Wednesday, May 25, 2016

FROM THE LAST DAY THAT SUMMER LONG AGO TO THE NEW BEGINNING OR HOW THE 82nd AIRBORNE DIVISION OPENED IT UP WITH A "VELVET BOXER GLOVE" READ ON READ PLENTY!

HELLO EVERYONE HOPEFULLY NEW MORE THAN OLD FOR THE FIRST TIME I'M WRITING SINCE THE WELL HAD RUN DRY IN INSPIRATION LAST YEAR!
First a solemn prayer for all of us on this planet and this universe who are in danger and doing all the good hard work every day and every night and a solemn prayer for those of us who remain huge followers of the great musicians who have passed on this year David Bowie, Keith Emerson, Prince, and Glenn Frey. Read on now! Read plenty! Read it all come on everybody dig in
       
      -PRELUDE OF ANGUISH, PAIN, AND AWAKENING TO LOVE, CONTENTMENT, TRUTH, AND HEALING MY LIFE-
      There are so many songs about war. They are sometimes songs that get it all wrong and commit a serious horrible sin: blaming soldiers. Never do that! Never blame soldiers for anything least of all the nightmares they so often go through. Sometimes, however, they praise soldiers and speak of healing and sometimes they are about a soldier or the plural of that suffering from trauma, misery, and the horrors they terribly too often encounter. This blog mainly focuses on a song not about war  at all, but about another kind of loss: Lost love. I decided to give this prelude if you will, this introduction, after thinking hard and long about whether it would be therapeutic for me to state what never has been stated before or if it would hurt more. I can't hold it inside anymore so here it is for all of you to read.
      I have chronic P.T.S.D (post traumatic stress disorder), a horrible crippling at times mental illness often suffered by war veterans. The beginning was when I was shut in a closet with no light for over an hour by a "teacher" when I was only 4 or 5 years old in Nursery school. Then there were the terrifying experiences I had in elementary school where all I dreamed in vivid nightmares turned out to be true events of mankind as frightening as the Normandy Invasion June 6th 1944 and the crucifixion of Christ. When a little boy is having nightmares of being a soldier who gets shot and chokes on his own blood from the wound in a boat trying to reach his friends up ahead on a beach and when it happens on Memorial Day you can imagine how bizarre, unfathomable, and terrifying it is when in later years this becomes known to him as something that happened to thousands. Also, there was that nightmare of the bearded man being nailed to a tree and being left there in misery while the betrayers and committers of this crime left the hill. As we all know that was Jesus Christ on Calvary.
      As if that wasn't enough, and read the elaboration here, when I was 6 years old or 7 barely older than the infamous "closet incident" I became aware that something was strange about my sexuality A YOUNG LITTLE KID AND I KNEW THIS! I found myself loving girls, but something was missing. They couldn't protect this already shell shocked little boy. Also, why did I have to be like the other boys and go for long hair and frilly flighty little girls. I became aware that I was being slandered for my distant attitude to the vulgarity of the scum boys in school and my small size. I needed those bigger older boys who were protecting me. I couldn't pin it down, but there it was another cross alright: after feeling odd as a kid it became obvious throughout life that despite my intense hatred for nearly all things homosexual I am by knowing what true sexuality is all about and that little bit learned a million years ago when I was protected at summer camp that I am a different breed of gay man. If you are effeminate leave me out of it. If you cross dress and get campy I may punch you. If you talk with a lisp I may want to grab you around the throat, but that is the very bad kind of gay. Did I not say if you think heterosexuals are inferior leave me out of it? Well if you think heterosexuals are inferior you're a fool. Then there's that other thing I don't dig too much gay marriage. That I can maybe let slide. Those other things seen as benchmarks of homosexuality are perversions of the worst kind.
         Throughout school and throughout my existence I have been the victim of brutal and horrific beatings, attacks, and serious physical violence. in the fall of 1987 when I went into middle school I was tied to a fence and left there for over an hour and it was all the other kids who did it. I was during my time in middle school beaten up every day, abused by teachers, and in several cases thrown down flights of stairs. I survived it barely. The scars remain, but I'm a fighter and I will get better. One thing I don't seem to be able to get better from are memories. One of the most painful experiences happened in Spring 1988 when I was 12 and I saw the video and heard the song many times "I Don't Want To Be A Hero" by the British New Romantic pop/soul  group Johnny Hates Jazz. To see those somewhat older boys suffering, to see them then on the tank with the victory symbol, to see and be aware of soldiers was something that hurt me more than any of the past experiences and when all got combined it led to my falling apart. I would say a video and song as disturbing as that would sadly only hurt someone who cared. I said "Sadly" I should have said "Tragically!" What is a soldier was my question? Do you want to know how long it took me to figure that one out? Something seemingly  as easy as that? What is a soldier? I didn't know till high school and that was just the beginning, but through all my youngest years aware that something was missing something wasn't there. I tried to find out. I tried to learn. I couldn't. When I was in high school they became a huge part of my world. However, as you have read my past high school sucked too. It wasn't all bad, but I was a young kid haunted. I was someone who couldn't find peace of mind. I was lost. I needed to find out another question: Where is salvation? I leave that to the rest of this blog and I hope you want to read what saved me. 
           -THE BEGINNING CAN SOMETIMES BE ACKNOWLEDGING LIFE MUST CHANGE-
      This year 2016 I suffered two major breakdowns and while the first one led me nowhere, out of the blue after a second huge breakdown everything finally came to light right after I turned 40 years old on this April the 28th. Reaching out my hands into space into the cosmos into the stratosphere into the stars into the universe and all the distant galaxies I am still reaching and damn it- the same thing is true I get tongue tied. Words are hard to find. Sometimes words are hard to find because there is nothing to say, but as I tried my best to explain to the wonderful young Specialist in my new friend BEST ARMED FORCES UNIT IN THE WORLD THE 82nD AIRBORNE DIVISION USA there are so many it takes hours and hours to elaborate.
       I know what I must do and hard as it is I will not take hours and hours hopefully, but I had to start from the beginning and my beginnings can oftentimes be crashing head first into a wall until I end up smashing it open with emotional fists- too many words become just enough words. Everything becomes possible. How did I become a really happy and stronger person? Accepting and facing things many of them facts. It's that right there FACTS. After having a really hard time listening to a song that had for several years been a favorite "Last Day Of Summer" by the wondrous sparkling British pop duo Velvet Glove I wound back the clock listening to over and over again those lyrics so painfully illustrating a loss- a loss of love, friendship, seasons,  and innocence. Summer is a bright time, a cheerful time often, but many times IN MY OWN LIFE something was missing on that last day of the summer season as I reflected. What was missing, then? Hopefulness, love, friendship, seasons, innocence. I normally would have turned out a peaceful gentle non aggressive man, but after losing my innocence a million times and my faith in the way things are run a million times now I'm a fighter, I AM A FIRE BURNING HIGHER! HIGHER! HIGHER! How a song led to all this and the proverbial having to take an emotional fist to that wall I was facing is actually quite easy to say: I was in that song's shoes in their shoes twice in the past and it led to pain and more loss everyday. In "Last Day Of Summer" amidst the incredible arrangement is a story of how he's drawn to someone and then after losing them retraces or tries to retrace his steps going everywhere, every place they went that past summer and finally we hear at the end of every chorus "But On The Last Day Of Summer I Knew That I Would Only Find The Pain." Tell me about that. I experienced it twice: Loss. When friendship and love are lost because one doesn't try I reached this conclusion in the dire mess the song left me in: GRAB IT AND SMASH IT BEN! BREAK THE BARRICADES DOWN!
