Archive for December, 2012

Babel to Babylon (and back again)


babel (Photo credit: throgers)


from Babel to Babylon
and back again

towers of information
techno Babel

a particle chamber annihilation
in one one trillionth of a second

what chance do we stand?
the powers that be have always been
and they will endure
they have their exit strategies well planned

but what about you or I?
are you tired of being herded into conformity
and seeing your children becoming cardboard cutouts?
don’t you see?
it’s starts with you or I

we must
must question why
and leave those questions in our children’s minds

it’s easy to fall in a comfortable dogma
but these dogmas no longer serve the day
they call it evolution for a reason
and what has always worked before
may lead to our extinction




Buzz Trip through the Cosmos

manhattan solstice 3

manhattan solstice 3 (Photo credit: Dave Kliman)


The Neighborhood Nuts are all hunkered down in their
campers, hovels and sheds for a snowy Solstice.  I
didn’t make it to pops to restock his whiskey supply.
I don’t expect he’ll be going anywhere today.

I’m stationed here for the Solstice in South Mantucky.
My friends all pussed out on putting together a
Solstice Party so fuck ’em.  I’m gonna hide in my
room and try to channel Gumbytron.  It’s a perfect
night to tune into the Divine.

Or get obliviated.  Perhaps I’ll do the latter, I’ll
see what over-the-counter and prescription goodies
I can whip up into a Smoothie and take a Buzz Trip
through the Cosmos.  Ah, but those days are sadly
behind me, I gave up on polluting myself into a
stupor quite a while back.

I had wanted to go down to Lake Hope for the Solstice,
I was supposed to be there for the 72 hour opening
of the Blue Gate but it wasn’t in the cards.  I had
thought of renting a cabin down there but again none
of my buddies would commit.

I could have worked on the replacement matrix board
for level 4 I suppose, which by the way is progressing
nicely.  Getting rid of the Superiority Complex is
a major improvement over the previous prototype.  And
the Pizza Mandala in the center of the matrix grid
looks quite good.  I don’t think I’ll include any
intersects of divine intercession into the matrix but
mazy add a few gates.

Which reminds me, I have to get my Hyborian Gates
cards back from Knight Chris so I can complete my
matrix board.  I could also use some found objects
but nothing of interest has turned up around here.

I feel kind of naked without my wizard staff.  I
should have brought it with me to Mantucky.  At least
I have my spell book, “Space Ghost : The Sorceress of
Cyba-3,” with me.  Don’t think I’ll need it but you
never know.


Gather Ye Green Buds with apologies to R. Herrick

anti fascism graffiti

anti fascism graffiti (Photo credit:

Gather ye green buds while ye may
And soon ye shall be flying
The fools that bar thee will find dismay
In all that they’ve been lying

The glorious torch that lights the bong
The higher we’ll be getting
And gladly sing this mirthful song
Tis fascist rules a-setting

That bud is best which is the first
Just ask the ganja farmer
But being toked as heads are versed
Brings memories that much warmer

Then be not shy, but use your pipes
for occasions that are merry
let the fascist’s take their swipes
and prey they do not tarry


Reading of my Herrick Bastardization

Hippie Eupocalypse – T – 32 Hours

Hamster fishing

Hamster fishing (Photo credit: The Shifted Librarian)


This may be the last time I write in a human form.
The day of the Hamster Ascension is upon us and when
you see me next I may be a 400 pound white hamster.
I eat crackers, not because I have to but because I
like them.

We are entering a 3 day randomization wave that will
cause many hierarchies to shuffle and you may find
yourself reading meters for Columbia Gas in a suburb
of Columbus, Ohio.  Or find that you’ve turned into
a FOOD – LODGING exit sign on the highhway.

I howver planned ahead and asked Gumbytron for
intercession that I become a 400 pound white hamster.


All universal IP addresses have been logged prior to
the randomozation, and if you can’t handle your new
assignement, you can follow the tinmeline you were
on for a small monthly fee which will be added to
your cable bill.

Those wishing to continue on with the new protocol
will have the opportunity to see what the new
technology brought to you by Burnt Hamster is
really capable of.

Set you sights on hyperevolutionary transformations!


what do you call a man?
who doesn’t breathe in what he believes?
what do you call a woman?
whose days are spent with timely thieves?

what are we doing?
writing all this nonsense
none will read,
and those who do
have agendas of their own

i have an agenda
a simple one
leave me and mine alone
we have no quarrel with you
no matter how we disagree

your system breeds more of us
than it can imprison
or kill in pointless wars
you can’t poison our babies with your GMOs
cause we are getting wise to who and what you are

so pick a spot
how many of you are there?
i think not as many as you would like to believe
you’ll find yourselves on an island
gold to make the Inca drool
but who will do your bidding now?




Candles (Photo credit: magnuscanis)



robbed of innocence
robbed of life
yet you play among the blood and rubble
looking for a respite from this unrecognizable world

they light candles
for the chosen’s dead,
who will light a candle for your youth?
who will walk among the ruins


of your neighborhood
and take up the cross to rebuild your dreams?

who will take the fight
to the armies of incredulity
that line the Mall?

you do not count
“you” are not like “us”
we do not have to mourn your dead
we have individually wrapped slices of cheese
and guns of our own
do not tread on us
for we are the dreadnought
the juggernaut
we have no time for you

do not ask us how we find the time
to grieve for our own


Hippie Eupocalypse, Day -5.12

The powers that be have always sought to divide the people into more manageable chunks, so over the course of history, they have divided us by language, religion, nation and state.  It’s “us” against “them” except the “us” is “them.”   We are shackled by all the invisible strands of governance whether it is the Father and Mother governing their Children, a priest governing their parishioners, on and on.

