GYPSIES

written in 2010 eering into the open before his sunbrella went up was like having a frying pan in full sizzle put flat on his cheek. The bulging curve of the station wall had a sharp black collar of shade around it in which sat the gypsy with her accordion, playing the dolorous tango they all played within a wild range of capabilities, from grating to futile mastery. She gave him a frank look as he veered out into the unfiltered blast because she blocked the very narrow path the shadow protected, sitting cross-legged on a collapsible chair, shoe tip … Continue reading GYPSIES

THE FOG OF WAR and Other Aphrodisiacs

EVER HAVE THE PLEASURE OF YELLING AT A SMALL CROWD (c. 30 people) of FASCISTS? I have. A few days ago. Delicious. Wife and I were on a bus. A family of five, with a baby carriage (they looked Turkish or Romanian) got on the bus. The bus driver said, over the PA, that the family should please put their masks on. On the U-Bahn and S-Bahn, it’s easier to get away with wearing no mask, though a substantial fine is threatened if an authority catches you. On the bus, it’s much harder to get away with it: some bus … Continue reading THE FOG OF WAR and Other Aphrodisiacs

(J)WOKE  J(W)OKES  and THE BEASTS

The doctor  tells his patient “I have good news and bad news.” The patient says, “Tell me the bad news first, doc.  I can take it.” The doctor says “Well, after an exhaustive battery of expensive tests, I’m forced to conclude that I  no longer have the slightest excuse to charge you massive amounts of money for supposedly treating the terminal disease that  I previously jumped to the conclusion you may conceivably have begun to suffer from.  Without an excuse to treat you,  this also means no juicy kickbacks for needlessly exposing  you to incredibly toxic drugs that would  guarantee … Continue reading (J)WOKE  J(W)OKES  and THE BEASTS

tophus

Queer Fat Niggers â„¢ weren’t fat or Queer or Black, they were a duo of Transgender womyn who hailed from the wealthiest hostels of Long Island. Please touch the blue circle firmly with signing thumb to continue. QFN’s hook was butterscotch-plaid bellbottoms and waist-long,  candy-colored wigs. QFN were blitzed on stage by relentless strobe lights: that was their act. Purportedly, no one over 19 could bear to watch it. QFN are recognized as trailblazers in the exaggerated-breast-size  (EBS) movement of topless trans  liberation. This informational monologue is dedicated to Larry. QFN were known for one very catchy and groundbreaking original … Continue reading tophus

INVOICE of a DEGENERATION

Last night’s shocking death  of legendary rapper Rapt iller-Than Rex, at an amusement park, has sent ripples of stock veneration and sentimentality through a community already rocked, this year, by hundreds of predictable casualties. Rapt iller-Than was born Titus Primrose Jackson the Third in an undisclosed location in a gated community to bourgeois parents who’ve been voting Republican since Rapt iller-Than‘s father, Titus Primrose Jackson the Second, scored a well-paying job as an extraneous token at a Liberally-racist service provider in the nation’s rapidly-growing Prison Industrial Complex. Easily brushing off accusations of  conflict of interest (Rapt Iller-Than’s rhymes are allegedly … Continue reading INVOICE of a DEGENERATION

TALE of the BLACKEST GIANT (a long short story)

  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)

RAVENELLA: a Fairytale by Steven Augustine

  RAVENELLA a fairytale by Steven Augustine   -Preamble- Eine frischvermählte junge Frau läuft vom Wasserholen aus der dörflichen Quelle durch den finsteren Wald nach Hause… A newly married young woman was walking home through the forest after a trip to the village well. She was blonde as straw and white as moonlit snow, with eyes more blue than a teapot. Out of boredom she took an unfamiliar path through the forest and glimpsed, over a high garden wall, a ripe red bunch of cherries. Seeing the ripe cherries, she realized how hungry she was, and, putting down her bucket … Continue reading RAVENELLA: a Fairytale by Steven Augustine

THE POMO TICKLER: A TASTEFULLY EVANESCENT BLACK COMEDY MICRO-ZINE

  —-FREE BUMPERSTICKER CONCEPTS FOR THE SUPER-CLUED-IN—-   ***”IT’S THE NEONICOTINOIDS, STUPID!” ***”I BRAKE FOR TRIGGER-HAPPY CENTURIONS” ***”MEN STARE AT MY BOOBS THE WAY I STARE AT BABIES: LIKE THEY THINK THEY’RE HARDWIRED TO DO IT!” ***”C02 = PLANT AIR, DIPSHIT” ***”WTF  R  U  ‘CONSERVING’ EXCEPT UR PRIVILEGE?” ***”ANTI-WAR, PRO-SEX, AMBIVALENT TOWARDS MONEY:  BRING BACK THE GENUINE LEFT” ***”CALL ME WHATEVER YOU LIKE WHILE I DO WHATEVER I PLEASE” ***”UNPLANNED BABY ON BOARD” ***”MY OTHER CAR IS IN A FANCY GARAGE FOR CAPITALIST MIRAGES” ***”THE BEARDED, VAGUELY-LEVANTINE, ANUS-FREE SKY GIANT IS WATCHING” ***”OK, KONSOOOMER!” ***”WHO TAUGHT YOU TO PRONOUNCE ‘VEGAN’ … Continue reading THE POMO TICKLER: A TASTEFULLY EVANESCENT BLACK COMEDY MICRO-ZINE