     The first time I felt strongly for a person was back in the distant past 21 years ago at the age of 19. I had just missed my graduation of high school with a near death poisoning by medication and had for the already not first time in my youth come close to meeting my maker. Confused, anguished, distraught, wondering why I was so unfortunate, "what is that thing that's haunting you so much" I asked myself. Barely into the month of June, but just long enough to have heard such gems as Spring's "Shipwrecked Soldier," and "Isn't Life Strange" by The Moody Blues, and I believe I was hearing things wrong most of that "Summer Of Bad Timing," the answer to my question of what I couldn't face and what was underneath the teardrops I soon found myself facing close enough to look right in the eye.  I went into a supermarket back then all those years ago quite a ways out of town and there he was: a young soldier roughly around my same age. No sooner had I looked him in the eyes than I was gripped hard by a veritable onslaught of emotion: "Ben Your Chance Is Here And Here Is Your Friend, Your First Love, And Your Protector BEN WHAT YOU HAVE LOST YOU NEVER HAD YOU NEED A SOLDIER, A PROTECTOR, A SHIELD, A FRIEND, A LOVE." All this grabbed me hard, threw me on the ground, and made me feel so utterly overwhelmed that no words came out. I blew it. No words came out. We stood there for what must have been 15 minutes me being grabbed by it all and somehow feeling as I thought I would be safer around him, but I was a shy and quiet boy and I fucked it up by not saying a word not even "Hello." So I had seen him right before my eyes with my eyes accepting, but not my "intellect" (or lack thereof).
           I would later after so much losing and so many years of losing everything nearly get it right just to not follow through and then suffer with my whole country and world in September of 2001 and that was when I was 25 and not so hard at conversations. When I was 19 it wasn't just soldiers who couldn't get words out of me it was through my disillusionment a whole lot of people I began to feel no love for. As I found my tongue over that year and its ending and as I continued to grow all my mistaken stupid circle of  so-called friends ditched me over the years. They left me for dead. And why was this!? I started to get at the heart of why our friendships were in vain: they only cared about drugs. Don't just avoid friends like that and avoid drugs DO NOT EVER EXPERIMENT WITH THEM! I soon ran out of people throughout the coming years to talk with and be friends with except for true real friends and that was when it started getting better. However, back to that day in September right before a ton of loss hit everyone with a heart on the horrible 11th of the ninth month 2001. On the way back from Montreal Canada we stopped my father and I at a motel and the beautiful scenery of West Point New York home of America's Army Academy (Bless 'em!) and my second time it was a little better only to end hard as you can imagine it ended hard for all of us with the loss of our nation's and the world's innocence and hopes. I had, to go back to that afternoon before the shit happened, that day gone up to a young MP (military police if you don't know!) in uniform to ask some questions when this time all that sparkle and shine hit me and we started talking and talking and talking. We agreed on everything! It was great! He was actually a true soldier and in the honor guard and as we spoke I began to do something I had not done in the past: I began to listen. I would later become very traumatized even more so by 9/11 to the point where FROM 2001 TO 2016 AS OF MY NEW REBIRTH AND AWAKENINGS NOT TO BE ABLE TO FACE MY OWN COUNTRY AND MY LOVE AND TRUE FEELINGS. When the towers came crashing down and all Hell broke loose I became a pessimistic and angry person afraid of myself to the point of a horrible crime I will no longer pursue: DO NOT BLAME OTHER PEOPLE FOR YOUR FAILINGS. On the last day THAT SUMMER I groaned and cried and was poisoned by medication again. DAMMIT! Now I see why that song by Velvet Glove means so much. My answer to the question can love be a trauma when you lose is a resounding YES IT CAN BE AND IS. I also have had many other experiences with soldiers and nearly all of them have been very positive. My answer lies not just in myself. It lies in believing that one day good dreams not nightmares will come true.
    -FINDING COURAGE, FAITH, FRIENDS, AND MY OWN BEST FRIEND IN MYSELF AND MY COUNTRY'S BEST THE SECOND AND THE FINAL PART OF THE BLOG-
    I am writing the lyrics for my first album and simultaneously preparing to go when summer starts to cool down and I get some traveling experience to North Carolina where the best army division in the world the 82nd Airborne Division is. I hope that as each day progresses from now to then that I will become stronger although the wounds of a terrible childhood and some mighty bad mistakes in my life continue to be hard to deal with. That said, every day gets better and every day I become less afraid and more connected to something true and real and good: the way that life unfolds better when you give and don't just take. I am willing to state in facts that I personally believe that we should no matter how bad a war is, and most wars are bad, never to put any ill feelings or hatred towards soldiers. Soldiers are real people too. They laugh, they cry, they enjoy doing good things for us, they are oftentimes young and oftentimes very emotional and very much something  we should cherish and not hate or not believe in and take for granted. I go further and I am ready to say that I love them. They are all of the four main elements and therefore the people closest to nature. They are earth, air, fire, and water. They are NOT TO EVER BE ALLOWED TO BECOME ANOTHER ENDANGERED SPECIES! NO! If we lose them we lose over half our history and a whole lot more. The final loss of innocent lives has to be avoided at all costs. The last thing the world needs is a repeat of World War One. I feel a lot of empathy with soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen. We go through many of the same obstacles and share so much that now in my mature mind and my new life I treasure them. The lyrics to my songs are deeply personal as are my writings, my artwork, and sharing myself I believe is my duty. It's also something I love. Take some of me take all you like. I give. I'm a romantic. Just give some back and you may if male receive a chocolate bar, beer, and/or ice cream and if female a boquette of real flowers not fake ones. I do not like closed mindedness or closed anything. Mainly on many issues I'm firmly wide open and I listen and feel and think and believe with eyes, ears, arms, legs, and heart wide open. Open up your heart and go find something worth fighting for. I have and I'm getting better all the time as The Beatles said. I think that as hard as it may be to take the first steps it's important and in the end worthwhile. I can trace my strong feelings about soldiers back to a very painful and violence plagued childhood where I was constantly the subject of brutal physical and psychological beatings and I had to fight every minute of every day to survive. I would not know my true emotion until far later in life because I was too much a victim of traumatic events and most of my friends were the toughest kids in town who I always got along with the best. I still do. I believe in people who take risks. I am an artist and a warrior combined who knows a lot of the pitfalls of society and the dreaded "Herd Instinct." While an Army is UNIFORM an army IS NOT MASS CONFORMITY. Are Herd Instinct people ever gonna be soldiers? NO! WHY? BECAUSE THEY ARE TOO STUPID AND SELFISH. To be a musician to me means laying yourself wide open through words, vocals, and music. To be a warrior too there must be an openness to challenges and obstacles and a "try it till ya get it right" mentality. You can't be a quitter. I don't quit and neither should you. I find a lot more answers come when a lot more questions are asked. I really want to stress my appreciation for the 82nd Airborne who are not just our country's best, but also the world's best. They are fast becoming a soon to be found family away from my dwindling own family where it seems we just can't agree on anything. I become more and more distant all the time, but mainly because a grown man must do what he must do and fall down on his face if he must a few times. There are no hard feelings, but there is a very big hole in our relationship. Staying distant is self protection. Staying together might not be the best option anymore. I spend a lot of time finding out more and more and more from the 82nd and keeping everything wide open and having a strong positive outlook. I have made some really good friends in the 82nd Airborne most of them  sergeants, sergeants first class, and staff sergeants, and there is a shy and likable specialist whom is going to be someone with a very bright future. Fly, fly, take to the sky BE FOREVER AIRBORNE! Till next time and till then all you gotta do is be yourself, but don't be afraid to reach out to other people too. You may not have to go through some of my lean times if you live the right way.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

