  The Iranian's attack forced Israel to "show its hand," so to speak - to demonstrate the efficiency/accuracy of systems like the Iron Dome.  Iran attacked, Israel responded - and the Militant Islamic world observes Israel's defense strategy. And now that the terrorists know the limits of Israel's systems (and Biden's tepid support), they'll change their approach for when the real attack happens - in conjunction, I'm guessing, with Jinping/Putin - both tapping ashes onto their own upholsteries - launching incursions into Taiwan & Kiev. 

Liberals just don't realize how important our relationship with Israel really is... 
Picture"If you want it, here it is, come and get it..."
WE ALL LIVE IN A MELLOW APATHY was one my favorite Paul Shanklin parodies, back when Rush was on the air.  The song was a rip-off of the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine," and Limbaugh played it frequently, in the decades before his death.  The song is particularly chilling these days, as American Power is being threatened from within by thirty-plus years of Liberal social policies - and the apathy that has ensued. I discussed this in my 3/22 post, with bullet-points of all the growing dangers within our world - as our country's youth can barely get off the couch to retrieve their Door Dash order.  Americans have grown lazy. We're all but oblivious to the dangers overseas, and to the open border that has let those dangers in.  I often smile (sadly) when Dane watches the news with me.  Dane is wickedly intelligent; we frequently have deep discussions on matters while doing mundane chores like washing dishes & folding laundry.  I actually don't know how Dane will vote in November; he says he's not a Republican, but he has many conservative qualities. Specifically, Dane has genuine *compassion* for his fellow humankind, an empathy I almost never see from Liberals.  Dane comes from a much poorer background then me, and he's used to living within Democratic social policies - including the LINK card we need for groceries.  Since completing When People Go Away, Dane has showed me how to juggle bills, take advantage of utilities' payment plans, how to defer my credit card payments, and, later today, how to negotiate with my lender in regards to my mortgage payments (and it unsettles me to see how skilled he is in doing that).  I just turned 55 a few weeks back, and for the first time in my life, I'm struggling to pay the bills.  It saddens me that I'm in this position, but it hurts me even more to know that Dane has lived like this for much of his life so far.  In a way, he's living in a "mellow apathy" - yet he doesn't seem to realize it.  I can't blame him, though.  It did, after all, take me fifty-three years before realizing I was living in my own.  
Picture"Excuse me - Is this the Juan Diller funeral?"
SPEAKING OF MELLOW APATHIES, I see Joe's really picked the pace in his public appearances to take advantage of Trump's weekly - ahem - "bondage." (Kidding.)  With Donald tied down in court - and gagged like Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction - you'd think that our current sitting President might *use the situation to his advantage*, and hit the ground running (or, at least, go as fast as his no-slip loafers will allow) on the campaign trail, you know?  I mean, we know that his schedule is clear - and that Air Force One still has the bedroom that Nancy Reagan decorated, so Joe can nap during flight, right?  Just squeegee the Bath Salts Hunter left on the Oval Office desk, and use them in Biden's actual bath!  I've made it clear that Chuck Schumer looks like Mr. Burns (it's in my X feed somewhere), but whenever I think of Joe Biden these days, I'm reminded of Smithers having to move Mr. Burns' appendages because he was too old to do it himself.  I've seen a few Biden videos these past two weeks, but nothing more than the usual gaffes. Watching Secret Service *gently* move him like a nursing home patient grows more unsettling by the day, and I can only imagine what other World Leaders must be thinking - playing their chess games, salivating.  The man is a cadaver on puppet strings.  And I dare say that at this point, Kamala might have better cognitive abilities than him.  So, *who's* running the country, you ask?  My, how sharp Nancy Pelosi's comments/demeanor have become lately. I couldn't help but notice that during one of Schumer's press conferences, his always-perfect tie was "crooked" - as though he'd just changed his mind on hanging himself, and frantically threw himself together while staff pounded on his door.  Yes - I jest, but only to a point:  Biden is being played by World Leaders.  He does need to be "shuffled" from room to room, place to place - and at this point, it's become an issue.  His cognitive decline is visible in every single video - and these are just the ones the White House lets us see!  Joe just oozes "feebleness."  He looks like he'd need to use two fingers to push the nuclear button.  And though he's surrounded by a staff who protects him in a Safe Space, there are those in his party who know the severity - and national danger - of this issue who aren't so scripted, when in front of a camera. At least with Kennedy entering the race, most of the cameras will be focused on him.

(Storm Clouds Rumbling...🌩️🌩️🌩️)
PictureReminds me of keeping my hands folded in Catholic school.
GOING BACK TO BATMAN, Donald Trump - my current favorite Superhero - was forced to skip the week's campaigning because of his court appearance.  I'm so angry with this, I don't even know what to say.  As mentioned above, the man is seventy-seven years old, and he's put on a little weight since leaving office.  I'm sure he has excellent personal physicians, but still - is the Judge's requirement of a man Donald's years sitting still like a dog healthy for a man his age/physical condition? Having been trapped in my own head for 45 years,  I know what it's like to feel like I'm in a cell in a room full of people ... so, I know what's going through  Mr. Trump's head right now, as he sits and growls.  I mention Batman because of how it's sets were slapped together - and the way the courtroom scenes' juries were filled with the series' recognizable villains.  Donald's current situation looks just as thrown together, with every set piece chosen for dinginess - the long 1970s tables in particular, coupled with burgundy office chairs, like the undestructable upholstery of a 77' LTD.  The movement of the court proceedings is as slow when OJ was on trial, and Judge Juan Merchan clearly has a vendetta for Donald, and is taking his revenge by putting restrictions on Trump.  Again, the entire justice system is being weaponized to destroy a single United States citizen, and it's frightening to observe how Americans just can't see that.  I'm obviously a Fox News viewer, but I have flipped the channels to experience Donald's prosecution from a Liberal point of view.  It's absolutely disgusting, the very definition of a "Kangaroo Court" and a coordinated television attack that the Liberal news doesn't even try and hide anymore.  It sickens me to see how most Democrats have no problem with this - and seem cognitively unable to comprehend how dangerous it is to use the United States Justice System to attack - and ruin - a single American citizen.  I mention this in almost every blog I write: "It's abhorrent to see that those Liberals who preach Tolerance are often the most intolerant people of all."  Sure, it feels good when YOUR guy's in power, but history has proven that the pendulum will swing back, and five, ten, fifteen years out - the tables will change and the Democrats will find themselves no only sitting in the catbird's seat, but tightly strapped to their chair like Donald is in his own.  But I have no doubt that Trump will prevail, and emerge from his courtroom drama like Martha Stewart - who is now all over television, claiming to be a "dirt nerd."  Chuckling.  I love Melania dearly, but deep down inside I've always wished that Trump would take up with Martha; she can bring him homemade cannabis brownies into the courthouse, like the kind Snoop Dogg used to bake for her, in between takes of their Potluck Party show. 
PictureYou can light a candle, a doobie, a bundle of fragrant incense - OR the Constitution!
WE HAVE ENTERED A TURNING POINT IN HUMAN HISTORY, and the 2024 election is at its epicenter.  Forty-plus years of Liberal Idiocy have left our nation in a peril, and if we don't fix it fast, we'll fall into the Mellow Apathy of Socialism.  Both of my blogs - Sir Dave's Blog & Dave's Blog Archives - are filled with observations from the past eleven years, especially stories of our nation's slow decline.  In particular, I discuss our potentials - both as human beings, and as American citizens.  I talk about faith, the importance of the family unit, and how crucial it is to have a strong Father Figure - i.e. a Strong Republican President in office.  Democrats have not only steered this country off the highway, we're driving down an inner-city road filled with potholes, protesters, and bridges so old they collapse with a shipping container's *bump*. Our country is literally falling apart around us, yet so long as the Amazon & GrubHub packages arrive on time, we barely set down our Playstation controller and look at what's happening outside. We've grown soft.  Unmotivated.  Easily-offended.  Thanks to Covid, we've gotten even lazier - and its seems that every grocer, retailer, drugstore and neighborhood restaurant now delivers goods to our front doors - right next to all the Amazon packages.  (We don't even need to unpack our orders quickly, as the ice cream was delivered in an insulated bag, so it will keep long enough for us to finish our current Assassin's Creed level.)  We are literally becoming the *guests* of Wall-E's "Buy N Large" starliner, so fat we can barely reach the recliner's handle to raise our feet. We're surrounded by devices - televisions, smartphones, computers, & iWatches - that "feed" us all the things we need to worry about within our sedentary lives.  It's never even dawned on us that our soft & comfy existence might be taken away if we don't get off our asses and TAKE CHARGE of our destinies - like the Republicans are pleading for us to do:

We have entered The Age of Aquarius, the dawn of Quantum Computing & Space Travel, but Americans are approaching this era as "consumers," not "explorers" - and that is a very dangerous place to be. 
PictureHow to WIPE YOUR ASS in zero gravity.
We can't "work from home" when it comes to the hands-on dirty-work that's needed to design better rockets, stronger space stations, and off-earth "habitats" that will allow exploration of the solar system.  And we need a strong LEADER to usher humanity into the harshness of space, as it's our species' *destiny* to explore the heavens for the next 1000 years.  Sure, I think we realize that in order for humanity to survive, we need to strive to leave the planet in mass, within the next thirty years. China's already ahead of us in this regard, and Russia will be ready soon - once Putin leaves office, and the country decides on conquering *space,* rather than retaking old Soviet Republics.  Space is a jungle. Only the strong survive, especially at first.  Sadly, because of Political Correctness, we have a "Star Trek" view of the universe, with big, clean spaceships, comfy staterooms, and Neelix cooking us fresh food in the canteen.  As I wrote in "The Grossness of Space" (The final piece in Dave's Blog Archive), space travel right now is disgusting, with a camping-like environment, cold sweat & spittle floating in the air, and prison-like arrangements for when it's time to take a shower.  As Mad Magazine used to say, "Yecccccch!"
PictureWell, looky here - Grub Hub has a BATMAN option! And it says we can request Stormy Daniels as our driver:)
I OFTEN WONDER how other species must see us, when they observe our behavior from the heavens.  To them, I'll bet we look like a Batman episode - with city-sized sets, over-the-top costumed villains, and a bunch of children running around the playground, shouting names at each other.  But the kids they see are getting too old for schoolyard bullies, and it's time for them to graduate from Middle to High School.  We must take the lessons that we've all learned from the past, and apply them to our futures as humanity finally looks UP towards the wonder of the stars.  Our next few generations will be challenging.  Our space technology is in its infancy, and many people will be lost as we learn to survive the Heavens.  This is the time when we take what we've learned about the Universe and look towards this knowledge through the wonder of Quantum Computing. Like a child who shed his training wheels to ride a bike, humanity is ready to trade in its bicycle for the upcoming generations of interdimensional vehicles - rockets, then starliners to open the galaxy's doors.  This is such an exciting time to be alive, yet so few seem to realize it.

Going back to Chess, our species needs to start thinking 30 moves ahead, to achieve our Manifest Destiny. When we finally leave the planet, it must be done as a "whole" species - not just Representatives of the powers that be. We can't depart the earth with a warring Middle East, with Superpowers fighting for dominance, or by just sweeping away the voices of "lesser" nations.  And I guess that's what this blog is really about: lesser leaders create lesser countries.  The United States is a beacon of strength, and if Trump isn't returned to office in November, we're screwed.  We have to start thinking hundreds of years into our future, when humanity is united - and free from political bickering.

And for that Donald Trump is a lot like Batman, only with a dark suit & red tie - answering the Bat Signal.

I for one cannot wait for this trial to be over, so Trump can finally speak without a gag-order, as we finally end this Dark & Stormy night...🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

- Sir Dave

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You've Got To Have Faith

4/4/2024

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Leather jacket w/gloves, guitar, Biden's aviators, AND Trump's 1987 hair? Man, I loved this album!
THE GOLDEN RAYS OF EIB LIGHT poured in into my bedroom windows briefly, breaking through the overcast sky on a cloudy Easter weekend.  I had just been thinking about Rush, actually. Specifically, I was thinking of a song parody that a listener had submitted in the early 1990s.  Ross Perot had just joined the campaign, and was unknowingly about to solidify the era of modern Liberalism by giving Clinton the election. The song was the first time I'd ever heard someone's voice "sampled" from a computer; a clever listener had gathered HOURS of Limbaugh's show, and had taken Rush's voice - and his dead-on impression of Ross - and cobbled together a brilliant little tune, that rivaled Limbaugh's early Paul Shanklin parodies: 🎶"...To various members of the press, I really do not know...🎶...But today, I can say, see I told you so...🎶...Shine the light of truth on America...🎶...Why don't you shine the light of truth, on this land of yours and mine..."🎶  The song was hysterical.  The listener had even arranged the pitch of Rush's words in a manner that created a "melody." I actually used the piece in When People Go Away, and as I couldn't find it on the Internet, I had to quote it from memory. I also remember Limbaugh's funny Perot commercial: "Ross Perogies! They don't taste like much, but isn't the packaging wonderful?"  The early-nineties was the *wild frontier* on Rush's show, and his listeners were often as creative as the host, himself. 

The reason I remembered Ross Perot was because of last week's news that Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has entered the Presidential campaign.  The first thing I thought: "IT'S A MIRACLE!  THE DEMOCRATS HAVE LEARNED NOTHING FROM 1992!"  Kennedy's candidacy all but guarantees Biden a defeat thank God, as Perot fractured both Democrat & Republican voters by giving them a different *option* - like Ranch or Thousand Island Dressing. But, the Liberals can't seem to recall "history," or the damage Ross did to both Clinton's & Bush's campaigns. (Remember when Perot briefly left the election trail because someone threatened his daughter's wedding?)  I imagine the White House is in a *panic* right now, as Trump has proven Biden's incompetence (See my last few posts), and Liberals now have TWO PEOPLE to destroy, to distract from our nation's flaming, corkscrew-nosedive under the current administration.  Chuckling.  The only way this could get any better is if The Second Coming appeared in a Leather Bar and formally endorsed The Donald. 
Picture"Isn't the packaging wonderful?"
GEORGE MICHAEL'S "FAITH" bounced cheerfully from WLS last week, when I turned down my Bose so I could better hear Fox News; The Five was playing clips of MSNBC's reaction, after Ronna McDaniel was hired - and quickly fired - by their network.  Their anger was predatorial.  The CNN hosts *seethed* with such venom, they almost SPAT at the cameras, and I was reminded, again, of Liberal's scorching intolerance towards Conservatives.  It was the same indignation I'd observed with Letitia James, Arthur Engoron, and Karine Jeane-Pierre's deceptively-evasive anger/snippiness when Mark Garrsion DARED ask her if the President had dementia before abruptly ending his phone call. After sighing in relief that the Baltimore bridge collapse didn't *appear* to be terrorism, I settled back with my chamomile tea, turned the up radio and watched Dane walk past the coffee table, carrying a basket of laundry. 🎶"...Well, I guess it would be nice...🎶...if I could touch your body...🎶...I know that everybody...🎶...Has got a body like you..."🎶.   With the election season just around the corner, I began to mentally prepare myself for what will undoubtedly be the *dirtiest* coordinated Democratic attack on Republicans I've seen in my lifetime.  And with the unpaid bills now visually unsettling the boy, I'm going balls-to-the-walls selling stuff on eBay/Facebook - and I'm signing up for a Temp Agency.  I have a twenty in my wallet, a half a tank of gas, two packs of cigarettes (thanks, Doreen!), the cupboard is dwindling, and Dane just used the last of his LINK card on essentials.  I check my email constantly for news on When People Go Away, but as agencies are afraid of anything new - and God forbid a book about Conservatism - my Hannity-like FAITH is the only thing that's keeping me going, as I try to convince someone that I really have written the First Book of the New Holy Bible - and debuted a NEW GENRE of Fiction.  I mean, if these people don't know what a "New Genre" is, they aren't qualified to read a coloring book.  

Speaking of unqualified, Biden was at least smart enough to stay away from NYPD's Johnathan Diller's funeral and attend a Manhattan fundraiser instead.  And whhhhhhy was that smart, you ask?  Can you *just imagine* what he'd have said to the widow?  "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Diller.  You're husband was a very brave soldier.  And I know just how you feel right now, because of my own loss of my son, Beau.  His death just ripped me to shreds I tell ya', ripped...me...to shreds.  I guess we've both lost loved ones, haven't we?  Why, I almost lost my entire family in a 2004 house fire - can you imagine?  Luckily, Hunter thought on his feet and ran out the door before any of us - and my wife & I were able to escape because he'd already warmed up the Corvette in the driveway.  LOL - he almost forgot to take us!  Anyway, you have my deepest condolences.  Semper Fi!"🫣  I'm excited by the election.  On one of the Fox shows last week, I saw a podcast clip where a recognizable African American woman flat-out told black people that the Democrats have failed them - and that it's time to vote Republican.  I'm starting to wonder if the the media's anger might actually be caused by Liberals realizing they're suddenly losing their base.  No wonder Jean-Pierre got exasperated on her phone call.  Between covering for Biden's mental decline, getting blindsided by R.F. Kennedy, bracing herself for Hunter's trial, playing "Baghdad Bob" on the Border Crisis, nearly shitting her pants by the terrorism/?-near-miss in Baltimore, and God knows what's happening in the world that we're not privy to - the pretty, young woman's just spinning too many plates. (She has beautiful eyes, btw.)  The entire administration just oozes s h i t s t o r m, and Trump is charging towards them like a Pamplona bull.  Chuckling.  If I could afford popcorn, I'd actually watch CNN for a night.  
Picture"Remember Charlie Sheen's I'M WINNING show?"
I WILL BE YOUR FATHER FIGURE rang from my Bose, as protesters descended upon Radio City Music Hall while the "Flood Manhattan for Gaza" protesters stormed President Biden's $25,000,000 fundraiser.  The event, of course, featured Clinton, Obama, & Biden: Our first black President, our black President who ran on "Hope," and our black-eyed President whose big, black limo chose a local podcast over the black suits of a fallen hero's funeral.  The protestors were the usual gang of idiots, the America-hating youth of today who've chosen Hamas over Netanyahu.  In my last post, I pointed out that people have forgotten the lessons of history - comparing the United States to the end of the Roman Empire.  Young Democratic voters haven't a clue how much Israel's fight to stay alive mirrors what's happening in our nation: Israel, the only democracy in the region, is being openly threatened by a terrorist organization in the same way the United States is being threatened by dangerous Liberal policies.  ​The Big-Picture is obvious.  Especially after the recent US-sponsored Hamas-condemnation was vetoed by the United Nations Security Council - led by China & Russia.  Think about that.  It ties in perfectly with my last few blogs, where I've described how Putin & Jinping are salivating with America's decline - and ready to overtake both Ukraine & Taiwan, respectfully.  While the United States *burns* under Democrat social policies, Israel is actually 🔥burning🔥with Hamas' rocket fire.  Liberals don't realize how important our relationship with Israel is, especially after Biden's sheepish withdrawal from Afghanistan - which has emboldened Militant Islam in the region (and left us with Israel as the main source of boots-on-the-ground intelligence in the Middle East).  The way Israel is literally fighting for its very survival mirrors the way Conservatives are doing the same in the USA - and without the support of the United States, the tiny democracy will cease to exist.  And if Republicans don't take back the White House, we'll be doing the same.
PictureThey may as well be chanting, "Death to America!"
Like the people of Seoul live within the threat of North Korea, Israelis are forced to go about their daily lives under the constant sound of Hamas gunfire - and rockets in the skies, overhead. Israel is the lone oasis of freedom in one of the most violent places on Earth, and they've been our ally for many, many years. Like an out-of-state sibling, we support them from afar - or, at least, we're supposed to. But we can barely defend ourselves at the moment, as 30 years of Liberalism has weakened the US both socially and militarily.  In a way, Israel's terrorist war is just as significant as the Conservative's war against Liberalism in the fact that losing either battle will result in the loss of a country.  Rather than tepid diplomacy, The United States should be sending Israel military reinforcements - or, at the very least, given them the military equipment that Biden left behind in Kabul.  But the Democrats seem to be siding with the militant Palestinians; the march on Biden's NY fundraiser was filled with young Americans who hadn't a clue what they were *really* supporting.  I watched in disgust as the event unfolded on television, not just with the protestors, but also with our Commander and Chief's personal behavior.  Not only did Biden "ghost" Johnathan Diller's funeral, he did the same to the Israelis themselves by not uttering a word of condemnation to the protestors - who obviously make up his voting base. Joe's lack of leadership contributed to Israel pulling its planned visit to the US - another arrow in the heart of our country's worsening relationship with one of our most important allies.  People don't realize how serious this is.  Our enemies are thinking: "If the The Great Satan won't support its fellow democracy, it's unlikely to stand with Taiwan & Ukraine if China & Russia launch a coordinated attack."  And if Israel falls, the United States won't be far behind - as our enemies march towards Washington with impunity.  Think about that.  I'm being alarmist on purpose.  Liberal policies are destroying our nation from within, and we're growing weaker by the day.  Israel needs our help NOW, but we're so caught up with destructive Political Correctness that we can barely help ourselves - as Democrats take our freedom away incrementally.  This is why Trump MUST win in November, and then hit the ground running with Executive Orders the moment he's sworn into office. Today's United States needs a President as strong as Netanyahu - a man who's not afraid to be blunt in front of cameras, and make the "draconian" decisions that will ultimately save us all.  Liberals have done so...much...damage, and I genuinely believe that Donald's been delivered by God to YANK the country back on track - with the strongest Tough Love possible.  Remember, "tough love" is *love* - like a family's Intervention to an addict's self-destruction.  And Tough Love is exactly what's needed now, as Israel's fate is hinged on the United States...and our fate is in the hands of the man in the Oval Office.  
PictureThe dawn of the Age of Aquarius.
CHRIST HAS RISEN is the message of Easter Sunday when Christians celebrate The Savior's return as we enter the 🌎Age of Aquarius🌎.  Humanity is on the cusp of space travel - and finally understanding our place in the Universe.  Our species is destined to achieve Time Travel in 1000 years, and to walk amongst the Gods in the stars - but we must address the state of the world before this can happen. This is such an exciting time to be alive, yet we're so preoccupied with fighting with each other, we've failed to notice that the heavens are filled with stars - and many worlds similar to our own.  Once we realize that our future lies in the Heavens, we'll realize just how *petty* we've been - and how closely we came to destroying this beautiful planet.  The universe is made up of too many different worlds to fathom, and though many are like our own, many others are not.  And we'll never have the chance to meet other species if we can't even find peace within our own.

The Universe is teeming with life, and most species are much older than humanity.  There are beings of light, vapor, rock, liquid ... beings of multi-dimension ... and beings who walk among us right now.  There are so...many...others who want to reveal themselves, and extend a mentor's hand of wisdom.  But the reason no one has "landed on the White House lawn" so to speak is because we've been acting childish - and we're perceived as a little dangerous. 

