Category: Fanonian Civil War ballad

Fanonian Civil War ballad, grand old liberal racism, MEME-NOIRSLeave a comment

LOVE IN THE EARLY STAGES (a factual short story of dubious shortness)

Steven Augustine

1THE TONE-DEAF RECORD COLLECTOR The title of this introductory paragraph is less a paradox than a commonplace. I have known tone-deaf, or music-insensitive, record collectors who loved vinyl discs with a great, deeply religious passion and an avarice bordering on murderous jealousy. They rarely, if ever, listened to newly-acquired love-objects: they carefully filed them away. I knew a famous rock critic, now deceased (death by injection). We walked the streets of Berlin together for years and often yakked about music.  Here was a man who was published in the very early iteration of Rolling Stone, of Creem, who’d sat in … Continue reading LOVE IN THE EARLY STAGES (a factual short story of dubious shortness)

Fanonian Civil War ballad, THINKING TO THE NTH ON THE TOPIC, well i didn't see THAT coming2 Comments

COLORFUL SCENES ALONG THE DIRTY ROAD TO SOMEWHERE TRUTH-ISH –or—THE SECRETS OF MULATTONATION

Steven Augustine

A: WHERE THE NAKED BODIES ARE BURIED Coded messages whizz through the aether, over and under and through our heads, and the invisible trajectories of these secret signals form the flexible lattice-work of which Consciousness is merely a corner. Most of these signals are “natural” (ie, from before or beyond the work of humans) but many are (wo)man-made.  The more of these signals you equip yourself to perceive, the richer your experience of Life; the better, in some cases, you will be situated to navigate those aspects of  Life that resemble an Easter Egg hunt, Chess game, Kafkaesque labyrinth or … Continue reading COLORFUL SCENES ALONG THE DIRTY ROAD TO SOMEWHERE TRUTH-ISH –or—THE SECRETS OF MULATTONATION

Fanonian Civil War ballad, it's okay, kids, i'm black, THE SHORTSLeave a comment

TALE of the BLACKEST GIANT (a long short story)

Steven Augustine

  he wanted to meet in the real world the unsubstantial image which his soul so constantly beheld           -James Joyce, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man   Appearance is destiny. Just ask any born-blonde with double-d cup breasts. Ask any dwarf. My gorgeous biological mother spent most of my childhood on her hands and knees.  You could say she was scrubbing. Outside, Chicago’s Southside, there were scenes of shame and aftermath bathed in attenuations of rotten smoke on the wind and The Stockyards ruled the smells when this wind changed and thickened in the reversing, shrouding all … Continue reading TALE of the BLACKEST GIANT (a long short story)

ELEPHANT IN THE ELEVATOR, Fanonian Civil War ballad, PCBS, Pronoun Clowns, THINKING TO THE NTH ON THE TOPICLeave a comment

CONTRAST/COMPARE

Steven Augustine

Let’s talk about the Global Privilege of a Blue-Haired, Self-Obsessed and Trivially-Woke Avatar of the Northern Half of the Western Hemisphere and the Sublime Tragicomedy of “Their” Hobbies & Grievances against the Backdrop of the Labor and Resources Pirated from the Anonymous 4/5ths of Humanity Who Slave & Suffer & Die to Keep “Them” Comfy Maybe as part of a futuristic Rite of Earned Imperial Citizenship  everyone lucky enough to be born under the Pinnacle-of-Creation Umbrella should have to (upon turning 17) explain to a bone-thin child of “The Third World” why He/She/”They” deserves it…? Or maybe a few apocalyptic Natural Disasters … Continue reading CONTRAST/COMPARE