MY MESSAGE TO GOD AND MY MESSAGE TO THE WORLD AND OTHER SUFFERING PEOPLE: TO HELL WITH GOD AND I WILL FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

World you have had your evil way and your evil destructive power over this poor shell of a broken man for far too long you have had it since I was an infant BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD WILL BE SPILLED IN WORDS OF MALICE THAT CUT DEEPER THAN A BLADE!
God you are a liar and a fabrication who sent your so-called son to die a horrible death on Calvary and you led Jesus astray and led him to try to bring peace and solace to a sick and violent planet. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WILL BE DAMNED IN FLAMES FOREVER!!!!!!!!
Mother and father your lying and cheating and degrading and backstabbing will one day lead to an ETERNITY ROTTING AWAY IN HELL!
I have had enough of being nice and if there is no civility from you then I will never speak to you again.
      BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!! 666 IS MY NAME! What leads to this condition? What leads to this state? What is thy name thou who mocketh me in my darkness and shadowy black oily pit of shame with mine legs torn off my body and mine eyes full of tears and thy voice holy brother deserting me?
Shakespeare you may ask after the last part? Heavy metal? Being led off the narrow path?
       I am losing my best friend to cancer. I am having to come to grips and to terms with not just the fact that he will no longer be there to advise and help me through hard bitter periods like he was able to do before he was sick, but that the world will the day he passes away will lose a unique special individual and I DEDICATE EVERY BLOG FROM THIS AND ONWARDS TO HIS MEMORY.
   Bill "Pennies" Pacquin is his name and I have known his entity and person since I were a mere bonny young lad of 14 or 15 years old.  He was my first teacher of the world of obscure and rare music and I was his faithful and loving student. He began as the man who enlightened and inspired me and it wasn't long before we became best friends. Bill is more than just an eccentric and a unique man. He is a gentleman too. I can say that starting in 1992 when I was ready to be his disciple I learned all about him and he showed me so many wondrous bands and artistes and albums like Kak albums like Gandalf albums like July and The Koobas and Stray's early works. These precious memories of him and his turning me onto Kak, turning me on to The Parlour Band, Writing On The Wall will be with me for the rest of my life and my entire time in the afterlife and next world.
  Remembering all the good joyous conversations we had only makes it more painful to be losing him, but makes me feel blessed to have known him. He and I shared and will always share a lot in common, but I can't bear that some day in the near future he will be in the spirit world and I will no longer be able to talk to him and have him to comfort me when times are bad. He always had solutions to problems. A lot better than fake recent friends who tell me to kill my own mother and father when they won't let me buy huge suicide deals worth of usually overrated albums! ZWOUNDS THEY BE THE LEPROUS TONGUES OF DECEIT THAT HAVE ALWAYS WAITED WITH KNIFE IN HAND FOR WHEN MY BACK WAS TURNED!
     I have, although I love my mother and father, come to learn they are selfish and destructive very misguided and materialistic people who lie as much as any of the other shitty enema tubes of fake friends who pretend to be artsy, hip, and classy well bred high educated cultured folk borne of the cradle of intellect and literary fortunes mistakenly lost in the rhymes of music upon the breeze that carries the same song as that of the cooing sweetly intoning morning bird that pretends to be the eagle and the dove when they are but only an old ragged vulture crippling the young and destroying the dreams that spur my soul. I know that both of those forked tongued high society of the literati wannabes will be reading this piece of crafted truth and I know that they may be hurt by mine sharp cutting words and may be bloodied as much as if by sword when I curse them out of my kingdom, but it doesn't change me cursing them out of my kingdom which is an intelligent way of saying get the fuck away from me now I need myself and myself alone without your bullshit! They lie down with swines and fornicate hogs. Until they die my soul will never be free from torment and grief.        
    They bring me much pleasure, but wound my deepest heart with pain and lies. Lies lies and more lies. Never listening to a word I speak. FUCKING SELFISH! 'SBLOOOOOOD! I HATE THEE! GET THEE GONE BACK TO THE REMEDIAL WORLD OF YOUR LOPSIDED UPBRINGING!
        I hate most people. Were I the Lord Of Nature and the Maker Of Man I'd cast thee out of thine loftiness and into a barrel of oil and deep gashes to fill in the candles in thine bodies to light and blow all of thee into molten ashes scattered like seeds of evil doings and wicked horror on the floor of the barn where thee lie with the meager crinkled jellied brains of thine heads and in the bed of conspiracy that thou hast made into the crib that born me into the disgusting place known as Earth. I will rape thee one day by turning mine cheeks and shutting mine heart, eyes, mind, body, soul, and door for you never once more to feast upon my flesh for your supper of blood, gouged out emotions, and fried scrambled attempts of my misguided compassion and love. I banish thee into the ground and cut your tiny minds out of your heads and stuff them down your throats!
    I don't hate all people. Shakespeare was a person. Bruce Dickinson is a person. Children are people. Musicians, poets, and voices of human larks and Nightingales are people. However, know thyself for thou wilst never know the black two sided twin minded face of humankind. People are gathering all over the world in bombed out ditches. They are shivering with fear and being whipped and tortured in prisons all over this shitty nation as convicted felons for the simple fact they are poor and have fallen into the netherworld of gangs, drugs, booze, machismo sculpted to hide the damaged and destroyed hearts of poor children neglected and shunned away from their own mothers and never shown the light of love! I have been in disgusting vile sickening psych wards of foul treachery where murder knows no end and savagery hath no bounds with these kids who are in street gangs and who use drugs and who are destroyed by their parents and kinfolk and tis so sad that it makes mine heart sore with sympathy and longing to help people who put up a wall around them and hardly let anyone see who they truly are. Wounded warriors let me take you from the battle to mine chambers and love thee like the eagle loves the sky. Yes, soldiers fall into that category of destroyed and desecrated. I guess that the good boys are disguised as the bad ones and the bad ones are the ones who are not boys, but fierce minded corrupted men with rotten pigs innards for brains who sit together at tables of treachery sticking their bare and filthy arse into the faces of the innocent and then covering them with their monetary corporate defecation. 'SBLOOOOOOOOOD! SICK! SICK AND EVIL AND DISGUSTING!
       Music be the food of love and life and dreams and hopes and music is the true savior. No religious taunting is food tis more like an ocean of slime that turns fouler the more it strangles and cuts off the air from the skies from the bottom and pits of the earth. I am making a vow and keeping that vow. NO ONE EVER GETS ANYTHING FROM ME AGAIN! No one shall receive a present nor even a mere card for Christmas this year. Christmas? CHRIST MESS! I'm damning the day to a vulgar fate and blackening it with Hell Fire! More aptly I'm somehow celebrating the fact that I've made it through the worst year of my existence. This is the only year in which I have succumbed in blindness to numerous half baked attempts to take my own life. I know I'm smart, but I also know I've failed my entire life. By giving too much thought to other people I've failed myself. From now forward other people will be cast out of my world and back into their fake world of materialism, violence, and treachery. If I could get away with what no one can ever get away with I'd do it. There are other ways of turning on. Put a Coven or Black Widow record on. Do something that makes you feel like you are worthy instead of bringing more demolition to the banquet. I love how Sting is able to create dark and sinuous melodies and soar above them with his haunting voice. I love how TNT at one point were able to create beautiful songs of love, redemption, and hope. Keep that word "Hope" in mind, but don't use it when there is none like how there is none for my best friend.
      I dedicate this epiphany to geniuses Bruce Dickinson, John Keats, William Blake, Lord Byron, and Shakespeare. Jesus Blesses you from the land of animals and peace for there is no God and Christ Mess is a mind made illusion. I will speak to thee anon.
Lord Benjamin.

