Sunday, March 30, 2014

Slip It To The Andriod

Yet another week where I've worked more than 20 hours. Y'all I didn't make it back to the house until 9:30 on Thursday...then turned right around and worked for five hours on Friday. It's like I'm making Nike tennis shoes in China. There's nothing for a week like that but liquor, smoke and Chrome.  photo image_zpsc7a49d60.jpg

Our friend from Satellite of Love is back...only now, he loves her even more. So Sweet.
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Beat yer head on that for a while.*

Mainly I've just been beating my head against this laptop and blogger...and idiots. Below is not a sketch as such...but, a material artifact of a conversation between me and Martha.  photo image_zps57e06c75.jpg Through a convoluted series of links I ended up on an article from, where else, Salon, that blamed all of America's wars on Southerners. Why? Because we are the dregs of Scotland, Ireland, Wales and North and West England. We like to scrap. The author had just read Albion's Seed. The last decade or so has been a real revelation for the Yankee. Through the publication of a few books and essays (see: See Black Rednecks and White Liberals by Thomas Sowell or Better Off Without 'Em: A Northern Manifesto for Southern Secesion, Albion's Seed, etc.) the Yankee has finally come to understand that flawed as we are...we aren't flawed versions of them. We are different from them. We are still, to a large extent, the same people that were too poor and rowdy to live in the poorest and rowdiest parts of Britain (or kidnapped from West Africa). New England, and the United States of God Almighty America and the whole of the Western Hemisphere was invented by the Puritans...the better sorts of England...the sober and industrious and, above all, the Pious. The example to all...they founded a shinning city on a hill. A beacon for the rest of us struggling in the dark. They will save the world...even if they have to burn it down to do so. From Calvinism through Transcendentalism to Statism...they haven't changed a lick. Some of these people were sent out to save the Great Lakes region (the Midwest)while others stayed back to get the minds of wave after wave after wave of immigrants right. They pulled that shit on the Italians and Poles...found ready allies in the Germans of 1848 but, we instinctively knew why they'd been kicked out of England in the first place. F***ing witch burners. We've never wanted any part of it...and that is our great and unpardonable Sin. We aren't just different than them...we don't want to be them. That's Cardinal. That is what they are finally coming to realize. One of the reasons we don't want to be them is that their Piety is literal minded and dull. They're not Righteous. They're busybodies.* Their industriousness, their solid work ethic, looks an awful lot like grasping, rapacious, greed. In short, they're the kind of people who would invade, conquer and occupy Sovereign States, slaughter indigenous peoples, go on rabbit hunts in the Philippine, send gunboats to South America, Vietnam, and on...all in the name of Abolition or Manifest Destiny or making the world safe for Democracy or etc. etc. etc. and BAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhh. Now matter how dastardly...they can always come up with some cockeyed Moral Justification paper over their Imperial compulsions. We're the warmongers??? Pound sand dickh**ds. Anyway...the above is what you obviously see in those scribbles. We will revisit all this later. We gotta clear the air in here...  photo image_zpsa4b1fa0a.jpg Stay tuned...I didn't want to sully F-Word's efforts with all this nonsense but, next up...we will be examining a piece of his excellent work that purchased recently. *You may be asking yourself...Isn't the Bible Belt in the South...isn't the South hyper-religious. One, there's more than one religion (see the State). Two, much of what passes for religion in The South is not naturally Southern...fundamentalism, for instance, is a product of modernity and a Midwestern import. Three, we go to church because we, as individuals are Sinners, not to plot the salvation of the world. Jesus handled that...without any help from Cotton Mathers even. Again, we will be discussing all this in the future.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Two details

 photo image_zps0f809876.jpg Two details from one I finished recently. Just two halves of a rectangular painting.  photo image_zps389237db.jpg This the one I'm working on now.  photo image_zpsd5ee68d8.jpg I'm having to post from my phone's just pictures today. There are other things to tell (I gotta show you f-words painting), adamparsons has become a rock star among archeologists, and I discovered the worlds largest stink bug...I also have a theory about scientists and ability to communicate (teaser...they suck at it) that I need to run by y'all. PS. If I post this from my phone and it screws up my blog appearing in reading lists...I'm burning blogger to the ground.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Click Clack Click Clack

I've tried to write at different times in the past...I mean really write. I've had no real interest in plots. The idea being to write vignettes that have no connection but are still essential to one another...forming a whole. I don't know that I've had much success with it.

