Saturday, July 27, 2013

Existing in New York City: As the World Burns

Foto by tgw, New York City, 2013
Say Goodbye to: John Graves, a Texas writer, a good friend of my family, whose book Goodbye to a River is not only a Texas classic but to me one of the best books I've ever read. John Graves, 92, American author (Goodbye to a River).
Say Goodbye to: "Whizzer" White, one of the nations leading football running backs back in the 1950s for Arizona State.  When I was a kid, I was a big fan of the Border Conference because Hardin-Simmons University in my hometown was a member of that conference.  I recall many a game in which HSU and Arizona State tangled over the years.  Whizzer White was Arizona State's first-ever All-American.  At this time, too, Hardin-Simmons had one of the nation's leading passers in John "Model T" Ford.  Wilford "Whizzer" White, 84, American football player, father of Danny White, suspected heart attack.
Sitting in This Ovenish Heat Thinking (Actually Written During a Sizzling Heatwave)
I'm sitting here in Billionaire Heaven (New York City) surrounded by hi-rise luxury apartment buildings all air-conditioned with their huge central air units grinding away, chewing up power off the taxed-to-the-max electrical power grid while the temperature is sweltering up in the high nineties, feeling like it's 120 on the street.  I've been contemplating what the hell we would do were there suddenly no longer any electricity.

I'm currently reading an amazing set of books by Van Wyck Brooks about life in 19th-Century New York City when there was no electricity; when horses were the means of transportation (and horse shit filled the streets); when there were swine and rats and wild dogs and stray cats roaming the streets; when the streets mostly weren't paved and those that were were paved with cobblestones (imagine the racket); when there was no sewer system and the gutters held the sewage as it simmered there until a gully washer came and canaled it out into either the Hudson River or the East River; when in the summer it was steamy muggy hot as Holy Hell and in the winter it was bitter cold like the Arctic; when there was no air-conditioning only open windows (if you lived in the front of a building there was the fetid air coming in from the street; if you lived in the back of a building there was the noisy-neighbor and stale-aired airshaft); when stoves were heated by wood or coal, the kitchen stove staying burning no matter the season; when there were no electric lights only gaslight, oil lamps or candlelight.  Think of that.  Yet, people adjusted to these extremes, a lot of our founding White fathers living long gouty lives (Jefferson, Franklin, Madison lived into their 80s; John Adams lived to 90; Washington in his seventies).

Want to Read Something Frivolous, Maddening, and Asinine About the Blow-job Queen?  
You, of course, know who I mean.  The blow-job queen who went from sucking old speckled-dicked Slick Willie Clinton's much abused and dipped-in-ugly-beauties'-mouths-and-vaginas dick and then letting old Bill bang her with an illegal Cuban cigar to a freaky stardom.  Only in New York City could such a rise (like the rising of old Slick Willie's prick) happen.  This dick-sucking phenom went from sulking behind closed doors in her cum-stained dresses to become, according to this old New York Mag fluff piece, a gad-about-town celebrity who has a free-ticket-ride to the most chummy of Manhattan social events and top restaurants (where her new fans send her bottles of champagne or pieces of pie) and she has a public relations bimbo gloating over her.  Damn, I'm about to puke writing this, upchucking my innards as I write about reading this now 12-year-old published drivel, this hairy piece of vaginally dripping fluff written by a New York Mag entertain-the-dumbasses writer.

I readily admit that sexual scandal is one way to gain great celebrity and business success.  There are too many examples throughout history for me not to reach such a conclusion.  One of my wives  explained to me one afternoon when after a great session of unbridled around-the-world sex she demanded I buy her a new wardrobe on the grounds, as she put it, that all women no matter their class or station in life are prostitutes.  As such, they, she went on with further explanation, have an inner urge to seduce through wiles and innuendos any male who they know for sure is ranking them up and down in terms of sexual availability.  Monica Lewinsky, as a young prostitute, was fully aware that she was being so measured up for sexual dalliances by the handsome roving-eyed President of the USA, Slick Willie Clinton.  The wily young Monica took advantage of that awareness to lure old Willie into first innocently sneaking kisses and feelies at state affairs to finally capping it all off with allowing herself to get fucked with one of Willie's prize illegal Cuban cigars in the Oval Office.  Willie got caught when sweet Monica couldn't keep this affair under her belt and spilled the mixture of vaginal fluids and semen beans to who she thought was a dear close closed-mouthed friend.