Monday, November 2, 2015

The Best Christmas Is One With Lots Of Great Records, But Also Must Be One With A Good Heart To Make Hotspur Proud!

I don't know how many of you are familiar with Shakespeare and British history, but the Royal Family whom I really have nothing against and every previous royal family going back before King Henry The Fifth to his father ARE NOT THE TRUE HEIRS TO BRITISH ROYALTY. Read up in King Henry The Fourth (sorry my Roman numerals are so embarrassing I have to avoid them!) and look into Henry Percy better known and known to me exclusively as Hotspur who is my greatest hero in the entire world. He was a Welsh soldier/warrior who was the true heir to the throne along with his family, but Lord "Hotspur" Percy was vanquished in treacherous combat by Prince Hal soon to be the fifth King Henry. He would never be a comfortable person as he fought his past and never could forget it which seems a rather fitting epitaph to England which has been demolished by The Torrie Party conservative Eton boys. I keep Hotspur in my heart and I keep the soldiers who fell in combat by his side and in every battle before and since in my heart. Soldiers are great and the humans who are closest to the earth and the closest to animals in their instinct and what they consider vital. Hotspur shines, but as I've forgotten him too much and strayed too far in the previous two Xmases and they have been disgusting so now the everything-must-be-a-blow-out has become the necessity and just as importantly the loving of my eccentric-as-me family where my mother is by far the most sensible, but sometimes sensible to a fault. I love her and my father, but I'm getting sick of buying records. I'm not thinking of closing the blog or giving up my musical passions, but I am seriously going to throw the unwanted agony of year long monthly nightmares in record stores out the window. Christmas comes with a lot of great and mainly very cheaply priced records from Europe under the tree and then nothing comes again until my birthday. So how did I reach this conclusion? See the blog.
       I'm not comfortable in Amerika, but I struggle to think of where I WOULD BE COMFORTABLE. England has gone into the gutter and pretty much the world has gone all the wrong way and I find it frightening that people do not value things that are actually of value and throw everything good into the wastebasket. Money, money, money and more money is what the world is obsessed with thanks to Amerikan capitalistic rubbish brains who have been running our country into the ground for God knows how long and such things as not treasuring persons and already found possessions can lead to things as nightmarish as the wars and oil spills and corruptions that have become the trademark of the 20th and especially 21st century. Hotspur would vomit if he saw what the world turned into and so would everybody from that time in history. I know what Jesus would think: "My, the world hasn't progressed at all since I was on the hill in Calvary." Just listen to "Jesus Came Down" by Lake and see what the truth is. Lake had a lot of truth in their lyrics and it seems rather unsurprising that the talent and inspiration in German, Dutch, Swiss, Nordic, and British bands is a lot more emphatic than the half assed nonsense of most American bands. Hmm. Funny to think about how I was so closed minded and wary to chance taking back a million years ago. Not funny to think and wonder and not know how to fathom where all those past days and months and huge periods of time went. I have come to a very strong belief that my severely unhappy state of mind that I was bogged down into was very much of my own making. Instead of saving I was gorging like a glutton. Instead of thinking I was just acting. I even one morning a month ago got drunk and I mean piss drunk. It had to end. I went to a record store and spent too much money, but it was a pressure situation and now kind of amazing how well it turned out and yet one more time how I discovered a lot of good in an odd place. Fall outs with fake friend happen, but in the store I hope I found a good one in the wonderful owner who is way younger than me, but very keen on running a friendly and kind business.
       Not all Americans are bad. Generalizations are rubbish and don't even get me on a rant about the whole Israelis and pro Israeli Jews VS Palestinians and Muslims as it to be frank is far too upsetting to once more see the persecuted become the persecutors and the victims become the savage murderers slaying thousands of people every day. Apartheid has come back. Very disgusting to think how people never learn. I think of my relationship with nature and the intellect. It's a good existence when you don't deal with other people and their constantly growing more irritating irritations- I'm a nature worshiper and proud of it as Hotspur and now only his kind, soldiers, can have the closeness to the earth that makes one know there is an awful lot out there most people are completely missing out on. I see people in this country trying to make a difference, but I guess the issue is we don't have enough of them. I wonder what it would feel like to the founding fathers to see how their dream is forgotten and just turned into a boast. Like hearing a bad record where every word and note is cliched and the singing is more like a bunch of drunken losers clamoring for the inevitable roll after roll of toilet paper (Must I be so vulgar!!!!!!?). The more I hear what are supposed to be American classics the more I think we're really about as classic as some of the horrendous outfits I used to wear. Of course I should have sung and dressed like my blond haired brother Michael Kiske in Helloween at that time, but I didn't like Helloween when I was a teenager and before it so I equated sharp clothes with anything I could grab that had loud colours in it and looked like a hippy garment to me. There were more people who wanted to make this country and the world a better place than just myself definitely, but we grew up and I know we're all pretty disgruntled. America doesn't have enough values in fact the so called "values" are scary. Too much emphasis on power mania. I do, however, think that we could if we tried make this country into something it just will take longer and longer the more we procrastinate.
