"...Contact"

( From the Secret History of the World. #248. White Sands rocket testing ground 1956.)

"The Aliens are replying to our First Contact message,...it seems,...eh, yes here it is,....?!! "

"...Apparently they want us to Fuck Off."

"...there's also something about,....our little dogs too."

"2023 C.E."

I found a forbidden copy of  "Wild Boys" by the now criminalized 20th century author William Burroughs. This in a used book stall. I'm amazed there's one still around. I mean after the "Literary Purity, and Religious Freedom Act" was passed. I paid in Bitcoin script, and hid it under my shirt. I took it home turned out all the lights. I climbed into my hall closet with a flash light. I crouch, and slowly open to the first page.

Suddenly police dogs barking a chopper hovering overhead with search lights stabbing through the curtains. The sound of boots stomping up my building's stairs.

Life in Tomorrowland.

"Obit."

Hugh Hefner founder of "Playboy" magazine died today at 348 years old. He is mourned many generations of 12 year old boys who received a profoundly distorted, and destructive idea of sexuality from his empire of flesh.

He is cursed by generations of girls, and women who received a lifetime of physical, and emotional abuse from those 12 year old boys. This as they grew into confused hostile maturity with deluded violent fantasies of sexuality.

This thanks to the media empire created by the now mostly dead Mr. Hefner.

It is also reported that his dog "Nostromo" hated him.


An Addendum.

"Bob the Bunny" through his legal team states that he "Mr. Bunny" at no time had any contact legal financial or personal with the late Mr. Hefner his national organization or any Hefner overseas business subsidiaries.

Any likeness between "Mr. Bunny", and any "Playboy" corporate images logo or banners is entirely coincidental. These in no way expresses any connection between Playboy Inc, and Mr. "Bob the Bunny", and his various interests.

"Radio Daze"

"Gosh honey that's some weird shit on there tonight."

Thinking of my radio past. I remember sometimes some of the gang when we were all on together,...we had separate programs. However from time to time we'd end up at the station at the same time, and would end up on the air in the middle of the night.

Management didn't care at all about after mid-night shows. They figured being the Commie/Nazi/PC shit heads they were. That all good comrade listeners were asleep so the could get up early to work at the people's tractor factory.

This was fine by us.

This lack of interest in what the PC crowd called the "Bad Element" gave us the freedom to do some of the best overnight radio in the New York market. We proudly called ourselves "The Bad Elephants".

There was a downside. When the mainstream press found out about some of us this could get one canceled. We had the understanding that if we let the New York Times culture page interview any of us it was the kiss of death.

It was.

A few months later we would be canceled. Reasons unofficially given was that we'd no longer served the "People". Yeah at that place towards the turn of the century, and later was run by left extreme dirt bags...which is how they went bankrupt. From snazzy Wall Street offices, and studios. They now cower in a one non-sound proof studio back office in Brooklyn.

However they still serve the revolution.

They went from the most listened to FM station in NY. Which we were when I joined up in the late 1970's. To a station whose audience numbers cannot be put on a chart it's so tiny. Last I hears they have a combined listenership of 3000 individual listeners per week,...that's a week, not an hour.

Some one should tell them a 1970's radical, and pc race revolution format won't sell. Even their grudgingly allowed gay show sucks shit. As the last Art Director said before that department was abolished. "What kind of Queers are these? They don't even like Show Music!"

Btw I know all this will only be of interest to the few out there that were fans of this un-named station. That's okay I'm just venting.

Anyway what I wanted to say about my pals getting together on the air at the same time is that in the middle of whatever serious or weird things we were doing we'd suddenly Howl like wolves together.

"We Howled Brightly Loudly into the Dark Mid-Night with Joy!"

I just remembered this.

Sorry for all the grim history of stupid management...it comes up when I think of them times.

There were more happy things. We used to have Bar-B-Q's on the roof in snow storms we went together to the nude beach every summer...we were a lot younger then, and worth looking at. We had as guests the who's who of the arts, and weird politics of the era.