Here in New York City at the present time, we have two brothers in sexual scandal promiscuousness running for office, Eliott Spitzer, a cheating fucker of hot call girls, and Anthony "the Weenie" Weiner whose problem is he can't overcome his psychopathic masturbational urges to sex twitter and text with willing women he meets via those social media on the Internet and through sexual conversations with these gals spills his seed on the floors in front of his ever-active laptops.  Elliott Spitzer is fawning much regret over his cheating past and he's humbling his rich self pathetically in public and so far for old Elliott it's working; he's leading his opponent in his contest for city comptroller.  Weenie trying the same pathetic tactics begged to be made mayor of this wormy apple and, by golly, he was leading in the polls over an otherwise limpwristed pack of candidates until revelations started exposing the Weenie as not being cured of his psychopathic masturbational habits and in fact still twittering and texting his sexual intents to women all over the East Coast, recently confessing his continuing sins with his poor sacred wife (who I think is a very pretty lady) by his side to embarrassingly listen as her jack-off husband confesses his further sins [I have since writing this been enlightened as to who Mrs. Weenie is.  She was Hillary Clinton's dickgirl (and who knows what else), plus her father is big in the Muslim Brotherhood].  As a result of Weenie's new revelations, he has lost the faith of New York City's dumbass voters and has slipped in the mayor's race way behind out-of-the-closet Lesbian and Adam and Steve married person Christine Quinn [who also for years has had her nose buried up Michael Bloomberg's filthy ass].

Ah sex.  Such a pleasurable sin.  And most of us, men and women, can't resist its itching urges when we get them.  It is the original sin and most male-dominated religions blame its originality on women.  And most religions are so male-dominated; yet, most religions would go bankrupt without women.  I like Paul Gauguin know that virtue exists but like he said that doesn't mean I like it.  Virtue is a concocted moral placed on us by historical men who claimed they were without sin, which means they abstained from sex.  Do you believe that?  I never have.  Look at the recent revelations against the so-called abstaining priests (bishops on up to cardinals) in the Catholic church.  Turns out nearly every one of them are either boy buggers or girl rapists.  Maybe that proves SEX is the demon that resides in man and woman.  To me, sex is simply, as Philip Wylie said, to take our minds off the fact that surely we will die.  Through sex, at least we keep the human race surviving.  Besides, there's nothing better than good consensual sex.  In all my marriages, it wasn't sex that broke us up; in fact, if they were only based on sex (true love) they would have survived.

for The Daily Growler

That closed-mouthed friend started figuring up her own future bucks intake especially after she had the evidence, the cum-stained dress.  Personal appearances on teevee and future book deals began dancing like sugar-plum fairies across the wide spaces of her mind.   

Monday, July 15, 2013

Existing in New York City: "Columbia, the FAKE Gem of the Garbage Dump Ocean"

Foto by tgw,  New York City, 2013
Say Goodbye to: Noel Lee, pianist extraordinaire; recorded great version of Charles Ives' First Piano Sonata on the Nonesuch label.  Noël Lee, 88, Chinese-born American and French classical pianist and composer, complications from a fall. Here's an interview with Noel (in it he says he was influenced to write a piece of music based on hearing Oscar Peterson playing ("impertinently") on the radio:

