Jim Trainer

Archive for July, 2011|Monthly archive page

the minutes 72611

In Uncategorized on July 26, 2011 at 3:06 pm

I’m out of weed, sitting in my apartment with the AC on and a 6pack of Black Lager.  The rest of the country caught a break from the hottest temperatures in 15 years yesterday.  They were probably tired and spent in front of their TVs watching the President last night or on Facebook posting about Breivik and Amy Winehouse.

I’m working class.  I will never forget the struggle.  Things are changing for me though.  After years spent spelunking the bleak-black night and “tearing the temple down” I might be able to claim some small fortune here.  It’s my life and it’s been nothing short of total War.  The real battle now is this contentment, dealing with this newfound peace in a new way.  There you have it-I just wanted to give you some background and a reason for the soft-focus on world news that I present to you in my own hack way.   

I didn’t listen to the President’s speech last night.  Does it matter? 
The Aristocracy of this country, ever eager to appear righteous, is up in arms about doing something that’s been done 91 times since 1960.    If the most powerful nation in the world defaults  all it can mean is that we (that’s you and I, brother) will have to pay.  And we will pay-somehow, someway.  Count on it.  Cory Branan was right “it’s hard work keeping the roof offa your head” whether the debt ceiling is raised or not.

We all know drunks and junkies and they all need help and the help is out there.-from Russel Brandts’ For Amy on his blog last week.
Even when attacking pop-stars and joining in the schadenfreude you are esteeming popular culture and the news media machine.  It’s a big cycle and you are a part of it.  All witticisms aside you’re just a consumer and “just another victim, kid”.  The truth of the matter is that addiction is serious business and a serious affliction.  In a situation like this the only valid opinion can come from the afflicted’s loved ones, the real losers .  To esteem Winehouse is to esteem the retro-soul movement which has been humming along in the underground for longer than she was alive and doesn’t begin or end with some of the bogus R&B acts of your zeitgeist. 
I attack pop-culture and the public at large from the  point of view of the working class.  These charades have nothing to do with our Rock n Roll or the struggle.  Don’t include me in your sentiments about some “27 Club”.  Those losers found that the only way to get out of debt with the Bank of the Music Industry is to die.  The rest of us suffer this watered down tripe they call rock n roll while being worked to death in the Land of the Free/Cheap Labor.

As many as 150,000 gathered on the streets of Oslo yesterday, mourning the greatest tragedy to afflict Norway since WWII.  What matters most in times like these are your friends, your loved ones. 
“All is as good as it can be here.  What a fucked up situation and twat, though”,  my friend Idar wrote me from Norway yesterday.
Maybe you’d rather engage in at least 3 or more wars for a decade in some quest for justice like the U.S. has done.  If so then you probably already support Breivik and his anti-Muslim actions and pogrom. 
Despite this nutter’s rampage Norway is looking like a pretty good place to live as we blindly stab into the dark New Century.

“I couldn’t believe I had to go through this in the best country in the world,” statesman.com quoted Rais Bhuiyan, talking about his attempts to stay the execution of the “Arab Slayer” Mark Stroman in Texas on Wednesday.
Pray for the living, pray for the dead, there is no future in the Land of the Dumb.

The Philadelphia Department of Health reported no less than 6 deaths in Philly last week due to the heat wave, leaving the rest of its citizens to suffer the heat in Hostile City.

“This is not the country I was born in. We’re a fascist nation now.”  Leave it to a former pro-Wrestler to state the obvious.  Jesse Ventura spoke his truth in a Federal Court hearing about the “un-American” security procedures in airports across the nation.  Fuck the TSA.

There’s nowhere to run and less places to hide.  Fuck it, maybe I should pull stakes and move to Houston.  It’s the fourth-largest city in the U.S., the largest city in Texas and I’ve always had fun there. 
At any rate I know things are bad when I long for the heady days before the Crash in the Year of the Pig.  Yay, I am perhaps “wishing for the days”  when I was young&dumb and newly sober on the streets of an old farm town in Delaware back in 07.  I had nothing to do and nothing to prove back then, when we were all enjoying the surplus of a War on Terror .  That town is as good as levelled now.  There’s no hope for any of us in these dark days of the New Century. 
I’ll see you in Norway, motherfucker.

the minutes 71911

In Uncategorized on July 19, 2011 at 4:00 pm

“get ready for confetti hey hey hey.”,

Robert Earl Keen was singing this on the radio this morning as I drank my Yerba Matte.  That hated dj came on and it was bad.  Evil.  A “if God is our Father, Satan must be our cousin” moment.  I listened as he announced REK’s new album in that plaintive, painful hippie-drone of his that I have come to loathe.  The album is called (wait for it) Get Ready For Confetti Hey Hey Hey.  I cranked off the radio and opened the blinds.  Between trouble&the Blues, how will we ever survive?
Conversely, Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings were on Fresh Air yesterday and nothing tickles this writer more than to hear from singer/songwriters, whom I admire, on their work and their process.  It’s always good to hear that it’s a search and its lifelong.  It’s a body of work we’ve devoted our lives to here and there ain’t no goin back, ain’t no goin back home.
but that was yesterday…

