I missed out posting my 2016 e-notes and ideas so today, march 4th 2017 I’m posting all the notes I have on my ipad… I have tried to clean out my writings and ramblings by posting them here, it’s a need to share and not just give them away to the social media service of the moment… posting these semi-diary notes is also a way to alleviate my fear I’ll lose them.

I find the 2016 e-notes interesting as they document the election year that should have never been but is… a real odd time for politics here in america and by default the world.

here they are, no edits and full of typos and high school drop out verbiage.

the following notes date from Jan. 2016 to mid June 2016



Oh fuck you your father and this HALLMARK HOLIDAY! Really, isn’t a loved ones birthday e-fucking-nuff?

Here, I have a father memory for you…

I had a fury pal, a German Shepard furry pal when I was like 10… I lapsed in picking up her shit from the back yard. My father took me out side, yelled, smacked, hit and kicked me to the ground… Then he smashed my face in a big pile of dog shit.

Happy Father’s Day.



When everything is terror, nothing is terrible.

This is terrible yes, but no proof it was a legit terrorist attack as defined by our government and their enemy’s.

Yes, I have personally witnessed the worst humanity has to offer… Up close and personal. I’ve studied the darkest of human beings and rally awful atrocities.

If this incidents root cause is anything, it sounds like that would be shame.

Me, I would love to talk about how religion is the root cause of all humanities ills, but that is my political fetish… Like terrorism is for others.

I’ll stick with shame at the moment.



oh shit, I hated voters and voting for so long… Last year was the first time I had voted… I was convinced by many, many respected and intelligent elders, artists and political dissidents that voting is all we really have as far as our societal fate goes… Evolution is long time, we have a short time, I’m a piece of sand looking to be a part of a future beach that I’d think the youth of tomorrow would be happy and productive at will, free thought would flow… Look, my grain of sand helped to build that shit.



And beyond the idea of work, of giving it a go, as realizing I’m invested… Over 30 years of this kind of thing, these shows aren’t money makers… They are friend makers, a good time, the cake from the effort. I’m excited to meet and trade with everyone, to report from the event.


I could literally swim in her warmth and love… The feeling was that tangible… It was incredible. I haven’t a clue as to why I pushed away this kind of feeling so much, but those cold days were mistakes.


The trends of today are the industries of tomorrow.

Your fun is your future factory.

Your whim, your work.

Consumption and commerce.

Dream and do.

Live and die.

Youth of today beware!

The trends of your day are the industries of tomorrow…

Your whims become your work…

Exploration dies. Time stops. You grow old.

Hold art as religion.

Keep culture as compass.

Once mastered, move along.


More Roy Orbison.


Dealing with childhood memories triggered by the death of pop culture icons can be both fun and sad.

Maybe I over eat because my happy place memories are that of baloney sandwiches and hot dogs.


Memories are a strange thing… The fragments and bits you retain.

One time time I gave myself a “swirly”, a swirly is usually given by a few people who would force your head into a toilet and then, flush the toilet.

After I gave myself a swirly, I stood up and started spitting on myself crying, “everyone hates me, even small children hate me” and I was slapping my self.

Prior to my self swirly, I had been given a few swirly’s from the group of kids I was hanging out with and prior to the handful of times my head was forced into a toilet by “friends”, my parents, both of them, had just beaten the shit out of me with a belt and cutting board.

The cool kids who had swirlied me, a lot, over a year long friendship, accepted and welcomed me as a “friend”… I thought. When I think about my time hanging out with those kids, I wonder… Did they see the abused, picked on kid I was and invite me into their click so they could also pick on me.

I think so.

I think that pick on the weaker, dominance and submission shit is innate, primate shit… In the future, perhaps that shit will evolve out or at the least, become less perverse and meaningless.

Discipline is for circus animals.



I use to be a boss, the boss I told her…

She told me, I was a free man.

I wept.

A cage of self made illusion.



Spend too much of my life feeling bad about who I am and too much of it feeling bad about thing I’ve done that are not the person I am.



One of the had et things of my life is being smart but not educated… To be driven to want more but not able to communicate my needs correctly.

When I talk to those with an education, it’s often like I’m speaking another language…I’m misunderstood often, and though most assume they know what I mean when I speak, I understand what they mean when they don’t question my words.



Many a public person has been held accountable for their call to action in violence and hate, trump has not.

He has asked for violence, and has stirred that pot until he has created a very violent climate and violent actions towards others.

This has to with accountability for all, not just the unlucky.

This has to do with responsibility, not passing the buck.

This has to do with nuances in communication.

Does the artist who says “I want you all dead” actually mean it?

Does the politician who asks for protestors to be beaten up actually want that?

I think, when they show they do, and when those requests are carried out… Accountability must be demanded.

Intent is everything.



I’m culturally insensitive and sensitive all at once.

I could counter that it is culturally insensitive to ask an artist for an explanation of his work or, to force your interpretation on their work.

I find when it comes to other artists, poets, or politicos, they have a need to project their message and even, at times, their true intent onto the artist they critique and the art they criticize.

I always find it odd they would criticize, rather than make a piece of art or work, inspired by the emotions that the objectionable art has brought forward.

