Uh Oh...

Doesn't sound good this time.

But he's tougher than your average mortal.

Update:  The Obit.

“I ain’t got nothing against them Vietcong.”


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You May Not Recognize It

The End:  2016 Election sub-special, Gil Scott Heron.

Poem of the Day: Peter Porter.


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Horror of Horrors

I nearly had a "the dog ate my homework" moment this morning.

I always pay my rent with a money order because I don't buy much and feel no need to pay up the arse for blank checks from my bank, another of the myriad "services" the bank claims to be offering you while enhancing your rape.

Walking home from the store, I managed to unknowingly drop my rent money order on the trolley platform near my pad. Intuition or fate caused me to search my pockets again because as usual I wanted to make sure I hadn't--that is right--accidentally dropped my money.

Naturally a great panic seized me when I discovered it missing and I hastily retraced my steps.  The very nightmare scenario that I had imagined happening was playing out!

I noticed a couple of sketchy characters (they are in abundance in my neighborhood) walking behind me as I turned back. I checked them for any unnecessary exuberance in the moment (the kind you feel when you find a large amount of free money), didn't see any, and continued with my search.

There it was on the edge of the platform, enticingly dancing in the slight breeze.  On a windy day it might have taken flight, never to return.  A moment later, another sketchy humanoid might have snatched it up.

Today, I got lucky.  I'm in no position to pay double for rent, can't even really afford what I pay to begin with.

I was mere seconds from having to concoct a story.

Oh, the rent?  Funny you should ask, the dog ate it.

On the bright side--you might call it the "dead horse" or "tilted windmill" effect--CounterPunch published my most recent essay today, so I have that going for me.


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O Woe...(Or, War is Peace)

Lead balloon?

Good God Almighty, spare us the misery!




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Sarajevo

The End: 2016 Election Special: "Sarajevo."

Poem of the Day: Howard Nemerov.


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The Weather

Holy hazy horizon!

The weather report says we're going to have a weekend above 100 degrees Saturday and Sunday!

I better get out my swim suit and fins!


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Wordy

I was flush full of it yesterday after putting in the hours.

Not so much now; back to the drawing board. The piece is missing something.  Hard to tell what, a good groove maybe, an essential rhythm, better focus...

Should untie my sentences and clean it up.

A step back and a day away can mess up the best of plans.  It's never over.


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To the Point

I offer a post-Memorial Day reflection on a holiday I have never liked.  I propose instead a sober, fearless national examination of the other 364 days each year on our endless imperial wars, with the last Monday in May reserved for a day off to experience what life might feel like without them.--JD

Every once and again you run across a writer who says what you think.  Here is a prime example.


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Go Galen!

Bernie Sanders and his California supporters not only expect to win big in next Tuesday’s primary, but say Democrats will not pick their nominee until July’s national convention.

“It’s a floor fight in Philly,” said Galen Swain, a semi-retired engineer standing at street corner Santa Cruz on Tuesday hoisting a “Honk for Bernie” sign near a big hall where Sanders was to speak. “I’m absolutely certain we will close the gap on her [in Tuesday’s primary]… This is a gut check for Democrats. Do they want to run a candidate who has the FBI for a running mate?”--SR

LOL with Sanders' fans and Galen; you can't say they don't have humor to go along with their utter stupidity!  Dumb engineer.


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Fan

(Buddy Dooley photo)


A fan's selfie, above the average pay-grade I'd say. The eyes, sans reading glasses, say he'll snuff out any long runs you think you have in store against this monster Oregon Duck.  Quack...


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Porch

(Buddy Dooley photo)


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Millennial

(Buddy Dooley photo)

My daughter two summers ago.  She can text and writes swell letters when she chooses to.  (But will she eat her delicious dishes of fruit?)


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Perspective

Why in the name of Lucifer do people insist he drop out?

In this small poll even a majority of Demos want him to stay in.  It also says Clinton is favored among the same voters, so don't call it rigged or biased against her campaign.

Just look at who is calling the shots.

In this case I'm betting people want her to move left with Bernie's nudge, but of course she won't budge.

However, I'm all for the strategy such as it is.

Please people, wake up.  Democracy cannot be about coronations and pixie dust.

It can however be inclusive of rambunctious fighters who won't quit until the last vote is counted.


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The Real Deal

The End:  Election, 2016.  This is low-budget homemade literacy fronting a great tune by Rise Against: "Hero of War."

With the Poem of the Day:  E.E. Cummings.

ED:  A "Poem of the Day" will accompany my series of anti-war music posts through the culmination of this project, aka election day, if I live that long!


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Writing Today

Ah, I finally got my 2000-word piece shaped into something nice, a labor of love and hate.

It came together as I was frying up a mess of chicken thighs.

I jumped into it with more clarity as I started the gravy, which I almost overcooked, because I was going hard at the subject matter and it was coming together.

I like the piece, the chicken and the gravy.  Doesn't mean the Man will or that I even know what I'm doing in any category.

Except my gravy is always good.  Time to relax.

I'm happy.  We'll see...


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