That, and we 'never' celebrated Mugabe's birthday which the daytime comrades did every year.

I don't know who, but somebody called the FBI on a bunch of fuck heads at the station few days after 9/11.

Some one dropped a dime on them traitors that were praising on air the terrorist that crashed planes into the Towers. Saying as how their heroes hit "the belly of the beast", and how "we deserved it".

Really even the busboys that jumped,...their clothes on fire as they did?

Really?

Gee who could have done that. ...dropped that dime? FBI with cops, and all came to visit the comrades. That was really too bad.

Aw well.

Meanwhile we Howled with Free Spirited Delight into the Night!

"Which of these is not like the Other?"

It's a trick question,...they're the same. Well in 2128 C.E. they will be.

The New York Times just ran a piece by David Brooks which went on from an overview of history. Basically Abbie Hoffman, and Herr Trump are the same. My old comrades of the far left...even middle left went apoplectic over this. "How dare they..." sort of stuff. Nothing like pissing on a cult saint to bring out the parishioners.

Stepping back, and putting whatever cult bubble we're stuck in aside. Yeah these two figures Abbie, and Donny are alike.

I think this will be more apparent many generations from now. This when those that lived through the cultures wars are gone. ...eh, that's us. Then historians will see things not clouded with emotions of the current eras.

Both of these persons were wild cards with no concept of the true effect of their behavior. One from the Reagan leisure class one from the idealistic Kennedy era. Both throwing wrenches into the body politic with no clear understanding of the effect, and on the whole different degrees with each not caring.

Before you reflexively start which is what social platforms encourage...this is what them Russian Bots were so good at during the election. Putting that aside if possible. Remember I said that it would take "generations" for these characters to be seen by most as similar.

I'm old enough finally to see the little worlds we inhabit, and think it's the universe.

Ya know if ya lucky you might get old too!

On the other pages where I posted a version of this. My comrades seemed incapable of transcending their partician views. That is it seems difficult for some to see beyond the past or present. They're trapped in an eternal now, and how they feel now.

I had to repeat several times I was speaking about how future generations would see these two cultural wildcard figures. All they could do was say how great Abbie was, and how evil Trump is. Not getting the larger historic arc I was trying to illustrate.

These guys represent the same radical impulses of the American culture expressed in profoundly different ways.

My commie comrades, and several rightwing pals both get an F- on transcending historic place. They being a bit stuck in their territorial bubbles.. Hey I ain't so damned smart, but I see where this is going. Thank you,...my t-shirts weird hats, and CDs are at the back of the hall. I'll be here all weekend tell ya friends.

Now from the comments my explanation of this apparently inexplicable to many post.

( This from my dear comrade fan of this page "Anonymous".)

Anonymous said...

Certainly they were/are both kultural/media klowns. But you do seem to ignore one small fact: one became president of the United States while the other disappeared into obscurity.

I've run into the same point on FB. Here's my ten times longer that the original post explanation which was originally posted in Facebook..

*My weary reply:

Well it seems that some are reluctant to transcend their partician views. That is it seems difficult for some to see beyond the past or present. They're trapped in an eternal now, and how they feel now. I'm talking the arc of history.

What the future will see of all this.

I had to repeat several times on other pages I was speaking about how future generations would see these two cultural wildcard figures. Abbie, and Donny. All they could do was say how great Abbie was, and how evil Trump is. Not getting the larger historic arc I was trying to illustrate.

These guys represent the same radical impulses of the American culture expressed in profoundly different ways. Abbie for example wasn't president with control of the federal government. Yet he had a profound influence on a relatively small part of the nation...30%. Sound familiar. However that spilled into the general population. In that he out did the feds of that time. He changed part of our national culture.

Trump has a 30% lemming population as well.

This with also an overlap into the well of the masses of the nation. No these folks ain't exactly the same, but they represent the same radical impulse...get it. Just expressed in a seriously different way...again get it?

Think as I sez from the point of view of say folks in 2130. When all or most of the culture war survivors are gone.