BLACK GOLD: AN OPEN LETTER TO WELL-MEANING LIT-LIBERALS

A blogger gifted with very-often fine taste, who runs a cultural-curation site I usually quite enjoy visiting, has, I’ve found,  a little bit of a weirdly super-generous eye when it comes to material produced by Artistes of Color, especially in Lit,  and, yes,  I can feel some of you recoil, from the screen,  as I go there. Perhaps this post is NSFW if you work for a virtue-signalling tech start-up, but:  His standards drop straight through the floor/ when Black nonsense raps on the door.  It’s like: uh: almost any Black (or “Black”) writer has something interesting to say… and … Continue reading BLACK GOLD: AN OPEN LETTER TO WELL-MEANING LIT-LIBERALS

THE SONG-DREAMING QUEEN of WOKEVILLE

  (This is a re-post and re-write from a post about a story that hadn’t fully played out when I first posted it)   As I scramble to wrap up a three-year-long recording project (the best studio recordings I’ve ever gotten; the production isn’t slick but it’s savagely inventive and the sonics are nice and chewy) before the year is done, I’m having to hire musicians to come in on eight bars here, and four bars there, to plug a handful of holes in the arrangements. My production rule is that every four bars in a song has to have … Continue reading THE SONG-DREAMING QUEEN of WOKEVILLE

BRIEF SKETCHES of an ANTI-SNOWFLAKE’S CHILDHOOD (in AMBER)

  I spent a little more than ten years of my life, from 1963 (age 4) until 1973 in a classically perfect post-War ghetto, on the Southside of Chicago: rats, broken glass, petty crime and burning garbage. Some of the garbage burning was very near to our kitchen window because it was in flames in the incinerator built into the block of contiguous two-storey apartments our apartment ( #649) was the very end of. Every block had its terminal incinerator; I think there were perhaps twenty or thirty blocks like this in our ghetto. You could step right out our … Continue reading BRIEF SKETCHES of an ANTI-SNOWFLAKE’S CHILDHOOD (in AMBER)

21 UNFORGIVABLE ONE-LINERS

    Let’s keep wrapping our heads around the spectacle of McCarthyite Lefties until it feels right! Let’s empower Women by saying that a Woman can be any Man who feels that they are a Woman; can we do the same fun thing with Race? How can young girls being mercilessly bombarded on all media fronts, 24/7/365, with the diametrically-opposed messages to both A) snack for social fun and status and B) get skinny to be sexy (for social fun and status) have actual eating disorders…  what are their underlying issues we can struggle to understand? Let’s keep encouraging kids … Continue reading 21 UNFORGIVABLE ONE-LINERS

SUPRA-NATIONAL INSENSITIVE CULTURAL APPROPRIATION DAY

The third annual SNICAD (Supra-National Insensitive Cultural Appropriation Day) went off with barely a glitch, yesterday, in an undisclosed location, with well over three dozen-ish anonymous participants indulging in hurtful fun. The secrecy is because of our fear of deadly (Twitter) reprisals. Which explains, as well, why I’ll have to use heavily filtered snapshots to illustrate the big event. But it was grand. Everyone appeared to have an illicitly good time and the clean-up, in the wee hours (wrangling the odd sombrero or stray Afro wig,  from various corners of the sticky floor, in the dark,  with a broken litter … Continue reading SUPRA-NATIONAL INSENSITIVE CULTURAL APPROPRIATION DAY

AND ANOTHER THING…

  THE RACE/ GENDER/ BODY/ BELIEF SYSTEM VICTIMOLOGICAL STANLEY CUP   What nobody really talks about is the stiffly vicious competition, in America, to be the biggest, most glorious victim in history. For a very long time, it was a neck-and-neck race between Black Men, Black Women and (a close second) White Women (with Asians traditionally keeping quiet on the topic, Jews weaving in and out of the picture as both discriminated-against and entitled and Native Americans remaining largely ignored). Then Gays, and various “disabled” people, entered the race: each felt his/her group could lay special claim to the Grand Prize … Continue reading AND ANOTHER THING…

THE AWFUL GULF between public BLACK MUSICAL GENIUS and public BLACK LITERARY MEDIOCRITY

As ever: Black Musicians are at the intellectual forefront while prominent Black Writers remain pathetic Third-Stringers, reliant on the condescending Good Will (or lackadaisical ignorance) of Liberal White enablers. Guitarist Tosin Abasi has done more, in the fight against odious Black stereotypes, than all the hand-waving, two-thirds-literate, prize-winning Roxane Gays, Paul Beattys and Claudia Rankines (ad inf)  on the plantation. There’s nothing that any of the aforementioned “writers” have done that a precocious 10th-grader couldn’t… but isn’t a celebrated Artist supposed to be able to do, seemingly effortlessly, what the mortals in the audience can only dream of doing? Which brings … Continue reading THE AWFUL GULF between public BLACK MUSICAL GENIUS and public BLACK LITERARY MEDIOCRITY