🎶 ...Shine the light of truth on America... 🎶

We *can't* expect a more-advanced alien species to be treated fairly when we don't respect each other.  What happens next is up to us, as God has given us Free Will - and the ability to make mistakes. Hopefully, humanity will make the *right* decision going forward.  If we don't we are literally missing the most important moment in history.  And that would be the biggest mistake of all ... ✨

🎶 "I will be your Father Figure, put your tiny hand in mine...🎶...I will be your Preacher Teacher, anything you have in mine...🎶...I have had enough of crime, I will be the one who loves you" 🎶 -

🎶 "Til' the end of TIME..." 🎶

We've got to have Faith. 💫

- Sir Dave
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Rock Me, Rock Me, Rock Me Sexy Jesus

3/27/2024

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Picture
Not as funny as "Hasa Diga Eebowai," but still delightfully offensive in it's own way.
HAMLET 2 IS A SATIRICAL MASTERPIECE, a "Dementedly Hilarious" 2008 hidden gem on the scale of Tropic Thunder, Kingpin, and Christopher Guest mocumentaries.  On the surface, the movie mocks Christianity; its "Sexy Jesus" number is as intentionally offensive as The Producer's "Springtime for Hitler."  But, that's just at a first-glimpse of the film.  Like When People Go Away, the movie's true intent doesn't hit you until a second viewing - after the initial LOL'ing of Steve Koogan's portrayal of a down-and-out, alcoholic, High School drama teacher who moves Heaven & Earth to bring the world his *unconventional* masterpiece.  The film's real message is how a nearly-broken GenX man successfully finds a way to work with the youth of today, and bridge the gap between two generational belief systems by creating a piece of art.  
PictureRock me, Sexy Jesus!
It's funny to learn that Hamlet 2 came from the South Park people, the guys who gave us the equally-hysterical Book of Mormon Broadway show.  I used to love South Park.  In its heyday, it was deliciously-raunchy cutting-edge humor - at least until the 2016 Election, when the show made a sharp left turn into politics.  Like Family Guy's brazen anti-Conservative message (which has totally ruined one of my favorite shows, btw), South Park charged forward with the assumption that Hillary would win, and turned Mr. Garrison into a Donald Trump caricature who literally shit in the woods, like a bear.  The Liberal message wasn't a shock of course, though I was a little surprised that the show went balls-to-the-wall in attacking Caitlin Jenner - mocking the loss of life in her car accident.  (It was obviously done because Jenner is a Republican, further proving the Democrat's double-standard by making fun of a special interest group.)  What offended me most was that the show just got bad for two seasons, as Donald's election ruined their pre-planned story-arc.  Like the appeals court's reversal of Letita James' unnecessarily-hefty fine, South Park found itself backed into a corner - and had to scramble to wrap-up the politics FAST, quickly moving the series to - appropriately - a 🪴*weed farm*🪴.  The whole anti-Conservative storyline damaged South Park's relevancy, and the show really hasn't been the same since. 

​Pity.  I really liked Mr. Slave ...
PictureRush saved my life; I haven't been the same since he died.
IT'S FUNNY HOW PROGRAMS like South Park always seem to forget that Conservatives might actually watch their shows, too.  In the world of television, *viewers* are really a program's "customers," and like any business, the last thing you want to do is to piss off the people who you hope will buy your product. This phenomena is everywhere on Liberal television, from South Park & Family Guy to scripted dramas like Law & Order SVU.  I used to watch the Law & Order's every week, but their in-your-face left-wing agenda has made me delete the franchise from my DVR: I don't need Olivia Benson scolding me for being a Republican, when her unit battles with the violence, murder, and sexual assault within a poorly-run Democratic city.  I first noticed this trend twenty years ago, while watching Six Feet Under - one of my all-time favorite dramas.  I was a bookstore manager at the time, and I was familiar with the political titles of the day.  In one SFU episode, the program opens with a close-up of George Sibley reading an Bush-bashing current affairs title; I was so disgusted, I boycotted the final season for years.  Family Guy takes the concept to a whole new level, with brazen, anti-MAGA messages - splayed across the bottom of the screen in many episodes.  They're not even subtle about it.  The program blatantly insults viewers like myself, then expects us to return the following week - and buy their advertiser's stuff.  (Chuckling.)  In addition to its condescending Liberal message, I've also noticed Family Guy's MANY BDSM REFERENCES over the years.  I think it's fairly obvious that Seth Macfarlane has a dungeon in his basement - and, speaking of "Mr. Slave," it's pretty clear he's not a top.  

It's a shame that Hollywood has lost its grandeur, in favor of Political Correctness.  With the exception of Last Night in Soho, I can't remember the last really good film that I've seen in a theater.  Most of the decent programming I've watched lately has come from Netflix (like Velvet Buzzsaw), Fargo w/Jon Hamm, and Capote vs. The Swans on specialty cable.  Hollywood has gotten so damn...childish.  The awards shows have such Liberal venom, they've become unwatchable.  I YouTube'd the 2024 Oscars opening, and Jimmy Kimmel barely made it 4 minutes into his monologue before taking a snipe at the GOP's State of the Union rebuttal.  I have a dear gay friend in the BDSM Community who works in Las Angeles; he works in lighting.  He's talented at what he does, he's lived in LA for 30 years, and he's contributed to many popular sitcoms.  But even as a fellow Leatherman, he can't tell a soul he votes Republican, because, like Communists in the 50s, he'll be blacklisted by the entertainment industry.  It's heartbreaking to hear his stories, the shameless intolerance that exists in Hollywood Liberalism, when it comes to Conservative Voters/Viewers.  Again, I go back to a recurring theme of this blog: It's disgusting at how those who preach tolerance are often the most intolerant of all.  And in the case of this fellow Sir, the world of television has missed many golden opportunities, as my buddy has walked me through the numerous projects he's envisioned that can never see the light of day, because their characters are Conservative.  I mean, from a strictly business point-of-view, conservative ideas are a *goldmine*, because there are so few of them on TV.  Yet, rather than seizing a chance to breathe new life into a wheezing industry (and to make millions in the process), the Las Angeles Elite refuses to even acknowledge their "customer base," opting instead to stick to Democratic talking points...and to suppress people like me, a Proud Gay Republican who happens to disagree with them. 🤬
Picture"Look, Dude, I'm just a friggin' CASTAWAY!"
THE FOX NEWS BREAKING STORY alert splashed across my screen yesterday morning, when I awoke to learn that the Francis Scott Key Bridge had collapsed after a collision with a cargo ship. Like everyone, my first thought was terrorism - and I'm pleased that as of today, it doesn't seem to be the case.  As the story continued to dominate the news cycle, I began to consider the gravity of losing the Baltimore port - and how that loss would affect US commerce in the weeks & months to come. I began to think about what "goods" were moved through the facility: Food? Electronics? Automobiles? Packages for the nearby Amazon facility?  At least it isn't oil, I thought, Otherwise, we'd not only have higher gas prices, but a potential environmental spill as well.  I started to ponder how *precarious* our economy actually is - and how an accident at a port on the upper East Coast will have repercussions that ripple throughout the country.  That thought segued into the topic of open southern border in my previous blog, and I felt a genuine shudder when this hit me: Imagine the damage that could be done with an *intentional* attack on a major US Port, if initiated by an enemy who entered the country illegally - and had the time to plan such a disaster, like the 9/11 terrorists?  That thought was coupled with a SECOND realization: The world is now aware of our crumbling infrastructure, and we're spending so much money/time on Liberal social programs that we're not paying attention to potential National Security issues - like the obvious need to replace an outdated bridge within a major port of commerce.  People just don't realize how vulnerable our nation has grown under weak Democratic leadership.  So long as the cable works, the Amazon packages arrive, and the GrubHub drivers leave the pizza by the door, the symptom of a disturbing trend stands true: Americans have gotten lazy, and if we don't get off our asses, our sedimentary lifestyle will soon be taken away.  The sound of the cargo ship ramming the bridge's pylon was a literal *SLAP* in our faces, and unless we wake up to it's danger - and vote for Trump in the upcoming election - we'll have no couches left to sit on, while watching Jimmy Kimmel mock our values on TV.  Chuckling.  Speaking of "waking up," someone might want to give Mr. Biden a *nudge* on this one ...

Going back to Hamlet 2, one thing I love about the film is that every time I watch the movie, I catch some little detail I'd missed.  The scene where Steve Coogan waking up on the couch in the field with his pants around his ankles comes to mind; the film never explains how he got there, though it's clearly implied that he was assaulted after a drunken blackout.  It's hard not to make the same comparison to the day in the near-future when Liberals do the same, when the overseas threats that Conservatives have been shouting about finally happens in the biggest possible way.  We'll find ourselves on our own sofas-in-the-fields, jarred awake by our device's EBS - as multiple EMP's disrupt our goods, services, and communications - while Chinese warplanes fly over the West Coast, as Russia's attack from the East.  Yes, that's an *intentionally* alarmist scenario, but that's the point. Modern Liberalism has created a dangerous apathy within our population, and when we finally move to defend ourselves, we won't have any guns - or Generals trained in combat, rather than special interest studies.  I mentioned in my previous post that China has a missile that can destroy our carriers - the primary way the USA wields military might - with the push of a button.  Our world has become a cauldron of instability, and without American leadership, the lives that we currently enjoy will Go Away.  Do schools even teach basic history anymore?  Does anyone remember what happened to the Romans?  The Roman Empire lasted 1000 years before it got complacent, and was overtaken by stronger peoples.  We all seem to think that the United States has *always* been here, but in reality we're barely 250 years old.  We rose to our prominence through hard work & American Exceptionalism, but the Liberal trend of apologizing for excellence will destroy our nation even faster than we created it.  

Think about that -
PLEASE ... put down the game controller and think about that !  
Picture"Oh, say can you SEE?"
I COULD ACTUALLY HEAR TRUMP YELL "YOU'RE FIRED!" last night, on learning the news that Ronna McDaniel had been canned from NBC.  Hannity's montage of the NBC hosts' reaction to the firing was disheartening; "Look at how *deep* they're hypocrisy runs!" - and Rachel Maddow's arrogant response was particularly "inexplicable." Their complaining made me realize how exasperated I am with why people just can't SEE what's right in front of their faces.  They were *literally* saying "GO AWAY! WE DON'T LIKE YOU!", like playground bullies & high school cliques - all while keeping a straight face.  Again: Those who preach tolerance are often the most intolerant of all!  It's horrifying that viewers can't see through this staggering bias, but again, "It's hard to view The View" through a cloud of marijuana smoke.  Their hypocrisy is on the scale of Chernobyl.  I'm at the point where I want to storm up to Liberal friends, grab them by the lapels and scream: "HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THIS?  CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT EVERY MEDIA OUTLET IN THE COUNTRY IS UNITED IN A COORDINATED ATTACK TO DESTROY A SINGLE MAN?  THEY'RE NOT EVEN PRETENDING TO HIDE IT ANYMORE!"  Pardon me for typing like Donald on Truth Social, but if it weren't for people like Hannity, Watters, and the Fox & Friends ensemble, I think I'd totally give up on humanity.✨

FULL DISCLOSURE: I am a cannabis smoker, but only *after* the queries are sent, the house is clean, the boy is ironing tomorrow's clothes, the bills that I *can* pay are paid, and the blog has been written.  (Chuckling - it's fun to edit these things with a buzz!😆)  But, as a responsible pot smoker, I *do* observe the Democrat's message at work at my local Dispensary.  I roll my eyes as I stand in line with the Leaders of Tomorrow, when their shirts have anarchist D-cals, when they clearly haven't worked a day in their lives, or when I hear them bash Trump within their personal conversations.  I'm reminded of the musical EVITA, when Che sings: 🎶"Get them while they're young, Evita, get them while they're young..." 🎶  I'm sometimes tempted to start a conversation with one of them, but, well, you know ...
Picture"The Doocy's cookbook was sold out, so I got you this!"
IT IS OFTEN SAID that "we are only three meals away from anarchy," but with the current direction of Liberalism, I think we're much closer than that.  We can barely take the time to give the DoorDash guy a one-star review, let alone to consider the reason he delivered our food in the first place is because he can't make ends meet - and has taken a night job to pay the bills. Democrats have forgotten just how easy it is for our current lifestyle to end, and I wonder how they'll react when late-night talk shows have their content censored by a new President that was put into power by a much-stronger leader from overseas?  And I *don't* mean that Biden will be wearing a Mao-suit of course; what's to come will be far more insidious than that.  The changes that are happening are as slow as a frog gradually boiling in water - an open border here, a collapsed bridge there, a dangerous trend of Democratic policies everywhere, and an unqualified President right in front of our ​faces ...

As a Proud Gay Republican within the Leather Community, the LAST thing we want is "Mr. Slave" in the Oval Office.  Forgive my crassness, but if we don't get our heads out of our asses now, we're going to be reduced into a Socialist welfare state - a slave to a New World Order that doesn't give a damn about Political Correctness. We'll lose the *drive* that made our nation great, and slowly - painfully slowly - we'll find ourselves in the bondage of another Master - and a society with a President who has no real power.  And WHEN we get to that point, we'll finally come to realize that without a strong Conservative government providing an umbrella of protection, we've lost the ability to speak a word of protest.

Word.

Freedom is something Americans have to fight for, as gays fought for the right to live the lives we want.  I think about this often when I don my leather for Touche on the weekends, and stare at myself in the mirror, pulling down my Muir as I listen to yet another viewing of Hamlet 2 on the television. ✨

​Sing along with me now:

🎶 Rock me, rock me, rock me Sexy Jesus! 🎶

- Sir Dave
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Paradise by the Dashboard Border Lights

3/22/2024

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"From the day he was born, he was trouble ... He was a thorn in his Mother's side ..."
HOT PINK FUZZIES AND SHORTS THAT LOOKED LIKE VINYL can be seen on YouTube, during a live performance of Meatloaf's Paradise By the Dashboard Light.  I don't know who the female singer was, but in the video she's "deliciously-1970s" with Ed Wood's sweater, Spanx as tight as rubber diapers, Rocky Horror panty hose, and frizzy hair that flutters like brown dandelion seed.  I remember dancing to the song in gay bars: 🎶"...Well, I remember every little thing, as if it happened only yesterday...🎶...Parking by the lake, and there was not another car in sight..."🎶 Everybody knew the words by heart of course, and the theater-people always brought the number home in the most over-the-top way possible.  It was especially fun to dance to the song in straight clubs, as the heterosexual men nearly spat out their Budweiser when us gay dudes would yank their girlfriends from their arms, and pantomime the song in the most sexual way possible.  It saddens me that Generation Z's/Alpha's have never known the joy of getting drunk off their asses and singing to Meatloaf around the juke box of a local bar.  Chuckling.  Of course, considering the topic of Jessie Watters' hysterical new book, Get it Together, at least the youth of today still knows how to drink.
PictureA Must-Read to all the musty-smelling Liberals.
I'd been watching Watters promote the hell out of his book last week, with the subtly of Letitia James gleefully seizing Trump's assets.  I'm a Hannity fan of course - and I think that Greg Gutfeld is sapiosexual-masturbation material - but Watters is kinda' the guy in the middle, with intelligent wit, a sharp suit & tie, and just the right smidge of Rush Limbaugh's absurdity.  In Get It Together, Watters takes the reader through the ultimate "man on the street" journey, successfully keeping the straightest face possible while interviewing Liberals who smoke toad, cuddle professionally, and somehow maintain their Transgender identity while channeling a - ahem - "wolf."  (Question: as trans dogs lift their legs to pee, would they use a Men's or Woman's bathroom?  ALSO, if they have to take a leak outside, how do they justify pissing on *trees* without hurting the plant's feelings?) It's no secret that I've watched Fox News for decades, and I'm surprised it's taken me this long to take notice of Mr. Watters.  Over the past few weeks, I've been following Jesse's show more closely, especially with his recent stories about our open borders.  I actually lived in Arizona from 1999-2006, and I have first-hand knowledge of how porous our southern border really is.  GW Bush was still our President then, and in the days following 9/11, border security was a serious issue in Phoenix.  I remember local news stories that never made the national cycle for some reason; in these reports (around early 2002), USBP Agents had apprehended Radical Muslims who had tried to cross the border dressed as Mexican immigrants, going so far as to wear "I ❤️ NY" T-shirts & caps w/American flags.  I was reminded of the issue more recently, when attending a local talk by Project Veritas' James O'Keefe (there's a photo on my 4/19/2018 X post), when O'Keefe showed a video of someone dressed as Osama bin Laden wading through the border water - like a South Park character. Even under an Republican administration, the ease of our enemies entering the United States at the time was unsettling.  Another moment of in-your-face clarity happened one night in 2003, when I awoke in the wee hours - as a flashlight beam skittered across my carpet, walls, and bed from my open window.  (I liked to sleep with the sound/smell of the desert breeze.)  When I got up to investigate, I found a police officer walking with a Maglite in hand, balanced on my backyard's wall like a tightrope.  A dangerous illegal had just escaped from authorities I learned, and was hiding in the yards of my subdivision's neighbors; I could hear the cops on their walkie-talkies, as they searched for him.  Sadly, people just don't realize how long our border has been an issue.  And if the border was that dangerous under GWB in 2003, you only need to watch the news to know what it's like under Biden today.
PictureTo quote Homer Simpson: "D'oh!"
By the waaaaaay, ​on the Jesse Watters subject of political correctness, does anyone remember the shitstorm that happened when Taco Bell debuted its "Border Lights" advertising campaign in 1995?  In my endless battle with weight gain/loss, I recall this flavorless, Fat Free menu vividly; the fast food chain had proudly reinvented sour cream, and marketed it with nationwide commercials that showed their chalky low-cal menu paired with illegals, running through border fences while USBP helicopters followed them with spotlights. Oops.  The Liberals attacked the commercials with the ferocity of a Radical Feminist Sex Woker.  Err, I mean Worker...
Picture
I believe I found this AP photo on POLITICO. It's both a sad and beautiful image.
What's happening on our southern border is horrifying.  Liberals don't realize that a porous border is clearly the sign of a larger issue: China, Russia, Radical Islamics and others are united together in a coordinated effort to destroy The United States from within - and the border is the perfect starting point.  It's like a Chess game where a bad player (who barely understands basic strategy) is pitted against a *gifted* player (who thinks 30 moves ahead) - with the future of the world being determined by the winner.  Here are a few fun facts to consider, in no particular order:
  • Russia, China, & North Korea are far bigger countries than us, when combined.
  • Russia, ruled by an ex-KGB madman, still feels humiliated by Reagan's defeat - and its aftermath.
  • China has a missile that can take out our carriers; the USA projects its power with the Navy.
  • The United States is supposed to be able to fight two wars at once; one on each coast. (Right now, we can't even fight one.) 
  • Russia, China, & North Korea, are NOT Politically Correct; their code: Only the strongest survive.
  • Have you seen China's AI/Robot technology?  Even the Black Mirror robo-kill-dog would shit itself.
  • Now, take all of the above and throw in Israel and the Middle East situation.
  • Meanwhile, on our southern border ...
  • Considering the present state of the world, without the United States leading by example, humanity is on the cusp of exploring space - and finally understanding ✨our place within the Universe✨
​And with all THAT going on, what are the Lib's doing in the US?  They're bickering with Conservatives, fighting about Political Correctness, pouring money we don't have into government entitlements, whining about a potential TikTok ban, and ignoring the fact our adversaries have almost overtaken us.  Do you honestly think that China, Russia, & Militant Islamists haven't noticed the fact that we've lowered physical standards to join the military?  🔥That our military, rather than learning how to "kill people & break things" (as Rush used to say), now has to sit through hours of transgender-understanding lectures - instead of combat training?  🔥That American Political Correctness creates a far weaker society than China's/Russia's traditional family units/values? 🔥That our liberal media is united in a coordinated attack against Conservatives?  🔥That Democrats have weaponized the court system against Republicans?  🔥That our stores are being driven out of business because of ludicrous shoplifting prosecution laws? 🔥That our Limousine Liberals, when zipping past our cities' homeless encampments, don't even pass the needy a fiver?  🔥That our last two generations of youth are too lazy to get off the couch?  🔥 That many of our best & brightest African Americans are trapped within the Democratic welfare system? 🔥 That our open border is allowing both new Democratic voters - AND malicious terrorists into the nation?  🔥 That our President - the Leader of the Free World - can barely walk up Air Force One's rear steps without falling down, while wearing orthopedic shoes?  The state of our country is as frightening as Afghanistan after Biden's withdrawal (which our enemies watched), and, like Islamic women, it's the Liberals who are forcing Conservatives to hide at home in burkas.  Ronald Reagan famously said, "Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction," and between the Gen Z's/Alphas, we're already two generations into a dangerous apathy - and if the Democrats don't pry their lips from their bongs, we're all going to find ourselves in a Third World War that we are currently unable to win.  
PictureNext to the photo of Donald with Melania splayed across the piano like a Bond girl, this is my favorite picture of Trump.
🎶​​​​​Well, I re-mem-ber ev-ery lit-tle thing as if it hap-pened on-ly yes-ter-day🎶 when I watch Fox News, and I'm often reminded of my 2016 blogs - written during Trump's first campaign.  In particular, I think about the danger of Liberals unabashedly repressing an entire segment of our nation's population.  The most obvious recent example is Letitia James' shameful attempt to seize Donald Trump's real estate holdings, while smugly grinning at everyone with a camera.  The story is all over the news.  Every CNN, MSNBC, "Big Three" newscast, daytime talk show, & Liberal late-night host is *seething* with hypocrisy as Donald scrambles to secure funds to cover his "cruel and unusual" $464,000,000 bond.  As I wrote in my 6/26/2016 post, Democrats are intentionally suppressing Republicans, in the same way the Taliban represses women - or Putin suppresses/imprisons gays. This...is...blatant...intolerance.  And it comes from the party that claims to represent *everybody* - but is, itself, the most intolerant party of all.  I just don't understand how people can't see this, even with all the marijuana smoke obscuring the view of The View on TV.  I just saw video of Jimmy Kimmel reveling in the idea of Trump's beautiful 757 being seized by the US government; I literally wanted to reach into the television and SMACK him - but then, of course, I'd be no better than him.  (And I'd also have to Windex all the hairspray off the screen.)  Another clip I saw on Fox was CNN panelist Frank Luntz pointing directly into the camera (to the viewers), and warning James that by seizing Donald's assets, she'll guarantee his victory in November - as he would be a victim. Chuckling. Now, even "Liberals" are calling themselves *hypocrites*, yet that fact just seems to bounce off Democrats' heads like coconuts on Gilligan's Island - BOINK!  To me, this is a disturbing sign of a much deeper issue: the Liberals' hypersensitivity has desensitized Americans to the point where we can't even recognize the danger that's right in front of our faces.  I mean, the loaded gun of Liberalism is *literally* cocked between our eyes, and Biden is ready to pull the trigger with his trembling, arthritic fingers - and a little help from the staff.  It's no wonder why Democrats want to take away everybody's guns.
PictureWhoops! Guess we forgot to add a line of Hunter's coke to Joe's morning Ensure!
Then again, maybe I'm looking at things the wrong way.  Perhaps we *should* just accept Democratic mediocrity - and that the USA's best days are behind us.  I mean, WHY NOT settle for a government rent-check, and the joy of shopping at ALDI with a LINK card?  Why not trust a man in the White House who can't even "Keep Our Own Kids Safe" (for you Rush fans) by doing something as simple as closing the southern border? Why don't, instead of striving to reach our personal potentials, we just stay at home watching WALL-E on Netflix - as the starliner's captains grow fatter & fatter with each passing generation?  And, most importantly, *why not* begin the exploration of space by suddenly stopping our first Mars mission launch because in the heat of the moment, some NASA engineer inadvertently *slipped* and called a transgender astronaut the wrong pronoun - and now the mission is scrubbed because she's offended?  If you've read my earlier blogs, you know I'm not kidding when I say: I'd rather kill myself.  And *killing ourselves* is exactly what we're doing as a nation, if we don't take back the White House in November.
PictureThe great Communicator.
It's a shame we didn't have smartphones on 9/21/1987, when Ronald Reagan addressed the United Nations. During his speech, he referenced our growing conquest of space - and the potential of a threat from outside the Earth: "I occasionally think how quickly worldwide our differences would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world.  Yet, I ask you: Is not an alien force already among us?  What could be more alien than the universal aspirations of our peoples than war - and the threat of war?"  In other words, Reagan was saying: "Space is a dangerous place, and we'll never survive exploring the Heavens if we can't reconcile our differences here on Earth."  Ronald Reagan was a firm believer in American Exceptionalism, and he led our country with Trump-like confidence - and equally-Teflon hair.  Our 40th President saw the danger of Communism, not only in its military threat, but in its ideological repression of its people's individual potential - its Iron Curtain grip on HOPE.  For those who don't remember, life in the USSR was as bleak as present-day North Korea; citizens weren't allowed to choose their own destinies ... rather, the State chose people's fates for them.  That's exactly what's happening in America right now.  Modern Liberalism is choosing the future of Americans, and if we don't wake up to its danger, we're going to allow a much stronger - and inhumane - nation to tell us where to work, where to live, what to eat. Worst of all, we're already being told what to *think*, in the sense that Democrats have encouraged us not to think at all.  It's happening right in front of our eyes, as the lines at the Cannabis Dispensary & Game Stop stores rival Soviets waiting for toilet paper in the 1980s ... while the coordinated Liberal media assault is hammering Trump into the Leningrad/Washington pavement - as our enemies salivate.