Also with them the passions they refused to let go of.

That future generation will see us, and our passionate bullshit very differently. Because they will 'not' be blinded by the emotion that drowns 'reason' out of 'us'.
I mean how many out there are still outraged by the Bull Moose party or the bullshit the Wigs did?

*It goes on as my comrades didn't at all get what I was on about. All they knew was that they liked Abbie, and hated Trump. So I took another swing at it.

*Look I said,....

They both wanted radical change. They both come from the impulse of the radical nature of the American experiment...which as we know to our horror is still in progress. That Abbie was radical left, and Donny is Nazi right in immaterial.

They both sailed the same radical sea, and both may ultimately give us a monumental nation destroying disaster.

Abbie with his continuing effect now morphed beyond recognition into leftwing balkanized ethnic racial cultural identity cults, and Donny the exact same, but from the right. ...same likely disaster ahead.

Then again as you all say I could be totally wrong. The mice are the ones really in charge.
They set us up against each other while they quietly plan.

*Even this didn't work!

*This as they stood blank faced saying "Abbie was cool Trump is bad".
So I gave it one more try. That is trying to get these fucking commie cultists to see beyond their here, and now passions, and try to imagine how all this demented mayhem would look several generations from now.
Fucking dummies they just couldn't let go of their tribal culture war cultism's.

*Here we go again.

I say again. That they shared the 'same' radical impulse that has powered the American experiment. The Confederates also were powered by this. This is what makes that national radical Impulse so dangerous, but needed. Needed because it also gave energy to Dr. King's radical movement as well.

Call it American Kryptonite. Insanely powerful yet profoundly dangerous in the wrong hands.

*Yeah I got posts even after this saying, "...but Abbie was progressive how can you say he's like Trump."

Sigh....Completely totally missed the point.

I was amazed at the power of two dimensional thinking. They just 'could not' break through to see how we might look in the future. They were nailed to the present.
These were educated progressives at that.

Their adherence to their tribal sacraments saints, and rules is iron clad. They should never put down the fucking yokels for their Jesus flag, and guns crap because these arrogant commie jerks are no better.

With that I walked away.

Well okay I did looks to see if 'anyone' got my point. No. There were maybe a dozen posts saying. "This is crazy how can you say Abbie was like Trump."

There's no point.

So long as the cults of the culture wars exist we're locked into madness stupidity suspicion, and in an as yet unarmed civil war.

"Ephemeral"

I've been dreaming about my decades long career in broadcast. Specifically dreams about doing shows. Much as soldiers dream of wars conductors dream of concerts, and mystics children dream of gawds.

Just now I dreamed of being in studio with old friends. Some of them now gone. It made me wonder if we did any good. Did we help at all?

I hope we did I think we did. I mean in that time for those people. I think yes.

It doesn't matter if we're not personally remembered. In the that medium it's rare that anyone is. Our contact was intimate, and on the whole to the good. As we best we understand the "good". In the sort of performance we gave. A kind no longer really done. A one on one with a person in the deep of night...you, and them.

Each member of the audience was being spoken to individually. It was a command performance for folks in the sanctuary of their most private places.

I told stories from my life, and related them to the world as it was then. I wrote stories, and performed them. I deliberately played music that I both loved, and hoped would help the folks get through the night. We did this. There was a whole crew of unique brilliant people speaking into the night. We shared intimate space for a few hours in the depths of dark once twice or several times a week for yes decades.

Margot Adler whom some of you know from NPR started at the same public station I served. I remember things I heard from her on the air that she said near 40 years ago, and they still matter.

What we did mattered.

I have no awards or trophy's. These were rare in the era I worked in. Now there are awards ceremonies in the industry for wiping your butt, and flushing. What we have. What we were given is more ephemeral, and more lasting. We touched hearts souls. We informed were informed gave laughter hope rage confusion insight the whole catalogue. 

It was what it was, and still lives in those that were there to share it.

Amen.

An Addendum.