Besides, you never want to tell people you're writing writing. Not in these parts where things haven't changed much since Flannery O'Connor's worried about her own credibility.

"In the South there are more amatuer authors than there are rivers and streams. In almost every hamlet you'll find at least one lady writing Epics in Negro dialect and probably two or three old gentlemen who have impossible historical novels on the way. The woods are full of...writers, and it is the horror of every serious Southern writer that he will become one of them."

Better to paint pictures then.
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I have found an outlet in painting. I may not be much of a painter but it suits my purpose (and, just as importantly, my erratic attention span) better than writing ever has and in that way is more satisfying. While The South has a fantastic tradition of what they call "folk" art...

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By the Great Mose T (Moses Tolliver).

the pressure is not the same...not nearly as burdensome or distracting.

I paint pictures.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Box Elder


I've decided I'm gonna name these paintings after songs...songs that I like without any concern for what the painting. That way any connection is accidental.
One of these I reckon will be called Box Elder.

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Don't even try it...nobody else is that cool.

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Wouldn't you like to know...ha.


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The Headless Wrestler...I'm on my fourth attempt with his noggin.

Sadly...the original has the worst sound of the lot. It's the only Slay Tracks version I could find.

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Saturday, March 8, 2014

It'll Last Longer

This week has been messed up as a pila clothes hangers.

For a second or two on Sunday it looked like Martha and the Boy might get to go to the Delta with me.

Around two o'clock Thursday afternoon I, alone on my way back from the Coast, was stalled on the side of 49...watching my rearview mirror and trying to decide which semi or school bus would end up in my back seat.

The day before I got mugged by a penny slot machine. That night my work laptop tied at the tender age of 12.

First next morning, I limped into a service station to have a flat tire plugged.  Then I got pulled over by the cops.

Enough of that's 4:30 in the morning, everybody else is in bed...I got coffee and a stack of old pictures.

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That's me and Wayne. I'm the one on the left...the one that's not obviously gonna go bald. I'm pretty sure Wayne was the first kid I ever saw drink the akahol. He took a swig of his Daddy's bourbon one afternoon and went into a spastic fit. I thought he was dyin'.

A few years later. I care about two and records.

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When I wasn't at Messer Park destroying the will of twelve year old Defensive Backs and Safeties...I was at Vinyl Fever.

A few more years later...

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...right about the time I met this one...

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We're not interacting here but, this will give you a perfect idea of her demeanor every time I tried to talk to her back then.

The only thing I had going for me was them records...she did like those.

Eventually though, I got so sick and discouraged of failing to get her attention that I joined the army and left the continent.

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That's me and Paul in an Amsterdam hotel.... he would go on, that night, to get drunk and furious in the hotel bar. There were four of us that ran matter where we were, what we did was drink beer and play Spades. Paul was always my partner...and the other two always cheated. I thought it was funny. With Paul bidding 15 tricks every hand...cheating was unnecessary and it's always more fun to beat cheaters. Paul didn't think it was funny and he went berserk....ended up yelling at one of the hotel girls as he was getting on the elevator. He was pointing at her when the door shut. I really liked Paul...we all liked Paul...but he was an odd fella given to unpredictable fits of rage.

I was still buying records...

when this one showed back up.

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After I'd left the country...then ignored her for two years...she finally got her mind right, and chased me down.

I'll tell y'all about how hard she worked to convince me to at least give her a chance, next time.