from Chef Kendra

yummy.......from the lovely Chef Kendra

is your lost baby so don't despair he lived he just was born but as somebody else. He grew up in the UK and was part of something called punk rock even though Betty Friedan "dissed" it no offense to her respectfully I don't think she really understood. He is possibly among the UK's best acts, ever. He loves to make cake. Literally. even if it was purposeless perhaps (does it have to have a purpose? that's a contradiction in terms.....a rhetorical question? no.....) the reason d'etre of "beatnikery" is that .....how can I say it politely? People were tired of living, walking around and speaking like they have a spiked dildo up their ass like in the movies and stage. Women and young girls realized that not only does washing the floor and even having children, love them though they do, not make their existence it's not exactly what it's cracked up to be. That they were lied to by seemingly omniscient teachers and authority figures in general and lied to also by the beaded long haired hippie men who were willing to take tear gas and even bullets defending disenfranchised racial groups but still expected their "old ladies" to "shut up" when "he was talking." Not to mention "free love" was translated into THEIR free love.....or to put it crudely, "free pussy." IOW their pussies were now free. For them.
German Chocolate.
 a trailer machinery outside girl hired as a temp to type and file.....she needed money and was grateful for anything, or made to feel. never mind that this was, to put it plainly, shitwork but she was getting paid and was now a certified functional working person in the world. on three hours' sleep she walked into the trailer that was hastily dumped in the middle of gravel and loose, cracked cement and dirt .....no need for heels here.....three hours' sleep. twenty minutes late because she had turned on the wrong street and couldn't read the addresses.
the other girl had warned her about the "boss" that he was a creep and a vicious screaming tyrant. her heart went out to this girl who was his target and victim. He had given her a handwritten note and asked her to type it. His handwriting was small and jagged and hard to read but he was on the phone so she couldn't ask him what he was saying or say she couldn't read his writing. her eyes and mind began to fog over. Fatigue and confusion began to glaze over her eyeballs. She typed absentmindedly, what she thought he had written. Memos and jargon trade language.....industry talk that was Sanskrit to anyone except those in it. Never mind that it was in her language......but it made no sense. "In December with the clear schedule....." straining her eyes to read his writing. She printed it out and gave it to him to fax wire to the other contractors. Silence. About half hour. Then him.....thundering and terrifying yelling, "WHAT IS THIS? WHAT DID YOU TYPE?"
 "Oh, sorry.......oh God, sorry......I thought that is what you wrote....."
considering it all he was relatively forgiving saying only that she needed to clarify with him before sending it out or "I look like a moron....."
What he meant to write was, "In accordance with the contract schedule we will......" what would be going and what dates. A memo.
He must have, in all his state of mind, not been able to help seeing how funny it was. "Is she on drugs?" he had yelled at the agency who sent her. "What kind of....."

something, there had to be some way of getting money other than these jobs which had become unbearable. lack of sleep and her back hurting so badly she could barely get out of bed and she was not yet thirty years old.

playing games.....

"wake up young lovers the whole thing is over " Talking Heads, Swamp

"I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed" Sylvia Plath, Mad Girl's Love Song

Thought dear B was the one but then fate stepped in. or was it chance? Random out of the stupid blue fucking stroke of lighting, luck, a spill from the sky......a gift from spirit here he comes be prepared but you can never be prepared. a trickster and joker, a flash of fairy dust. here and seize it while it's in the room. that I did. Pure unexpected chance throws a firecracker and everything changes, dear. It came in human form and as a human. From another culture, another world, but .....and a spark came out of nowhere, or that it seemed.....

 if all does not go according to your desires no matter how you build your doll house no matter how right it feels at the time how true what explanation is there? You play the hand you're dealt and it's all based on probability.

Divine Miss M 1953

"It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they executed the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. I'm stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and that's all there was to read about in the papers -- goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me at every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway. It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves.

I thought it must be the worst thing in the world."  Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar


"I'm worst at what I do best
and for this gift I feel blessed
our little group has always been
and always will until the end"
Nirvana Smells Like Teen Spirit

I wasn't born yet but these numbers keep bouncing out at me 1953 adds to 9......