( Performers, actors real on the stage actors amaze me. They can transform into another being. The do so right before your eyes.  This much as Shamans did. They changed into the animals their tribe was hunting. 

Their stages their props survive today as the flowing cave paintings still being discovered. There's a straight line from them to the sagas to the story bards to the likes of my broadcast comrades, ...even in a way to me.)

"Water Damage"

The Contractors are here banging the hell out of my digs. See left as they cut new blocks for my bathroom wall. Swell guys. Russians, and Haitians. I loves New York! The latest drama is that two main lines cracked in this 114 year old, I think, building. I 'm guessing the lines went in during the 1960's sometime. Anyway they went. A lot of water damage in my bathroom, and kitchen...the cabinets are half down.

This is a 3 year long saga.  Many smaller disasters leading to this. It finally got so bad that major work 'had' to be done. Btw one contractor asked if I had just moved in? I had to laugh. This is because my digs are fairly empty now.

I've never had much here.

Since early summer I've been taken with winnowing things down even more. I've emptied my kitchen totally. Nothing there, but the fridge, and stove. That whole world that used to live around, and on my fridge,...buttons posters toys notes...all gone. See image of former inhabitants below.

Being an Artist Commie Queer dangerous type I couldn't help it. I 'had' to put shit up. However now all the magnets cards sheets of notes stuff, and toys on, and around are gone. Part of it is I think a notion given all my health crap that it may be "closing time" soon. They told me all that Diabetes stuff is taking 10 years off my life span,...then they tells me them operations they were so eager to do will "save my immediate life", but "shorten" my life span.

What?!

So I don't want a lot of weird stuff around for the family to deal with. You know the scene, "Oh my gawd!!! Look at what that maniac has in 'this' box!!" "Back Door Daddy!" volumes one to fifty eight. "...Illustrated!!!" That's one notion. The other is I'm just happier in an uncluttered space. ...always was.

Hey I'm fine, and I'm getting a new bathroom, and kitchen,...win win.

"Lock, and Load!!"

Remember UFO Season Opens October 3rd!

Be Ready!

Ya might be needing one 'a these sweet hearts.

I've bought down my share of them damned bug eyed bastards with it!

Three double AAA's, and ya good ta go!

Good shoot'n Comrades!

"Piranha"

Is it me or are more people shooting up churches malls high schools subways sidewalks, and fucking dollar stores. The Dollar stores I don't get.  The whole point of them places is that everybody that goes there is fucking broke or afraid they're about to be.

Which means there's No Money There!!

What the fuck? Anyway while sitting here with my aged life draining away. I  notice that there's another bloody church shoot out by some desperate flash backing veteran junkie white nationalist ex-nun crack head deranged housewife queer basher laid off factory worker bankrupt accountant pissed off 7-11 clerk religious nut.

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

Anyway I glance at the piece, and yeah the usual. One wonders why these nutters don't get creative. Ya know unleash a hundred giant air breathing running Piranha loose in a Jewish daycare center during holy week.

Ya know something interesting that would get folks who are calmly reading about the genocides of the day to stop, and say, "Wow that was weird".

It would kinda make worthwhile being blasted to shreds by state police who come to the perp's house, and shoot him 480 times with 9mm hollow bore rounds. Then the more enthusiastic officers go at him with their military grade repeater shotguns that Trump just let all the cops in the country have.

I have a retro vision of "Mayberry RFD" with deputy "Barney Fife" hosing down some Civil Rights workers with that super multi-barreled belt-fed 250 round hyper shot gun.

Then Sheriff "Andy" drives up in his classic 1962 Ford police cruiser.

He jumps out, and sez to "Barney".

"You stupid trash pecker wood mammy jammer moron now ya done it!"  "Them fucking Nigger loving New York Jew Queer beatnik lawyers are gonna be on us like lice in a trailer park!!"

But I digress.