Say Goodbye to: Matt Batts, who I remember was a hind catcher, remember the days when catchers were called hind catchers? I recall hearing on the radio Matt Batts catching Virgil "Fire" Trucks when he threw a no-hitter when they both were Detroit Tigers.  Matt was also a fellow Texan, born in San Antonio.  I'm surprised he was 91; seems like only yesterday he was playing baseball.  I must be getting old.  Matt Batts, 91, American baseball player (Boston Red Sox, Detroit Tigers).
Why Is Janet Napolitano Qualified to Head the Crumbling U-Cal Education System?
I was baffled by the choice of this dingbat woman to head the U-Cal college system; here's a guy's Top Ten reasons for this appointment:
Our Ship of Fools Sails On
I see every politician in these United Snakes of America, from local politicians on up to Congress and the Presidency, as a bunch of rat fink scumbags.  But then anybody who knows me or has kept track of The Daily Growler over our six years of existence knows I'm repeating myself with that condemnatory statement.  And, of course, being a cynic and believing in the Third Law of Thermodynamics, I see no hope for any change to happen in the future (in spite of Hegel and Oswald Spengler).  In fact, with these scoundrels continuing to rule us, getting reelected over and over, I see us as perfect little lemmings baling on over cliff after cliff to drown ourselves in a turbulent sea of our own making.

I'm reading rumors in all the New York City worthless news media that President Half-White Obama is considering making New York City's jive-ass police commissioner head of Homeland Security.  I sit stunned reading such news.  What is so great about this little Shanty Irish creep that he keeps on keeping on being rewarded with high-paying taxpayer-paid jobs?  The worst mayor in the history of New York City (and all its mayors have been each worse than the next one), Rudolph Guiliani, brought this little jerk to our forefront after his original pick of a police chief, Bernie Kerick, proved to be a god-damn crook (even though Judith Regan, the high-powered girl publisher, commended him as the greatest fuck she'd ever had after Bernie, a happily married man, was banging her on a human-dust-dusty ledge in his confiscated hi-rise floor Battery Park (downtown Manhattan) condo love nest overlooking the ruins of the original World Trade towers).  Then when Rudi was rudely kicked out of office, G.W. Bush, our worst jerk-off president ever (that is until Brother Two-faced Obama got the job), a coward of a dumbass man who stole two elections right out from under the dumbass likes of Al "the Bore" Gore and John "Ketchup Suppin'" Kerry, picked Little Ray Kelly to be his Customs chief.  As Customs chief, there were never-proven but probably true rumors that Ray was pocketing a little more than his six-figure taxpayer-paid take-home pay, which didn't stop, after Ray resigned his Customs job and our now illegal three-term billionaire scumbag mayor, the dishonorable Mike Bloomberg, pulled Ray out of the retiree government trash bin to elevate him to police commissioner of the City of New York.  As NYC Police Commissioner, this guy has turned the NYPD into a military force, installed over 2,000 cameras all around mostly Manhattan Island to spy on We the Probable Terrorists (in his pompous eyes) Citizens of NYC, spied illegally on Islamics not only in NYC but outside his jurisdiction in New Jersey and Connecticut, has continued the NYPD's policy of shooting first and asking questions later, stopping and frisking all Blacks and Latinos (I know, our fool mayor says we stop and frisk more White people (based on some kind of illogical calculating) than we do Blacks and Latinos--but then he is a racist asshole), using drones to spy on We the Probable Terrorists Citizens of NYC, etc.  I mean, why is this man so loved by our admirals of this Ship of Fools on which all of us are sailing propelled by hot-air winds into a Chaotic future?

Currently, we have a mayor's race coming up next year here in NYC as finally our little billionaire mayor doesn't dare buy a fourth term and will hopefully fly off in his private helicopter with his pregnant daughter to one of his Caribbean tax-sheltered estates and get out of our hair forever.  Again, we have a bunch of sorry choices, including now, and he's, according to our worthless news media, currently favored to win, Anthony "Little Weenie" Weiner, the sorry little jerk-off (literally) from Brooklyn who is asking We the Probable Terrorists Citizens of NYC to forgive him his past sins and make him mayor.  I suppose Little Anthony is in need of big bucks as he watched Mayor Bloom(ing Idiot)berg increase his worth in three terms as mayor from 5 or 6 billion dollars to now upwards of 30 billion (how'd you do that, Little Mickey?).  The other candidates ain't much better than the Weenie Man, including current head of the city council and former Mike Bloomberg asskisser now openly Lesbian Christine Quinn.  Looks like politics as usual here in New York City (Billionaires' haven).