The upcoming election is a crucial moment in history, not for just for our country, but for the world, itself.  If we don't do a fast U-turn on our present course, our nation will be overtaken by those who don't appreciate basic human rights - and we'll never reach our species' *potential*, in the thousand years to come.  The Universe is a jungle, frankly - and only the strongest survive.  If we fail to "toughen up" and live Conservative values, humanity will simply fade into oblivion, an asterisk in Galactic History.

The United States of America was put on this Earth as "One Nation, Under God."  We are the rocket that takes our species into the Cosmos, and we do so with the LOVE of our Creator ... & the HOPE that he inspires.

When the day finally comes when we travel the Universe, the people of the Earth will watch the Heavens above - with Meatloaf on the vintage jukebox radio ... 🎶 "Well, it's cold and lonely in the deep, dark night..." 🎶

And that will be the moment when we'll truly be able to see - - - 

✨ Paradise by the Dashboard Lights ✨

- Sir Dave
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Let Knot Your Heart be Troubled

3/18/2024

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Picture
Any given night in Aurora, Il - "The City of Lights."
RED WHITE AND BLUE POLICE LIGHTS FLASHED a few months back, like an episode of COPS.  A fine, young gentleman with a marijuana hoodie & pants below his ass had gotten into a fight at our local liquor store, over the price of a vape.  I chuckled as I watched this.  I had actually seen the dude before, a white kid who was pretending to be a gangsta', and he looked absolutely ridiculous.  I smiled as he was cuffed (ahem) and stuffed into the squad car, while the officers tried to keep a straight face.  Things like this are common in Northgate Plaza, an aging 1950s-era shopping center near my house, a deteriorating strip mall with a liquor store, pawn shop, several greasy take-out places, a big thrift store - and a long-defunct Carson Pirie Scott that's being converted into self-storage.  The center is kind of a dump actually, and I'm surprised that it hasn't been torn down yet.  I heard rumors that WalMart wanted to buy/raze the property, but our local politicians didn't want a discount Supercenter because it would bring the "wrong kind of people in the neighborhood." (Again, ahem.)  How could a 24-hour superstore be any worse than this?  

The scene unfolded through the Family Dollar window as I stood at the cashier, paying for my purchase.  The store is near my house, and I often stop there for cheap razors and emergency cat food.  The cashier was a nice black lady, who joined me in grinning as the punk was arrested.  We watched him amusedly when the police car pulled away, then I paid for my litter and left.  I thought about the experience on my way home, and I was saddened by the fact that *this* is the state of many youth today.  I kept thinking about his sweatpants, and how much I hate how people purposely pull their pants down, so you can see their underwear.  (I mean, it doesn't make sense to me; if you're wearing jeans around your knees, wouldn't that restrict the movements of your legs when you're running from police?)  I couldn't help but remember Steve Martin in The Jerk, waddling around towards the end of the movie, holding a chair in his bathrobe.  In the 17 years I worked for Barnes & Noble, I'd often get angry when applicants arrived to the interview wearing concert T-shirts & wrinkled jeans as their *first impression*.  My parents taught me to wear a shirt & tie when applying for a job, and to present myself as professionally as possible.  I was the hiring manager at my last B&N, and I sometimes sent applicants home when they showed up wearing flip-flops:

"Thank you for being on time, but the way that your dressed is inappropriate for an interview.  I'll happily reschedule of course, but if I do, I expect you to dress like you want to work here."   

​It was funny to watch their expressions sink.  Clearly, I had been the first adult to ever tell them such a thing. When I was a teenager in the 1980s, Father taught me to always dress for the job I wanted, even when asking for a fast food application.  Over the past two decades, I've watched everyone's grooming standards slip; at my last B&N (which was located in upscale Naperville), one of our store's managers routinely came to work wearing untucked flannel shirts, wrinkled khakis, and the dirtiest pair of New Balance sneakers I'd ever seen.  I often got into altercations with this person.  He was so unprofessional, he actually told hourly booksellers that he'd been given a Not-At-Standards review, while getting drunk with them at a bar after his shift.  Hearing that made me realize just how LOW our standards have slipped, as our company's managers - like the modern Democratic party - have settled for mediocrity, at best.  In addition, I've learned that the store's entire management staff has been openly talking about my alcoholism - a gross violation of HIPPA rules - after I had  chance encounter with our store's janitor, at Home Depot.  If standards like this are accepted by a large corporate retailer, what must they be like within the country's present administration?  Judging from our current President, I'm afraid they aren't very high. 

​Well, unless you count Hunter ​...
Picture"With talent on loan from God" my ass; Rush didn't have *talent* - he had a GIFT.
RED WHITE AND BLUE STRIPES were waving over Rush's shoulders, in the Drudge Report headline photo on the day of his death.  I loved Rush Limbaugh, and I haven't been the same since he died.  I believe I started listening to him in 1992, back when I worked for Handy Andy Home Improvement Centers in Joliet, Il.  I had been working an overnight shift, a massive reset to introduce Dutch Boy's "Renaissance" line of paint - a new product that introduced Ultra Whites, hues that rivaled the color of the sun, itself.  For whatever reason, I was searching my boom box's AM radio band, and I stopped when I heard Paul Shanklin's song parody: "The Leader of Iraq": "I met him in the baklava store ... he had that big, fuzzy mustache - you get the picture ... That's ven' I fell for da Leader of IRAQ ... VROOM! VROOM!"  The song blurred into "A BOMB, BOMB, BOMB ... BOMB, BOMB IRAQ!" and I was hooked.  I learned the station rebroadcast Rush's shows to fill their overnights, so I started listening to Limbaugh in the days that followed - and continued for the next twenty-seven years.  Rush was hysterical.  Not only did he share my political views, he had a *very* dark sense of humor that you had to listen closely to hear (unless you count the Caller Abortions - KER-FLUSH!).  His wit was razor-sharp, he was a genuinely kind man, he was a staunch believer in both God & conservatism, and he was such a gifted broadcaster, he could hold an audience's attention for three hours - without a single guest. Liberals hated him of course, but few actually took the time to hear his point of view. Rush made so...much...sense.  And he did it in a way that was both intelligent and fun to listen to.  It got to the point where I planned my weekdays around his show, I read both of his books of course, and I even subscribed to The Limbaugh Letter.  I also remember Rush's brief television program, back when he got in trouble for calling Chelsea Clinton "the White House Dog."  Considering that happened around the time Bill Clinton bombed the baby aspirin factory (on the day Linda Trip's story/tapes went public), it's no wonder that "Wag the Dog" was probably on his mind. 
PictureThe 2nd time I drew Rush, in 1996.
Chuckling.  When I got my first iMac in 1999, the very 1st email I sent was to Rush's old Compuserve address.  It was a parody of a Denny's commercial, told with the same un-PC whimsy that Shanklin used in his song parodies.  I loved Rush's humor.  It was subtle, intelligent, and deliciously-absurd.  (Remember "KOOKS" - Keep Our Own Kids Safe? - and how many liberal callers fell for it?) I can still hear his vocal teletype - Da-da-da-dut!  Da-da-da-dut! - as well as his catch-phrases: "With talent on loan from God! - With half my brain tied behind my back, just to. make it fair!"  No matter what was happening in the country/world, Rush always found a way to deliver his Conservative message with relentless optimism.  But even more importantly, Rush genuinely believed in American excellence, and that God chose the United States to set a world standard.  He preached the *need* to strive for our own personal potentials, no matter what the obstacles, no matter what the odds.  Rush told his listeners that if we pursued what we LOVED with our lives, we'd always be happy.   I could still hear his voice when I wrote When People Go Away, and I know that he's proud of me - as my own standards are as high as his.  My heart's been in knots since Rush's death. 
PictureCarrying the torch of EIB light.
RED WHITE AND BLUE STRIPES splashed across Sean Hannity's latest book - Live Free or Die - as I placed it on the New Release table, at my last Barnes & Noble.  I've followed Hannity since the early nineties, back when he used to sub for Rush's vacations - in the same way that Johnny Carson always used Joan Rivers.  The first time I heard Hannity, I was actually a little surprised; he was a *diamond in the rough* so to speak, and his delivery wasn't as polished as it is today. That's actually why I turned the radio UP when he subbed: "If Rush has the confidence to give Sean free reign of his show, he must really trust his message."  Hannity was young, talented, and full of Conservative passion - and it saddened me when he joined Fox News because my cable at the time didn't yet carry the channel.  But I did get to listen to him for a couple of years, and I heard him grow into a skilled communicator, which was exactly what Fox needed in it's infancy - back when Steve Doocy read the weather.  When I finally got The Fox News Channel in the 2000s, Hannity was already a solid fixture on the network.  I waited tables at the time, so I taped Hannity & Colmes to watch when I got home.  I was pleased to see that Sean was as gifted on television, as he was on the radio.

In Live Free or Die: America on the Brink, Hannity explores the issue discussed in my last blog post, and how modern Liberalism is destroying our country from within.  Reagan used to say, "Freedom is but one generation away from extinction," an issue Limbaugh trumpeted daily on his show.  I rarely read political books as they tend to cover topics of which I'm already familiar, but I made an exception for Hannity's work - as its content hit so close to home.  (As a fellow author, I also wanted to give him the sales.)  Sean's book was chilling.  I'll spare you the Amazon synopsis, but what I liked about the work was how it covered our country's slow decline (and eventual demise) from radical Democratic policies that are weakening this nation in front of our eyes.  The book's tough-love message is delivered with GET OFF YOUR ASS urgency, like a family's intervention for an alcoholic who's liver is starting to fail.  But all interventions come from a place of love, and Sean clearly has his mentor's deep love of country.  I watch Hannity's show on Fox, and I can see his desperation as he PLEADS for Liberals to listen to him.  It infuriates me when I discuss political correctness with Democratic friends, as Liberals can't seem to grasp that the *reason* we have the luxury of such ideological disagreements is because past GOP administrations have given us an umbrella of protection (by securing the borders and strengthening the military), which allows everyone the freedom to have such arguments to begin with!  What I really liked about Sean's book was that it brimmed with faith - Let not your heart be troubled.  Hannity has followed Limbaugh's footsteps, a master trained by The Master, a man who - as far as I'm concerned - now carries the torch of golden EIB light.
PictureTrump, waving "hi" to Rush in the Heavens.
RED WHITE AND BLUE STRIPES are seen on the flags, shirts, hats, banners, and *waving* in the hands of the MAGA supporters at every Trump rally that I see on television. Chuckling...I'm obviously a Donald fan, and one of my biggest dreams is to get a photo with him: ME - in leather & red MAGA hat, and HIM - in a black suit w/red tie & wearing my Muir. The next time he visits Chicago, I'd love to take him for a drink at Touche (though he'd have to pay, as the bar won't take a LINK card; Also - I want to ride in the limo).  I'd love to show the guys the man that *I* see, a genuine Rush/Hannity Patriot, a President who loves our country enough to speak to us with tough love.  More importantly, I'd want Mr. Trump to sit at the bar with a crowd gathered around him like a Kids in the Hall "Buddy Cole"-monologue, and explain why he believes in American excellence - and why it's important that the Left should as well.  We all need a harsh reminder of how dangerous the world has become, and why a strong United States is necessary - and how easily our freedom can Go Away.  I'd like to hear Donald discuss how "special interest" groups are treated in other countries.  (Russia immediately comes to mind, as Putin openly punishes "Homosexual Propaganda" - and how weak Liberal policies have allowed the Russian President to threaten our freedom from overseas.)  More importantly, I'd like to see if Trump has his own Liberalism *Gasp* moment - like the "gasp" I described in my 3/6 "The Color Purple Rain" blog post, where I discussed Perceived White Racism. 

Complex problems often have simple solutions, and I know that there's an answer to this predicament. It just...doesn't...make...sense that Liberals can't see how their actions are hurting our nation, and if it continues, we'll have no country left.  Democrats like to quote history, especially when calling Trump supporters "fascists," and accusing us of intolerance, because we refuse to accept mediocrity.  To me, Donald Trump is the epitome of success stories, and he's literally gambled *everything* he owns to bring this message to all Americans - in the same way I've done with When People Go Away.  I admire President Trump as much as I do both Hannity & Limbaugh, and I strive to be like them when I live my daily life.  All three men not only fought tooth & nail to reach the pinnacle of their professions, but to spread their word of HOPE - by living the American Dream. We've totally forgotten that the Constitution guarantees, not the *right* to freedom, but the right to pursue freedom & happiness - and that is something we must actively work towards ourselves.
PictureObi-wan, you're my only hope.
RED WHITE AND BLUE STRIPES wave within the opening credits of Fox & Friends every morning, when I get up at 5am. Like footage from a Trump rally, I watch Steve, Lawrence, Ainsley, and Brian, as I settle down in front of the TV, with my computer, coffee, and cats.  I've been playing a lot of catch-up lately, as I stopped following the news for a few months when finishing When People Go Away.  I've been doing deep-dives on China, Russia, North Korea, the Middle East - and our current administration's relationship with Israel & Palestine.  The first thing I noticed was that the *venom* was back; the Democrats have again coordinated with the media to attack Donald Trump with more fervor than 2016.  It's also been many years since I've drawn a cartoon, so I've been going through my pens & pencils, and I have two comics planned for Fox - which I'll do as soon as I can afford new art supplies. I've stopped listening to Talk Radio sadly; my Bose seems hollow without Rush's optimism.  But with 29 years of Limbaugh's voice in my memory, I can still feel his presence today.  And despite the precarious position that we find ourselves in now, I can't help but feel...happy.

"Take this - you can use it," my Mother told me, as she gave me a winning $5 Scratch-off ticket back in November, 2022.  That was followed by her telling me to "just walk down to Northgate and grab the first job that you see in the window."  After she left my house, I stared at the Lotto ticket - before turning my eyes towards my computer.  That was the day I decided, rather than accept a minimum wage job, I was going to do what I truly loved to do - and to write the book I've always wanted.

For the next twelve months I sat at my iMac, and wrote When People Go Away - with Fox News in the background.  As the country crumbled on television, I saw a *miracle* unfolding on my computer's screen, and I watched the curser leave a trail of unexpected words - with a message I did not write, myself.

It's amazing the JOY that achieving one's potential can bring, and I often thought of Rush when I was writing. Like a Prophet with a Bible, Limbaugh was a God with a Golden Microphone, and even though he's gone, I can still hear hear his voice in the faithful ... ✨

And no matter who they are, they always say the very same thing:
Strive for excellence, make America great again, and - - -

"Let not your heart be troubled." 🇺🇸

- Sir Dave
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The Audacity of A New Hope

3/13/2024

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Picture
Ahh, the days when you could describe a groundbreaking masterpiece with, "It's Terrific!"
I WAS WATCHING THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK last night, and I smiled at how cheap the Blockbusters of my youth look today.  I had just noticed how The Imperial Cruiser's inner doors *bounce* slightly when closing, as the set was obviously made of plywood.  I also enjoyed how implausible R2D2's movements were in Dagobah's rainforest, because the robot was on wheels - which would have never rolled in the mud, a fact that was reinforced when Luke struggled with R2's weight, after Nessie spat him out like a snot-rocket.  Add to that, the writing was full of cliches.  Han & Lea's forced love story? - Yecch.  The way Fisher got thrown into Han Solo's arms (in the monster cave) was straight from a sitcom, or an old episode of Star Trek where explosions were bolstered by shaking the camera.  In addition, the movie's dialogue is God-awful.  LEAH: (Batting her eyes at Solo): "You're a scoundrel, and I only like nice men."  SOLO: (Leaning in for a kiss) - "Oh, I think you like scoundrels, Princess.  Are you afraid to get your hands dirty?"  Again, yecch!  And though I respect Lucas's audacity of making Yoda a "Muppet," did he reeeeeeally have to give the puppet the voice of Kermit & Piggy's unholy offspring?  Furthermore, C3Po was just a bitch ...

Thirty-nine years earlier, Orson Welles faced a similar issue when filming CITIZEN KANE.  Like the Star Wars movies, A New Hope in particular, Welles had to tell a staggering story on a shoestring budget.  But as Hitchcock did with 1940's Foreign Correspondent's crash scene, Orson was fucking brilliant when it came to making grand-on-a-shoestring special effects seem believable.  My favorite moment happened when reporter Jerry Thompson is allowed access to the archive of Walter Parks Thatcher, to research Charles Foster Kane.  The underground chamber appears to be made of concrete, but in reality, the whole thing was built with styrofoam or something; the "effect" of a bunker was completely done through sound effects, with dialogue that "echoed," and the deliberate insertion of footsteps on polished granite.  (Chuckling...there were no "bouncy" doors in sight.)  Additional tricks were used in other scenes, like the clever "lighting effect" when Kane stands to clap after Susan's disastrous opera performance (while watching the show, Charles appears well-lit, but when standing to clap, his face goes dark in the shadows), and too many neatly-staged camera shots to mention.  Film Connoisseurs know that in order to truly appreciate a movie, you must first imagine yourself living in the project's era: "Okay, so it's 1941, and Hitler was threatening Europe.  Newspapers & radio were the two main news sources, and though films were creative, their special-effects technology was primitive.  As Citizen Kane was modeled after Randolph Hearst, this was a commentary on his media empire, political aspirations, and of course, his massive mansion.  Now, you take all that in account, and throw in Orson Welles - who was riding high after his War of the Worlds broadcast."  ​You must consider the time before watching the movie, and if you do, you'll truly appreciate what masterpieces both Citizen Kane & The Empire Strikes Back really are.
PictureBiden, B4 Hunter's cocaine kicks in.
Going back to A New Hope, my friend Paul reminded me of the "Klosterman-esque hypotheticals about the practicality of the processes."  (Chuckling - you might want to Google that; the comment was in regards to McSweeney's piece: "On the Implausibilty of the Death Star's Trash Compactor.").  He brought up that fact that in the first Star Wars movie, the whole franchise could have been avoided had the Death Star just blown up Yavin, rather than orbit around it to get to the rebel base moon - BOOM!  I told him that I felt the exact same way when Jeffery Dean Morgan first appeared on The Walking Dead.  The *very* 1st time we see Negan, he's silhouetted/illuminated behind a cloth or something - with his leather jacket & barbed-wire bat slung over his shoulder. Morgan sloooooowly walks around the corner, taunting Rick & the gang with some twisted soliloquy - all while our heroes literally watched w/guns in their hands.  I remember yelling: "JUST SHOOT HIM!"  I mean, why not take care of the problem now, you know?  Sure, AMC would have lost the next four seasons, but the show went on for too long anyway.  (It got to the point where I was rooting for the zombies.).  Besides, can you imagine how cool Morgan's brain matter would have looked when *splattered* all over the sheets -🩸                                                                                                                                                                                                              🩸   🩸   🩸                                                                                                                                                                                                     🩸   🩸   🩸   🩸  🩸       
                                                                                                                           🩸    🩸   🩸    🩸   🩸   🩸                                                                                                                                                                       🩸   🩸   🩸    🩸    🩸    🩸 ?
PictureI genuinely believe that if MTV returned to music videos & exclusive concerts (instead of all the "Buckwild" reality bullshit), the channel would become relevant again.
In my previous blog, I wrote about the film "Radioland Murders," and how fun live, scripted radio serials must have been in the 30s.  My generation had a similar spectacle: Music Television - I WANT MY MTV!  I used to enjoy coming home from the leather bars in the wee hours, then turning on Music TV to wind down from the night. Nowadays, I've switched to YouTube channels of course, where the hits of the 80s/90s are available on hour-long playlists.  But I don't just watch the oldies, I purposely look for newer stuff, as I refuse to get stuck in the past.  Like an old movie with dated special effects, the music videos currently available are much more elaborate, as technology has gotten better. There was so...much...creativity in music & films these days, it's almost hard to fathom.  As a man of a certain age, I feel it's crucial that, in order to stay "young," it's important to actively pay attention to what's happening in the ART of the youth.  And I don't just mean what's occurring in music, film, and the TikTok-y apps, I'm talking about what's happening in the world - the things that we only see *hinted* at in the media.  With that in mind, here's an excerpt from my 1/3/2017 Blog Archive, from Trump's first term in office; it's about "Jaka Parker," a man who secretly recorded daily North Korean life, and posted it on YouTube:

"... Anyway, with camera recording, the viewer follows Jaka Parker down streets, through urban pedestrian tunnels, across intersections with more bikes than cars, and down miles and miles of colorless boulevards lined with bleak, identical, Orwellian apartment buildings.  Unlike footage of soldiers marching though the People's Square, Jaka's videos capture the monotony of North Korean life - a world void of joy.  There are no corner coffee shops or breakfast diners with neon-trimmed windows. There are no 7-Elevens, and certainly no 24-hour superstores with parking lots full of cars. There are no glowing Coke/Pepsi machines, no twinkling LED advertisements, no lines outside the Taco Bell drive-thru.  There is no "entertainment" of any kind - in the windows of buildings, or anywhere on the street - unless you count the billboards of Kim, Kim, and Kim painted within images of Soviet bounty above empty shops and grocery stores. Jaka Parker has captured the "genuine" North Korea, cold & comfortless, repetitive & gray ..."

Can you just imagine?  Living a life void of color, art, music - and hope?  I wrote about living in poverty in my last post, but even my crappy old house is fun to come home to, and there's always something of interest happening in my neighborhood.  I'd discussed North Korea in many of my blogs over the years, but Jaka Parker's videos really hit me hard when I realized what they were *actually* saying: "Please world - Help us!  We're trapped in bondage by a repressive regime, and we live in a country with no JOY!"  I couldn't help but think of the modern Democratic Party, and how its steadily-lowering standards has caused us to - as Robert H. Bork said in his 1996 book - "Slouch Towards Gomorrah."  I see this everywhere I look; it's like a frog slowly boiling in water. Liberals don't realize that by "leveling the playing field so everyone can participate," they're killing the *hope* of the youth of today, which destroys the country from within.  I remember Rush Limbaugh talking about this on his show, coupled with Paul Shanklin's parody: 🎶"We all live in a mellow apathy..."🎶  As a man of creativity, I think that's why Parker's videos hit me so hard: This is what's happening within our own country right now, as liberal apathy enables the slow erosion of hope & joy - destroying the *spark* of inspiration.  But even worse is the cruelty this causes, as the youth of today is led to believe that the JOY of American excellence (which, quite frankly, comes from Conservative values) isn't politically correct.  God put the United States on this world for a reason, a beacon of strength, freedom, excellence, and hope - and it's hard not to notice that Jaka Parker's videos are meant for an American audience.  They are, sadly, a desperate cry for help that we are currently unable to answer - particularly with the Biden administration. 
PictureThe Audacity of Hope
I love the old Star Wars films because of their message that HOPE is not only the Force that unites is, but it's also a goal that we must fight to achieve.  Despite what Liberals may want us to believe, success in life doesn't come from a safe-space, it derives from our Orson Welles willingness to take chances - and to challenge the status quo.  I also love how the movies "matured" as they went on, exactly like Harry Potter books.  The films got bigger budgets and technology vastly improved over their 42-year run; by the time the series was finished (not counting all the spin-off movies, which are still in production), their revenue equated to over ten billion dollars, making George Lucas the very definition of "The American Success Story."  One can only imagine what Welles might have accomplished, had he been alive today.  As a writer myself, I appreciate the ART of these films...that is, the *spark* of creativity that took a scruffy little film (I mean, the 77' Death Star interior looks like Lucas assembled it from the Ace Hardware electrical department, for Christ's sake!) and saw the potential of countless movies, a $32,000,000,000 merchandise franchise, and a grand story arc that once it was finished, rivals When People Go Away.  Impressive.  Especially as Lucas describes himself as "a radical liberal" who doesn't believe in the "capitalist democracy" that seems to have made him Trump-rich.  I mean, with all the money the guy has made, how can he have the *audacity* to even SAY that...?

