Sunday, February 22, 2026

Stand!

 A couple of years ago one of my nieces, the one who lives in Minnesota, was visiting her mother’s church in Alabama. The pastor of this church claims to operate in the realm of prophecy. He has long hair and wears a long leather coat and plays electric guitar in the church band. His interpretation of scripture is strange, often surreal, and focused on a combination of prosperity gospel and apocalypse. The church is a family business much like the church I was raised in, in that the whole family is involved in the preaching and singing, only they are reportedly raking in millions, unlike First Baptist of Palm Beach Gardens. My mother had a job at Pratt and Whitney and was the principal breadwinner. My sister played piano. Taught Sunday school. 

And my parents were lifelong Democrats. This other church is of the pro-Trump faith, comparing him to King David because he is anointed and somehow fulfilling the End Times prophecies of the pastor. 

Such is their confusion.


When my niece visited, one of the self proclaimed prophets was behind the pulpit, alarming the congrégation with scary stories about children becoming transgender furries due to satanic plots in public schools, repeating stories our President tells at his rallies and in the Oval Office and  in bed on his phone and talking in his sleep, constantly rehearsing and revising a mythology that explains the universe to his followers, a universe with Donald Jesus Christofascist Trump at the center.


The person who was teaching that day told a story about a man whose child said he identified with a cat, so the father supposedly commanded his child to sleep in the barn and eat mice. This must have got a laugh from the congregation but my niece was horrified. She jumped up and shouted Bullshit! She accused them of condoning child abuse. She told them she is both a mother and a schoolteacher and what these fake prophets were saying about public schools was false. Then gave the church a two fisted double bird flip and left the building.


I heard about this incident from her, her brother, and her mother. The family was in disagreement about it, but I thought she did the right thing. My sister said she was proud of her for taking a stand. She told me that she and her husband raised their kids to think independently.  But my sister still believed in Trump.

I think her church gave her a sense of community and belonging.


When Betty was in her last days we didn’t argue about Trump anymore. I postponed visiting her because I don’t like flying and we’d seen each other in Chautauqua a few years ago (I took a bus). I knew if I went to her church the Holy Spirit might demand I make an even bigger scene. Betty and I said our goodbyes on the phone.


Betty died before she could vote to re-elect Trump. She admired Marjorie Taylor Green. MTG’s rethinking of her opinion of Trump over the Epstein Files helps me to wonder if my sister might have also had a change of heart about some things. Would she have listened to the survivors? Green said that the President told her if he released all the files unredacted his friends would be hurt. His friends in the Epstein class. I want to believe that at some point in the last year some line was crossed, some hearts changed, but I don’t know if the spell will soon be broken. He still has supporters.


It is no oversight that some of the President’s friends´ names were redacted from the files released so far. And I am certain that it was no accident that the names of some of the Epstein/Trump survivors were not redacted. It is a deliberate act of retaliation by Trump. He is punishing the accusers and intimidating any witnesses who have not yet spoken.


If you don’t understand why those girls let themselves be dominated and degraded by the creep in the White House you need to understand that we are all letting ourselves be dominated and degraded by a corrupt and cruel system. The Epstein/Trump crimes and the continued coverup disgraces the nation.


I thought what my niece did was comparable to the Gospel story of Jesus acting up in The Temple. Jesus warned he would divide families and start intergenerational warfare. Maybe God chose her to do a necessary prophetic action because I chickened out.  I thought of her when the protest in a church in St. Paul was in the news and Don Lemon was arrested for committing an act of journalism.  If Jesus of Nazareth walked into that Trump cult church and started to teach about loving the stranger and loving your neighbors, actual Bible teaching, that ICE preacher would’ve had him killed or deported. 


Cruelty is the style of the Trump Cult. They have no good ideas. No New Deal. No New Frontier. No Morning in America. Just the political equivalent of a low budget exploitation movie, a splatter flick. Just cheap shocks to fill the screens of our information devices. Fascist porn.


America is a disgrace. We need to change. In evangelical terms, we need to repent. The people of Minneapolis are doing what they can. My niece has been participating in the resistance and bearing witness. Many people are doing what they can.


Where do you draw the line ?

When will you change your mind?

When will you stand up?

When will I?




Liberty on ice.

   























Friday, January 30, 2026

The New Common Sense


Waxing gibbous up there almost egg shaped, looks like it’s giving birth to itself.

The Doomsday Clock now says eighty five seconds to midnight.


It’s cold and my numb finger jabs at my phone, poking at the alphabet, trying to form meaning. Fight fascism with mere words, write the Facebook post that will change everything. Two hundred fifty years ago Thomas Paine published a pamphlet that brought down an empire. Something to aspire to.


In Minneapolis the Resistance is showing force in subzero cold. I wish I  was home, in my steam heated cave, but I feel I should be doing something.

The term inflection point is used a lot these days. Turning point, tipping point, points of no return. How many points of light will it take to reach critical mass?

It is easy to imagine ten million of us filling the streets of Washington DC and forcing the government to represent the people instead of oligarchs, creating democracy in America, changing the regime.