      Helloween are among the perfect examples of the huge amount of love and enthusiasm put into German rock and Dutch bands used often some very idiosyncratic techniques to make brilliant music also. Germany had a lot on its plate when the musicians who made the first musical explosions were born as most were born right after the horrific events of World War 2. As the country had to be rebuilt from ruin so too did the young people have to scorn their elders many of whom openly participated in such evils as Nazi rallies and hate crimes. Also there was the huge amount of tragic war dead who fought under a shroud which makes it even more tragic their good and caring side probably never will be seen by most people. Helloween, Scorpions, Jane, these bands are more about creating a powerful melodic hard sound whilst others go for all out lunacy like Amon Duul II and Faust or more of a quintessentially Teutonic form of symphonic rock. American bands who get and are now getting a lot of praise yodel and moan and grunt and fart. When I heard the first Pearls Before Swine album on ONE NATION UNDERGROUND several days ago I wanted to throw it across the room or break it in half. Sorry, I do not want to hear a failed psychiatrist trying to be hip when he's anything but hip and more of a hillbilly psychiatrist wannabe. That brings to mind Paul Stanley's book FACE THE MUSIC A LIFE EXPOSED which I am reading and getting a lot of joy from. Paul went straight for the Anglo vibes and hated American Yank rock in the 60s and so far his book has quite much of the time had my jaw dropping. This man can write and he can write in some ways even better than he can sing which is saying something as there is only one singer who sounds like Paul Stanley and that is Paul Stanley himself. I laugh, but then I go "Was the counterculture faked? Was it real and just lacked any really substantial music?" The latter is the truth.
     Millions took to the streets to protest the Vietnam war and the horrible violence and corruption, but the musical side of the movement didn't have anybody anywhere close to the few brilliant spokesmen of that era two of whom sadly are now dead. Lou Reed died last year I believe and Frank Zappa died quite a long time ago. We still have Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, and the most iconic of them all Bob Dylan- a man who has gone really far in making music a perfect expression of well-aimed anger and protest.  Dylan began as a folkboom protest singer and then became an electrified voice of revolution. Lou Reed may have been self centered, but he was really hip and he knew how to write sardonic and clever etchings of tough gritty life. I would at one point have said Zappa was the light hearted one, but he was a protest writer disguised as a satirical comedy rock pioneer. The thing is we did have some bands and not just solo artists who stood up for the cause of the much needed peace and good values and even though we had Jefferson Airplane one airplane ain't an air force and it wasn't long before the American "let's get together and love one another FUCK THE WAR" rock idiom turned out to be THE HOT AIR FORCE! The bands didn't know how to compose songs so naturally German and British and Dutch and Nordic and Swiss bands were gonna do it better than us and the Canadians were a whole lot better than us too. Germany had beat groups aplenty when we had frat groups. Then they had electrifying heavy hard power rock like Lucifer's Friend when we had the previously mentioned drunkard toilet turning into MEGA TOILET!
    Amerika could never get free from patriotic lying and boasting and that has been the death knell of every American band. Nobody breaks out of the industry and if they do you'll be hard up to find a great band who have made more than one great album. Other Americans at Christmas go to Walmart and buy a lot of worthless junk. We have things in our own way and a Mitchner family law is we always go against the grain! My mother has taste. My father has taste. I have taste. We have a lot of good things to live for just the three of us, but it's time for my long lost muse and best friend Hotspur to come back into the picture. On Christmas eve I will return to CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT a movie that includes the genius performance of an American acting genius as Falstaff none other than Orson Welles.
   Everything in this country is made uncomfortable and every experience is made unpleasant. The next time a waitress or waiter gives me the nurse in an emergency room spiel "Hi my name is CINDY AND I'LL BE TAKING CARE OF YOU TONIGHT" I'm getting up and we're getting the fuck out of that worthless restaurant turned hospital. Yes, I want to get away from Amerika. Hotspur would make the whole dinner from scratch, get all fresh ingredients, and once he'd completed making his feast that's when he would finally be able to sit back and relax and think of what sorrowfully never happened- A KINGDOM. My British friends in 1 Rifles are really upset about what their country has turned into and we talk all the time about it. It must be really sad to be a British soldier or any soldier. I think what has always drawn me to soldiers is that we share a very hard life and we could go really far just by being around each other. Hotspur was the ultimate soldier, but he's in Heaven now and unfortunately that is the price of many an ultimate soldier. Of course the days of chain mail and swords have long been replaced by the horrific nuclear threats and the war machines of guns and guns and more guns in Amerika and guts and guts and more fat guts in America and I don't like my fat gut and have every intention of losing it. Hotspur would hate what the world is like now and he'd probably run right back into the time machine and go back to the 15th century.
      There's a lot that needs to change. There's also a lot that can grow. I will be working on the growing part and I will snuggle on the sofa in December by the Christmas tree with my great haul of great music and be comforted once more by my noble Hotspur. Till then keep the love flowing and know more by asking more questions!
I might add that Hotspur has the most clever lines in the plays and is a true artist. Through Shakespear and undoubtedly in real life the man was a painter with words and a fantastic individual. I leave this blog with a very deep thought: if we had Hotspur be king instead of the fake monarchy we may not have the fat beer bellied nightmare known as Amerika. Don't wear bright uniforms in combat seems a good ending, but a better ending is to say Hotspur is going to come down from Heaven after being away too long from my Xmases and my life.
Ben