It is so instilled in our evolution that we accept that this is the way things are supposed to be.  When we were called to Gumbytron, it was to be like Her, not to be worshiped or pleaded for favors.  All these strands, these shackles, have been useful up to a point.  Why am I rambling…  sermonizing?  In a pious mood I guess…

Invisible strands but not stronger than the power and realm of your imagination.  Not stronger than the strands of love for one, love for all things  UGH, I hate myself when I ramble on like this…  You can do it yourself or seek a guru or rabbi.  Anyway who cares?  What comes from Source returns to Source so it can’t be all bad.

Yesterday, I went to Downertown to see my pops.  He’s Cronos, but somewhere along his journey he forgot that.  He remains steady at the helm of his remote control.  Bottle of Kessler’s.  Max has gotten used to me bringing him Slim Jims.  He searches me now and whines whenever I walk in the door.  It smells like 90 cats in pops’ lil shed he lives in.  I usually reek when I get home.  That’s why I usually only stay a couple hours at most.  I love my pops, even bought him some Febreze, but with 5 Cats and a pit bull in a 2 room 9 X 18 shed, it can be pretty overwhelming.  Pops was immune.  He had long since given up on the chemical war he was having with his cats.

It starts, I guess, when you begin sharing.

ease in

Hockey hockey hockey!


ease yourself in,
dip one toe,
feel the water…

ease into complacency
and join the rest of them
be happy chasing greenbacks
and playing Fantasy Hockey

drink a lot of beer


you know it’s only a latency,
you’re one of them,
you can fade like a flower of obscurity
obscure beauty
a sardine in a tin can

peel back the foil
and drain all the oil
packed in in tenements and suburbs
you’ll make fine appetizers

for the hungry gods you serve…


A song of Praise for Gumbytron

English: A short-haired hamster (named "E...

English: A short-haired hamster (named “Egbert”) sitting in its owner’s hand and eating a piece of carrot. Français : Un hamster mangeant un morceau de carotte dans les mains de son propriétaire. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

OK, the first verse is a chorus and the rest well you know.

Kinda cheesy but hey!

she gave the hamster freedom, will,
their planet she did carry,
she asked for nothing, nothing still,
was fond of Curly, Moe & Larry

she heard one night
of such a plight,
the plight of the earth dwelling human
she tarried not,
packed up her twat
and bounced toward the fire a-zoomin’

shelters o’er here
casinos there
not a light in the eyes of one human
looked by the size
but  zombies and fries
need an a-bomb? call disinfect Truman

no a-bomb she said
just bury the dead
and she cast a peculiar pallor
across, apace,
that great son’s face
she was known for her cunning and valor

coming hither
going tither
the humans all huddled and bonded
twas Gumbytron
who saved the sun
and gave back the joy twas absconded

all humans here
all hamsters there
rejoiced in her beautiful shadow
were filled with awe
from what they saw
they loved her and not cause they had to


Merton the Misfit Mutant

Official logo of London Borough of Merton

Official logo of London Borough of Merton (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

song Lyrics I wrote on the bus from Knoxville TN to Cincinnati OH

Merton the Misfit Mutant

Merton has a secret he doesn’t share
The other mutants know it but they don’t care

He has no superpowers among his genes
He saute’s mutant noodles in his Afro Sheen

Mer-r-r-ton the Mi-isfit Mu-utant

He slithers kinda slowly along the street
He has to slither, see, ’cause he’s got no feet

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

No he can’t fly
he can’t trance
he can’t melt your face with a single glance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant (quickly)

He can’t read minds or make you dance
He cannot tell the future in advance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant (quickly)

Mer-r-r-ton the Mi-isfit Mu-utant


Agnew T. (Goldwater) Pickens

He’s just like the human beings in his town
He baristas at the Starbucks at 5th and Mound

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

No he can’t fly, no he can’t trance
he can’t melt your face off with a single glance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

He can’t read minds or make you dance
He cannot tell the future in advance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

Mer-r-r-ton the Mi-isfit Mu-utant


Mantucky Dreams


carousel_09343 (Photo credit: original_MikZ)

transitory hallucinations and double indemnity fantasies
permeate the cracked edges of Mantucky Park .
condolences to the padre, they padlocked the confessional
and now he’s on the street harassing passersby

two crackheads stop to hear him absolve a homeless drunk
and ask him if he has any money
he laughs and waves them away

the meters along Main Street run backward fast

the parking Nazi pulls out her ticket pad
in anticipation of red flags popping up like poppies
to the music of the Carousel repeating in the distancethe Greek slings his Tadziki and Falafel near the corner,
his line of customers often three or four deep.
seems like the only thing recognizable as food
beneath the Christmas lights

there used to be trolleys
running the length of Main
but they were all pulled up long ago
a lot of the buildings still stand
they make a feeble attempt at a downtown

just a husk,
the Gazebo in the park is lost in ghost whispers
of yesterday

a panel truck makes a delivery at the Mechanics Bank
like it has every day for the last forty of fifty years
some things don’t change

there used to be two Coney Islands downtown
a paradox that no one seemed to notice in Mantucky growing up
we believed we were immortal
would do anything, try anything for a good time
in Jimmy’s Lounge at 16 and 17
eating and drinking whatever came our way

just husks, now, like downtown
seed all shriveled up and dry and blown across the wind
seeing the promise
(more like the lie that we believed)
in younger eyes

how would they know?
no one talks about it any more
let them keep their dreams
while they last

to dream again
and not soak our livers
in rivers of whiskey and drugs

to breathe again
like taking the a breath in cold December

if only…

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