With that in mind, here's an excerpt from my 9/22/2016 Blog Archive, regarding Ann Coulter's appearance on Rob Lowe's Comedy Central roast:

"... So, I finally got around to watching Comedy Central's roast of Rob Lowe - and I was absolutely horrified by the treatment of Ann Coulter.  Her presence on the dais was clearly a set-up, and as the roasters delivered jokes, there were more Coulter/cunt insults then there were snipes about Soda Pop's sex tapes - or Lowe's perpetual Death Becomes Her looks.  I happen to like Ann Coulter.  She's a wickedly funny/intelligent lady.  And I'm sure she knew that by appearing at the event, she she'd be conservative catnip in a den of liberal lions - more of a target than Lowe, himself.  But what genuinely shocked me were the moments of silence when the camera panned the audience during her set.  The crowd was...seething.  You could feel their anger like radiant heat. They hated Ann Coulter like jihadists hate infidels, and their heart-stopping glares - and refusal to acknowledge a single point she made - marked the first time I truly understood the ideology that separates Clinton and Trump supporters.  It scared the hell out of me ... "

​It's sad when you realize that those that preach tolerance are often the most intolerant of all.  And it's even sadder to learn how deep this intolerance runs, especially within the creative community.  People don't realize the *importance* of creativity, as it's just as crucial to math, science, and spirituality - as it is for ART. Without the *spark* of inspiration, no one would have realized that mold creates penicillin - or that space travel could be achieved by 1969, when The Fifth Dimension sang Age of Aquarius.  But we'll never truly reach cosmic enlightenment until we solve our problems on Earth.  If we fail to learn basic lessons like accepting each other's belief systems, we'll never survive the era of quantum computing & interstellar travel to experience our Manifest Destiny: Humanity is meant to achieve Time Travel in 1000 years, as we gain an understanding of the many dimensions that already exist around us.  

For me, this time is magical.
PictureIn the name of Love...
Back in 1990, Jesus Jones sang:

🎶"A woman on the radio talks about revolution, when it's already passed her by...🎶...Bob Dylan didn't have this to sing about, you know it's good to feel alive!...🎶... I was alive and I waited, waited...🎶...I was alive and I waited for this...🎶...Right here, right now...🎶...there is no other place I want to be...🎶...Right here, right now...🎶...Watching the world wake up from history!"🎶 

​The first time I heard the song, I got the same chills as Moby's "Signs of Love."  From Citizen Kane's bygone newspaper era to Star Wars' depiction of galactic majesty, the world of ART is filled with foreshadowing of the people we're about to become.  Everyone thinks humanity's next phase of Evolution will take as many eons as the first, but that's not the case at all.  People forget that we went from horseback to space travel in just 69 years, a testament to our species creativity - and the spark of inspiration that leads to great ideas.  This is why I find it so hard to fathom that we're fighting against our nature - and God's Intelligent Design.  

You see, change is happening all around us, but we're so preoccupied with destructive matters like Political Correctness that we're failing to see it.  Nobody's even noticed that God created an entirely new color palate, a prism that we're unable to see without better technology.  Humanity has mistaken "spirituality" for "religious dogma," and that is holding us back.  People must realize the Almighty is technology, the Divine source code that binds all matter in the Universe - God's first *spark* of the creative inspiration for life ... ✨

I have a dream that the day will come when we all join hands in love.  For it's the hand of God that humanity must embrace, to lift us UP into the Heavens - and to the joy that lays beyond.  

It's the Audacity of a New Hope. 💫

- Sir Dave
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The Color Purple Rain

3/6/2024

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Picture
"All our times have come...Here, but now they're gone..."
THE WANING AMETHYST TWILIGHT cast an eerie purple glow on the skeleton's faces, as Radar & I stared in amusement while we smoked on the Ballydoyle's sundeck.  The ghouls looked like puppets on strings, and the fact they were standing on the ground floor below meant they must have been nine feet tall - as the deck was located on the pub's second story.  Like two 50-year-old kids peering over a ledge, Radar & I looked down to the courtyard below, a massive brick parkway that threads between the buildings of downtown Aurora.  There were purple skeletons everywhere.  They wore luminescent makeup that glowed in the neon blacklight.  There were also a number of The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy characters dancing in a growing crowd of locals who were gathering around a DJ Booth, which was wrapped in *twinkle lights*.  The DJ was obviously playing "Don't Fear the Reaper," and Radar & I quickly stamped out our cigarettes, threw a twenty at the server, grabbed our jackets & Macbooks, and ran downstairs to see what was happening. 

​It had to be good.

Once we arrived, we learned that The Basement of the Dead was starting within the hour.  The courtyard looked like a Wal-Mart parking lot had been attacked by The Walking Dead, and the air smelled like draft beer, wet fall leaves, and ozone from hot power cables.  Gas-powered generators rumbled in the background as Radar & I explored the festivities; I couldn't drink because I was in outpatient rehab at the time, so Radar consumed heavily on my behalf.  A crowd was gathering around the entrance, so the two of us got in line.  While we waited, Radar used his computer to tap into the event's security system, so we watched the costumed staff smoke weed (inside the haunted house, before it opened) through their own CCTV cameras.  Even though we'd gotten there early, the wait was still an hour; Radar sent me on a beer run, and on my way back, I chatted with a purple-faced Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.  The haunted house itself was totally worth the wait.  It checked all the right boxes: creepy music, creepy lighting, creepy-crawlies on surfaces that hadn't been cleaned since the last time it came to town.  I especially enjoyed how d i s t u r b i n g the "narrative" was.  In addition to the unnecessarily-realistic horror-house staples - zombies, vampires, cadavers on bloody porcelain autopsy tables - some of the rooms were shocking: *A Soylent Green abortion clinic. *A patent handcuffed to a mental-ward bed, begging/screaming "I'm not a crew member!  These people are crazy!  PLEASE HELP ME!" *A chilling church chamber packed w/cultists, where a goat's-head-masked-zealot preached the coming apocalypse beneath swinging candlelit chandeliers.  *A man in a Pearl Jam hoodie, throwing up Jello-shots, cheese curds, and The Ballydoyle's shepherd's pie - the visuals were magnificent! Radar & myself chuckled in that we seemed to frighten more customers than the staff, itself.  A rotting horse-man actually yelled at me because I tried using my iPhone to see - but in my defense, I was getting blurry-eyed from the secondhand bong smoke. When we finally reached the EXIT door, we each felt mentally violated - which is exactly how one should feel after spending $45/ticket for a good haunted house.  On the way back to my truck, I bought us both T-shirts.
Picture"Yes, children. The fence really IS electrified!"
A few weeks later I was standing on a neighborhood's sidewalk, staring at a different haunted house in absolute horror. The neighbor had spent the past three months decorating his yard for Halloween, and as the night was finally upon us, I approached his home with the same sort of caution that a policeman would use when "talking down" a suicide jumper.  His yard was as intense as The Basement of the Dead.  He had clearly missed his calling as a B-Movie Special Effects Technician.  I'd been watching him for weeks as he'd set up displays: *Dead men on nooses.  *Animated corpses crawling from graves.  *Dracula, spring-loaded, ready for a coffin jump-scare with a push of a button.⚰️ I did a double-take at the black leather restraints he had used (on the rusty metal table where a shouting man was being cut in half by a circular saw) and wondered if they came from MY basement.  My gaze then wandered through the illuminated, purply, dry-ice fog to the pleading, writhing, AND - please forgive me for using the same phrase twice, but - "unnecessarily-realistic" convict-in-an-electric-chair, whose electrocution-process was triggered by a motion-sensor whenever someone passed on the sidewalk ... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!  This dude must have spent close to $5000 on his yard, and almost *everything* was inappropriate for children.  To make matters worse, I was so distracted by the Trick-or-Treaters running from the house crying, the asshole scared the shit out of me, when he snuck up behind me (dressed as Leatherneck, of course) and literally yelled "BOO!"  I growled at him audibly, spun on my boot heel, and came face-to-face with an angry black mother who was storming from her car because her kids had gotten so scared from the spectacle, they had actually dropped their candy.

Her eyes met mine, and I GASPED...
And that's when it hit me: This is the moment where perceived white racism comes from.
Picture"In your eyes, the lights, the heat...in your eyes, I am complete..."
As a man who's finally recovering from a lifetime of mental illness, I've grown observant to a fault.  Part of it is a *multiple personality thing*, as it takes great effort to appear calm on the surface when many different people are fighting for my attention. It's often hard for me to "live in the moment," so to speak, so I've trained myself to pay close attention to other people's facial expressions.  Quite frankly, until recently my brain was so broken, I literally had to tell myself, "If someone smiles, they must be happy with me; if they frown, they must not like me."  Over the decades, my observations became more nuanced, and I grew hyper-sensitive to other's demeanor when talking to me.  I'd watch their mannerisms.  I'd notice what they were doing with their hands when they spoke.  I'd pay close attention to people's "eyes" in particular, where they were looking, how were their pupils focused.  I'd use this information to decide if a person was being honest with me, or to see if they realized how insecure I was. Because of the way I experience *time*, even small moments become seared into my memory, and they're impossible to forget - until something more powerful overrides them.  And when you've spent 45 years watching other's disappointment of you, even a moment of hesitation can be overpowering in the most hurtful of ways.  For that reason, as a Proud Gay Republican, I've reached the following conclusion:
African Americans deserve Reparations,
and an apology from a Competent Republican President.  ​
And I know that goes against the position of most in the GOP, but we're wrong on this issue - and we need to fix it fast.  BUT, the moment that Reparations are paid, this entire race issue must be put to bed immediately, as the hyper-sensitivity caused by unintentional/perceived racism is damaging in ways that most of us don't realize. Yes, slavery will always be a stain on our country's history, but what the modern Democrat Party has done to use that fact to divide us is something far worse, and far more damaging.  Quite frankly, it's because of Democratic policies from the past 30 years that Reparations are now needed, as I didn't feel this way in the 90s.  It's no wonder that we're at the point where a simple Gasp! has caused such an issue, but like so many things in life, very big problems often have simple solutions.  And in the case of "perceived white racism" is concerned, it's literally as easy as a heartfelt apology - and an injection of cash, assuming Chuck & Nancy left anything in the Treasury.  Of course, the really sad thing is that this nation is in such bad shape with Biden, we don't have the ability for a proper Reparations payment now.  When Trump retakes office, he literally has to redirect ALL available national resources to immediately secure the border and reinvest in the military so we have a country left for African Americans to live & thrive in.  Donald must make the formal apology (and the promise to pay), but it won't be until the second term of our next Republican President that Reparations can be issued a check - and even then, it's probably going to be capped at $10,000 per person.  But Trump can began the process quickly with Executive Orders that pledge government support for quality churches, organizations that encourage the traditional family unit, and Republican-led legislative policies that will do everything possible to give Black People the HOPE that Obama promised - and failed - to deliver. 

​Sadly, it's come to that...​
Picture"God is trying to tell you something..."
The reason I've done a 180 on Reparations is understandable: While writing When People Go Away, I've been forced to utilize government assistance to help pay the bills.  A few nights ago, I had to use Dane's LINK card for groceries; we literally walked through Aldi with a calculator-app, counting every penny spent. (We even had to scour my truck's seat cushions, searching for a quarter for the shopping cart.) Dane comes from a much poorer background than me, so he's adept as living as cheaply as possible; in addition to sticking to a strict food budget, he's showing me how to "juggle" utilities with phone calls, payment plans, and temporary mortgage deferments.  I've been lucky in that it's only been recently where I've had to make "Draconian Budget Cuts"- to utilize a phrase that Democrats use when describing Republican policies.  Until I got cirrhosis, I'd been reasonably successful in my own retail management job, and I had plenty of funds to buy food, pay utility/credit card bills, save for home improvement projects, and to set a little aside each month for the occasional Broadway show, David Sedaris tickets, & Touche. But over the past year of writing my new novel - the last six months in particular - I've been driven into a life of poverty, as my house falls apart around me.   I was staring this morning at the rips on my 20-year-old carpeting, and the towel bar that fell in my bathroom, beneath the room's busted ventilation fan.  I found myself adding chores to our kitchen dry-erase board, which Dane bought at a thrift store:

* Duct tape carpet on stairs (use white, not gray).
* Drain water from refrigerator (it's leaking again).
* Spot-paint peeling areas of front porch railings (careful - they're rotten), and mudroom.
* Flush kitchen & bathroom drains with bleach (they stink again).  Use the purple Fabuloso if out of bleach.
* Spray area rugs with "Purrrfect" (follow directions; it takes 24 hours to work).
* List Radar's guitar on Facebook; shoot for $800, but take as low as $500.
* Thank Radar for giving us guitar.

Sure, the place *looks* nice at a glance, but that's because I'm a clean-freak who knows how to decorate.  Truth be told, this house is a dump that's unfit for Section-8 - and I've been living here 18 years this June because it's all I can afford.  As I helped Dane box our $129 worth of off-brand groceries (we couldn't afford bags), I realized why THIS is the reason that Republicans must apologize to black people - as Democrats sure aren't going to do it.  Modern Liberalism is the reason that many African Americans are forced to live in poverty, and as far as I'm concerned, using a LINK card at Aldi isn't just "poverty," it's squalor.  And like it took a Gasp! for me to finally understand perceived racism, it's taken me living in this shithole to genuinely experience the hopelessness that most blacks must feel while trying to fight their way out of the welfare system.  Again, the Republicans must apologize for the bondage that Democrats have put them in.  For me, I cannot apologize enough...
Picture"What a night, what a crowd, makes you glad, makes you proud..."
Friday marks Radar's return after a two-year stint with a now-ex girlfriend.  Radar's one of my best friends, and we'd lived together for almost seven years before he met the Babadook.  I remember the day that he'd first answered my Craigslist ad; he pulled up on a Harley, and came to the door in leather, with a cigarette between his teeth.  We'd bonded immediately as we're both Gen-X'rs, and Radar's quirks - autism, a gift for numbers & music, a sister who's a San Francisco dominatrix - played well with my multiple personalities, schizophrenic writing process, and primal need to always be near my Dyson. The neighbors had no idea what to make of us.  With the exception of the red lights in the basement, my house looks like a Norman Rockwell painting, but when the front door opens - and the two of us emerge like a pair of thugs - parents often gather their children.  Radar's lived across the globe, but New Orleans is where he calls home.  He also has duo US/British citizenship, a genius IQ, and he speaks fluent German, Japanese, & 'Merican.  Radar's my polar-opposite when it comes to politics, but as I can coexist with anybody, that's never been a problem.  Over the years, we've had many late-night bonding talks, and he's helped me to understand not the Democrat perspective, but the "Liberal" one.  I actually have no problems with Liberals.  A functional government should have a yin-&-yang balance of Liberals *and* Conservatives.  I like to call Radar a "Bill Maher Liberal," in that Radar - like Maher - presents his political arguments in intelligent, realistic, and humorous bullet-points - and though we don't agree politically, our discussions on politics are always fun.  My favorite Radar quote: "Hillary Clinton is like America's ex-wife.  You married her twenty years ago, had a couple of kids together, but now you're sick of her and you just want her to go the fuck away."  Also like Maher, Radar always knows the *purrrfect* place to drop an F-bomb.

In the years we lived together, Radar's taught me many things.  Deep-frying a turkey comes to mind.  So does having to repaint the kitchen because of all the damn cigarette & marijuana smoke.  He's tried to teach me guitar on several occasions, but I struggle with where to put my hands on the strings - SCREECH!  He's also been showing me how to understand football, a sport I've been interested in since Limbaugh used to talk about it.  I like Radar because he challenges me, and isn't afraid to stand up to my bullshit.  When I was dying of cirrhosis two years ago, Radar used to grab my swollen, purple legs and drag me off the couch.  I'd often whine, "Dude - I can't move," but the 55-year-old-goth would have none of it: "GET OFF YOUR ASS, OR YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!"  I didn't understand it at the time, but Radar's concern (and grief over potentially losing a friend) was actually an act of Tough Love - similar to how brazen Trump talks, when he told African Americans in 2016: "The Democrats have failed you.  What have you got to lose by voting for a Republican?"  What Radar was really saying was: "Dude, listen:  You can either die while making excuses, or you can *live* and find a way to get through this.  I love you Brother, but it's not healthy for me to see you kill yourself - and if you don't knock it off, I'm going to leave you to die."  And it took him actually going through with his threat for me to realize how right he was.  Luckily, our friendship was strong enough to survive, and as of this weekend, my house will again be in order.
Picture"Sailors, fighting in the dance hall...Oh man, look at that caveman go! It's the freakiest show..."
Going back to football, I'm looking forward to watching games again, now that Radar is back in the house.  He's obviously a SAINTS fan, and I bought him a purple hometeam helmet during the last Christmas we spent together.  I remember watching Lady GaGa's halftime show with him, during Superbowl 2017. Her performance was so good, I ended up doing a halftime-show YouTube deep-dive, and I pulled up many videos from great ones over the years.

The most impressive show I found was Prince's 2007 performance, when a sudden thunderstorm almost wrecked the onstage electronics.  I don't know what the original plan was - an army of slutty dancers, I suppose - but with the weather's severity, it was clear that Draconian cuts had been made on-the-fly for performer's safety.  The result were just three Black People: two talented women, and Prince in Bowie's "Life on Mars" suit, with a dew-rag on his forehead.  The tiny ensemble was dwarfed by the massive stage, but with the obvious risk of electrocution, it's amazing that Prince was able to sing anything at all.

THUNDERCLOUDS RUMBLED and lightning flashed above as the pyrotechnic-crew made the sign-of-the-cross, starting the show.  Prince then sang a medley of hits, opening with "Let's Go," and others from the era: "Baby, I'm a Star," "1999," & "Proud Mary."  In a twist of cosmic irony, the music built up to PURPLE RAIN - in perfect time with the storm.  The stadium spotlights illuminated the downpour in a vivid *amethyst twilight*, and the moment was no less than magical as Purple Rain was literally performed in actual purple rain.

It are moments like this that prove the existence of God, when people find ways to reach their potential, despite significant obstacles.  God is "creativity," the ability to always see a solution to a problem, and to understand that the creative *spark* is often as simple as a Gasp...

As we enter the Age of Aquarius, the last gasps of all of our struggles must be addressed with Tough Love, before we explore the heavens.  Republican red easily combines with Democrat blue under realistic circumstances, and the two make the Color Purple - which is the Gaspee of Kings. 👑

And Kings come in many forms, from musical Princes to competent Presidents:
PictureThe golden beams of EIB light...
🎶 I never meant to cause you any sorrow, 🎶
🎶 I meant to cause you any pain - 🎶

​🎶 I must offer my formal apology, 🎶 
🎶 to promise that I'm here now - 🎶 
🎶 and this will never happen again.  🎶

​🎶 As humanity finally looks up to the heavens, 🎶 
🎶we'll realize our struggles have not been in vain - 🎶
​
🎶 Our next thousand years will be a time of exploration, 🎶
🎶 as our little blue world has finally become ... 🎶

💫 The Color of Purple Reign 💫
​
- Sir Dave
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The Dark Side of the Rainbow Flag

3/3/2024

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Picture
The House of Yes: "Every goddamn hurricane."
IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT five nights ago as my living room windows flashed like strobe lights, with my face silhouetted in the glass.  The year's first violent thunderstorm was approaching, and the weathermen, as usual for spring, were reading directly from the Bible.  I wasn't worried of course; this happens every year.  Besides, I've been spring-cleaning this week, so my basement holding cell - the safest place to ride out a tornado - had been freshly hosed-out once I'd removed the remains, should this really be happening.  I LOL at the western burbs every March, when spring breaks through in the biggest way possible, breaking everything in its path - and scaring all the Hispanics.  The sky turns black, the trees turn sideways, and not only do my trash cans get turned over, the garbage inside gets blown down the street - Mother Nature's recycling service.  I smiled on Tuesday as my Adirondack chairs played bumper-cars on the porch while my wind chimes rang like machine gun fire by my drenched rainbow flag.  While all this was happening, my younger cat just sorta' shrugged his shoulders, and purringly-hinted at the front door. (No, you may NOT go outside!) At one point in the storm, every...fucking...weather app on my phone started screaming all at once: RUN! RUN! RUN! (Rolling my eyes.) Of course, it even more irritating because I was trying to watch a recording On-Demand, but the county EBS (also screaming, RUN! RUN! RUN!) kept knocking out the programming, and it was a really good episode of "Capote vs. the Swans."  "I suppose the internet's still working," I thought with a sigh, "so at least I have YngMstrDetroit to pass the time."  As my house has stood for 121 years so far, I actually wasn't concerned that the place would fall onto a witch w/ruby slippers or anything, so I settled back onto my couch and enjoyed the evening's light show - and the kind of website that, in hindsight, I probably should have closed the blinds before accessing.
PictureThe Wall's visual metaphors were *esquisite*.
After the storm subsided a bit & On-Demand restored, I ended up smoking a bowl and watching Pink Floyd's The Wall from 1982.  It had been *decades* since I'd last seen the film, and as the wind became rain, I was in the mood for something more than just music on the radio - and the movie struck the perfect sweet spot between clean house & dirty mind.  I was too young for R-Rated films in 82', but like my Sweeney Todd soundtrack, I've had the album memorized for decades.  I remember how popular the movie was in the day; it was tailor-made for midnight showings at the Springfield IL drive-in, best viewed through a cloud of grass, Southern Comfort, and herbicidal fumes from the surrounding cornfields' overspray.  The film was so good for its era.  And it went as far as censors would allow with Oedipal abuse, mental illness, and addiction.  Like Saturday Night Fever, "The Wall" was searingly visual, and its use of late-70s animation was perfectly juxtaposed with WWII images that tough cliche *today*, were actually cutting-edge for the time.   The softening rain continued outside as my buzz allowed the film to wash over me.  I was taken by the amount of dead-on material references, specific to the 1982 audience: *The 81' Mercedes Roadster.  *Late-70s digital electronics w/quivering LEDs.  *The whirs & clicks of early satellite communications technology.  *LPs in tight plastic wrappers.  *Marlboro Reds in boxes. *Run Like Hell's RUN! RUN! RUN! *7up. It was fun to watch how the film accomplished what it did without the use of modern CGI, in the same way that The Wizard of Oz used B&W house paint & sepia makeup tricks to give the illusion of opening the door into a Technicolor world.  My dear friend Paul reminded me of The Dark Side of the Rainbow, the infamous experience where Dark Side of the Moon is played side-by-side with The Wizard of Oz; he said that if you really "read into the visuals," the sync is "bizarrely effective."   Though I've never seen the show, I knew exactly what he'd meant as my TV played my favorite film image: a big, black, beast of a 76' Cadillac Fleetwood limousine idling in the night (within an illuminated fog), while a drugged-out Pink is propped, sponge-bathed, dressed, RE-drugged (while a sleazy-agent shoves 100s into the hotel manager's pockets) - all set against "Comfortably Numb."  Yeah, sure, it's waaaaaay over the top, but I'm standing to CLAP anyway.  Especially for the Caddy. And the really cool animations of screaming faces trapped within the wall.

