My web page keeps growing the whole site is
forming and re-forming amoeba like in the back of
my mind.
We are in a perpetual rebuilding process as I learn
to use the tools. I started out with Trellix site builder , now
defunked bought up by the Co that also sell Cute FTP ,The
Site Builder works the same as before except It now cost
$ 60 + it might be worth it to bail on WUSIWUG but Html
is a smaller learning curve than $60.US right now its against my philosophy and my budget time over money is
a tough split plus the fact I am an certified idiot. Although
some other dimmer bulbs than I claim”dude IT’S easy”.
This also stretches what's left of my brain or what ever this
is that keeps me awake blab blab blab .I have turned off the
TV for the most part and guess what? The multi personality is back regurgitating and misspelling stuff, poised to say
something inappropriate in public to some pen head
that disagrees as a reflex and is not interested in any
thing but what ever works for that moment to sound
cool or smart .
More Like This.
ONCE UPON A TIME: Like the time I was popping off to
an ex-Nazi at a Bachelor party that my fiancée of 3 years set up with a bunch of her Boss's Corporate cronies or hers (or more likely my Dad's and/or her Dad's, Swiss Westmoreland Kissinger types, real geezers), we arrive by cab and are directed to separate entrances as though we were planning to split up at this party. Two matron types whisk her away at the top of the steps as a this very liveried dude, the butler or the owner of this town house, carriage house, practically shoves me to this heavily studded, over large wooden sort of side door: "The gentleman's entrance, Sir." It opens easily and once inside he turns on his heels and scurries away chattering orders to two much younger attendants as though finally relieved of the ordeal of our encounter.I enter the immediate long hall and peer tenuously into the first room just off the main hall way. It is empty except for a pale, gaunt, black-haired man wearing a tux and Black tie, smoking a French cigarette (Gaulois) with it's typical acrid, bluish smoke curling up in invented, spiraling rivulets toward the dark, sculpted Tudor ceiling. This guy says, "So, Mr. Mingus, what would you have us do about the impending
riots?" in a thick but polished, German accent, and I say, trying to get a rise out of him, something like a ferocious fantasy of a modern Madison Ave Psycho Fascist capitalist Tool, you know, tongue in cheek like a Lenny Bruce bit, almost in dialect, but clearly sarcastic and heavily ironic, very Jules Fifer.( as if this guy really was “Kernel Klink” from Hogans Heroes”) "Well, you take the T.P.F. busses with the windows made of bullet proof glass and deploy all that
(I was guessing) barbed wire we (the city of New York)
just bought and cordon off the main points of the Lower
East Side and Harlem cutting off the rioters in the there neighborhoods, and then "we" announce an Amnesty on
TV & Radio for all those giving up there weapons. Then
and we put all of the school-aged kids in the abandoned Army barracks in New Jersey.
If the holdouts refuse to give up, we'll we make another
public offer of amnesty but first turn off the water.
Then “we” turn on some gas and any one stupid enough
to still hold out will gas themselves. I laid this on pretty
heavy and Herr. Corn-ball Kernel kink buys it!!!
He leaps to his feet as it to beguin a one man standing ovation & rushes over to me and does a Hitler salute & clicks his heals two times Klack! Klack! (how do they do
that ?), saying what he construed to be the highest complement that he probably gave any one in his entire life, conceding he was a real Nazi X, or otherwise he's standing super serious, gushing and grabbing for my hand warmly. I
reach up in reflex to wave him away and he clasps my hand
with both of his as he says " Had HITLER Met YOU he would never have killed a single Jew!!"
Meaning Jews, in his estimation, are "naturally superior
to Blacks so they were (also) misjudged by him and by
Hitler because, as far as cruelty and efficiency and
economy, I had described a perfect final solution, albeit
off the cuff, and so more's the reason to "honor me with
his appraisal and high praise."
“You must meet my dearest friend,” he says, sweeping
me in to the room of hovering, tuxedoed super rich
geezers sucking on Havana’s , nipping some very
expensive Napoleon Brandy and idly fingering various
delicacies as drone like servants scurried about them
in a ballet of cigar ash catching as they talked through
there clenched teeth. Get it? This guy blurts out,
“Gentleman, you must meet Herr Mingus !!
But first let's have Pierre (not his real name ) tell us all
the story of how we first met.
Thereby hangs a tale. This Guy is French old school
right out of Casablanca, a cross between Peter Lory
and Pierre Salinger in a rumpled Sears Roebuck
navy blue blazer and a old Bertie on top of his balding
Rudey Juleiannie comb over. In a cackling gurgle,
dignity mustered as if this hopefully will be the last time
he ever has to say this, yet with some strain of pride
and gratitude, he says "Politics make strange bed
fellows. " As he is saying this, a door to the dining
room opens briefly casting him, so to speak, in a
sort of spot light. “Would you believe it? This Man,”
pointing
to Herr. Shickelbuddy, “this man executed my entire
family right in front of me. Of course I was a mere
child at the time... And That was War..." He went into
all of the details in turn, telling us
of this hideous deed, somehow detaching himself
as he spoke in an even tone, his heavy accent almost
melting away as if insulating himself with tones of
humor returning to him like he was much practiced
at it. And then the X-Nazi Oil magnate says "What
ever," brushing him aside with a sweeping theatrical
Bull fighting gesture and continues “And now I want
to introduce you to the brilliant Mr. Mingus” I fainted
dead away on the spot where I stood and spent the
entire evening in a torpor from the Guzzled Napoleon.
I can only dimly recall eating an entire Chocolate
Torte ???????? Cake. Most all of the evening is a
blank.
A mind wipe names and location. It did happen in
Manhattan. These people are all real and probably
still alive albeit old, old, old, but still powerful, so
powerful they think that they are part of global
leadership, unbroken by time, concreted to the
so-called Holy, Roman Empire and other so called
high places. In my weakest attempt at a self mocking
bravado I say "Fuck em if they cant take a joke."
© 1999 Charles Mingus III AK A ED:
A link to an artical on art
This site under construction most every thing on these pages is from some one that believes strongly, I should read it.
I try by putting it on this site this doesn't mean I agree with or am occupied with
all of this material it is a lot to digest and
it might disturb you so if you have a difulcituty with the concept of free or simbolic speech check out another page on this web site via the A-index page.
Photoalbum has some of my art from the past. Be well ED :
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What did your Presidents
Grandfather do durring ww2?
Or go to Michael Moors
Check out Prescott Bush the Nazi as the real author
of GWB's true, motivation and follow through on
Hitler agenda Eugenics and Manifest Destiny .
The booze & dope is just self medication.
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