Sunday, October 4, 2015

HIGH ART CAN HAPPEN ALWAYS HIGH RECORDS ONLY TWICE A YEAR TO AVOID THE MISERABLE SITUATION I WAS IN

Off with the old on with the new. This year up to cooking a wonderful meal with my lovely mother tonight that is the kind of high art that can only happen through cooperation which can be always if I try was a monthly and sometimes weekly record fix for cheap nightmare. Almost all of the horrible things that have happened to me this year and last have all been my own wrongdoing and laziness. Well that is long dead and out of my life now! I HATE ENDLESS RECORDS AND ENDLESS MISERY AS MUCH AS I HATE GEORGE W. BUSH AND DONALD TRUMP! High quality great valuable records can only happen but twice a year, but high art and great times can happen always because all I need is willpower and I have it now!
   No longer will I scream, throw huge tantrums, moan, groan, and go crazy having an endless fall into the abyss that leads to the police coming to the house and the worst Hell there is beyond even the depths of the river Styx: hospitalization. Seeing that only one record deal this year was a happy one and all the rest a nightmare it now is fully over and dead and buried for good STARTING NOW NOT TOMORROW OR NEXT MONTH- NOW! I have been my own worst enemy. I have been an impossible, selfish, and stupid heap of misery. Tonight was heavenly and looking forward to a huge and beautiful time of no records for a huge withdrawal and just great fun times topped with a wonderful large Xmas is where I am. Fine high records are like fine art. Expensive, rare, precious, beautiful, and only something that can happen twice a year which is Xmas and birthdays. I was once a very happy contented person who lived off the greatest things in all of life and living and I now am back there again! I also am making a lot of sacrifices and major upheavals along the way.
      I'm a 21st century Ameriphobe I hate everything about America in the 21st century. I'm also a misanthropic person who hates being around stupid big fat white men and ugly nasty reverse racist black people and all the rest of the sickening endless parade of humans. I am happiest with real friends and nature and especially when I am having fun with my family. Most people are so stupid they would sacrifice everything to get that old demon MONEY. They also will try to kill you if you are intelligent in America and try to kill you literally. We are in a all or nothing state where if we don't learn now we're doomed as a nation and the world is doomed to follow us. I have firmly decided to no longer go out and speak to most other people here I am far happier by myself in nature and with my family. I have felt the disease of greed through records for way too long and haven't seen up till now that the endless record fix greed is as bad as killing yourself and your true friends for money which is what this country is about. The only Americans it seems who have any common sense join the Armed Forces or become hermits and naturalists like myself. You'll learn more from a Marine or soldier than any of the civilians for the most part in America. So what is the trigger for the sickness of the masses? They believe everything they see on TV reality shows and in Gung Ho macho movies. Most American males fatten themselves up on violence acted out on the TV and internet and then go out and murder people. The latest school shooting is the last draw! BAN WEAPONS NATION AND WORLDWIDE! Unless hunting, killing, and destruction are put to a swift end we are the shittiest country in the world permanently. Anyone can get their hands on a gun and I HATE GUNS!
      My withdrawing from people leads to most of my best art and my energy I'd far rather spend on me than on them. I have only two best friends who are also the two friends I have left my mother and father. My mother is a hard working and kindhearted intelligent person and the same goes for my father and they are getting older all the time and so am I. We all have reached the point where there has to be going back to the good old days and staying out of the horrendous violent destructive all-on-my-part recent past. I love music. I love great rare valuable records and the only way to have them is through long silent periods of saving, relaxing, and forgetting about instant gratification. HASTE MAKES WASTE! You can't have a William Morris fabric without thinking of how long it took him to perfect it and you can't have Shakespeare if you are illiterate. The same goes for records. I think the rareness of them and huge expense should go mainly to the artists and not to hawkish auctioneers, but there has yet to be that change for honoring and not forgetting who made such beautiful music. The only people I am comfortable around are the intellectually oriented, art worshiping, wide minded scant few in our vast wasteland of a country and world. Our pollution of the environment is terrifying. So is our destruction of everything our founding fathers believed in and the closeness to the land treasured by the Native Americans who are the true founders of this country. I think of the three homicide attempts against me in less than a full year's time frequently and staying out of hospitalization and avoiding stupid bloated violent people is the only way to make the avoidance of my death a reality and it's a narrow escape I've had. I now will not go where other people are and I'm not just sick of guns I'm F*CKIGN SICK OF GUYS WITH TATTOOS AND GIRLS WHO ARE CHEAP SLUTS! That is America: tattoo covered macho scumbags and girls who would love it if the grease bag trashed raped them so they could multiply and take over the whole world. I think the scorn shown to us by the rest of the world speaks volumes more than a whole encyclopedia of our errors. I once was proud of being American and I can never be proud again. My lyrics are too blood hungry to print. I use them as a kind of literary punching bag because within every animal there is a strong survival instinct and I am far more of an animal than a human in a lot of ways. Humans are so stupid they forget they are actually animals!
      It wasn't always like how it is now. There was a time ages ago when people lived off nature, loved each other, cared about the right values, and made amazing works of art. With mass media the sickness began and with the internet the rotten state of the world has turned a nightmare into a way of life as sick and obscene as something you'd find in the depths of Hell. I don't believe in organized religion, but I believe in a higher spirit and calling and the spirit in me is strong enough to rise out of the horrible predicaments I've put my life and myself in. The best music was made back in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, and most of it comes from outside the U.S. Canada is the very beginning as there is both the French and British/Scottish/Irish influence and it really takes off in England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, and Europe. People used to care about the message in a song and the instrumentation used to be rich and intricate. Let us remember the beautiful times that have passed. It's not up to me to save the world from what it's turned into, however, it's up to me to save myself and the people I love. Take a long breath of a sunlit autumn day and lie down in a field. Press yourself into the earth until you are like the grass and foliage itself and close your eyes and feel the art and nature coming into you. If you have missed all the valid truth in that experience then stay away from people who are intelligent like I am and my family who are my bedrock are! In other words IF YOU ARE VIOLENT, CAPITALISTIC, AND WEAR TATTOOS BUGGER OFF! TO MY JUST RECENT PAST INCARNATION OF ROTTEN VEGETABLE CHEAPO INSTANT GRATIFICATION THE SAME TWO WORD PHRASE APPLIES! THAT IS THE TRUTH AND THE ENTIRE REALITY! Goodnight for now to some and a permanent blackout wished on those who know who they are!
    