Another gem I saw in a Cadillac was 1978's "Superman," with Marlin Brando & Gene Hackman.  Like The Wall, Superman played at the same drive-in, and my parents took me to see it in our 77' DeVille.  Those were the days before FM simulcasting, so the film's muffled audio had a Darth Vader quality as it played from a corded, clip-on speaker that hung in the window like a carhop's tray of burgers.  Superman was awesome.  It was a masterpiece of the days before CGI.  I actually rewatched the movie later Tuesday night, and I was delighted with how clever the special effects people had been, especially with their use of fuzzy backgrounds & gauze filters to hide the fact that Christopher Reeve was obviously flying with Peter Pan strings - as he soared through the sky in his cape & wheelchair.  (He only looked *wobbly* once, during his very first takeoff within the Fortress of Solitude.)  It was fun to watch how the director distracted us from baby Soup's cheap-looking 🚀star-rocket🚀 by bright bursts of color and unexpected splays of cosmic sparkly-things.  (Also, quick note: the film is PACKED with wonderful Superman cliches.  Especially the as-fast-as-a-speeding-bullet-RUN!-RUN!-RUN!-scene, where Clark literally outruns a train!)  I particularly enjoyed how well-edited the "helicopter crash" scene is: if you watch carefully, the whole thing takes place in just under four minutes ... but in that short time, firetrucks arrive, police screech to a stop, and the local media *just happened* to have microwave trucks parked around the corner, ready to do live, on-the-spot interviews with a crowd of 300 people that had suddenly formed in front of the Daily Planet - all while Lois's pillbox hat gently flutters down in front of Clark Kent, like a feather.  (Standing to CLAP again.)  My original experience seeing the movie (in 78') involved getting to the drive-in early, then playing on the swing sets just below the outdoor screen - while Father got food from the snack stand.  Yeah, drive-ins were quickly-fading relics from my parents' era, but they were still around in the seventies - and I'm glad to have gotten to enjoy them.   The John Williams score on the other hand, on a cheap AM radio-box, not so much.
Picture"The problem's plain to see; too much technology..."
People have forgotten what life was like in the days before the internet.  Specifically, today's youth hasn't a clue how much fun it was to go to "live performance" things, like Rocky Horror at midnight, cosmic bowling nights, or weekend bonfires in rural Illinois.  When I was in my twenties, bars were more common than they are today; with no smartphone Grindr apps, we had to get dressed up and actually go somewhere.  Everybody drank.  Everybody smoked.  Everybody seemed to travel in packs, piling into Daddy's midlife crisis car (typically a Trans Am) and peeling into the night with the T-top in the trunk, as Roxette's "Joyride" played in the cassette deck.  Concerts were really big in Central Illinois, and I remember the night that STYX came to Springfield's Prairie Capitol Convention Center to perform their 1983 album: Killroy Was Here.  Like the brazen stereotypes in Pink Floyd's "The Wall," Mr. Roboto was filled with deliciously-offensive slanty-eyed, bucky-toothed, Charlie-Chan-y Japanese people, back in the day when everybody feared that James Clavell's "Nobel House" (starring Remington Steele's Pierce Brosnon in the miniseries) was about to overtake Ronald Regan's America.  But again, what was different back then was that we got off our ASSES and did things with each other, even if it was just going to the mall.  On weekdays after high school, everyone immediately ran from the bus to the phone, and made plans to socialize in person.  We'd even watch television together, on the big prime-time nights when DALLAS ruled our Fridays, or watching sitcoms while doing homework - as our mothers desperately tried to make frozen pizzas edible by piling on extra cheese.  And of course there were the school events, the proms, the homecomings, the painful field trips to dusty, local museums.  For me, I did a lot of theater - at least until my memory issues caused me to forget my lines.  I also bowled quite a bit - about the best I could manage, considering my high school social status - and the perfect outlet for the unpopular kids.  I was actually almost Prom King in 1987 (the geeks rigged the election), but because we got the math wrong, I missed the bucket of pig's blood by five votes.  Still, whether popular or not, we all tried to find something to do, and that meant spending time with each other.  And as I watched the waning rain drip off my rainbow flag Tuesday, I realized how much I missed that...
PictureBob has a "Moan-a Lisa" in his entry.
On the subject of doing things with real people, I'm attending my first Wednesday Night Trivia at some Boystown bar I've never heard of. Apparently, I'm a ringer.  And by that I mean, I love the show Schitt's Creek - and I know things like Moira's ridiculous outfits weren't "custom costumes," they were actual dresses made by real high-end fashion designers.  (Thanks, Huck.).  For those who don't know, Schitt's Creek seems to be the new "Absolutely Fabulous," and is basically what would happen if the Trumps' Jewish cousins had to RUN! RUN! RUN! from Manhattan to Green Acres.  The reason this is funny is not so much the contents of the show itself, but rather because my Trivia Team seems to be from Touche.  I'm not surprised, of course.  Even Leatherman have "needs" that can't be met by the clubroom's 2am Sunday rush - and that includes "culture."  And yes, I DO consider Schitt's Creek to be good, solid culture, even if it is a bit...*pop*.  I love pop culture.  My house is decorated in it.  

I've known one of my trivia buddies for over fifteen years now (He's "Bob" in the book, Touche), and I've been to his house several times.  Bob is a former cop, ex-dean, and he's basically a walking wall of muscle, with leather pants, boots, handcuffs on his chest harness - and graphic BDSM T-shirts that leave nothing to the imagination. (His eyes are in a perpetual state of rolling, btw.)  I'd seen photos of his rustic cabin at the club, so I kinda' figured that his house would look the same.  But when he opened the door on my very first visit, all I could do was gasp...

Here's the text I sent him the next day:

​(Yawn)
Morning -
I just woke up with a face full of CAT.

Before today's festivities, I wanted to drop a quick like to say thanks - I had a really nice time on Wed.  The food was good, the conversation was better, and your place was pretty impressive.

(Pause)

Actually, that's a complete & total lie.  Your home was fucking AMAZING.

And I don't mean just because it was nice, well-decorated, or expensive ... I mean, it was so intense, it was "chilling."  Literally.  Like a gloved hand over one's mouth, it literally took my breath away.  It didn't have hallways, it had "corridors."  It didn't have rooms, it had "chambers."  Like Studio 54, "there was always another door," and every room OOZED with layers of history, memories, and the ghosts of previous occupants.  I...was...intoxicated.

One little detail that I absolutely loved was the fact you'd chosen a 60s/70s "MOD" furniture set, in leather of course, but also in distressed brown, rather than black.  The juxtaposition of scruffy mid-century modern was perfectly paired with the tasteful restraint of the rest of the room's decor - a room that was not only the heart of the house, but also meant solely for conversation.  No television.  No stereo.  No distractions of any kind.  Even my iPhone on the table felt offensive.  Wow.  I mean, just ... wow.

You genuinely surprised me.  And few people are able to do that.

Chuckling - as a writer, I guess I'd judged the book by its cover.  But again, when I really think about it, nothing should have come as a surprise.  This man was as detail-oriented as me when I first met him; I just hadn't noticed.  In the days where I still called myself a "Bondage Top," Bob was the very first person to offer criticism on my ropework - which I needed to hear.  (He told me that I needed to invest in padded restraints - which I did immediately.)  Bob's one of many people I've only recently grown to appreciate in my life, and I'm looking forward to seeing him outside the club, and in a totally different element than in what I've grown familiar - in a LIVE situation, rather that the bar's fantasy world.
PictureJudging from the bondage in the center, I'm guessing this is YngMstrDetroit's new video.
The rain finally stopped as Tuesday morphed into Wednesday, and after Superman ended I still wasn't ready for bed, so I scrolled through On-Demand looking for something else.  I ended up on George Lucas's Radioland Murders from 1994, and I grabbed a new vape before settling back to watch another movie.  I love old-time radio in general, the sci-fi's in particular, and the comedic film does a nice job capturing the era of live, scripted AM broadcasting.  It's no secret that I'm a Talk Radio fan (Heavenly megadittos, Rush!), and I typically have music playing 24/7.  Radioland Murders tells the fictional story of a new Chicago radio station's disastrous opening night.  The screwball comedy is pop-culture masturbatory-material, especially for those familiar with the programs of Orson Welles' The War of the Worlds days. My all-time favorite radio drama is X-Minus-One's "A Pail of Air," a 1956 adaptation of Fritz Lieber's story from the December 51's Galaxy Magazine, which I have a bookmarked eBay search for. When I was a kid in the early 1970s, I used to listen to old-time radio in the dark while trying to sleep as my parents fought loudly in the kitchen.  Like the pre-CGI effects in Superman & The Wall, the producers of 1930s/40s radio were so so clever; I loved how they built a vivid audio atmosphere by simply tearing paper, dipping tuning forks into water, and mimicking horse trot by clip-clocking coconuts on gravel - while a stagehand held a boom-mike as close as possible.  Radioland Murders is full of moments like this.  Little details, little nuances, spit-out-your-coffee situations.  The movie's best catastrophe happens when two scripts get mixed, and a pair of biddies read competing stories - one, a cozy coffee-chat; and two, a brutally-violent Viking fight - while LIVE on the air. RUN! RUN! RUN! to commercial, and hope that Mae West hasn't drank so much bourbon, she slurs up her lines.  Ah, the days of Radio Days, complete with studio audiences, and a good ten years before the cough button!
Picture"That's the last time I mix Rexaulti, poppers, and boxed Chardonnay!"
The stars began to twinkle through the clouds around two in the morning, when I ultimately succumbed to my cat's sad eyes, and let him out into the night.  I popped my head out the screen door when I did this (I wanted to check for witches w/ruby slippers, of course), and I nodded to my praying neighbors, who were looking at me for some reason.  It made me think about how much Hispanic culture never forgot the importance of "social interaction" during good times & bad.  It reminded me of the world I used to remember, when we surrounded ourselves with friends & family - rather than social apps.

As I closed my door and went back to the couch, I killed the TV and put 🎶Dark Side of the Moon🎶on my Bose.  As the melancholy music filled the darkness, I settled back into the throw pillows, pulled up an afghan, and folded my hands across my chest.  As Pink Floyd began Breathe (In The Air), I was reminded of the Robert Frost quote: "Good fences make good neighbors."  I thought about how much my own neighbors have changed over the years, and how they finally treat me like a person, rather than the maricon with the nice hedge wall.

The walls that separate our lives from each other are very easy to take down. We just need to set aside our phones for a bit, and drink in the beauty that already surrounds us - as in our faces as an unexpected thunderstorm.  I genuinely believe that when these things happen, it's done because God wants our attention - and to remind us of the importance of actually talking - and *listening* - to each other.  We have free will of course, so it's our choice whether or not we hear him, but as a man who's never forgotten the past, I feel it's important that we do ...

Because you see, if we listen closely, once the storm subsides, we'll hear the little details - like a cat exploring the early-morning lawn, as the few remaining raindrops run, run, run down it paws. 💧💧💧

And that was the very last thing on my mind, when I closed my eyes and finally went to sleep - as the morning sun made a prism on the dark side of my rainbow flag. 🏳️‍🌈
- Sir Dave
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Hungry Like the Woolf

2/23/2024

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Picture"Darken in the city, night is a wire...Stream in the subway, earth is a fire...do-do-do-do-do..."
SO, I LOOKED A BIT LIKE A MONTY PYTHON SKIT a few days ago, as I projectile-vomited in front of my truck, sending pasty-colored eggs, onions, feta-cheese & orange juice splattering across the storage facility pavement. It had been a rough night.  The previous evening's dinner - salmon, asparagus, & garlic mashed potatoes - had not set well as I'd tossed n' turned in my sleep.  I'd felt okay when I'd first gotten up, thought I'd noticed some ominous stomach gurgling when standing in the shower after breakfast.  Dane wasn't feeling well either. We had left early in the day to move the contents of his storage unit, and we had to roll down my pickup's windows as the two of us seemed to be in a farting contest.  We'd barely made it through one trip when it became clear we'd gotten food poisoning.  We cut the day short, got back to the house by one, then I spent the rest of the afternoon dry-heaving in the toilet while trying not to shit myself.  I don't remember much of the day, but I know we ended in bed after it got dark.  My dreams were filled with images too disgusting to blog, though I do recall waking up around 5am Friday - intertwined with Dane in my once-white sheets, surrounded by damp half-eaten Oreos.  Apparently, he'd gotten cookies in the wee hours - and had brought a handful to bed.  He'd also emptied my barf-bucket, picked up all the wet Kleenex, grabbed more Gatorade, and still found time to make a little snack.  I didn't realize that it was possible to feel both "sweet" & "sweaty" at the same time, but, regardless, I still couldn't shower fast enough when I got up. 

The whole experience made me think of my late Grandmother, on the day she overcame both her constipation- and her racism - on the same afternoon.  Gram had lived with my parents at the time, and as an old Catholic woman who used the N-word with the frequency of "the," she was a relic of the 1940s who was completely out-of-step with late 1990s political-correctness; we often had to warn her about language before taking her to the grocery store.  She saw no problem with the N-word; it was how Polish women of her era actually talked.  She also had an issue with the wetbacks, the hippies, the Methodists,  and "the gays" - that is until both my sister and myself came out of the closet.  I used to joke: "Hey, Gram - look at it this way: Father has someone to watch sports with, Mother has someone to go shopping with ... just not the kids they originally thought."  (That usually got me a dirty look.)  But going back to constipation, Gram like to eat hearty Polish cuisine: eggs, sausage, potatoes, fatty lunchmeat on buttered bread, sauerkraut n' bean pierogis with salt & sour cream - and anything fried in Crisco.  It's as though her diet was intentionally designed for gastric-distress, so when the fried bologna sandwiches finally caught up to her on a different Thursday afternoon, we realized that she hadn't experienced a bowel-movement in over a week when she literally crawled up the basement stairs, pushing a basket of laundry.

Shit.

After being rushed to the hospital, Gram spent the next three days taking oral laxatives and twice-daily enemas. "We're going at her from both ends," the friendly black nurse liked to joke, though the doctor was far more serious: "It's been so long since Stella's had a bowel movement, her body has gone septic - and there's a chance we might lose her."  It was a sobering moment to hear Gram's situation, and the family began to gather.  For the next 72 hours, we kept a vigil in the nearby waiting room as the African-American nurse rolled by twice a day with a cart filled with towels, gloves, hanging rubber bags of warm liquid, hand sanitizer, and a shop-vac tube with a special attachment that looked like it came from my basement dungeon.  

The end seemed near when a miracle happened on the start of the fourth day, as my Father & I opened the door to Grandma's room.  As soon as we entered, we were hit by a smell as putrid as a port-o-potty, and we instinctively brought our fists to our mouths, trying not to swallow the air.  "We just had a breakthrough, and Stella's gonna' be alright!" the nurse happily chirped, as she peeled off her gloves and threw them in the trash.  Before we could stop her, she went on to explain: "She was so impacted, her fecal matter had solidified.  It felt just like a coil of brown Silly Putty.  I actually had to crouch between her legs, and pull the feces out like a garden hose."  I went to ask about HIPPA rules, but Father stopped me: "Well, I'm glad she's okay.  If you don't mind, we're going to - COUGH! COUGH! COUGH! - give you ladies a little privacy, if that's alright?"  The helpful black nurse was happy to oblige, and Father & I ran from the room.  God could only imagine how humiliating it must have been for a racist old Polish woman to have a young black nurse literally pull shit out of her ass, like dragging a wet cat by its tail.  Not surprisingly, in the days, weeks, months, and years to follow, we never heard the N-word from Grandmother's mouth again.
Picture"Woman, you want me, give me a sign...and catch my breathing, even closer behind..."
The radio was playing "Hungry Like the Wolf," as I pulled up to Touche with a shit-eating grin on my face, listening to WLS in my truck.  I try not to live in the past of course, but the station plays 80s music every Friday & Saturday night, and like my Father used to listen to Dick Biondi on the 50s/60s station, the music of the 1980s are now considered OLDIES.  I parked, shut the engine, gathered my phone, vape, & reading glasses, and then headed into the bar.  Once inside, I was greeted by the usual gang of kinksters, and Friday Night hilarity ensued.  As mentioned in this blog, I love Touche on weekends.  It's the one time a week where I can hang with the guys in the same way a straight man lives for bowling nights.  I know all of the regulars, and many are greeted like "Norm" from Cheers.  I'm reminded of the sitcom's famous theme song:

​🎶Where everybody knows your Recon screen naaaaaame...!"🎶

Some time ago, I met a 50-year-old Chicago pup named "Nibbles;" he approached me in the clubroom, and he complimented my gear.  He appreciated the fact that I take BDSM so seriously, and as we were both near the same age, we started talking about our "era."  "These young guys today," Nibbles said sadly, "They just don't appreciate the sacrifices that were made by the Boomers or Gen X'rs."  He went on to describe the famous gay men of the past who'd paved the way for the lives Gen Z'rs live today:  *Harvy Milk.  *Paul Lynne.  *Liberace.  *Truman Capote.  *Freddie Mercury.  These days even The Village People seem all but forgotten, though their music still remains on WLS's weekend playlist.  I bought him a drink and gave him a hug, then watched as he scampered away like Tigger.  I then found a spot in John's section, and chatted with him in between customers as the club quickly filled with people.

The night went on and the patrons came & went.  I thought about Nibbles, and the melancholy behind his words. At midnight, in the club, within the red & white lights, Touche takes on a magical feel - an oasis of Old Guard Leather, open nonstop since 1977.  I was still drinking the first time I hit Touche in the 90s, but I do remember how it felt the same as today - a home away from home, so to speak.  Back in the day, when I lived in Joliet, I used to start the night early, and hit The Hideaway & Nutbush off Roosevelt, before solidifying a buzz and driving drunk to the leather bars, deeper in Chicago.  I was young & stupid back then.  I was *literally* hungry like the wolf as I threw up everything I ate but the booze.  It would be decades before I'd realized that I had multiple personalities, and though most of that eras memories are forgotten of course, I do still have three budging scrapbooks with bar advertisements, logo'd matchbooks & cigarette lighters, and scraps of paper with long-forgotten phone numbers.  Back then, I had a leather jacket with fringe, and the same Sketchers boots that Joey wore on Friends.  When considering my 1990s-hair - a bulletproof swoosh of highlights & hairspray - I looked absolutely ridiculous.  But I do remember listening to WLS on the drive, when Duran Duran was still new.  I also recall hitting Escapades hours later as the sun was coming up, the last-chance of the last-chance bars, a shithole with a 5am liquor license, just off the 55 on the way home to Joliet.

​Those were dark times ...
Picture"In touch with the ground, I'm in the hunt, I'm after you..."
Speaking of dark times, I was thinking of Virginia Woolf this morning, as I read my latest rejection letter from one of my queries for When People Go Away.  The letter was the usual Thank-you-for-your-submission-but responses, and I wasn't disappointed at all as the letter came within 24hours of my initial query - which meant that it had been read.  I've written about the querying process in previous blogs, and how hard it is to get an Agent's attention.  I'm constantly trying new query-styles, and I'd decided last week to attempt something completely different: rather than personalizing my query to a specific agent, I've taken to discussing the Literary World as a whole. Virginia Woolf was revolutionary for her day, and she's known as a modernist writer, who debuted a stream-of-consciousness style - as new as Capote's "Nonfiction Novel" style.  When People Go Away debuts The Quantum Fiction Genre, a completely new way of telling a story, with a plot structure shaped like a Dragon Fractal.  

Woolf was known for her Feminist themes, which perfectly coincided with what was happening in the world at the time.  During the 1920s, women had achieved the right to vote, and their suffrage mirrored the changing roles of females as a whole: women were no longer stay-at-home housewives...they had finally *started* to be taken seriously in professional capacities, like science, religion, business, and academia.  Woolf was a trumpet of the feminist movement, and her novels pushed boundaries for others in her era, especially during the World Wars.  Her popularity faded after WWII sadly, but her work enjoyed a reemergence in the 1970s, long after her death.  And that's the *mark* of a good writer: a body of work that perfectly captures an era.

But it's her stream-of-consciousness style that will always be her trademark, in the same way that Capote brazenly built his stories & characters around real-life people.  I've been thinking about both Woolf & Capote while marketing When People Go Away, not so much in their narrative style, but how both writers were perfectly in-tune with their own, individual places in history.

With that in mind, here's a sample of how I've been personalizing my queries: 

On a personal note Mr. Agent, in addition to a lifelong reader, I was a Barnes & Noble ASM for 18 years.  I am intimately familiar with bookselling from a reader’s, writer’s, and retailer’s perspective, and I have boots-on-the-ground knowledge of customer tastes, sales trends, and the changing landscape of the literary world as a whole.  The last truly original novel I read was Andrew Davidson’s brilliant 2008 work, The Gargoyle – which I wrote a brief review of within my December blog.  The Gargoyle was staggering, but its timing was off; had the publisher “sat on it” for 5-8 years, the novel would have been a bestseller – and ushered in a new way of telling a story.
 
It seems like every agent I query is looking for “a new take on this,” or a “different spin on that.”  Everyone wants the familiar; most agents seek the time-proven, and seem hesitant to read something new.  But the world has changed, Mr. Agent…it’s hard for a novel to keep our attention when we’re texting on smartphones, listening to iTunes, and meeting people through social-apps.  Quite frankly, we’ve gotten lazy – and we’ve completely forgotten the joy of “escaping” into a writer’s world, like Caleb Carr’s vivid emersion in The Alienist's 1890s Manhattan, Michael Crichton’s cinematic prose – or the simple joy of Fiver’s cozy warren in Richard Adam’s Watership Down.  
 
When People Go Away capitalizes on technology, and encourages readers to keep their iPhones close when reading the novel.  The reader is told to play musician’s YouTube videos when the story references atmospheric songs, which are woven through the text within crucial scenes.  I intentionally reference specific singers, artists, writers, and directors – knowing the mention is just a Google search away.  My prose is precise with not a word out of place, and there is a difference between “red” and “crimson.”  When People Go Away is deceptively easy to read, with a new narrative style that’s designed to challenge the reader, with five increasingly-bigger payoffs that will leave you in not tears, but sobs, once you complete the Epilogue.  I have included one of these big reveals at the end of this message.
Picture"Smell like I sound, I'm lost in the crowd, and I'm hungry like the wolf..."
I actually came up with this idea from watching the guys at Touche (myself included) using their phones in the bar, checking social apps while talking to dudes in person.  I chuckled to myself on realizing this: "Maybe if I strike out in the clubroom, I can still snag a Recon hookup on my way back home tonight."  I suppose I'm just like everyone when it comes to multitasking, and in the modern world - which has changed completely from the 90s with my Grandmother - even a soon-to-be-55-year-old Leather Dude needs to use all options available.  Sure, I feel like a dirtbag sometimes, but at least I'm an efficient one.  I mean, even WLS plays the same songs again & again, and after five hours in the club, it's not uncommon to hear 🎶Hungry Like the Wolf🎶a second time, as I head back home at four in the morning, changing the radio station to find a different song.  

