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


ICKY DRIBLETS— CAVEAT LECTOR: ONCE YOU READ IT YOU CAN’T UNTHINK IT “People like clowns but they hate artists.” Daughter, 11, at 16:40, June 24, 2017   A) CAUTIONARY TALE Tom went to school with me in ’77. He died in 2013. This is the last entry on his Facebook, from 2012; in it, we see that Tom has been caught,  “liking” someone calling her/his self “Kia” on a speed-dating site, by someone in his household: LESSON: be very, very careful how you shepherd your circumstances after the blush of youth has faded from the bulb, Comrades!  Very careful. Fucking … Continue reading ICKY DRIBLETS: A NANOGAZETTE (SPRING EDITION)

KONG of PAP [re-posted from 2009, with an offensive new preface]

PREFACE In 2009, when the hyper-American entertainer, Michael Jackson, died, I thought: sunlight has finally hit the vampire. An innocent (and great talent) in 1970, when his voice was all over the sounds coming out of my red transistor radio,  Jackson died as a human, and a musician, c. 1976, while eking out a mid-level career doing pleasure-cruise disco. The “world” (the Anglo-American sphere)  barely noticed his first quiet death as the world was distracted, at the time, either by Boston’s More Than A Feeling or The Sex Pistol’s Anarchy in the UK. In 1976 I hated almost everything on … Continue reading KONG of PAP [re-posted from 2009, with an offensive new preface]


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