Speaking of billionaires' haven, I recently read that many Chinese Commie Capitalist pigs are flocking into New York City to buy up apartments and condos for investment purposes.  That makes sense since one of the only two tenants in the new world's most expensive office building, the new One World Trade Center (formerly called the Freedom Tower), is a Beijing real estate firm.

The irony of all of my contemptuous complaining is that I'm kicking against the pricks since in my opinion the majority of Americans are now totally dumbass, ignorant, right-winger dingbats.  Like I recently watched the Bill Moyers Frontline film on our Public (British) Broadcasting Service following two Milwaukee, Wisconsin, families from 1992 until present and how each of these families, one White and one Black, had since '92 lost their jobs, lost their unemployment, lost their homes, the White couple dissolving their marriage over it all, and yet both families maintain strong beliefs in their gods (the White family Catholics; the Black family having their own church with the husband preaching to his dwindling congregation how in spite of the worst possible things happening to them, they had to keep their faith in God, that God had a purpose in putting them through the trials of Job)...and this program made me sick at my cynical stomach, especially since all this ruin was happening in Wisconsin, a totally backward state, where the citizens of that sorry state elected sorry backwards thinking Republicans to a majority in the state house and in Congress, throwing out their progressive Senator Russ Feingold for a multimillionaire Koch Brothers asskisser and electing and then reelecting that prick Scott Walker as their rights-ruining, economy-wrecking governor.

Trayvon Martin: GUILTY
I was down on the Jersey Shore with thedailygrowlerhousepianist and he asked me how I thought the George Zimmerman trial was going to turn out.  I replied without hesitation, "George Zimmerman will get off Scott free."

Being a White man and knowing my race, I knew right off that no Florida (a backwards Cracker and hillbilly state) White jury (it was 5 White women and a Latina) is going to convict Good Ole Boy George Zimmerman who was obeying the laws of right-wing Florida by standing his ground against a suspicious-looking hoodie-wearing (a Black sign of defiance against the White man) Black boy who threatened poor little helpless George Zimmerman by slamming his cowardly ass against the concrete sidewalk (the defense attorneys said that concrete sidewalk was Trayvon Martin's weapon)--George Zimmerman doing his duty on watching out for Black intruders into what he thought was a solid White gated community and shooting this uppity N-worder punk in self-defense.

This is a divided nation in case you hadn't noticed.  If you're White (cop or neighborhood watch dog) you shoot first in this country when it's a suspicious Black kid and ask questions later.  And President "Half-White" Obama cautioned people to remain calm over this and I was shouting at Black people to not remain calm, to bring the mother-fucking White supremacy down, to boycott White stores and disobey their laws and riot...but then, I know what scares hell out of my people and has since the days of slavery and Nat Turner and John Brown. 

So my White cracker Florida sisters set Good Ole Boy George Zimmerman free to go out and kill some more N-worders.  The defense attorney said if George Zimmerman had of been Black there would never have even been a trial.  My question is, what if Trayvon Martin had of been White?

On the day the all-White jury set George Zimmerman free, 50 people were blown to bits in Iraq.  You think about that.

for The Daily Growler

White History:


Tuesday, July 09, 2013

Existing in New York City: Sweltering in Hell City

Foto by tgw, "Madison Park," New York City, 2013
Say Goodbye to: Toshi Seeger, Pete's wife of many, many years: Toshi Seeger, 91, American environmental activist and film maker, wife of Pete Seeger.
In a Sea of Heat Waves
Friday, the 5th of July, I was down on the Jersey Shore at Asbury Park and Ocean Grove and it was breezy and in the shade exceptionally cool, though exposed to the sunlight, it was blistering, enough Vitamin D to poison your soul.  Today, I'm back in New York City and the temperature soared up to 93 during the afternoon and now late in the evening the heat is still hovering around my body like a fur glove.

I spent one summer in Haiti and sitting out in the 90-degree sun I wrote a Haitian story while ogling a beautiful French woman swimming in the villa pool.  I was basking in both sun and work and ogling and loving it, but that heat was so different from this heat.