Maybe a thank you card for the art and artist who helped inspire their outpouring of emotions is more appropriate.

When the outbursts from the critical become public, I find it to be a “look at me, look and listen to me, not that, not him/her/they” … I find it to be coattail ridding for attentions sake… An “my art and thoughts and expressions deserve that attention, but that art deserves to be in the trash”

Do I understand that Che was a person who chose war over creativity. Yes I do. I’m agains war and war heros of ALL colors. I’m opposed to violence. Creative movements have shaped the greatest parts of the world.

But that wasn’t my pure intention behind that patch,many my full explanation isn’t needed in this note… But you can find it on my sites somewhere… Anyway…

I am a person who believes in the free thought movement. A movement that encompasses all human rights… gay marriage, trans rights, woman’s rights, animal rights, children’s rights. It is the idea of the individual owning themselves and that their mind and thoughts create the individual and are theirs alone, and they are ok, no matter the message… Those thoughts tell us where the person is coming from or where the person came from… And they can’t really be wrong, for them… And the individual has the right to make mistakes and evolve, or not… And it is only with the ability to think big and communicate those big thoughts, freely, that you might be able to sway someone to think different, to consider a thought they have never imagined, maybe a thought that might help them process their pain and rage in a way that might not be so harmful to them… But if you are the kind of person who wants to sway thought so a persons expression no longer bothers or harms you, well, you are on the other side of my beliefs and you might be a person who wants to mould the world in your image, who wants a world to follow your thoughts, and I feelings… in my mind, that would make a real boring world… And control of people and their thoughts is way not my thing, I’m 100% opposed and find folks like that to be repulsive or politicians.



Born evil.

Yes. Have to be.

But can also be created, evil, or, as I like to say, perverse.


You can not have a computer create expressive artwork.

Life offers variables and circumstances you can not predict.

Life experience can not be engineered.


Winter is a great time for catching up on watching great films… Or movies. Or not so great visuals with words. I love movies and have become quite the film snob.


Styrofoam wrapped take outs.

It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten from styrofoam wrapped take outs.

I live in a civilized area.

As far as hairless apes go.

Astoria, Oregon is alright by be.

And I’m alright to it.

Love this area.


Once you March to the beat of others drums, you lose.

You must set the tone, the flow, the chord of your own.

It is then you are in tune.

In tune with the all.

A contributor to the symphony of life.


When seeking justice for past crimes, punishment should be tempered… Our own faults and lack of timely justice for past crimes committed must be considered.


Within the context of this society, how could the rich feel badly about wealth or the poor about poverty?

It is truly what you do with it or about it that defines the character and, more importantly your individual future.


I’m just recently enjoying sex as I think it was meant to be enjoyed.

With joy, pleasure and thoughtful actions and reactions.

My thoughts, your thoughts, our thoughts.

Not their thoughts.

Marketeers turned pornographers.

I learned how to fuck from porn.

I learned how to love from want.

Oh how I love my wife.

She’s really brought me a long way.

Up or down only the future knows.

And those who judge.


Oh the struggle is real.

Each time I think I’m on top of it…

It hits again.

Few regrets…

Not taking advantage of the low drama moments is one and/or a few.


Illegitimate… Metal heads a meeting of the illegitimate.

The outpouring over the death of metal icons of my youth.

Brings legitimacy.



Portland…my ho’s who are in the knows.

And not cool with that idea.

I am.

I relate with the ignorance

I use to be afraid of that.

Ashamed of that.

It’s where all of my identity issues really start and begin.

The skins I or one creates to hide the obvious.



It’s adult puberty that will kill you… Not age.


To realize how ignorant you’ve been is humiliating.

Self evolution is just as painful as earthquakes, floods, fires and famine.

Maybe that’s why politicians, religion and easy answers rule.

I wish I had known then, what I know now, the maximum.

Once you know, stand up, brush the humility off and walk towards the goals.


Maybe that’s the thing… I’ve been able to humiliate myself for the chance at a better understanding at the least and a better way of life at the most.


I have found my non creative, compulsions strips me of the charm it takes to thrive. Those non creative compulsions seem to always tie into consumption.


You don’t have to be what that say you are.

I’m crazy to others when I am confident in myself, in my mind and in my assumptions

I’m crazy to myself when I lack confidence in myself, my mind and my assumptions.

And/or … What other people think will kill you.


What some might consider my ego

Is an honest account in the face of disrespect.

It is for the person who thinks their attitude equals my actions, efforts and accomplishments.


It’s like a rich dude saying wealth isn’t what you want and money means nothing. She’s in front of a camera talking about fame. Funny. Fame, IF you have something to say, means your voice just got a lot louder. She obviously has nothing to say.


I’ve smoked, drank and fucked more books than I’ve read.


Drug dealers are just bootleg bank accounts for those turning a blind eye as their making the laws.


Most of my rants and observations… From this old man perspective, sound like an ignorant kid moaning and crying and fighting about a reality that only exists for the ignorant, broke and poor.

I’m no longer ignorant to the lottery of birth and the sadistic social system that would have the ignorant wander and wonder over questions that have been figured and even solved.


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