Of course, the bittersweet irony is that things in the club really haven't changed at all since I first started hitting leather bars, back in the late 1990s.  As a Gen X'r, I came of age during the heyday of HIV, and it seems like the era of untreatable AIDS has been all but forgotten as I watch the fabled 2am rush, where drunken Gen Z's stumble into the clubroom, looking for companionship because their Grindr trick ghosted them. Everyone's on "Prep" these days, and they think that because they're protected from HIV, they've gained invincibility.  Sure, drugs like Truvada reduce viral loads to "undetectable."  My intention is not to shame people of course, but rather to reduce unnecessary suffering - and to keep history from repeating itself.  The gay men of today have forgotten the heartbreak of the men who came before them, the gays approaching 60 like me, the men who lost the people we  l o v e d.  Not a Saturday goes by when I'm not haunted by these memories, and I'd give anything to be the man I am today, but to be back in the time when that fact mattered most.

When People Go Away approaches the topic this way:

          “Stay away from the back room,” Frankie reminded him.  “The way the young guys get fucked along the wall is like watching animals in heat.”
            “I’m on Prep, Sir.”
            “What’s that supposed to mean?”
            “It’s Prep,” Jordan repeated.  “It keeps me safe from catching anything.”
            “You mean, catching HIV?” Frankie clarified.
            “Yes, Sir.”
            “You do realize that HIV is AIDS?” Frankie told him, setting down his pen.
            “But Prep makes it undetectable,” Jordan said.
      “But it’s still AIDS.” Frankie reminded him.  “Just because it’s undetectable doesn’t mean it isn’t deadly.  Fuck, your generation pisses me off sometimes!  Guys your age have completely forgotten what gay life was like for Gen X’rs, back when HIV was a death sentence.  HIV was completely untreatable from the 80s through the mid 1990s. AZT was garbage. Its side effects were chilling.  I mean, the cocktail didn’t even hit the market until late 96’, and until that happened, if you got infected with the virus, you had anywhere from six to twelve months to live!”
            *Silence.
            “I think Prep is disgusting,” Frankie said bitterly, triggering a momentary coughing fit.
            *Silence.
            “I’m sorry, Sir,” Jordan backtracked.  “I never thought of it that way.”
            *Silence.
            Frankie inhaled, then let out a long, slow sigh.  
            *Silence.
            He coughed into his fist again. 
          *Silence.
            His demeanor softened.
          *Silence…
            “That’s fine,” Frankie continued, changing the subject.  “I trust you, Jordan.  Besides, you deserve a night off.  What time does it start?” 
Picture"Burning the ground, I break from the crowd..."
The Meaning of Life becomes clearer as you get older, and like it or not, only the strong survive.  It's the law of nature, I'm afraid.  The hard times are just as necessary as the good, and the secret to survival is learning from the past, so unnecessary mistakes are never made again.  But it's the strongest of the strong who know that even mistakes are needed, in order to gain the wisdom needed to reach one's full potential.  Within the leather community, the Wise Old Daddy Bears are the men with the combined knowledge of the past, present, and future.  And it's the *future* that holds the best possibilities - and the pride of a pride that proudly reveres its elders, as we are the men who understand the true meaning of life, and the importance of loving everyone who surrounds us.  I think of this concept each and every day, from the mornings I wake up with cookie-crumbs in my bed to the afternoons when I sigh audibly when another query is rejected.  There is something to be said about tough times making us stronger, but that's not actually the way I've been looking at my life.

You see, despite my harsh history, I'd never have reached the serenity I have today had things not gone exactly the way they did for my era - and When People Go Away would never have been written.  

True joy is found in reaching one's potential, and I can already feel my own.

And when that day comes, I know that I'll be ready ...

​I am hungry, like the 🎶 W o o l f 🎶.

- Sir Dave
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Saturday Night Fever Dream

1/22/2024

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PictureA very disturbing story, intentionally disguised as something beautiful.
I had no idea how dark a film Saturday Night Fever really was until showing it to Dane last weekend.  The movie is a very disturbing story that, like When People Go Away, is intentionally disguised as something beautiful: the drab, colorless world of Catholicism set against the brilliance of shimmering disco lights.  The plot is ugly.  The film is a masterpiece of visual metaphor.  Every single shot is *perfect,* with each and every visible item placed there for a specific reason.  I was a kid in 1977, and Mother forbid R-rated films, so I didn't see it in theaters.  I do recall how popular it was, a generation-defining period-piece, one of several blockbusters that year: Star Wars, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and the lesser-known Looking for Mister Goodbar (where a young Richard Gere does pushups in a jockstrap - WOOF!).  The movie perfectly captures the bondage of the Catholic family unit, the deeply-entrenched guilt & shame that's inflicted on a child in from infancy, like Pyongyang-propaganda, or cradle-to-grave Liberal entitlements.  The picture was filmed before our current political correctness, so the dialogue is often *shocking* by today's standards, the racial slurs in particular.  But that's how people really talked in those days, especially within inner-city New York. The ethnic neighborhoods were just as culturally segregated as when Caleb Carr described them in his novel The Alienist. Their world was harsh, repetitive, repressive, and unaccepting of ideas that rocked the status-quo.  Their circumstances offered little chance of hope. While Vinnie Barbarino was struttin' to The Fifth of Beethoven, on the other side of the river, Capote was doing lines with Halston at Studio 54.  And while that was happening, Carter, though well-meaning, wasted network prime-time to tell all of us to tighten our belts like a straightjacket. Considering that Cadillac had to hack off the asses of its just-in-time-for-the-gas-crisis 77' Coupe DeVilles, it's no wonder that Reagan won in a landslide. 

It was fun to discuss the film with Dane as the two of us watched together.  Dane's a closet-philosopher, so we focused on Fever's *exquisite* use of symbolism, as the 2001 Odyssey's cloistered oasis of happiness played out against Bobby C literally CRYING for Tony's help.  *Annette waiting outside the dancing studio for Tony w/condoms. *Robert Costanzo's hourly hardware store employees with 20 years tenure. *Tony Marino's iconic white suit, paired with an ugly facial scar, covered by a cheap bandage.  *The hideous way that women were treated, and the fact it was expected.  *Rape.  *Abortion.  *Intolerance.  *...Lonliness.  The nuances are magnificent.  As a man who experiences the world through visual metaphor, the film's use of light was genuinely emotional to me, as The Bee Gees sang in harmony, against violent yellows, searing reds, and Electric Light Orchestra oranges.  Gulp.  The last time I'd seen the film, I thought Stephanie was "showing off" by talking about art, music, and Laurence Olivier - but I'd been totally wrong.  Steph was actually trying to help Tony, trying to show him an escape, quietly attempting to escape her own fear by endeavoring to connect with someone who was exactly like...herself.  (Standing to CLAP.) And then when you layer Tony's family dynamic, Jesus Christ!  Watching Tony shout F-bombs in his Father's face (while his Mother prayed across the table) almost gave me, not chills, but h i v e s.  I remember those conversations.  My parents fighting across the kitchen table, while I fought back tears and my sister suffered in silence.  Catholic guilt is disgusting.  It took me 53 years to shed my own, and begin the life I've always wanted. The film, like When People Go Away, cuts to the soul by showing the tragedy of "lost potential," and, as we enter the Age of Aquarius, *lost potential* is the first issue we must address.
PictureChuckling. Tony hits all my checkmarks: young, thin, black leather jacket, high-heeled boots...
It's eerie how much Saturday Night Fever mirrors what's happening in society, today.  In addition to my usual raunch, I've also been sharing my experiences querying agents, and promoting my debut of a new Fiction Genre - and a totally new way of telling a story.  I know many of those who follow this blog locally do so to see who's-dick-was-in-who's-ass in Touche's clubroom (Chuckling - and to see if I give them a shout-out them when describing Touche), but for those of you who actually read novels for intellectual pleasure, you know how BIG the invention of a new Genre is.  (HINT: It's Fucking Staggering!!!)  I'm mentioning this because it pairs nicely with Fever's theme of brazen intolerance, because even as a gay man with a crippling disability, I've found myself intentionally ostracised by people I once thought were my friends.  Years ago - in the 17 years when I was a Barnes & Noble ASM - I was a top contributor to the unauthorized Facebook forum for B&N Booksellers.  My posts were much like these blogs, shorter of course, as funny as my Twitter/X & Facebook feeds, and without all the mentions of clubroom debauchery.  I recently rejoined the forum, and crafted a formal announcement of my literary accomplishment.  As the group has over 10k members, I test-drove the post in a much smaller LGBTQ BN Bookseller group, to see how the formatting would look in public, and I was able to tweak the sentence placement, before posting it where it mattered.  That's actually how When People Go Away got started a year ago, as a post in numerous BDSM-themed rooms, with "Where are you, boy?" - the very first entry in Sir Dave's Blog.  All of those posts generated comments & likes, but the post that delivered almost 200 friend requests was the one that launched the book.

​As I rapidly expand my social media presence (I'm joining Trump's "Truth Social" this week btw; I want to sent WPGA to Styxhexenhammer666), I've been testing the waters in new places.  But the unofficial BN group is the "big one," as it contains ten-thousand people who will know exactly how groundbreaking what I've done really is.  Within the literary world, creating a new Genre is as big a cure for cancer.  Add a new narrative style on top of that, and you've cured the common cold - as well as solved the Middle East crisis, taken Kim's nukes away, and finally gotten the White House to admit that the cocaine found in Hunter's skivvies was meant for Biden's morning *Ensure,* in hopes he might stay awake for his next public appearance. But in just a six-hour period, not only was my post removed from the tiny forum, I'd learned I'd been permanently banned from the national Bookseller page.  I stared at my computer with my mouth on the floor.  A few minutes passed before the youngest of my alters - the most damaged one of all - tearfully asked:

"What just happened, Sir?"

Truth be told, this really wasn't a surprise.  The Barnes and Noble Unauthorized Bookseller Breakroom Facebook page is known for its unabashedly-intolerant Moderators.  They claim not to be biased of course, but what they mean by "unbiased" is the same unbias as CNN allowing Nancy Pelosi a solid 90 seconds (in a 3-minute prime time segment) to seethingly fat-shame Donald Trump on Cooper's show, a few years back.  I actually got in trouble on the BN page, on the day following Trump's 2016 election.  When I'd visited the forum that morning, I found it filled with scathing anti-Trump posts, clearly violating the room's rules on political debate.  The posts were heinous.  One Trans Woman even had the audacity to change her profile photo to all-black, because of the horror, the horror, the horror, of now having to live under a Republican administration, as Trump was no doubt going to stop gay marriage, lock all us leathermen into our basement dungeons, and hold down all the tranny's to sew their penises back on (which would be impossible of course, because their old dicks would be medical waste).  I watched the room for hours.  It was an anti-Trump free-for-all. About 1pm, I'd finally had enough, and wrote a very tender post trying to calm everyone down.  But my post was removed immediately, and one of the MODs actually BLOCKED me, personally.  I was literally the lone voice of reason, yet even as a gay man with a crippling cognitive disability, I was (ahem) "spanked."  I encourage you to read the blogs I posted during this period (they're in "Dave's Blog Archive" in my toolbar above), as I make the case proving the Democrat's hypocrisy - and how dangerous that really is for us in the LGBTQ community. I mean, yeah, sure, of course it's nice when your party's in power, but as history has proven, the pendulum will swing back.  And when you suddenly find yourself on the other side of a coordinated media attack, you'll find yourself in h i v e s, and holding a knife to your wrists because intolerance brought you to suicide, as it recently did to me a few months back ...
Picture"If you EVER make tripe like this again...!"
Going back to the themes within Saturday Night Fever, "repression" was another big one.  The film just oozes human bondage, in a way that feels almost...*sticky*.  Tony's clearly a talented dancer.  He belongs on a stage, not a hardware store. Yet, despite his obvious gift for dancing, he is given no encouragement whatsoever to pursue his dreams, to live a life that will make him happy, to finally achieve his full potential. But his family will have none of it.  Tony's unemployed Father is furious he didn't contribute to the family food budget, after getting a meager raise at his dead-end job.  I was reminded of myself in a way, on the last day of 7th Grade back in 83', when I handed my mother a failing report card - and a year's worth of gifted hand-drawn cartoons, that I'd drawn all year during lunch hours, as I had no friends because I was gay.  I was devastatingly lonely. Rather than seeing my obvious Bobby C cry for HELP, Mother floored the accelerator on our slant-back SeVille, and forced me to make phone calls for summer school once we got home. She berated me the entire drive.  I don't remember what happened when Father got home himself hours later, but again I have cognitive issues from an untreated childhood concussion in 1973.  But it's the shame that I remember most (well, that - and the beautiful car), and it's a shame I carried for over forty years.  I'm a gifted cartoonist.  I'm a gifted writer.  I also suspect I might be a gifted film director, with how *searingly* visual I wrote When People Go Away to be.  My parents gave me no encouragement whatsoever.  They never sat me down to plan college or retirement.  When I started coming home drunk in my early twenties, they never pulled me aside to warn of my family's dangerous predisposition for alcoholism, on both sides, killing both of my grandfathers with cirrhosis.  Though well-meaning, Father's attempt at "the sex talk" with me was embarrassing.  Chuckling.  Back in 75', I remember putting on a puppet show for my parents at home one afternoon.  (NO, Touche friends - it's not the same puppet show!🤣)  It was a simple play, really.  Two little puppets went walking through a forest and got caught in a giant spider's web.  (I forget - what's the definition of "Foreshadowing," again?)  Their reaction was tepid.  The play was immediately forgotten.  A decade later, when I wrote my first screenplay, my Mother read the manuscript while I was at school, and was furious when I came home: "WHY DID YOU WRITE ABOUT ME!?"  The basic gist of my typewritten story was that an overprotective Mother caught her son kissing another man, and she reacted so badly, he *split* into two different people.  (Again, what was that "Foreshadowing" definition...?). The foreshadowing in this case however, was Mother's reaction to my first two novels: "Was the book about meeeeeeeee...?"  It wasn't until after completing WPGA that I realized the theme of my first book Goodbye to Beekman Place - "Shh - No Talking!" - was an obvious metaphor for child molestation.  Ahem.  Like the Barnes & Noble Facebook page, there's one particular "woman" that I've always wanted to say this to: "Bitch, please!  And I mean that in both definitions of the word."  But she'd never get it, though. Mother actually still thinks that GTBP is dedicated to her and my late Father.  But then, she hasn't read the novel's dedication very...carefully.  

Moving on ...
Picture"Careful with that Benson & Hedges, Darling."
In addition to Saturday Night Fever, I also showed Dane his first episode of Absolutely Fabulous.  As he's a young man of 30, he'd never even heard of the show - HOW IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE?  I chose the "Birthin'" episode from Season Five to introduce him to the series, then followed with the series finale - where Patsy lights a cigarette with the 2012 Olympics torch. It was fun to observe his reaction.  And it was fun for me to rewatch a few episodes, as the writing in the last two seasons was really tight & concise.  I love how shocking British humor can be when compared to American shows, and the episodes we saw saw were chalk-full of delicious daggers, as Patz' n' Eddie (What are French & Lumley now - in their 80s or 90s?) verbally assaulted everyone around them, with a total disregard for anything even close to political correctness.  I loved when Patsy sneezed and shat herself.  I almost masturbated when Eddie's described her vagina as "flapping saloon doors." (Standing to CLAP again.) I haven't seen the original seasons for a few years, and though they were biting, I don't recall them being so caustic.  But what saddened me a little was that I'd assumed all gay men of Dane's age knew the show.  I mean, everyone knows the Village People.  Everyone seems to know who Liberace was.  Two years ago, a pup in his fifties pulled me aside after Touche's New Year's Party.  He complimented my leather, and thanked me for my "presence" - a term used to describe Masters & Sirs who take the lifestyle seriously.  He then went on to share how sad he was that the current generation of leathermen ("The New Guard") have no idea the sacrifices that were made by men like me, who went through the intolerant 1970s, and later, the AIDS epidemic. It was a melancholy way to end the evening, but I actually didn't mind, as I like to *reflect.*

After dumping the sad pup's body in the dumpster behind the bar (kidding), I took the freeway home and settled in for the 40-minute drive.  As usual, I was listening to WLS in my truck, and the refrain of The Thompson Twin's 🎶Lay Your Hands on Me🎶 filled my pickup's dark cabin, the ballad's haunting chorus making eddies within the dashboard's glow.  I settled back in my gear, placed a gloved hand on the steering wheel, and tugged down the brim of my Muir.  It's true what they say about one's perception changing as one gets older, and that's definitely been the case for me ...

I don't know if it's a quirk of multiple personalities, or a growing awareness of the greater cosmic consciousness, as humanity evolves into what we are meant to become.  The universe is built on love, and an Intelligent Design that we're only just beginning to comprehend.  But we'll never truly experience the joy of our Almighty's Divine Creation if we keep fearing new ideas, and making assumptions that we shouldn't.  Unless we learn to accept something as simple as an R on another voter's card, we'll never reach our species' potential - and reach the moment that Tony Marino did, when he crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, without looking back. 

I dream of the day when we can all just be the people we're destined to be ...

I just hope I'm not having a Fever Dream.✨

- Sir Dave
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Lovely Little Leathermen

1/15/2024

2 Comments

 
Picture"Staggeringly lonely..."
BIBLICAL was the word that came to mind, as I entered the Touche clubroom in the weekend's wee hours, I think about five or six months ago.  A drunk had passed out cold on the floor. His shirtless body was SPLAYED across the concrete, and everyone - myself included - just stepped over him.  It wasn't unexpected.  The Touche clubroom at two in the morning can be ...unsettling.  I frequently describe the back bar within these posts, and for the most part, despite being a debaucherous free-for-all where cum flies through the air like silly string, the bar's Club Room is a rollick'ing good time, especially when I'm hunting.  Of course, as I drive in from Aurora every weekend, it's hard to manipulate - err, I mean convince - some Lovely Little Leatherman that it's worth the 60-minute journey back to my house.  That's especially true when the dude's clearly *shitfaced,* and I kinda' feel guilty asking him to follow me 40 miles home, particularly as I have two DUI's myself.  But, alas, one must follow one's erection - err, I mean one's heart - and Siri's navigation can easily guide the intoxicated, so long as the radio - playing Top Gun Maverick's "Danger Zone" - is kept at a reasonable volume.  That being said, I'd still feel guilty if, while he attempted to steer like Paul Pelosi, I noticed the guy's car in my rear-view mirror, exploding like the Hindenburg.  I mean *sheesh,* you know?  I probably should have offered him a ride myself. Again, I have a big truck, and when I reeeeally think about it, there was more than enough room for this guy within my pickup's bed.

Back in November 2022, I befriended a gentleman I'd first met on Recon in 2015, a Lovely Little Leatherman who's known on the East Coast.  He was a few years younger than me, but as I'm almost 55 myself, that's really not saying much.  The dude had hit me up off & on over the years, but I'd dismissed him.  He caught my attention on Thanksgiving day with my Mother, with a message w/photographs that made me take notice: All right, you have my attention. You've obviously read my Recon profile - what do you want from me?  We totally hit it off at first, so much that my younger persona visited him in New York for a week, in time for his holiday open house. (Check out my Facebook feed.) The guy's adept at social media, so I observed him intently; he taught me much of how I currently manage my own online presence, and I learned lots of neat skills, like how to properly use iPhoto's time-delay, and taking screenshots and inserting them into posts & chats, as I've been doing recently.  I actually started writing When People Go Away at this dude's kitchen table, including Chapter Three's opening scene - which began as a text I had sent during his AA home meeting:

"I must really like this guy because I just sat through his fuckin’ AA Home Group meeting – which reminds me of why I HATE AA.  Everybody mumbles, everybody “regrets” their drinking, and everybody says the same goddamn thing – over & over – never even realizing that by talking about their past, they’re still trapped inside it.  Most importantly, NOBODY knows how to tell a fuckin’ story …"
PictureLike 1970s home decor, my abdomen fluid was a striking greenish-yellow.
Before my trip, the two of us had bonded over crazy stories about our drinking & ex's.  I had described my ascites, the chilling cirrhosis side effect where your liver stops telling your kidneys to remove water, and the only way to fix it - before your lungs stop working - is for the ER physician to pierce your stomach's side with needles, and hope that the numbing agent kicks in fast - before you start screaming.  A catheter is then inserted, and the flat-tipped needle snakes its way through your abdomen, as the shift's on-duty doctor carefully watches a sonogram screen.  As soon as contact is made with "the fluid pocket," the 20/30 minute drainage process begins, and my record for having seaweed-colored discharge sucked out of my belly is almost eleven liters.  The peritoneocentesis procedure can be done as many times as needed, and for a period of three months, I had one every week - as I watched myself morph into a skeleton ...
Picture"However will I occupy my time, little snowflake...?"
Speaking of skeletons, Dane, my boy-who-doesn't-yet-realize-he's-a-boy, reminded me of "Jack Skellington" last Friday morning as I watched him shovel the heavy falling snow, while I fought to start my snowblower.  It was early afternoon by that point.  I had let him sleep in when I got up at 6:30am, to put a roast in the crockpot and work on my social media.  I was pleased I'd procrastinated taking down the Christmas tree & porch lights, as the holiday decorations still glowed warmly in the windows; the lights on my covered wraparound porch - blurred by the winter weather - shimmered red, purple, orange, blue & yellow...and vivid Electroluminescent green.  Dane was a trooper.  I watched him merrily hack away at a snowdrift near the porch steps, while I went at the sidewalk with my loud, 2-cycle, 20-year-old snowblower - which is basically Stephen King's The Mangler, killing snow instead of people.  We worked for 45 minutes.  It was a futile task, really.  The Perfect Storm was set to continue well into the evening, and all we had actually accomplished was to "get a head start" on the shoveling for later that day.  However will I occupy my time until then?, I thought, as Dane trudged into the mudroom, and peeled off his wet clothing.  Chuckling.  I try *not* to be a lecherous dirtbag of course, but the dude often doesn't give me a chance.  The previous evening, as this Lovely Little Leatherman had again fallen asleep on my chest while I watched The Whale, I couldn't help but think about how much fun my life has been lately.  It's amazing the joy that realizing one's potential can bring, as my Father did when he was in his fifties, opening a sole-proprietorship soft drink distribution company, which had always been his dream.  Well, that...and he wanted to get the fuck away from my Mother, during the day.