And speaking of a different heat, I grew up in West Texas where the temperatures in the summer easily reached 100 in the shade with a father who despised air-conditioning.  He believed air-conditioning unnatural.  We did however have a form of air-conditioning, a squirrel-cage fan that sucked in the air from outside and cooled it down by waterfalling the pumped hydrant water down through straw paddings on the sides of the unit to drip that water to collect it in a pool in a large pan at the bottom of the big bulky unit.  I don't ever remember any of those blazing hot summers being uncomfortable.  That old fan was especially cooling after as a kid I had been out playing baseball in the fiery middle of that sun's demonic licking down.

I've gone water skiing on Lake Brownwood, Texas, one summer in 100-plus degree heat, burnt to a salmon-red crisp by the sun reflecting off that lake, sleeping half naked in a hammock at night and not remembering suffering from that heat one bit.

Later during my early summers home from college, I worked laying down asphalt to resurface highways from Abilene, Texas, up into the sun's anvil country around Aspermonte, Texas, working in blistering heat that rose up near 110 at the height of the day, plus suffering from the heat of the big asphalt cooker tanker that kept the asphalt blazing hot as I raised and lowered the long bar out which the asphalt poured to spill out evenly over the dusty caliche roadbed so it could eventually be steamrollered to form the new surface called macadam for a John Loudon McAdam who had invented the process in the early 19th Century.

Asphalt Laying Machine (I was the guy up on the back of the damn thing)

Later during the Civil Rights marches in the early 1960s, I went boating on Lake Kemp just outside Seymour, Texas, where the temperatures soared up to 120 nearly all summer long.  Except for sunburn, I don't remember minding such heat in the least bit.

After I graduated from college, that July, my college roommate and I drove out to California stopping off in Phoenix on the way to visit his aunt.  When we pulled into Phoenix around 1 o'clock in the afternoon, the temperature, posted up on the side of a bank building, was 118 degrees.  We stayed that night in a motel that had no air-conditioner.  I spent the night writing love poems to my girlfriend back in West Texas and don't remember even sweating in that desert heat. 

Yet, here in New York City when the temperatures hit even in the low 90s, the heat borders on the unbearable, a hellish heat that hovers around you like an unwanted ex-lover.  And out in the streets walking around, the sun attacks you both from above and from below, those rays coming straight down that miss you, bouncing right back up off the concrete and asphalt to hit their target: you.

And my dad's belief that air-conditioning is unnatural has been held over in my contrary mind and I have now survived 44 summers here in the Big Baked Apple without air-conditioning, some summers it being so hot in my apartment, actual heat waves could be seen flooding across the boiling air of my rooms.  After two summers of such endurance without even fans, I finally bought several large electric fans and those are now my nod toward air-conditioning.  And these rather monstrous fans do keep me cool enough though when the temperatures jet up around 100, which they do in bad summers here in NYC, these fans blow air that surely is the same as one once experienced working in the coaling room in the bottom of an ocean-going steamship, like William Bendix suffered in that movie of Eugene O'Neill's The Hairy Ape.  On such days, my only rescue comes when I wet a tee-shirt or towel in the cold water out of the cold water tap (it stays cold all summer) and drape it around my naked body.

Of course, here in New York City if you have a job, you are cooled by refrigerated air during the hottest parts of the day since these days every office building or high-rise luxury apartment building has central air-conditioning.  When I came to NYC in the early 70s, this wasn't the case; there were still office buildings without air-conditioning, believe it or not.  Of course, all of these air-conditioned hi-rise office buildings and luxury apartment buildings and hi-rise hotels put a hell of a drain on Con (and I emphasize the Con part of their name)-Edison's power sources, substations (power stations) which they have to be constantly building since our billionaire mayor has rewarded his billionaire developer buddies with permits to build tons of new hi-rise office buildings and hi-rise luxury apartment buildings at a ferocious rate; there seems to be a new hi-rise tower going up on every corner in Manhattan, a scenario that causes me to wonder who the hell is renting or leasing or buying into these buildings?  And I'm not talking small projects; I'm talking humungous multi-story million-square-foot floorspace buildings some filling entire huge square blocks.  Wildly developing with no concern about the future effect of such overbuilding on air quality, electricity use, dioxin and mercury poisons being spewed into the air...GREED (i.e., progress) leads eventually to CHAOS.