Kurt Cobain allegedly escaped rehab (do they lock you in there or what?) made his way back to his house, broke into his own tool shed where he had a shotgun and blew his own brains out. So goes the story. To be honest, I was never much of a fan of them, or that scene. However, this whole episode year after year remains an open wound that grows more and more infected.....and unanswered. Too little credit was given to so many punk bands before and since. But some other time for that. This story is bizarrely, inexplicably similar to one that had happened among unrelated people that had been close to me, in my own life, another time. Almost the same story, and though it was so long ago so much of it may have just occurred it's that fresh and that raw. The Rosenbergs were alleged spies and that's about all I know of them. Except that they were publicly executed what is this sick desire in humans to see what they think is their enemy die, in a humiliating way......like a performance? This person is your "other" your Adversary, everything evil in the world.....by getting rid of them you are getting rid of evil. But then it comes back. My friend once said "you can't fight guerrilla warfare....." Another friend once said that if people could see from beginning to end what really happens to a human being in an execution they would not be in favor. I read The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer as a teenager.....a haunting and disturbing but incredible story, about Gary Gilmore.  The way a human cadaver is spliced up dissected and different bits and pieces of the brain, this gland that gland, this that organ, liver, kidneys, stomach, ect....... like any meat at the butchers so much more reason to be a vegan n'est-ce pas? Being written about in the coroner's journal like you are a broken dishwasher.


"they had to call and call
and pick the worms off me like sticky pearls"

Sylvia Plath


you wouldn't recognize much because what was your way was done away with. you may have been the reason for that, you an example of what was wrong with it. but your baby lived. he was born to someone else, somewhere else, but he is your soul child.

you'd be pleased, if maybe somewhat alienated. these were different times. The sun was in Taurus, the bull. Moon in Scorpio.

 Sylvia Plath was electrocuted by ECT in late July 1953 near my birthday, but before I was born.

ads, denial......and worse

You've probably seen them. The heartwrenching ads for ASPCA, I think, animals in cages looking battered and miserable, Sarah McLaughclin [cq] in the background.....I remember seeing them in between watching crime shows in Ion TV and feeling like I was capitulating.....what an absurd, horrific senseless universe we live in, should I just die or what.....I understand the point and I do my part to help animals but I just can't stand to see that. Once in a hotel room with a friend that ad came on.....and once while I was watching TV with my mother and she said, "Turn that shit off....." because she, too, can't stand to see that. For personal.....things reminding me.....stories I heard of people in Nazi Germany turning a blind eye or being oblivious to the death and unspeakable horrors around them.....footage of the A bomb again being feeling helpless and sick you know.....or so many times as well the Iraq War and people just dying.....how did I get so morbid? All this must have impacted all of us just in ways we aren't aware of. I wish I could be oblivious but I'm psychic.....when stuff happens I feel it know it sense it even if I can't clearly define it. Maybe everyone is like that. The way Moloch Sorcery wrote about this I'm sorry it cracked me up "kitties in the cage....." I mean I LOVE cats nothing kills me more than a cat suffering.....
When I was 18 and living in Chicago.....rather I was 16 visiting my father one summer.....I was obsessed with a man named Sam. I think that influenced my sister's name because I talked about him so much.....I used to call his voice mail constantly and listen to it. What turned creepy was he started talking back into it saying "I love you" it freaked the fuck out of me eventually I felt like I'd imploded and the humiliation was unbearable. At being exposed and caught. Like I'd peed in public. One time my friend Aeysha decided to play a prank on me I can't remember how but saying she had heard (Sam lived in NYC and Aeysha in Evanston but this occurred while I stayed in Chicago during summer) something about Sam dating another girl something.....maybe my friend Yasmeen. I was distraught and wrecked.....here I was 15 and fabulous but wanting to die thinking my life was ruined because a guy I liked was with a girl but that's how it was ...... According to her though I don't remember this but she said I called her saying I just slashed my wrists (not enough to do any real harm but enough to be gruesome and theatrical I was an adolescent and influenced by Sid Vicious ). I suppose she felt guilty or......? so about a year later or something I was visiting Chicago again and she had told me a depressing, horrible story about monkeys in a laboratory. I won't go into it. She made a joke, "Laura's going to start slashing her wrists now....." I somehow this kept flashing in my mind this story earlier this week only now did I get a chance to put it down somewhere. 

I'm so relieved to be back in the world. I'm grateful for.....? somehow feeling like I'm getting a lobotomy I am making amazing art. I am a genius. I am divinely inspired. The stars at some times do shine on the arts even though there .....I would say there is no "it was better back then" because it wasn't....there is no "then" it is now..... the time is was and always was now.....but there are those moments of.....if you follow astrology there is a logistical math to this. But there is always genius. You don't always know it though. Almost never. When it is. Everything was brilliant even if I felt .....I was but was also a mass of nerves and fear. 