Knock on the White House door. We are here to make a citizen’s arrest. We are here to enforce the Constitution.

We demand that the government obey the law.


I am a brain worm and I will get inside Trump’s head because it’s the only way to get him out of mine. I don’t want to eat his miserable brain. I imagine his mind tastes like a clump of rotten Big Macs left on the front seat of a car for week. 

We will feed him the New Common Sense. You call it a Derangement Syndrome, fine, call me The Lone Deranger. Cue up the William Tell Overture, isn’t it Romantic? 

I don’t wear a mask like Trump’s ICE thugs and I am unarmed. My only weapon is my numb index finger jabbing at the screen like a maniac.

This post has to change everything.


  

Sunday, January 18, 2026

We have whistles. They have guns.





Good is dead


The bold broadcaster goes forth and back across and around this Troubled Earth broadly casting magic spores from a big bag slung over his shoulder 

This diaspora is scattered randomly in the air and on the ground, mostly lost in the winds but a chosen few spores spill into the cracks of broken heads


Good is dead



We have whistles

We have whistles

We have whistles and they have guns

Good is dead


You have reasons 

You have reasons 

You have reasons you say

There are reasons you say

To shoot a woman close range three times

 

And Good  is  dead


You have reasons without Reason, unreasonable thought habits, reflexes, and ingrained fallacies that have made a mess of your map of the world and you call it the gospel of Christ

Well

You have your Christ and I have mine 

We watch the same video and see different things, I guess, or you are being dishonest, or you think I am just a stupid lying knee jerk libtard 


I don’t know what to do to speak to your mind and open your heart


We are not just talking about politics 

We are not just talking politics

The shooting has already started

You see a different scene, a heroic Christian patriot law enforcement officer threatened by a leftwing terrorist

because you believe what you are told when the man you voted for is telling you what you see and your friends tell you what you see or your spouse tells you or your preacher tells you that you are supposed to see this is holy work to cleanse the Nation of filthy refugees 

 

The woman in the car is a lesbian terrorist and the man with the gun and the mask is doing the Lord’s work and when he said “Fucking bitch” after he killed her it was his way of saying “Jesus loves you”


Good is dead

 

God save us

God save us

God save us 

I pray God saves us from your Nazi Christ.



Saturday, January 10, 2026

Antifascism is pro-democracy




I don’t know what to do with this anger.
This is what I’m doing with this anger.
It’s Friday, January 9; 2026, 7:08pm and I have been watching the videos.
You know which videos.
The ICE agent Jonathan Ross executing a woman on a street in Minneapolis. Shot Renee Good point blank three times in the head after letting himself get lightly bumped by her slow moving car, stepping in front of her slow moving car, so he could fake an assault charge and kill her. That’s what I see in these videos.
They will say she rammed him and he feared for his life.
They don’t care if we know they’re lying. They want to incite riots.
They want to replay 2020 so they can send the paramilitary masked men in to kill people and break things.
I see the Trump government sending ICE into cities to provoke violence so he can declare martial law.
He already says his authority is only limited by his morality.
If we ever see the Epstein Files we might begin to see the extent of his immorality.
We already know he is a rapist and a fraud and he only cares about his depraved ego project and the accumulation of profit.
This is fascism, folks.
I believe Donald Trump will burn the country down, if we don’t stop him now. Impeachment is not enough. The entire administration has to go.
He sent his militarized thugs into cities where there were uprisings in 2020 during the George Floyd protests.
He wanted to send the military then, but the generals said No.
So he created his own paramilitary whose only law is the Will of Trump and whose only limits are Trump’s morality. He has no morals, so he has no limits.
We know who the domestic terrorists are.
We know their names.
Noem, Vance, Patel, Bondi, Stephen Miller, Rubio, Hegseth, and their leader, Donald Jackoff Trump.
These are the domestic terrorists. These names and everyone who voted for him. All of MAGA.
I’ve seen real terrorism and I am not afraid of these pathetic creeps.
What’s to fear?
They can’t kill me. I’m already dead and I will never die, according to a poem I wrote a long time ago.
They are sick and would be happy to kill us, but I am sure we outnumber the fascists.
This is a time to decide which side you are on.
No middle ground.
If you are not antifascist, you are fascist.
And if you are a fascist —
Fuck You

Sunday, December 07, 2025

Dancers on the surface of an abyss



The last chapter will reveal all. 


All the twists and turns of my odyssey will be untangled and woven together into the complex tapestry of this mixed metaphor of my life.


I am not ready to think about how this story could end and sent to the printer and all the pages bound into a book. Bound like a hostage and placed on a remainder table with the other literary remains.


Instead of a physical object made of ink and paper there might only be a collection of unbound electronic messages in a cloud.


 I like to imagine one of these messages striking like lightning, lighting the sky and crashing into the earth and really shaking people up. Waking them up from this collective anxiety dream.