for The HOT Daily Growler  

Wednesday, July 03, 2013

Existing in New York City: Independence for One; Reservations for the Others

Foto by tgw, New York City, 2013
White Independence; Black Slavery; Red Massacre 

Independence Day

"We soon found that the white men were growing rich very fast, and were greedy." Chief Joseph

"I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity, and independence bequeathed by your fathers is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony."  Frederick Douglas

July 4th

The only thing Independence Day ever meant to me was a day off from work.  Yes, I've felt independent all of my life, but not because of anything my White people ancestors did.  My White people ancestors stole this land from its aboriginal people.  Savages, my White people ancestors called them.  One of my White ancestor generals, old Phil Sheridan, said, "The only good Indian is a dead Indian."  Then in order to make this nation work, my White ancestors enslaved hundreds of thousands of free Africans and shipped them in slave ships to this stolen nation's shores and forced them to put in the foundations on which the White man built this nation.  I live in New York City, a city built originally on the backs of the slaves of the Dutch and British and eventually my White forefathers. George Washington depended on his slaves to grow his marijuana and tend his crops and cook his meals and harvest his crops and wait on him hand and foot.  Thomas Jefferson depended on his slaves to build his dream house, to work his plantation fields, harvest his crops, wait on his lazy ass hand and foot, and his slaves' young daughters for the fulfillment of his erotic sexual demands. 

I grew up in the South where its Native Americans were forced marched from their original homelands up a Trail of Tears to be imprisoned in areas of this nation that the White man thought were valueless, the wilds of Oklahoma and the deserts of the Southwest and the frozen lands of the far North.  In my home state of Texas, my White ancestors stole this state's vast lands from its original Mexican natives; from East Texas out to West Texas, my White ancestors got wealthy off the backs of enslaved Blacks and "wetback" Mexicans.  Though the Blacks were freed (according to the Emancipation Proclamation) in 1863, my White Texas ancestors kept that news from Texas Blacks until June 19th, 1865, which is still celebrated in Texas as Black Independence Day.

Even though Blacks were freed in 1863, my White ancestors through Jim Crow legislation kept Blacks enslaved until a White President from Texas signed into law the Civil Rights Act of 1965, an Act that currently my White people are trying to repeal, the White-controlled Supreme(ly Dumb) Court (of Jesters) recently gutting the Voting Rights Act of 1965 so that the Republican-dominated State legislatures can now block Blacks and Latinos from voting. Racist White-dominated legislatures in those states still fighting the Civil War (which my grandmother taught me wasn't "civil" at all...she called it "the War Between the States") are already at work gerrymandering districts away from Black and Latino majorities and putting into law poll-tax-like measures like having to have a photo ID and proof of citizenship to vote, even if you've been voting for several decades past.  The racist founder of the racist ALEC organization in a speech before his racist goons stated he was totally against everybody voting, that the fewer people who voted, the easier it would be for his organization (now ruled over by the racist Koch Brothers) to wreck our economy, deprive unions of collective bargaining rights, control who can vote, and privatize as many public programs as is possible using the White man's greatest power tool: MONEY to get these dirty deeds done.

I one year attended an Independence Day party in an apartment that overlooked New York City's East River where the Macy's Independence Day fireworks were exploded from the Brooklyn Bridge uptown to the 59th Street Bridge (I refuse to call it the Ed Koch (Crotch) Bridge).  The awesomeness and thunderous boomings of those explosions were to me like the sounds our stupid soldiers suffer at the heights of the many wars started by my White ancestors and my present-day White brothers and sisters (remember, President Obama is HALF WHITE).  The whole flag-waving bullshit ceremony was military to the core, our stupid veterans, especially those without limbs, were honored, while our crookedest White politicians prayed to the Jewish/White Christian God, Jehovah, thanking him for our White forefathers and the "freedoms" We the White People of the United States was totally a White privilege celebration.  I don't recall one Black person being on the podium that night.

for The "Independent" Daily Growler