DISCOVERIES AND LOSSES AND ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS

It's been far too long since I wrote my last blog and during that time away from writing I have had to focus nearly all my attention on dealing with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and picking up my life and taking it out of the gutter. Unfortunately, for there to be beginnings there have to be endings and for there to be discoveries there have to be losses. Let me say that the ending and loss is a good solid healthy one: I AM THROUGH DEALING IN MONTHLY AND WEEKLY RECORD CHAOS! My blog focuses on music and records, but better to enjoy great finds instead of piling on tons more, getting greedy, and as happened again yesterday getting totally hysterical. I am now only getting very large orders for two occasions: Xmases and Birthdays. That's right I'm gone from record dealing, buying, selling, trading, and all the horrendous things that go with it.
      So what may you ask lead to this remarkable ending of a million year long quagmire? I had a nightmarish Deja Vu experience where a nightmare turned real when I went to a seedy trashy scary store in a seedy trashy scary town two days ago. Then yesterday when 81 records got me $300 I had a fit and screamed and sobbed and whimpered and became a hysterical bastard to my mum and dad which is the kind of madness and misery records have brought me. DONE GONE DEAD OVER. I now have put together a beautiful Xmas for myself and I'm out of records until they will be shipped from the Netherlands and then opened on Xmas morning. Also, I hate heavy metal now nearly all of it and I easily could have made this entry a railing against the kind of murderous and twisted childish rubbish sold like pablum to eager brainless metal heads by such noteworthy hacks as Iron Maiden, W.A.S.P, Slayer, Metallica, the charmingly (NOT) named Cannibal Corpse, Anthrax Korn, Tool, and all the rest of them. Aside from very melodic flirtations with metal and melodic hard rock and more album oriented rock and pomp rock which are subgenres I hate the major output of the genre heavy metal. This was another huge change in my life and one I'm also overjoyed about.
          I now have shelves full up to nearly the entire level with records and have been loving the discoveries I've made and listened to for the first time and also a lot of old friends that have come back. I'm set! New treats are endless every time I play albums as obscure as Thrills, Morris Albert English Version, Zerra One, What If, and numerous others. Yes the feeding frenzy back then was astonishing! It's odd to go through huge upheavals in your life and the ending of the gorging on record deals and the mellowing of my musical taste is something that is a very nice and loving, comforting upheaval. Winter is coming in late November. I hope for everyone's sake it will be a mild one! Like seasons change people have to change and make adjustments. My changes and adjustments are mainly based around the need for a quieter more productive life where I'm not wallowing in the gutter for year in and out. Music is a healing and great thing in the right and constructive manner i.e LISTEN TO IT AND TREASURE IT! I also believe times were better a long time ago and now we're not doing ourselves any good with endless wars and constant demolition of the environment. How we never learn and continue to send young men and women off to get killed and pour all our money into oil and other greedy harmful-to-everyone police state meets callous political and monetary interests is something that doesn't just make ME sick a lot of people are fed up with it!
       You could learn a lot from all kinds of things in life, but when the sun is out I'm a nature loving person who communes with the animals, trees, and all the other wonderful and by too many of us overlooked brilliance nature has to offer. There was actually quite a heavy movement towards going back to our beginnings and closeness with nature a long time ago so I know not where we ended up  turning into a bunch of filth so stupid that brainless doesn't even capture how dumb most people are. In case you haven't already figured it out I HATE TO BE EVEN IN THE SAME ROOM WITH MOST PEOPLE IN THIS COUNTRY! I could scream about it all I want, but that would be to not see what is so upsetting about the recent developments in America that have over an increasingly vicious period of time eroded all that we once had and everything we promised to bring to the world's table. It's not funny and can't be laughed at. It's a very sad conclusion you have to draw when your nation has become centered around nationalism which is becoming a worldwide plague. As for our warlike and inhumane behavior nothing has improved since people crowded every city and town in protest of the atrocity and tragedy of The Vietnam War. Yes, you could learn a lot. I have and some of us have, BUT MOST OF US HAVEN'T!
        I've been going on tirades. I want to end this on a positive note. My mother and father and two kitty cats are who I treasure most in life. I know how when my mother gets snappy, vicious, and moody on occasion she is voicing her disappointment at a huge step backwards and I know that getting into huge states of mania over records and greed are to be thrown out the window. Goodbye and good riddance. I look forward to filling my time with relaxing, having great food, watching movies sometiems, listening to all the great records I have, and doing things that will heal instead of harm myself and my family. I also have such a strong will that if there is something I'm determined to do I can do it. I'm glad about my waking up and the new direction life is already heading in. I know there's got to be some way to turn all the wrong into something good. Put it into the earth and let it erode then finally after the erosion flowers will grow out of it. Think about nature. Think about life. There is a lot we can learn from both. Cheers for now and will be writing again soon!

Monday, August 31, 2015

Living out the 60s minus the acid, the 70s minus the overindulgence, and 80s without the corporation overspill IT CAN BE DONE!