Hard times I guess to leads to hard events. Folks is losing it pretty bad in this country. In fact the whole dame place has gone seriously fucking barking at the moon while sodomizing a blood relative nuts. We're huddled behind our barricades hoping that they kill butcher, and eat the folks next door, and not us. This ain't the 21st century some of us was banking on.

'Ol George Jetson wouldn't make it halfway down the block without getting stopped frisked gutted skinned, and put in a grey market meat pattie luncheon pack. I see these btw all the time now. Mystery food from companies no one ever heard of.

However bleep it the price is right, and people are hungry. "Mommie there's a piece of finger in my sandwich. "Shut up,...give it to the dog."

Yep. Stars, and Stripes forever.

"Addendum"

This from the comments. Some comrades misunderstood thinking I wanted to shoot up my dear Dino comrades,...far from it.

"I've always felt when world peace or our enslavement by ironically humored space aliens...which is pretty much the same thing. Anyway I always thought when organized murder is gone. We should keep some of the hardware to play with."

"I'd love to fly a vintage F-102 Cold War fighter straight up at Mach 2."

"Yeah now ya talking!"

"Dinos, & P-40s",...Loves it!

"On Your Own"

I was on a chat where the problem of how to get by if you woke up as the only likely person still on the planet. Well they may be others, but survivors are widely separated. Say out of the current 7 Billions of folks you wake up on an earth with 6 thousand. This scattered all over the globe.

Well first things first. Where do they keep the antibiotics in drug stores? Also how do I get fresh water for the rest of my life. This is the sort of stuff a person would be working on. This assuming that Zombies or crazed bikers gangs don't also survive close by, and show up to ruin your day.

Water would be easy at first as the water system will run for some time. At least till the pumps, and power lasts. If you're in a region with hydroelectric you're good for a few years. Most other places only a few weeks to a month.

One must learn to think long term,...very long term. Your life depends on it. This is why so-called primitive folks tend to do this. End of the quarter thinking in this environment will be very fatal. So very long term planning if one wants to go on. However,...

Profound mourning, grievous loss would be a big part of your empty world. At least at first. If one learns to live with this lonely reality the practicalities will assert itself. A safe place to live. Did the wildlife come through the event. If so you'll need to learn to hunt some. Eventually protection from them. Canned or dried food is only good for at most five years. You'll have to be a farmer/hunter. If you're an urbanite you'll have to learn these skills. This can be done with experience, and reading. Life in the city will be too dangerous in a year or less. Find a cabin. Good drainage a field of fire...just in case. Tools seeds a root cellar all the preindustrial basics will have to be done. If you've had a basic education, and paid attention you'll know what books you need for this.

I think a very young person of the 21st century may not make it past two or three years. They wouldn't even know what questions to ask. They'll die of infection or food poisoning. Perhaps even a predator attack. I'd say the best survivor would be in their mid 20's to their early 50's. Before or after that it gets seriously dicey. So food water shelter. Btw the commercial seeds will start to go bad certainly within six to ten years. This is why a medium plot farm will be your savior. You'll need to harvest not just the crops, but their seeds, and have a surplus of a year perhaps two of dried veggies or fruit.

Prepare for storms or other natural disasters that could wipe your homestead out. again take care where you decide to settle. You'll learn that a flood plain is called that for a reason. Be near a stream not a  river. These flood. Fish will be a major calorie source. Do art. paint draw write sing dance this will keep you both sane, and physically healthy. Me I would do one man portrayals of the classics, as well as commercials...this especially from the 1950's. This would amuse, and center one's sanity. Remember you are alone in this world. Except for your cats, and hunting dogs.

Our survivor might go exploring from time to time. Maybe going to towns for new tools or perhaps items to amuse. He may have a classic Land Rover he keeps up for this. This is what I'd have. A good four wheel drive all terrain ride. This could last for some years. After the gasoline no longer clicks. A Rover can use other mixtures...so I've read.

Although one would have to know where you were, and how to get back to your homestead if you broke down. Remember there is 'no one else'. Only 'you' can save you. How long one lives will be the same as with our ancestors...dumb luck, and your hard work. If the survivor was say 26 at the time of the Event. We'll again with "luck' he or she could live into their 50's certainly...that is if they wanted to. 