Going back to The Whale - damn, that film was good!  The movie is RAW, on the scale of When People Go Away, and its opening scenes - which include a morbidly-obese Brendan Fraser struggling to masturbate to gay porn, triggering a cardiac event - are no less than horrifying.  The film's portrayal of broken family dynamics mirrors my own family's refusal to discuss anything deemed unpleasant.  Watching Charlie deliberately eat himself to death mirrored my own attempt to drink myself to death.  A few years back, one of my aunts passed away, after a battle with cancer.  This woman was the family Matriarch.  She was the epitome of Catholicism's most Catholic of housewives, marrying her high school sweetheart, carrying the cross of a stay-at-home holy-mother, and wearing the same damn Simplicity pleated skirt for twenty-seven Thanksgivings in a row. Her turkey was dry. Her family was cheap.  Her husband, my uncle - a bald, pointy-nosed, church go'n curmudgeon - had somehow raised a family of five on a coach's meager salary.  I hate these people.  They claim I'm going to hell because I'm gay. Ironically though, I've already been to hell, and I don't mean the whole depression/cirrhosis thing. I experienced true hell on the day of my late aunt's funeral, when, after a loooooong funeral service & a loooooong funeral procession to the family mausoleum (where, speaking of skeletons again, we actually had to wait for the fucking Crest Hill coroner to place my aunt's just-exhumed-first-stillborn into her cold, dead arms so she could cradle the corpse for eternity), we ended up at some god-awful Italian restaurant, where the family of the deceased had found the best price for lunch. 
​Before I continue, please think of the crowd-participation show, Tony & Tina's Wedding:
Picture"So, after her body went septic..."
*The banquet room had once been elegant in the 80s, but time had not been kind to its walls' yellowing gold-veined tiles, purchased dime-on-the-dollar on the last day of Handy Andy's 96' Going Out of Business Sale.  Polished-brass chandeliers hung from the ceiling like lynching victims, and the mauve & grey linoleum twinkled with the shine of a nice, fresh coat of Fabuloso.  The sound of work-release cooks could be heard from the kitchen, as the servers used their Zippos to light sternos beneath the chafing dishes. A few moments passed before the squeaky kitchen door swung open, and the disheveled assistant manager helped the staff wheel out the frugal buffet's menu on carts: Baked chicken, mostaccioli, sausage & peppers, institutional canned corn, a cracked plastic bowl with Zesta saltines, & salad with our choice of Ranch or Thousand Island dressing.  As our day had started at 5am, everyone was starving; the room was packed with almost sixty people, and two banquet waitresses who smelled like cigarettes.  As the family brought their grub back to stackable tables, I ended up sitting next to William - our namesake's second black sheep. William is a dude who kinda' peaked in high school, not exactly a Lovely Little Leatherman of course, but I'd still show him Touche if he asked, cuz' he's really cool.  As my now-widowed uncle wanted to say a few words before supper, we all set our plates aside and listened to him attentively. 

*And then, it began ...

"I want to thank you all for coming today.  It's good to be surrounded by the family that I love.  I'm sure you've all been following MaryBeth's cancer plight in our weekly newsletters - that woman sure loved to write, God rest her soul - and as you all know, her body just couldn't handle all the chemotherapy treatments, which caused it to turn septic.  The oncologist told me - not Aeliyah anymore of course, but that nice black woman - that's probably why she was throwing up so much, as she prepared our Thanksgiving meal."

*Silence.  

​"I don't know how much you may know about the human digestive system, but MaryBeth's gastroenterologist - you know the one, that friendly Pakistani fella' - explained that with her 'particular' type of cancer, it started in her bowels above the anus, near that fiber mass that you all know about of course, to the left of where her uterus used to be. Apparently, her large intestine had actually started to ROT, and the infection it caused didn't react well with the impacted feces that was already causing her pelvic area to leak."
*Stunned silence ...
Uncle Tim then went on to describe, with details so disgusting even Quincy would puke, how cancer had worked in yin & yang-tandem with her poop-chute's decomposition process - as we were all trying to eat.  In addition to disturbingly-specific medical terminology, our Patriarch peppered his address with inspiring Catholic anecdotes: Every time a funeral bell rings, an angel gets his wings.  By some *literal* Act of God, one of his sons intervened, and took him aside to the cash bar for a nice glass of wine.  My foodservice-grade pasta sauce, like the contents of Aunt MaryBeth's lower chest cavity, had coagulated in the meantime ... *
PictureFor a quick, hearty chuckle while taking your morning dump, might I suggest my Twitter feed?
BIBLICAL was the word that came to mind two nights ago, as I entered the Touche clubroom in the cold wee hours, stepping over the drunk who was still there many months later.  I've come to realize that I don't experience time the same way as most, and certain memories get "trapped" within my brain, as real as if they'd happened yesterday.  I don't yet know if it's a *quirk* of multiple personalities, or if it's something more significant - an awareness of our current paradigm shift, perhaps.  As I've written for eleven years on this site, humanity is on the cusp of exploring the heavens - which means that we have to get our heads out of our asses, and finally look UP at all those stars in the sky.  We're not alone, people.  We've never been alone, to be frank.  And if we keep living our lives like we're the only fuckin' people in the universe, our preoccupation with political correctness will hinder our species from the Transcendence occuring right here, right now...right at this very second. Pay attention to people like Dr. Steven Greer of The Disclosure Project, and theoretical physicist Michio Kaku.  They estimate that we're 80 years behind technologically, and a good solid century in regards to spirituality.

I was actually going to kill myself two weeks ago, after Touche's New Years Eve party.  The plan was simple: I'd get to the bar around 10pm, make my rounds, have a few laughs, ring in the new year...then quietly slip away after that, like Diana at the end of the musical.  But I made a decision not to succumb to depression, and I sent my Lovely Little Leatherman on a mission - which ultimately gave me hope.  It's easy to make excuses to justify life's difficulties, but even a "difficult" life is still...a life.  That being said, as I charge forward with my books, I'll continue to share the journey with - strictly for your amusement of course - the most inappropriate humor as possible. I'm tempted to tease upcoming topics, but I always seem to do the best work "on the fly," so to speak: 

"Reading the reviews of Diana: The Musical is like watching YouTube reaction videos to Two Girls, One Cup.  I mean, Jesus fucking Christ! WHO thought this was a good idea?  Watching Princess Diana merrily sing to AIDS patients was exactly like watching The Book of Mormon's 'Hasa Diga Eebowai.'  And by that I mean, the number was so offensive, I actually had to *gather* myself when it was over!"

Not only am I realizing I'm apparently an intellect, I'm starting to suspect that I *might* be a diabolical one. 
​
- Sir Dave
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Risky Business Ventures

1/9/2024

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PictureFrom Pintrist: KILMER: "I don't like you because you're dangerous." CRUISE: "Are you as turned on as I am?"
DESPITE BEING A FILM BUFF, I rarely go to movies anymore.  I mean, the last time I visited Aurora's Tinseltown theater, I actually had to call the manager to the concession counter because I thought that he *might* be concerned by the thick, venous, fuzzy, tarry, spider-like mold that was sloooooowly wrapping around his Coke machine like sleep-sack restraints, in clear view of his customers.  (He wasn't.)  I suppose that from his point of view, the place was dark anyway.  There had been clearly no effort made to change all the ceilings' dead light bulbs for the last several years, and judging from the carpet - a panorama of 1990s teal, magenta, & mildew - the whole place emanated a sort'a dank, funky, dingy/dreary-darkness that one might find in an adult bookstore arcade, on a suburban lunch hour.  Consequently, unless something really *cool* comes out (like Bohemian Rhapsody, Last Night in Soho, or a new Bond film - see the end of this segment), I typically steer clear of big Hollywood blockbusters, especially of the rah-rah-family-friendly-variety, as I...despise...children. 

That being said, I finally called uncle and watched Top Gun Maverick.  

Okay.  First off, for it's target audience, the film was pretty slick.  They did an excellent job rallying the troops, and I could tell immediately that big bucks had been spent on talent, production, Tom Cruise's press secretary, and 1980s power ballads.  I'm glad they got "Danger Zone" out of the way quickly, though I am surprised they couldn't work in "Blaze of Glory" somehow, as the Scientologists assured us that we have enough thetons in our budget - or, at least since we gave them a different credit card.  The movie was filled with cliches, and I smiled when Maverick literally threw the rulebook into the trash - CLATTER!  The sweeping crane shots.  The rousing bar scenes.  That dude on the piano, pounding keys like Al Jolson's The Jazz Singer, singing "The Power of Love" or "Love Stinks" or "Love the One You're With, 80s mix" or something.  Oh yes, the *stirring* patriotism - and a mission that the flyboys might not come back from.  I especially liked "Bob," the doey-eyed everyman, particularly as his character included Jeffrey Dahmer's aviator glasses.  The daughter was cool, too; she had a sorta' after-this-movie-is-over-can-we-please-just-stop-all-this-Gen-X-reminiscing-bullshit attitude about her. Kids rock when they mock the Kid Rock generation, and keep in mind that young-adult "kids" aren't the same as "children." I'm starting to *get* teenagers, even when they're angst-y.  And angst is what this movie oozed, as this entertaining third-act gasp from Joel Goodson's era - most notably with that cute closing shot of Maverick's PF1 Mustang flying off into the sunset - foreshadowed the encroaching twilight on Cruise's impressive career.  I hope he keeps making movies of course, as his Hollywood cred now allows him to take chances, should he choose.  I'd really like to see a project with Cruise, Keanu, Keefer, Kevin Bacon - and maybe Julia Roberts.  I want them to do a season of American Horror Story or something.  Or, maybe a remake of 1978's The Betsy.

On a completely unrelated topic, I think with as much as John Hamm has grown as an actor, he might be a potential 007 - if he can pull off the accent.  With his performance as Roy Tilmen in this season's Fargo - coupled with his outstanding work in Top Gun Maverick - this guy is someone to watch.
Picture"...his calavera face..."
Moving on to other matters, the snow spun in eddies outside my living room window last night. The room was lit softly, with my collection of Tiffany-style lighting intermixing with flickering battery-powered candles, and I still have my Christmas tree up - as I wanted the experience of colorful holiday lights within my home, when the first real winter storm finally came in January.  As usual, my Bose Wave Radio was set on WLS, low volume.  The haunting melody of Eric Carmen's "Make Me Lose Control" echoed quietly in the darkness, and the TV - muted - was showing one of my favorite Remington Steeles.  (That's my current background "default" btw, once I'm familiar with the daily FoxNews story cycle.)  I had closed my eyes for a few moments, lost in my head as I planned tomorrow's query letters.  I then felt Dane carefully climbing on top of me, his movements, like a contortionist, were both cautious & strategic, as he gently lowered himself onto my torso. When I opened my eyes, his calavera face - illuminated within the candles' shaky glow - came up to me from below, a sexy skeleton-man.  I took him in my arms, ran my fingers along the ribs on his back, and the two of us spoke in whispers.  Dane, literally, FELL into my life several months ago, and we each seem to satisfy a temporary need of the other.  It's amazing how the universe gives us just what we need at exactly the time we need it, and, like "Gloves" in my Twitter/X feed (the stray I took in last year who's newly-birthed kittens destroyed my leather computer chair), both Rudy & I seem to lean on the other as we're each in a state of mental house-cleaning, while we enter the next phase of life.  It's exhilarating, really.  Dane's youthful energy feeds my twentysomething persona, and I'm careful to mentor him, rather than using him - as I've often done to those in the past.  Chuckling.  I have a standing invitation for him to join me at Touche, and when I first broached the subject, I was honest: "Dude - physically, you're like my fuckin' wet dream.  I'll look like a badass if I walk into the bar with arm candy.  BUT - I want to shave your head first." I already have a jacket he can wear - the vintage, beat-to-hell biker's coat I acquired from the former owner of Phoenix's Bum Steer leather bar - and, as luck would have it, my last boy forgot his Garrison.  <eg>
PictureThe Hansanlu Lovers
There's a passage from Chapter Eleven that I quote on my homepage: "Releasing his grip on Frankie's biker's jacket, the young man carefully stepped around to face him.  The leathermen stood chest-to-chest, nose-to-nose-Muir to skullcap - a shark & prey in profile.  They froze intertwined in the whirling white snow, a black leather grotesque as everlastingly damaged as the Hansanlu Lovers.  Tears threatened to surface in Frankie's galvanized eyes, but he refused - flat out refused - to show any emotion at all."  Paul, the intelligent, predatorial, and delightfully-soulless friend mentioned in my last blog, was the first to point out that despite my book's dark subject matter, When People Go Away is actually really *romantic,* at least as far as its setting is concerned.  Ah, yes - the romance of the clubroom!  A few months back, I brought Amanda - an autistic friend with the social skills of Helen Keller - along with me to Touche, one fine Saturday evening.  Like I plan to do with Dane, I went through my gear and picked out something for her to wear.  I ended up putting her into a Tom of Finland T-shirt & bar vest, and we both popped a gummy as we set out for the club.  Amanda is...unusual.  She has two PhDs, a YouTube channel about makeup, and, like me, she treats her Dyson vacuum as a member of the family.  She's a literal Mensa genius, she's aware of the current paradigm shift, and with my multiple personalities, when the two of us are together, parents often gather their children.  I couldn't WAIT to pour a few beers down her throat, let the cannabis hit her bloodstream, then set her loose in the clubroom - and enjoy as hilarity ensued.  I just told her not to "gawk," to tip the bartender well, and to wash her hands if she touched...anything. 😬

Speaking of washing my hands of things,  Dane has been deep-cleaning my spare bedroom in anticipation of Radar's return.  I had to kick my last renter out.  His boss was kind enough to introduce herself this past December, as she knocked on my door at eleven in the evening - and demanded he surrender his store keys.  The stench of urine hit my face like oven heat when he finally opened his door (after I had pounded for five minutes), and, sadly, I found another recovering roommate who had relapsed in a big way.  I was empathetic, but firm. Especially when I noticed the flies buzzing around forgotten food containers, and the empty gallon-sized bottles of Skol laying sideways on what was left of my carpet.  As I don't like to live alone, I've had roommates for 30 years.  Like Recon hookups, I've got screening renters down to a science, and also like Recon hookups, I have no problem cutting someone loose if our arrangement unexpectedly goes sideways. 
Picture"It was a VERY dark and stormy night..."
Going back to Risky Business Ventures, with my ass cleanly wiped with my former 800+ credit score (kidding - I have no ass), I spend every Tues-thru-Thurs sending queries to Literary Agents - and I seem to have that down to a science too. I really AM having fun with the process.  Agents are inundated with hundreds of unsolicited queries every day, and finding a way to get their attention is something of a game - and after three books, I think I finally understand it.  I'm approaching crafting queries in the same way I write stories.  When I work, I have two computers - and both have their browsers open for on-the-fly, real-time research.  I'm always Googling stuff, looking up histories, double-checking source material, listening to YouTube videos, and running all my social media simultaneously.  A query is a book's "resume," a one-page pitch that needs to stand out from all the others.  Like resumes, queries tend to follow a format - and it's up to the writer to decide if it is done.  Inexperienced authors seem to follow the format precisely, but when you're one of three hundred other queries that day, you're likely to get lost within the inbox of "The Next Da Vinci Code!"'s.  And it's for that reason, my own query is intentionally different.  

I have a standard query "body" that I use for all solicitations; it has a strong opening paragraph, striking industry bullet points, and a third/closing paragraph that changes with the agent; I "personalize" my queries, which requires an online deep-dive.  When I find an agent who might be receptive, I scrutinize their social media - including personal websites, Facebook, Twitter/X, and Goodreads (for those agents who are authors, themselves) - and I try to find something really personal, some little detail that the agent disclosed, especially if it's unintentional.  I look at an agent's posts & pictures, watching for common themes.  Sure, it's tempting to pick something mentioned in their "wish list," but seriously...how fun is that?  I intentionally choose the unexpected, a subtle theme or pattern in the way an agent presents their lives.  Once I decide on a "theme," I find a way to tie it to my project, and I typically take a good, solid hour to personalize my message - in hopes the agent bites.  It's a frustrating process if you choose to look at it that way, but I enjoy the challenge of creativity on the fly.  At the very least, it's got me writing something every day, and that's a good thing as it leaves no time for depression.  
PictureActually, since this tweet was sent, I've shortened it to a ONE WORD whimsical statement...
Chuckling.  In additional to formal queries, I've also tried throwing a few things against the wall. 

​To close this blog entry, here's a Tweet that I also sent to John Waters, just for shits & giggles.  Look to your left <<<

I mean, seriously.  If you were an agent, and you've just spent an hour mucking the day's query inbox (well, your *intern* did, actually), how could you NOT, out of sheer & total curiosity, just type "Yes!" to see what the fuck I'm talking about?  In the risky business of writing, I know that I certainly would...

- Sir Dave 
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Steamboat Willie Wonka

1/3/2024

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PictureCan't you just imagine him holding a knife to Annette Funicello's throat, while she sings/cries: M-I-C-K-E-Y...?
I JUST LEARNED THAT "STEAMBOAT WILLIE" went Public Domain on the 1st - and there's nothing that Disney can do about it.  The article explained that's the real reason "Winnie the Pooh" was made into a slasher film.  How interesting, I thought.  I was wondering why Winnie's pot-o-hunny was filled with viscera, rather than Hickory Farms. Any idea when "The Day the Clown Died" hits public domain, by chance?  Not only do I want to see the movie, I really want to see what the source material inspires, like SNL parodies, YouTube fan-films, and an interesting spin on Krusty the Clown.  (I can't wait for the Broadway show!)  BTW, on a completely unrelated note, when ex-actly *does* Sondheim's "Send in the Clowns" go public domain?
​"Isn't is rich?  Are you prepared? 
​Just follow my floppy red shoes into the oven - it's right over there! 
Send in the clownnnns...!"
Also, in regards to giving Chucky - err, I mean Mickey - a "voice" in the horror movie being a potential copyright issue (as the original black & white film was silent), I mean, seriously?  Can the live, in-person, modern Cinemark audience reeeeeeeally hear Mickey's squeaky little rodent voice over the goddamn CHAINSAW ?

Chuckling.  It's fun to watch the memories of my childhood being retooled into something horrible for a modern audience.  The moment I realized Pooh had been "reimagined" as a splatterfest, the Smurfs immediately came to mind.  I remember taking road trips as a kid, in the back seat of our 81' Fleetwood Diesel, putting on "shows" in the car's rear window (for passing motorists to see) with the $2.99-with-purchase Smurfs dolls from some fast food joint.  For as dark as my mind gets, it didn't even dawn on me, the real reason Papa Smurf's jammy-bottoms-with-feet were red (while everyone else's were white) was because of what probably happened to all the other smurfs in the acid-vat-filled-basement of his whimsical mushroom house. I mean, sure: You'd think that with as "small" of a society the Smurfs had (I believe there were only 100 of them, per the series' lore), a SE7EN-like serial killer would have been noticed by someone, as the already-tiny population slowly disappeared, one...by...eviscerated one, into the enchanted forest?  No wonder I never missed an episode as a kid.  Well, that - and The Smurfs killed the time while waiting for Flash Gordon & Thundarr the Barbarian.

Speaking of acid-vat-filled-basements, Dane was rummaging through my own this afternoon, looking through my power tools.  He's working on something in his room.  There's thrift store jewelry scattered everywhere.  He started by asking if I had a small screwdriver (the kind to repair eyeglasses), and I directed him to my tool boxes, in the basement utility room that also has my sling & bondage wall.  He was downstairs for hours.  When I eventually came down with laundry, I found him digging through my extra Christmas stuff, scavenging for things to sell (at my request).  I was...amused.  Dane is as scatterbrained as me.  We both like to multi-task, but we also tend to spin so many plates at once, everything hits the ground with a crash, like Nancy Pelosi's face when the Botox wears off. When I found Dane downstairs, he was surrounded by piles of potential money makers:  My CD collection. My undisplayed lot of Babylon 5 action figures, mint, in package.  My late grandmother's aluminum pots & pans that still smell like bacon grease.  A hideous set of Dept 56 Xmas kitch, unloaded - err, I mean given to me - by a well-meaning gay neighbor.  As I need to raise some cash to keep the lights on while querying literary agents this month, I'd given Card Blanche to go through my shit...however, I'd failed to give him a timetable of when I wanted the project done.  Consequently, my once-tidy utility room now resembles an episode of Hoarders.  (Smiling & sighing.)  Good thing I like to clean...
Picture"Have you ladies read Fifty Shades of Grey?"
On the topic of cleaning, I asked John at Touche last weekend if the staff had to stay after the bar closed, and clean up the New Years Eve mess.  It seemed like I'd spent the entire weekend at the club with the guys, and Monday night's NYE party marked the end to an interesting three days, the fitting close of 2023.  For two of the three nights, I'd hung with a group of grizzled, old leather daddies, visiting from out of town.  They were drunk, high, and a rollicking lot, though I was getting pawed lasciviously by one of the dudes who mentioned more than once that he and his partner had an open relationship.  Their attention made me feel all warm & fuzzy inside, a much-needed ego boost to a man hitting 55 in March.  The evening's second ego boost happened when my last boy - who hasn't given me the time of day since my recent suicide attempt - stumbled into the bar at 2am, dressed in disheveled gear.  It took him awhile to notice me, and when he did it was deliciously awkward.  I smiled politely as he drunkenly stripped to his boots, jock, & vest, and tried - and failed - to walk a straight line to the clubroom.  I was reminded of my own sobriety test - well, tests actually, as I've had more than one DUI - when I assured the officer that I'd stopped after three, maybe four, okay - eleven drinks tops, and that my Cary-Grant-in-North-by-Northwest driving had really been caused by fatigue - rather than the fact that I was speaking through a Chernobyl-like cloud of whiskey.  Christ, I miss the 90s.  Or at least, what I can remember of the nineties.

Another interesting observation was the inordinate amount of women in the club on New Years Eve; I don't know where they came from, and many didn't have dates.  As 3am neared, I saw a tipsy straight couple dancing together in the front bar.  HE wore a suit & tie, SHE, a kicky gold sequined dress & heels.  As house music blasted over the sound system, the two danced merrily, as though at a wedding with a very unusual theme.  Paul, an intelligent, predatorial, and delightfully-soulless friend of mine commented that Touche might become a bachelorette destination.  Funny.  I'd been thinking the same thing.  And I'm sure that reading "Fifty Shades of Grey" a decade ago had fully prepared these open-minded women for what happens in the clubroom at 2am on a weekend, when the Halsted bars close - and the drunken, the damned, & the douchebags stumble into the club, hoping to get their dick sucked because their Grindr trick ghosted them. 

​Something to work into their wedding vows, perhaps...?
PictureSo, do you cum here often?
I first met Paul on a "Daddy & son" night at Touche, probably a good six months ago.  He sat next to me at the bar, and I think I started the conversation.  We hit it off immediately.  We were two smart dirtbags who liked good books, obscure movies, and fucking with people in the bar.  For the past few months, Paul & I have developed a curmudgeonly friendship, as we seem to share the same jaded outlook on life.  We're now past the early stage of getting to know the other, the part where we tried to impress each other with wit & sexual conquest, and we've moved into the deeper subjects - most recently, the tragicomedy of growing older, as we've each entered middle age, and the melancholy that ensues.  Yesterday, we shared our first sexual experiences before we shed our Catholic guilt:

I had my first sexual experience in an XXX bookstore, back in the 80s.  It was on Farmington Road in Peoria Illinois, one of four such fine establishments per that year's Dameron Guide (which I'd found hidden in my Father's work car), and its parking lot was filled with rusty pickup trucks & family station wagons.  I was young, terrified of AIDS, still living with the folks, and I had just discovered bulimia.

I remember dissociating myself as some older guy fondled me in the booth, while the grainy audio from looped VHS porn filled the smokey air with moans, "Yeah baby's," quarters falling into coin slots, zippers unzipping, labored breathing, and sloppy squirts of lube.  (I *did* mention the untreatable AIDS, right?). Oh - and the smell: a blend of cigarettes, Drakkar Noir, mold, cum, and Pine Sol.

I don't even remember if I climaxed, but I DO remember getting home before my parents, and tearing off my clothes as I ran sobbing towards the shower, where I scrubbed myself in the hottest water possible, like a first responder at Fukushima.  Oh, and I did mention the untreatable -

Nevermind.

Yup - my first sexual experience was indeed, enchanting -
And Paul's, I learned sadly, had been equally so.  
PictureStairway to Heaven
On the other end of the Catholic guilt spectrum, Huck is another close friend who, like myself & Paul, is "coming to life in middle age," only Huck's transcendence came after a shitty check-off-the-matrimony-sacrament-box marriage to a woman.  Huck is my "theater buddy" (mentioned in previous blogs), and as he lives just se7en minutes away, I often find myself at his house, chatting about life, love, & loneliness, and watching Broadway on-demand.  While Paul is dark & cynical, Huck has an endearing optimism - a growing spirit of hopefulness as he explores his new life as a "Pleasure Dom," with a talent for Sabari bondage.   Huck's the confidant who confirmed the existence of my "invisible alter" (who's apparently a dick, btw), and the two of us draw from the same pool of subs in the far western burbs, often comparing notes on our experiences.  It's fun to watch Huck grow into the man he was always meant to be.  It's refreshing to see that someone with an unhappy past can actually find joy in his fifties, as he joins the kink scene at the tender age of 53, doing what he'd always wanted with his life.  Chuckling...Huck has his own "dirty bookstore stories," and unlike my own late Father - a closeted gay man whose miserable Catholic marriage to my Mother completely broke his spirit - Huck's accepted his past, and has found a way to thrive.  I respect people like that.  I really do.  