Some people never know. Paul McCartney said that. It was the title of one of his feudal songs with John Lennon which led to Lennon writing "How Do You Sleep?" and Paul in return writing the brilliant "Let Me Roll It." Think about that phrase. There is so much truth in it. Back 20 years ago I was already out about my interest in the Armed Forces (mainly soldiers and Marines) and at the same time I was a long haired wild freak child with a mystical expression who burned incense, listened to such mind frying psychedelic feasts as H.P Lovecraft's amazing first and second albums (especially the first with the haunting and majestic "The White Ship"), and watched war movies. What an odd combination you may say, but through all the changes in my lifestyle the hair may be gone, the times may have passed by and gotten ugly, and I now have for 18 years been an out of the closet homosexual and proud, but I still will listen to freaky strange music and love soldiers and Armed forces.
       I have spoken at great lengths with American, British, Scottish, and Canadian servicemen about the drug problem and they hate it with the same passion that I hate it with and we all have seen friends go off into drugs and die from it. Drugs killed the 60s off along with, as I discussed in my last blog, the violent side of the protest movement that took over when the flower power dreams died. Unfortunately, as time has passed now from acid onto heroin kids are starting with that! Disgusting! They take meth amphetamines, heroin, crack, drug "cocktails" and they die. You can't live your life that way at any age, but starting in school or after school it makes no difference sooner or just a little while later you're gonna end up dead. I never liked drugs. In fact acid, mushrooms, all of the drugs that supposedly gave you a "trip" I didn't need because I was already on one! Drugs are for people who have no imagination just as macho violent behavior like the kind that plagues males especially in Amerika of a younger age than me is for stupid nothing people who struggle with insecurity and delusional thinking. Both are a disease. Both could be avoided if people weren't so stupid.
        I had to lose my hippy friends because all but one or two went off into heavy use of psychedelics, but listen when I tell ya that music could have been made and those people could have been happy without the drugs which eventually damned the entire thing. When we reached that level of "Drugs are more important than friends who won't take them" in their twisted philosophy I simply got up and left them. I still am proud of what I accomplished in my resilient way of just zoning myself into other ways to get high and I miss burning incense and relaxing. Now I spend my days either out in nature which is a beautiful way to get into a real high and when not doing that I'm in my beautiful house with my beloved family. I was cruel and ignorant to my mother all that time ago in the past and she often has had to deal with too many of my outbursts, but now I value her much more and have a for-the-most-part much better relationship with her. She experienced the 60s. My dad experienced the 60s. I EXPERIENCED THE 60s IN MY OWN TIME CAPSULE!
       I could actually go back to the period when music was at its most fertile and things were really odd and out there by the power of imagination and blissing out on odd and out there stuff. I think that what gets into people, in fact I know what gets into people is a kind of cartoon caricature of what the 60s were about and those people will never know just as Paul McCartney so eloquently stated. One of the main reasons why Vietnam was the disaster and tragedy that it was is because a huge amount of the Americans were on drugs during combat. There is a very violent and graphic song about the kind of bloodshed that can lead to by the British band Deep Feeling called "Welcome For A Soldier." The song and that strange one-album-then-disappearance band had written their own prophecy- now almost none of them are alive. It wasn't all that, but with rock and roll and drug intake Vietnam was a very strange and very vicious event in history where it created a huge divide between blind patriotism on one hand and conscious efforts to bring about changes in society on the other. The problem is the same people who were shoving flowers up rifle barrels were shoving drugs into their bodies and minds. I didn't need that. I found highs in being with my mates and I found highs in being imaginative. 
     As of now I wish I had come out about the gay part of my personality sooner, but when I did come out it was Hell for me. I received death threats. I still get called "Faggot" and get referred to by fat beer bellied scum like the shits at the clinic who beat me up brutally as "that little faggot." Well if you think I'm not tougher than pea brained you I'm actually Iron Man! I continue to deal with hatred and ignorance. I spit in the face of those assholes because I know I'm better than them. In the 60s the gay movement hadn't really begun. In fact, nearly all gay couples kept it hushed and out of sight. It was supposed to be about free love so they called it, but this "free love" wasn't as free as it was said to be. I have had numerous females over the years try to turn me into something I will never be and it's sad to hurt their feelings, but I won't ever be straight. Females have it worse than males even and that is another tragedy of modern society. It isn't exactly modern to have minorities, women, and gays at the bottom of the pecking order, but I've always been about the bloody brooding dark mystical side of stuff and come on strong as the true eccentric I am so for me it's ten times worse in some ways. I would have had to suffer a lot of losses in the 60s and I couldn't have possibly stomached Vietnam. When I first came out about my sexuality it was after knowing I desired the same sex even in childhood days. In the 80s there was a brief ray of hope for gay people as new romantic and glam hard rockers often went for obscure references or even went for blatant androgyny. I was at the height of awareness when music was chock full of good songs and clever little double entendres. Then there was a period of huge insecurity and then I was all of a sudden a very frightened homosexual who knew it, but who was gonna go crazy through faking out that I was straight. A painful time for me that sure turned out to be.
     I think about all this talk of "Free love" in the 60s and yeah love should be free, but the 60s were a time of so much innocence that with the innocence came ignorance. I would have wanted to screw soldiers. I would have wanted to screw cops and try to win them over to the right side. I suppose I would have been same old me, but I don't like to use words like "screwing" because if you don't love somebody or even have a real attraction to them there is no point in having a relationship. Free love can mean venereal disease. It can mean a one night stand at best. However, what "free love" really stood for was that the cops could be as disgusting as they were and society could be as blind and idiotic as it was, but the counterculture were gonna be about sharing and giving out positive vibrations. I simply couldn't do that. When I feel something about someone I'm not gonna mask it and I never did mask it at all except my sexual and other private feelings. If I love another man or boy I'll hug him. If I hate him he's gonna have Hell on his front steps beating down his door! So were the 60s not really as concrete as I wanted to believe they were gonna be? No. There was something very true and loving about that time of love fighting hate. It just was done in by the draft and drugs.
       The 70s were about something completely different yet not so different from the 60s and the 80s were also another move further out into uncharted territory, but every decade gets done in by something bad and that is the tragic part of a revolutionary lifestyle. I suppose I was done in by none of the above when it came to the usual suspects drugs, drink, sex, but more so I was done in then have through time always rebounded. I don't give in fast or easy. In fact I don't give in period. I never liked even marijuana and I instead preferred playing music, being into my imagination, and watching movies like the colour Richard Thomas version of ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT as that is a movie that can make very strange things happen if you zone into it enough. It's a tragic, heartbreaking, very vicious and sad story, but I tell you the whole thing with the hot German Hun uniforms and English accents and complexions is very mind mangling or maybe it was just that I have come to associate that movie with the day I watched it and played "The White Ship" by H.P Lovecraft and that was a real natural trip! Soldiers are a natural trip for me. If people and music and nature can't get you high then you may have the kind of selfish disease that leads to drug use or worse yet violence. I don't believe in drugs or going out, getting drunk, and beating somebody up. That's rubbish. I can trip. I can flip. I can be hip, but I can't be hip to mind and body destroying and decaying substances and behaviors!
     I would much rather snuggle up and be warm and loving with a guy than a gal and that is not going to change. I would just plain rather get intimate and spend a lot of time with someone or with animals or with music than act out the kind of nonsensical lifestyle that leads to self-inflicted catastrophe. The 60s could have survived if it hadn't been for the damned drugs, politicians, and the bad cops. I don't think any of the neophyte hippies are worth their weight in anything because all they do is do all the stupid shit, act out all the wrong beliefs, and fake everything to the point I just want to scream at them "YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING WRONG!!!!!." There are a lot of very hip people out there today, but they aren't the fake people pretending to be something they don't have any true knowledge of. The 60s should be valued for the music, the political uprisings for peace and freedom, and not for the drugs. I feel sad when I think of what happened to two of my best friends and it was a father and son affair with substance abuse. Tragic and terrible. Joc, my very best friend, and I used to have a very loving and close relationship until he followed in the steps of his father and became a junkie. His dad then went back to being a junkie quite some time later whilst Joc was at that time and last I heard in the only gutter second to the abuse-of-power-and-violence-loving gutter heroin addiction. Maybe I am lucky or maybe I'm just different. I'm glad I turned onto soldiers, nature, and music. I can recall all the experiences with soldiers and marines and a few with sailors where we were on something really good and it was not a drug. Nature too I always delve into and that's not a drug. Music is brilliant and music for me is a life force. The advent of things like YouTube is mindblowing. Just avoid substance abuse and throwing your life down the drain and you can have more riches than anyone with pockets bulging full of corruptly earned cookie dough! That you either will learn or you will be one of those people who never knows. (Thank you Sir Paul McCartney for the beautiful words.)