A possible reason to go on would be company.

12 years into this farming hunting gathering performing artistic life perhaps a change. A hunter gatherer group might pass through the area. This unlike in the films, and books would be a pleasant encounter. You'll trade laugh fuck, and they'll move on. Though now they know you're there, and they come back a few times a year as their journeys take them through the region.

In time others might show up. Same thing laugh perform some plays for them trade fuck, and they move on. One day some of these bands come back with your sons or daughters. I can see an annual solstice meeting of clans developing as your children, and grandchildren return to your homestead for the festival. I can see myself taking my extended distant families around the farm in my aged Land Rover. The little ones amazed having never seen a car actually running.
So humanity at least in the first post Event generations live in peace. In the future villages towns city states.

Though this time we might get it right.

"A day in the Life",...well their lives.

"A Second Look"

There is good in all. Even it may one day be seen in our friend the 45th President. As strange leaders go he's benign. Before you freak out. Benign by 20th/21st century standards. By long historical standards he's a Saint.

                                      Glance through history, and you'll see.

I mean so far he hasn't exterminated, and or enslaved whole nation's, and peoples...though he has annoyed most of the world. Done that, and encouraged the worst parts of the republic. I say this to put our current strange state of the nation in perspective.

It has been profoundly worse.

It's infinitely worse as I post in most of the world.  So chill. Chill. Calm down. Vote in the mid-terms then vote in 2020. That how it's done here. All the chaos frightful trends dark forecasts awfulness, and boring crap on TV is not the end of the world. In fact much of the world if they had our problems would think it was heaven on earth.

Compare Somali poverty to our Rust Belt or Urban underclass, and you'd see what I'm saying. Neither is how human beings should be made to live. However so far our level of 'want' still outstrips the alternatives. Here at least we have something to work with to heal it. I was going to say at least our poor have clean water. However that is becoming no longer true. Still we have real reason for hope. Hope in that the majority of the people here want this suffering fixed as fast as possible.

Our government does not.

Not so much because they're evil. Although I've seen a few individuals across the spectrum that fill the bill. It's mostly just traditional inertia stupidity greed, and uniformed choices.  We have a confused divided dysfunctional government. We also have to power to change the whole mess into something slightly less fucked up.

That is the Hope.

So chill...I'm trying to.

"An Afternoon Tea"

Odd I just had a thought. An animated film. A fictitious afternoon in the life of James Baldwin. Perhaps his meeting Walt Whitman outside of the 42nd street Library. The story goes from there. They might meet John Donne in Chinatown.

Our heroes decide to have a light lunch of dumplings, and green tea. It's a crisp mid-fall afternoon in October 1962. The unlikely meeting hardly surprises them. They being mystics all assume such is to be expected from time to time,...so to speak.

"This electricity how you so depend on it" said John investigating his dumplings. "I saw it's beginnings" said Walt.

"I hardly notice it" grumbled James.

"I should have got a Coke, and a pack of Chesterfields"

There was a sudden rumble the floor shook. They looked up.

The sky was on fire.

"This is where I came in"

said Dunne not at all surprised.

"Our War"

Ken Burns is getting static for his new PBS series on the Vietnam War. This is completely understandable. Because so many are still here that were/are personally involved with that era. Many millions on all sides of that drama are still very much here, and still have profoundly strong sentiments about it.

I have personally felt that the real history of that war will not be rightly told until the Vietnam generation is gone. Until all that planned it fought in it or tried to stop it have passed away. Until then the story cannot be objectively told.

We are just still too emotionally damaged to be remotely rational about it no matter which side of it you're on. Everything we say about it now today. We do as ongoing 'participants' in the war. What we do, and say even now will eventually be incorporated into the saga of the War because we're 'still' fighting it.

This story can only be told by future writers journalists, and artists. Those whose hands are clean of our history. They will tell our story.