It might be news of something that happened a quarter of a century past, I don’t know. I don’t want a story that is like one of those celebrity bios where the only interesting part is in the beginning and tells how I happened to do the thing that made me famous and the rest of the book is a boring slog through ordinary life with occasional celebrity appearances and recipes.


If I become famous I might never know about it. I need to appreciate obscurity and learn to function in the dark. 


I don’t know how to prove I have an immortal soul and I don’t know how to prove I don’t have an immortal soul, any more than I can imagine the limits of the universe or the beginning and end of space and time and what possible initial situation preceded the birth of the cosmos. 


Imagine your soul was conceived simultaneously with everything else in a Big Bang or small whimper in the void.


Scenarios for an unending afterlife sound wearisome and unsatisfactory, even as an infinite series of reincarnations, of possible births, lives, and deaths, perhaps learning from my successes and failures and evolving, also seem unsatisfactory, but maybe the point of existence isn’t satisfaction, because satisfactions are contingent, and some say one can be liberated from the wearisome life and death cycle through the cessation of craving but I don’t know, I don’t know.


Some people believe we are living in the last chapter of history and that prophecies written in the Christian Bible are being fulfilled, signs of the End Times are appearing. When the Bible was being edited and the canon was being established the inclusion of the book of Revelation was controversial. It’s position at the end makes it seem like the conclusion of a narrative begun with Genesis, as if written by the same author at a desk in Eternity, rather than a collection of documents organized by a committee.


When people invented books they began to imagine that the world is a book and a human life is a book. We now live in a time when books are no longer books.


Read the chapters of my story in any order, the book of my life is unbound.

The pages fall like snow from the clouds.



Sunday, November 23, 2025

Three paintings and two texts

 





Star flower and king ego pursued by skeleton 



Paradise Now



 
Behold Neuroplastic Man!


The city is the soul writ large

the city is the cosmos writ small 


The city is a transmigrant soul

cycling through cycles, circles and spirals 

evolving and revolving through the generations and regenerations

the tragedies and farces of history


Our cities will be training grounds, the farcical dictator says

Chicago, Portland, Memphis, Philadelphia, New York

are training grounds

What are we training for?

What uncivil war?


The real war is invisible the real war is in the soul and the city is the soul writ large

The enemy is coming with guns and tanks and boots on the ground 

 AI bomber shitzkriegs and crypto currency scams 

nationalist idols and corporate control 


While Mammon eats at the law like a brain worm feasting on a lunatic

pardoning the guilty and incarcerating the innocent 

Bulldozing the People’s House to build a big ballroom for the naked king’s big ugly balls


I watch the political theater on my screen unsure of what it means or what matters 

I watch ICE agents brutalize people in their homes 

I see millions take to the streets to shout NO KINGS

and take to voting booths to vote YES DEMOCRACY


Greetings from the democratic socialist republic of New York.

I see Lady Liberty on Canal Street giving the finger to fascism,

enlightening the world.


Let those who are without guilt throw the first sandwich.




Don J in Hell


The movie ends with the White House in flames and the President on the roof. 

Like Cagney in White Heat.

Top of the world, Ma!

He was trying to burn the Epstein files in the Oval Office but goofed and spilled the lighter fluid the fire spread 

This is not a good ending, not morally good 

Maybe a good ending but a bad end

Conflict between moral goodness and a good story. Poets vs philosophers in Plato’s Republic, Homer vs Pythagoras

Poets make the gods look as bad as us, but ultimate reality is Good 

Even the Biblical poets sometimes project a wrathful deity 

I want justice for my enemy and mercy for me 

Lord have mercy

I need to believe that even a malignant narcissist is redeemable even if I don’t want to believe it 

Because I need to believe that even I am redeemable 

I need to believe our nation is redeemable 

The biblical teaching is that a holy land is redeemable no matter how far it strays 

Even Nineveh was redeemable, to Jonah’s chagrin, so America must be also.


The President is concerned about the afterlife, he said

thinking about mortality, he says

We laugh at him because he doubts he will get to heaven 

Not that we are certain about ourselves 

Not getting invited to Dick Cheney’s funeral is the best news to happen to him this month.

He bombs boats in the Caribbean but hasn’t yet started a real war, but there is time 

Cheney started real wars, Big Time.

Big Time was Dubya’s nickname for Cheney

The President has his own wars and we all live inside his head 

He strips protections for the endangered human species

As the world burns


There is time, perhaps, to negotiate which circle of the Inferno he will be assigned to.

How many millions of reincarnations will it take for him to recognize that the wrathful deities that torment him are projections of his ugly soul? 

He needs to believe his lawyers can work out his karma for him or at least delay for an eternity his appearance before the Judgment Seat

He sits in the holding cell

Since the beginning of Time he has been sitting in this holding cell


What are you doing here?

Isn’t there some other place you should be? Something you could be doing? 

There seems to have been a mistake, you say. I was supposed to be happy by now. I have everything I want but I don’t have time.

Then I will ask you another question 

What are you doing now?

Wasn’t there something you should’ve been doing back then, when you were young?

Can wasted time be recycled?

Can a wasted life be redeemed?

Is America going to Hell?