 

oh b you sexy thing

mwah kisses kisses from across the ocean.....puss puss 

 "You must construct a circle mentally, a circle of light and attention. You must not allow your concentration to go beyond it. If your control begins to lessen you must withdraw quickly to a smaller circle." Stanislavski  An Actor Prepares

 Margaret Wilson, Scottish Martyr


Kinda creepy Mozart in the background thought it was part of a Lady Gaga video

be grateful for small things. I love b but can't live this way. "you know I love you but I just can't take this" Phil Collins  I always hated his music.....I so love lg tho.....

 

 oh god this is so fucked up but brilliant.....

yes grateful for small things. small big things. Food and drink. I am not in jail. I didn't throw soap at that loser who accused me of being a kleptomaniac......more low, childish behavior not a solution to anything. that I didn't punch b  for cheating. I didn't post a nasty blog thing about ......who shall remain nameless. knock wood, ect. you know. I had to get out of there. for a time. I did not do ...... that's all that was on my mind. How did I not? I don't understand it except that ......but never again. My head hurts, my knees, from yesterday.....I feel smashed just hurting, hurting everywhere.....

this am on the train

I wrote by hand as I had no phone about Woodstock, "gimme an f....." "F!" "Gimme a u" "c" "k" et al  "what's that spell?" "Fuck!" I used to hear this album constantly growing up.....Recurring question war after war.....Ashley's letter to Melanie "I look up at the stars and ask myself, why are you here? What are you fighting for?"
"123 what are we fighting for?"
"Why are we here? Where are the weapons of mass destruction?"

"What does fuck mean" It's a bad word, don't say it.....yeah well we violated that one. Something in my mind unconsciously......the feel of it, loud, ugly, unfeminine, vulgar..........something "down there" and dirty......

Found a book on film editing

Early this morning in downtown Brooklyn I passed a new coffee shop, Key and Cup.....chatted with the man working there and took one of the books on the shelf.....I love books and read an amazing article yesterday in the Times Magazine about a Norwegian man traveling through the American Midwest. Anyway I make my own blogs and vlogs but the whole piecing together of so many fragments of this and that to create an effect impact really fascinates me actually is a current obsession.....





Both JFK and this video below.....inho.....very brilliantly edited. This book too.....First Cut by Gabriella Oldham I just started it.....

The anti war movement

"For bugles do not stir my blood nor drums entice my feet....." Ashley's letter to Melanie, GWTW




"They take this really seriously and you were standing there putting on lipstick....." My friend Aeysha. "I invite you to hang out with us and you flip out at my dad's play....."

.....what is the disclaimer to protect privacy names have been changed, ect.....

He was a dating a friend of a friend....."he" was not who you thought he was.....ringleader, sometimes a little overbearing, good looking,  mouthed off to the Chicago cops telling them to "eat me" and then they beat the shit out of him in the courthouse. Those arrested and jailed were pressured.....or so it's been told or suggested all in a cloud of confusion never really clarified...... to snitch on, to put it kindly.....  their friends but because as Margeret Atwood wrote "people choose to save their own skins. You can count on it 9 times out of ten." He who, to put it crudely, put his dick in you may have informed on you to the cops though you were a confused kid taking acting lessons pulling yourself together after dropping out of high school "the pressure drop, oh you're gonna feel it.....oh yeah....." Who knows who knew? This I was reading in a magazine about the seeming vapid eye candy Marilyn.....a target for surveillance. Honestly if you're not being spied on you're probably not doing a whole lot, some say..... I knew little and understood less about the war, who was what, barely knew where Afghanistan was on a map.....my father was in favor of it due to Carter's alleged mishandling of the oil crisis, "no blood for oil!"..... But fundamentally I instinctively sensed I was speaking for something valid and true.....against a corrupt and immoral action by our government..... A kid in my high school gas in called me a communist and I loved Russian ballet, Anna Pavlova and Natalia Makarova never mind the latter defected to here and, let's not mince words, was considered a sellout by some of her own people (not by me). In her biography she quoted a letter from one of her peers " such people will never see happiness, regardless of fame or money, because they betrayed their countries....." Not much to most but enough to some to be labeled a liberal or commie but you didn't need a lot.....Marilyn Monroe was not the "dumb blonde" she appeared to be.....she was betrayed, ratted out.....by men she slept with a trusted.....he did that to me? How can you be sure except our phones were tapped.....no explanation, how? I was not a ringleader of anything barely knew anything except orange lipstick must have stood out....."you shit," I thought.....an audition or a ritual of uomething? The girl dancer was riveting, gorgeous. As was her audition. I was not intimidated..... But shaken and like I was receiving ......what was it? This was something out of the norm, from another place.....