"The Future is Here"

There’s a country-sized problem in the north Pacific Ocean: a patch of trash has grown to the size of France. So the environmental charity Plastic Oceans Foundation has paired up with the news and entertainment publication LadBible to campaign for it to be recognized as an official country.

The campaign claims that, under Article 1 of the 1993 Montevideo Convention on the rights and duties of states, a country must be able to: define a territory, form a government, interact with other states, and have a permanent population.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch has well-defined borders, and it’s easy to create a government and institutions for interacting with others. Now with former US vice president Al Gore signing up as the country’s first citizen and more than 100,000 signing the petition to be granted citizenship, the campaign has submitted its application earlier this month to the United Nations to recognize the Trash Isles as the world’s 196th country.

"Aw Shit!"

I just saw a post on a comrade's page. It was about how ungrateful some are when you help them. They even give you shit. Thing is you don't stop helping them, and others.

Helping doing what's right, and good is not for a reward. The Nuns, at least to me, implied there's rewards in our divine bank accounts for every Mitzvah/good deed we do.

It 'really' doesn't work that way.

One has a vision of a vast celestial bank of "Good Deeds" attended by angelic investment specialists racking up tons of holy interest for every time you don't trip a blind person or not say the "N" word. These are 'not' rewarded...you're supposed to 'not' do these things.

Anyway "good" in it's many meanings is just what you do or try to.

Amen,...pretty much.

This a reply from my dear radio pal Tom Wisker:

Imagine Heaven's Administrative Annex, with tens of thousands of angel-accountants sitting in Celestial Cubicles, with harp Muzak playing as they work their abacuses and make quill-pen entries in huge, leather-bound ledgers.

My take on the whole thing:

Right I go the Amalgamated Heavenly Paradise Bank Ltd. asking to make a small withdrawal. I wander into the place ask directions then five angel cops slam me against the wall do a cavity search take blood samples then scan my brain with some space alien thing. They drag me semi-conscious to a steel walled room with one light bulb hanging from it's rusted ceiling. An angel in a Nazi-like black uniform, with a gold dollar sign on his peaked cap enters.

He looks at me with contempt, and sits at the desk in front of where I bleeding, and dazed am kneeling. He's given my file by an attendant who is dressed as Peter Pan. (???)

He begins, "I understand you want to make a withdrawal". I mumble my mouth full of broken teeth. He continues. "This is most irregular." ...he sniffs turning the pages of my file. I try to say, "...all I wanted was..." "Silence!" the angelic Inspector General barked!!

Two bully boy angel cops enter the Inspector nods in my direction.

I come to a week later in the bank's surgery. There's a Demon nurse drinking the blood samples standing over me. "Am I in Hell?" I ask.

"No you're still on Heaven's banking level. We fill in as temps." "The banking, and violent authority culture here agrees with us." "Can I eat your liver?"

Just then some angel intern comes over shoos away the demon looks at my charts, and sez, "...well another withdrawal case." "You can't normally withdraw if you're still mortal,...you know that right?"

To which I say "...what?' ...then fart.

"Aw crap a code brown,...ya not gonna shit ya self are ya,...no?" "Code blue!" "...another walk in" "Look pal there a system. You got a heartbeat so no dice. Eh you got a note from da Lawd or one of his team,...no? Sorry pal you gotta go home. I'll call dispatch to send you back to whatever shithole you came from. Let's see,...eh,...wow the U.S.A. in the early 21st?!" "Boy are you in for it"

Me, "...what?"

I was then sent to Hell by mistake. Man what a swell place. Parties great music cool cars folks from all history booze dope boys or whatever the whole swell deal!. Everybody cool is there too. My secret boyfriend from summer camp sees me smiles, and is coming over. He's still 13, and now so am I.

I asks if I can stay, but some demon cop sez something about the "Mortal's Prohibition Act", and  sprayed me with Heroin gas. I come to in front of my keyboard with the implanted notion that this whole thing is just a stupid post I'm working on.

Shit!

(To be continued...going to the deli.)