​Back in early December, Huck took me to his own "Touche:" the "G2" sex club, in one of the inner-city communities.  G2 was an unexpected experience.  It's like this big suburban dungeon space, on the top of a three-story apartment building.  A dimly-lit, Exorcist-like staircase - a joy to walk up wearing skin-tight leather pants, btw - takes the visitor to the tippy-top of a steep interior stairwell, where a tiny landing allows just enough room for an unmarked door to swing open, revealing what's hidden behind.  G2 is fuckin' massive.  It's divided into three chambers: a public (dry) bar for socializing, and two seperate play spaces with slings, spanking benches, bondage tables, suspension arrays, about seven Saint Andrew's Crosses, great lighting & music, and Windex n' paper towels located everywhere.  It's basically Wonka's chocolate factory for kinksters.

​The whole place has an "exhibitionist" feel, and though it technically caters to everyone, the straight's outnumber the gays.  I like G2 because of its strict protocol; the club is governed by a firmly-enforced code of conduct, and the Dungeon Master isn't kind if you break it.  Huck has a paid membership, and the second night he took me, we went with Harvey - a sub that we'd both played with on our own before.  I'd brought a duffel with restraints (it was my intention to participate), but I ended up just observing as Huck took charge of the scene, and tied Harvey - a dude so tall, he could barely fit on the furniture - to one of the room's larger crosses. Like the numerous George Kennedy's being led on all fours by mistresses, we all had fun in our own, individual ways - and I'm totally going again.  I mean, I did mention the Windex, right?  
Picture"Have YOU ever read Fifty Shades of Grey?"
In other news, the website issues are over - and I'm ready to resume shopping the book next week.  I think I have a solid query; it's mostly high-powered bullet points, but I'm hoping that between the query & site, an agent will bite - and request the complete manuscript.  I'm already working on Book #4, and the new title is: If You Write the Music, I'll Write the Lyrics.  The story takes place within the Beekman Place universe, and as When People Go Away introduced/established the three primary alters, the reader will follow these characters in three seperate, distinct, and congruent narratives, told side-by-side in every third chapter - and Frankie, Alan, and Michael will each have their own individual storylines.  I think I'm going to open the Prologue with Alan attempting suicide, which will allow me to share what happened in my own mind on the night I cut my wrists, long-ways.  I've referenced the event in an earlier blog, but for the sake of brevity, I didn't go into detail - though I did allude to its violence.  Truth be told, I didn't feel a goddamn thing as I walked through my house, taking one last look at my collections, cats, & computers.  Everyone assumes that committing suicide is an emotional experience, but "true" despair - the grief that I've lived with for almost 30 years - has literally no emotion at all.  I was chillingly calm, and strategic in my slices.  The only thing that I remember going through my mind was that scene in Constantine where Keanu Reeves talks to Lucifer after John cuts his own wrists.  Peter Stormare says something like, Cutting too deep is a rookie mistake.  You damage the tendons, and you can't use your cigarette lighter.  In hindsight, that was likely one of my alters intervening. Not only did he save my life, he also spared my hands - which I need to write & draw.

But going back to Book #4, I'm setting the main story - the heart of the book, so to speak - smack-dab in the middle of Touche, with a focus on the characters.  The bar is filled with many interesting people, and I'm going to do a man-with-a-gyroscopic-camera sorta' thing, where we follow different leathermen - some familiar to readers, others will be new - as they go about their daily lives, against the community's camaraderie, with a deliberate musical path connecting each important scene to the next.  It will be challenging in a good way.  I'm already trolling friends for material:)  I want to capture these men's' lives, from the debauchery of the clubroom to the touching moments that happen outside, where you see close friends huddled together, in clouds of smoke, tears, emotion, & humor...under the glow of the bar's exterior sign. 

That's what the real scene is about -
And it's as magical as a chocolate factory.

- Sir Dave
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Santa's Little Yelpers

12/14/2023

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Picture
Before we begin, as this is the holiday season, please allow me to indulge myself and to recycle an old blog post from ten years ago.  I love to parody songs, to rewrite wholesome lyrics into something truly inappropriate, and this little diddy is perfect for those rosy-cheeked carolers - and to counteract the unnecessary frequency WLS plays Wham's "Last Christmas." 

(Ahem.)

You know Dancer and Prancer and Comet and Blitzen.
Bette, Babs, and Liza ... and some hooker called "Vixen."
But, can you recall, the most famous reindeer of all ... ?

Rudolph the drag queen reindeer ... had a thing for panty-hose ...
He had an eye for fashion ... his cave was draped in Gucci throws!

All of the other reindeer ... used to laugh, they'd call him "queer."  They'd really get offended when ... he'd order wine instead of beer!  Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say:  (Drunkenly)  "Rudolph ... I want you ... I need you ... I love you ... did I mention I'm gay?

(A bum-bum-bum ...)

Now all the reindeer loathe him ... as Rudolph's Santa's favorite "buck."  Santa eyed Rudolph's antlers ... rubbed his crotch and said "Let's fuck!"  Soon, the happy couple was married ... the elves, they wished them all the best.  And now Santa Claus and Rudolph spend ... (big finish) ... Christmas fisting in Key Weeeeeeest!

I shall now pause for your riotous applause. 
PictureTrump tried that already, but it wouldn't fit on a hat.
Moving on to other matters, it was brisk December Tuesday a week ago when shit-water rained down from my dining room ceiling directly over my writing desk.  I own an old house, and the bathroom is on the second floor above my computers.  A trick had used the washroom, and had apparently overflowed the toilet without telling me.  The dude was gross.  I hate man-scents, and actually stopped our scene at one point to make him put on deodorant.  He was good 30 lbs heavier than his Recon photos, and I should have given more attention to the screening process.  But, alas, I rushed things because I wanted the company that afternoon.   He turned out to be a sarcastic little shit, a frequent participant in Touche's clubroom free-for-all, and I could feel my alters joking with each other, as "Alan" was teaching "Michael" his style of play - but kept getting knocked out of his headspace. 

​Midway through the session I had completely lost all interest, and I was trying to stay in character while going through the motions.  I was fighting the urge to laugh when he climaxed; he shot so hard, cum sprayed across my bed like seltzer water.  When he finally finished, I joked that I now needed to wash my comforter. The gentleman didn't miss a beat: "Yeah," he said snottily.  "Like I'm sure this is the first time that's ever happened in this room." Ahem.  I almost slapped him. 

​I often joke to subs "Be sure and give me a good Yelp review," but in this particular case, like Uber allows drivers to rate customers, I wished I could do the same for some of the guys I've played with.  Something tells me I'd be adept with the comments.
PictureSpringfield's Hell on Earth: Little Flower Catholic School.
​As my eleven personalities reintegrate, it's hard not to see the humor in how fucked up my life has become.  As I've finally shed my crippling Catholic guilt - and the hammered, hammered, hammered-in notion that traditional relationships are the only ones acceptable - I'm rapidly reassessing what I "really" want in a partnership, should the opportunity ever present itself.  This isn't the place for a Match.com profile, but I will say that I'm a "sapiosexual" - I'm sexually attracted to intelligent people. Considering that I've been trapped in my head for 45 years, it's no surprise that I'm drawn to the cerebral, but in my particular case I also must find someone who understands Dissociative Identity Disorder, and can follow my rapid-fire stream of consciousness, especially when things get emotional.  Right now I'm in a sort of "euphoria," a frustrating freeness because nobody knows I'm here yet; everyone still sees me as the Dave they've always known, and that likely won't change until When People Go Away is published.  Add to that, I have at least eleven different people fighting for my attention - some of them children, and one of them suicidal.  There's also an "invisible" alter who completely takes over my body without my knowledge.  I learned of his existence last week when I was told by a friend that we'd attended a performance of The Rocky Horror Show live onstage together - but I have absolutely no recollection of the evening.  

Going back to nontraditional relationships, what I reeeeeeally want is someone who takes leather as seriously as I do, while at the same time understands the melancholy that comes with growing older - but refuses to succumb to it.  That's what my whole life has been about: refusing to accept other people's opinions of me (especially when I was drinking), knowing that no matter how challenging the adversities, I would find a way to thrive. There is no such thing as an unsolvable problem; you just need a different perspective, and I happen to have eleven.  I'm 54 years old, and for the first time in my life, I actually feel alive.  And depending on how these next few months go - and God willing, I make some cash off my book - I intend to live the rest of my life to the fullest, while never giving up my disturbingly-dark sense of humor.  Chuckling...one of my personalities likes to make people cringe.

That being said, I can't help but chuckle when I think about what has become "normal" to me as I explore my new life.  About six months ago, I was in the Touche clubroom, talking to a friend at the back bar.  My buddy is well-known in the community, a beloved local sleazebag who gets off on being humiliated in public, and while the two of us were chatting, a random dude walked up to him from behind and brazenly plowed him at the bar in front of me.  I fought back a smile; my friend didn't miss a beat in our conversation. He was very good at multi-tasking. With the sole exception of his googly-eyes bulging out in time with the penetration, there was no indication that anything was happening at all - and I realized that occurrences like this have been a natural thing for me, as long as I can remember.  When I think about "normal" people, traditional things just don't interest me anymore.  Forgive me for being rude, but most people are so damn boring.  And I say "boring" only because nobody seems to know what "vapid" means, even if they Google the definition, and God knows I've all but screamed it in their faces as I merrily go about daily life.  Nobody reads books.  Nobody's seen a Hitchcock movie.  Nobody's done a YouTube deep-dive on North Korea, just...because.  Nobody appreciates the subtlety of Julian Fellowes' The Gilded Age, when Christine Baranski's Agnes - on realizing she was broke - opted to throw her gowns into the trash (rather than give them to charity) because the needy "wouldn't appreciate how fine her garments were." 

(Spitting out my coffee in laughter.) 

Seriously, am I the only gay man who looks "up" from his phone when he leaves the house?  I mean sure, my smartphone is usually glued to me (I'm always texting), but the texts I write are about my observations - and the reason I have them is because I look UP.  I love observational humor.  Few people do it well.  The late Mitch Hedberg was probably the master at it - Escalators never break; they just become stairs - but Anthony Jeselnik is my current favorite, as his humor is Hitchcockian: The worst gift you can give someone who just had an abortion is a to-go box.  (He's my fuckin' wet dream when he wears his leather jacket.)  And for those of you following along, notice that I just made "Hitchcock" into an adjective.  You can do that you know.  Be creeeeeeative when you write?
PictureBrilliant.
​The last truly original novel I read was Andrew Davidson's staggering 2009 debut, "The Gargoyle."  The book is fucking brilliant.  Google it if you want the Amazon synopsis, but the basic gist is that it's the most twisted, fucked-up, Hitchcockian love story ever written, and it actually made me cry on two levels: one, the ending was beautiful; and two, Davidson succeeded in distracting me because the story was so good, I never even noticed that the book's main character - a pornographer-slash-third-degree burn victim who is eternally in love with a schizophrenic sculptor who carves grotesques in the nude - never gave his name...once.  (Standing to CLAP.)  This book is so original, there's nothing else to compare it to, but it's timing was off; had the publisher sat on it for a decade before its release, it would have been a bestseller.  As a writer myself, I know the importance of a strong opening sentence, and Davidson knocks it out of the ballpark: Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.  To me, those words are so seared into my memory, and even with my cognitive issues, I'm confident I don't have to get my copy to double-check it.  

On the subject of memories, all books contain three of them, in addition to the narrative.  First is the "story" obviously, the dust jacket stuff, the Patterson-y prose in your favorite author's latest.  For me those authors include Caleb Carr (The Alienist was incredible), Michael Crichton (he was very cinematic), Stephen King (obviously), and of course Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child.  Preston/Child in particular are probably my current fav's because they're so over the fuckin' top.  (Like when Pendergast killed Diogenes, after a three-book story-arc, by literally throwing him into a volcano ... or DID he?).  I also love that fact that his butler's name is "Proctor," his daily ride is a vintage Silver Wraith, and that he lives in The Dakota, where Lennon was shot, on Fox Mulder's salary.  I also like that he drinks absinthe with dinner.  And that his family home has a necropolis.  

The second memory contained within the book is what was happening in the author's mind, at the time he/she wrote the work.  One of my all-time favorite books - and yes, this will probably shock you - is Richard Adams' Watership Down from 1972.  The book is a fascinating adventure story about a pack of wild rabbits who flee their home just days before it's destroyed by housing development.  It's told from the Point of View of the rabbits themselves, and even though the story "reads" like a Biblical epic, when you actually see a map of the novel's location (included at the start of the book), you realize that the whole thing took place over just a few miles.  It's a beautiful metaphor of how small we really are, once we think about what lays beyond the heavens.  I believe the book got its start by Adams telling his children a story to keep them entertained during a long family road trip, and luckily, somewhere along the drive, someone realized the importance of writing it down.
PictureThe cover of The Hitchhiker's Guide to Galaxy was emblazoned with the words: "Don't Panic."
The third memory involves what was happening in the reader's mind when they read the novel.  I doubt I'll ever re-read my early Stephen King hardcovers, but I still keep them proudly displayed because they have fond memories of the 1980s (and I love their early-to-mid-80s graphics).  That period of the nineteen-eighties was a fun time to be a reader, especially will the era's all-but-forgotten genre of good, solid, science-based sci-fi pulps, like James P Hogan's Inherit the Stars, anything by Asimov, and of course Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  Like my treasured childhood toy collection, I also display what I have left from my books at the time, and Watership Down is displayed among them.  But it's not my original copy.  Chuckling...I have a have a habit of giving books to men who are dear to me*, and my childhood paperback was inadvertently lost because I gave it to someone I shouldn't have.  My bad - I'd been vapid.  I've always been observant, but only recently have I grown to both understand - and appreciate - people's true character.  Something to add to my Yelp review, I guess.

Anyway ...
So technically, as a man of a certain age, I should be home on the couch on Saturday night, falling asleep to Netflix with a cat between my legs - a glimpse into retirement, and death.  But I refuse to be that person.  Fuck normalcy.  As Capote said: "It may be normal Darling, but I'd rather be natural."

And naturally, as it is the Christmas season, let's wrap this up with another gem from the vault:
PictureSanta at a DUI checkpoint.
Up on the housetop, reindeer crash ... out stumbles Santa, stoned and smashed!  He falls down through the chimney, breaking all the toys ... the children wake up from his drug-fueled noise!  Ho, ho, ho ... Santa blows!  He's like a slob from a reality show!  Ho, ho, ho ... Santa's "blow!"  It's all over his face and around his nose!  Face down on the squad car, click, click, click!   The man in the Muir cuffs old Saint Nick!

Have yourself a merry little XXX-mas ....

- Sir Dave
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The Lyin' in Winter

11/27/2023

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So, I just saw "The Lion in Winter" onstage a few nights ago, my fifth live theatrical performance in just three weeks.  I absolutely love the film; it's venomous banter is delightful during the holiday season.   In addition to TLIW I've also seen Nevermore: The Story of Edgar Allan Poe, Little Shop of Horrors, Sondheim's Assassins, American Psycho (obviously my favorite), and a few others whose name escapes me.  I'm going to see The Betty Boop musical this weekend, and I'm curious how the show presents its vintage source material to a modern audience.  I mean, does anyone even know who Betty Boop was? I'm hoping they portray her as "Toot" from Drawn Together.  I'm definitely in the mood for a show centered around an aging alcoholic with body shaming issues - especially if we get to see Toot "cut" herself, as she did in the show.  

On the subject of cutting one's self, it's been almost four months since I was staggering through my living room one fine evening, sobbing so hard it looked like I was fucking, digging into my wrists long-ways with a kitchen knife - and leaving a trail of arterial spray throughout my house.  There was blood...everywhere.  On my carpet.  On my walls.  On my vintage toy collection.  On the keyboard where I write my books.  After 40+ years, my depression had finally overtaken me, and had a worried passerby not seen me with a knife on my porch (and called 911), I wouldn't be alive to write this blog.   I ended up hospitalized for two solid weeks, and when my Mother was called to pick me up, she pleaded with the unit's staff not to release me.  Her demeanor was so frightening, the orderly who walked me out actually pulled me aside and warned me ahead of time.  "She doesn't want you released," he told me.  "She wants us to keep you here - and she's almost hysterical."

The "hysterical" thing is why I was hospitalized to begin with. Writing When People Go Away marks the end of a 40-year journey (and a 30-year writing project), as my brain - literally - has been using the written word as a means to repair itself, after a severe, untreated childhood concussion.  Of course, as though the brain damage weren't bad enough, I'm also the victim of Oedipal sexual abuse in the late 1970s - a series of behind-closed-doors encounters that broke my further into three different personalities.  I have been suicidal since 1996, and the only thing keeping me from going through with the act was the fact that I knew I was put on this earth to be a writer - and I refused to die without writing my masterpiece.

And When People Go Away is that masterpiece.
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There isn't a single symptom of Dissociative Identity Disorder that cannot be dismissed as alcoholism.  "Missing time" is a blackout.  Switching alters is "getting into character" or "putting on a game face."  Forgetfulness is the expected consequence of long term drinking.  Anxiety comes from DT's.  Even suggesting that an alcoholic might have multiple personalities is immediately dismissed as the mother of all denial systems.  And I totally agree.  As a man who tried to drink himself to death, it is farrrrrrrrrrrr more likely that I'm making excuses for drunken behavior than it is that I have eleven different personalities.  But the proof is in the pudding.  This website contains over a decade's worth of archives, the blogs in particular, which show a broken brain that's slowly - and successfully - triaged itself back together.  Take a moment to explore "Dave's Blog Archive" on the drop-down menu.  If you start at the beginning, you can clearly see my personalities reintegrating, with distinctively different voices contributing to every post.  You can also see my multiple personalities coming out in my cartoons over the years - especially the arrival of "Alan" who suddenly appears in my comics' David Alan Dedin signature, after 96'.  DavidAlanDedin.com is a priceless "history" of the human brain healing itself after unfathomable trauma caused by what I believe is one of the worst cases of child abuse/neglect in modern history.  

Chuckling.  When I told Mother that this would be my last Christmas on earth, she immediately shot back that I'm always "threatening" - and that "some things never change."  I guess that means my three suicide attempts, the last one causing three different hospital stays (and a big carpet cleaning bill, as Mother quickly wanted to clean up and hide the mess) were just...threats.  

​It's amazing how deep Catholic guilt can run.
PictureGoodbye to Beekman Place, my first novel, on display in Chicago's Leather Archive.
Anyway, as I'm off to see Boop - followed by a stop at "G2" and later of course, Touche - I'm looking forward to enjoying the holiday season this year, as I'm surrounded by friends, rather than family.

- Sir Dave
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Better With Friends on Veteran's Day

11/11/2023

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Chuckling...so, I kinda' got kicked off the Fox News lot yesterday :)

Actually, it's not as bad as it sounds.  I was in the city for a day to chill, to hit a museum and to grab dinner somewhere.  The manuscript is as perfect as I can make it, and, after months of unanswered email messages (where I was undoubtedly dismissed as a crackpot), I decided on Thursday to just throw on some clothes and take the Metra to the city, where I'd planned to leave a printed copy of When People Go Away at the Fox News reception desk.  But I was told (understandably) that unsolicited packages were not accepted, though one of the building's security staff pulled me aside and suggested I return on Friday morning, when the channel broadcasts live in the courtyard outside the studio, during football season.   I thanked the employee gratefully, then grabbed a room at at The Congress, ironically, the IML host hotel.  I threw an overnight bag together at Walgreens, enjoyed an unnecessarily-expensive burger at Five Guys, then spent the evening exploring both Michigan Ave & State Street - taking in the holiday decorations and tipping a few buskers. 

I couldn't sleep of course, so I got up early, grabbed breakfast, made sure I had my manuscript, then went walking through downtown Chicago at 5am.  I love the city at night.  I love the early-mornings, in particular.  I arrived at Fox, and found the spot where the hosts would be located.  I'll admit, I was expecting a "Janice Dean say-hi-on-the-sidewalk" sort of greeting, but instead I was told firmly to leave and to never come back (obviously because my Schott & Muir wasn't the preferred aesthetic for an audience background).  I sighed and left.  It was yet another roadblock in the 30-year-process of writing WPGA.  So, I just said "fuck it," and FedEx'd the book to Gutfeld, dropping it on his desk like a bomb.

​I have, literally, done everything humanly possible to share my story, and at this point ... I'm done.
Picture
On a different topic, I saw a solid community theater production of Stephen Sondheim's "Assassins" last night - and absolutely loved it.  It's no secret I prefer Andrew Lloyd Webber over Sondheim because I enjoy ALW's melodies and wordplay - though I openly admit SS is the superior lyricist.  ALW gives you songs in your head to take with you after leaving the theater, but SS really gives you something to think about after leaving the performance.  ALW is big & brassy, SS is subtle & eloquent.  ALW's "Memory" is a breathtakingly-beautiful, while SS's "A Little Priest" has a lyrical structure as complicated as a line of DNA code.  I had never seen Assassins (I hadn't even YouTube'd the soundtrack), so like a first viewing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I was, ironically, a "virgin."  I'll remind myself of that the next time I open Grindr.

The reason why I enjoyed Assassins as I did was that I finally understood how gifted Sondheim was.  There was a moment during the performance when every character on stage points a gun directly at the audience, threatening to shoot.  As soon as I saw that, a "connection" was made in my head, and I realized that SS was using words in the same manner as me - he sets up moments where his characters are conduits, where he can share grand ideas while always maintaining the safety of claiming it was "just a story."  It was at that moment that I realized just how dark of a show Assassins is, and what an irony seeing this show at this moment in my life really was.  Quite frankly, now that the manuscript is literally out of my hands, the wall that has protected me from three failed suicide attempts has come down.  And I couldn't be happier.
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Speaking of unexpected community theater, tomorrow I get to see a show in Streator, Illinois.  Yup - I said Streator.  For those unfamiliar, Streator is known for its high per-capita of registered sex offenders, which has something to do with the placement of schools: apparently, Streator's educational system allows enough physical distance for offenders to live in close proximity of each other, without the restrictions of being too close to a children's playground.   Fun.  I'm reminded of OZ's Vernon Schillinger, sitting on the throne of Shakespeare's Hamlet during the show's final season.  I'm going to see "Nevermore, the Imaginary Life and Mysterious Death of  Edgar Allan Poe," another virgin-production that I'm unfamiliar with.  It looks really good, and as my personalities reintegrate, the one who loves Broadway Shows - a child, sadly - has been playing fuckin' musicals on my iPhone for a solid month now.  I'm tempted to cheat, and to listen to Nevermore online first, but after having such a good experience at Assassins last night, fuck it.  How can that show with that subject matter performed by that pool of potentially-pedophole-thesbians not be priceless?  I mean, Poe died in the gutter, so why not use musical theater to rise him from one?  I totally want to see an ensemble cast of serious ex-cons, dressed to the nines with the best that the prison linen closet can offer, singing, of course,  A Little Judas Priest. 

On an unrelated note, I just realized that When People Go Away is "God's suicide note."

(Smiling sadly.)

 - Sir Dave
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