The Girl with the Drake Tattoo

Makes as much sense an anything else this year

Well damn – only a couple more of these to go and we are done with the year 2011. Onto twenty twelve – is your bunker well stocked and secure? I'm serious, mine is woefully inadequate at the moment, so I am looking for more prepared souls whom I can latch onto When the Shit Hits the Fan (hereafter referred to as WTSHTF, in case I may need to use it later on in this piece). Ah but that's alright, come what may, makes not a bit of difference. Right now I've got a fire going, two lazy dogs trading places beneath my feet, a good looking woman reading a novel on the couch, and a one-third full mug of stiff eggnog; and plenty more where that came from. Live in the moment, and this moment is pretty damn good.

A Bit of Politics

“Seeming to do is not doing.”

-Thomas A. Edison

I can't resist – the longer this Republican race goes on, the less able I am to avert my eyes. It reminds me of Charlie and the Chocolate factory, with all of the candidates riding along and being ejected, one by one, in these increasingly horrifying scenarios. Okay, well, really only Herman Cain has ejected in a truly dramatic fashion thus far – but there are so damned many of them! The potential is there! And then  that humanoid bobble-head “The Donald” comes jamming himself into the picture every so often, making preposterous statements, causing a ruckus, and then disappearing back behind the curtain; probably feeling like some kind of discombobulated Machiavelli. He's amazing though in that he doesn't actually do anything. Then, of course, there is the specter of Sarah Palin lurking back there somewhere. They really ought to just declare the “fuck it” ticket and run a Trump/Palin or vice-versa package. They could pay down the debt by broadcasting a reality television show from the White House – primo advertising; get some Kardashian style money that way. Didn't I mention something about WTSHTF earlier? In the immortal words of George W. Bush: “BRING IT ON!”

Curses and Passion

Oh fuck me. This is not the direction I'd intended to go with this column. But I didn't plan a direction when I started, and so now the energy is just going where it's going. That's what happens when you send energy off unfocused, undirected, leaderless. Passion makes for a great seduction, and passion can lead to a vicious and bloody killing spree. I used to really make a point of not using too much foul language in these columns, but at this point, what's the difference? I mean, some cracked out chick got DRAKE tattooed across her forehead, and some tattoo “artist” was willing to take her money to do that – so what genuine panic is an f-bomb here, or the s-word there, going to create?

There is nothing shocking anymore; not when there is death and mayhem, blood and putrefaction running on the nightly news. The year 2012 is almost upon us and we still haven't figured out how to solve our differences without tearing one another limb from limb. So Merry Fucking Christmas.

Here's an oldie of the author, post holiday panic

madbob@madbob.com

Ho Ho Horror...

Why is there Never a Decent Panic Room Nearby When you Need One?

Okay, okay, let's see. My mind is a spinning whir of mud and mash right now. Between the insane political and economic phase we are in, and the manic holiday climate, it is wine wine wine for me. I hate this time of year - I really do. The holidays freak me out. I mean, I'm limping through the year, barely making the bills, the weather turns cold, I'm drinking more, trying to stay warm, getting desperate for some reprieve. I find myself wandering through the aisles at the 99 cent store looking for anything that will substitute for comfort food, and then the goddamn Christmas music starts playing – so fucking happy, joyous, maniacal. Bells, and choirs, and BELLS. I'm staggering and lurching, knocking over the damned Tupperware and wrapping paper in a panicked frenzy trying to get the HELL OUT OF THERE!!!

Deep breaths - I feel it coming on. I should be listening to calm, soothing music on the radio, but I can't turn away from the endless babble and chatter about the politics. Herman Cain, Herman Cain, Herman Cain. Jesus, the funniest thing I've heard in weeks was Herman Cain saying he was looking forward to “getting back on message.” Jesus. Europe is collapsing. Stock market down, stock market up. Jesus Christ.

OWS Blues

I feel like I'm on the outside looking in with this OWS stuff. I support the movement, for the free exchange of ideas it has generated, if nothing else. I get the general idea – people are fed up with a government that caters to special interests at the expense of the people. I've been upset about that for shit, as long as I've been politically aware. But the OWS movement also disturbs me. It seems like something of a Rorschach test in that it can mean anything to anyone. There are those who simply want to reform the current system of representative democracy, and those who want to abolish everything and start over. I can respect both of those points of view.

And then there are the doomsayers and conspiracy theorists who have latched onto the movement. They offer no solutions, no way forward, simply a myriad of demons and bogeyman that are enslaving us all in insidious, self-defeating webs of deceit and mysticism. These folks will make your head explode. I frankly don't get their way of thinking. If they are right, if we are all pawns in the game of some unseen caste of mystics who have been controlling events since the middle ages, then what the fuck is the point? I'm sure they've got it figured out; or else some tripper hero like Neo from the fucking Matrix will sort it out... or maybe we all are inanimate, living in pods, and being kept alive for feed? Again, what's the point?

I can't let myself believe that kind of stuff. I like solutions, I am a fan of action, and recourse. I like to feel like there is a way forward, a way up, a way out.

But on a serious note, how the hell am I going to get my Christmas shopping done this year?

madbob@madbob.com