When I left the apartment at Oak Run I was on fire, just brimming with it.  Whistle blower Sean Hoare was found dead at his home in London and British Home Secretary Teresa May was on the radio , announcing news about the latest blows to NewsCorp.   As of yesterday the police said there seem to be no suspicious circumstances leading to his death.  Keep in mind, this is the same police alleged to have taken bribes from minion reporters of Rupert Murdoch’s NewsCorp that Hoare blew the whistle on.  Oh and is that right?  Get ready for confetti people, it’s the minutes, the news.

The British Home Secretary’s announcement was delivered in a formal cockney accent that betrayed her news surely would have nothing to do with dirty writers or crooked cops.  Well, it did, the Commissioner of Crooked Cops, anyway.  Yessir.  This is what you call a Shakedown. 

If potential Presidential candidate Rick Perry-R(TX) is nervous about going head to head with American Atheists Incorporated in Houston next month he’s not showing it.   He sounded fine on the air this morning with every bit of relaxed Texan drawl his handlers could coach into him.  Why worry?  The list of campaign donors made public before the wretched weekend on Friday show that the Dumb are on the move.  Michelle Bachman is in the lead with donors at the $200 level.  The Dumb are mobilizing and the Gravy Train has left the station.  Beware, and what’s wrong with Ron Paul anyway?  Probably allot.   

The sad&macabre news about murdered local musician Chad Thomas came down wire last week.   “You have to go through the rest of your life knowing you killed Chadd Thomas.”  Dylan Cavaliere, bass player for the Crazy Kings, was quoted as saying on KVUE.com Thursday. 

Pray for the living and pray for the dead as we blindly stab forward into the merciless New Century.

The Wugazi mash-up that came across my desk last week is horrible.  I am not impressed but then again, I’m one of those hardcore boyscouts who doesn’t even like to hear one of my favorite bands of all time in a bar.  I can’t imagine that Fugazi digs it much but I’ll keep you posted if I hear back from them.

in other news, rock n roll is dead.   no shit? 

“Sevendust drummer Morgan Rose has reportedly heard at least some of the upcoming Van Halen album, and has described it as ‘fucking killer.’”

Thanks for the heads ups bros.  As a former bass player, let me tell you something:  you don’t fuck the bass player.  Chicks don’t and without that thunder you’re band will fail.  What do you want from me, it’s the minutes, the news.  You want the hard stuff go to Reuters or nightwatch.  There you go, Brother.

The most pressing bit of news to come down wire for me and for you, my readers of the free world, is net neutrality.  In fact I’m gonna cut this short right here and get crackin on a letter to my Congressman.  The Decemberists did.  You should too.   

It’s hot.  It’s getting ugly out there.  Get yrself some HaterBlockers and go for a swim.  We’re living in Paradise and we all have to die.  Get ready for confetti hey hey hey.


In Uncategorized on July 16, 2011 at 9:15 am

Ask yourself-am I breathing? Meditate. You have to be in a difficult situation to seek out peace and a spiritual path and why? Because it is not advertised on billboards and not sold door to door. It is a hard path and not on a straight line. But the most important thing is to consider yourself. Your breath, your health, this moment. This moment is all we have-don’t let them take it away from you. “Slipping the noose”-there’s no effort there. There are things they cannot take away. The things that they can we don’t need anyway.

All of this sounds so grand and even though I do hope it helps there is something you can actively do. Take stock of what you are thankful for-let gratitude be your perspective-even for Trouble. Be thankful even for Trouble. Things are taken away so that others may arrive. Half the house will have to come down.

Breathe. Meditate. Give thanks. Go inside and continue on the spiritual path. Never surrender what you know to be true in your heart. You are a Warrior. They are easy. Don’t believe their lies. They want you to engage in battle. There is no battle. The struggle is within.

Hope this helps. Be strong. Be passive. Be good to yourself.

your Friend, Jim

Chuck you did it

In Uncategorized on July 14, 2011 at 12:53 pm

you’re yelling down
through the centuries
to me
but you’re making me laugh
you’re also telling me
about how you
used to run mail
and all that
you’re yelling down through history
to me

and for this courage
I thank you.

Curator at Going For the Throat, columnist for Into The Void, progenitor of stand-up tragedy™. Jim Trainer publishes a collection of poetry every year through Yellow Lark Press. To sign up for Jim Trainer’s Poem Of The Week, visit jimtrainer.net.

Screen Shot 2020-07-26 at 5.42.51 PMChuck you did it, along with 6 other poems and an essay written in tribute to Charles Bukowski, are available in the latest issue of The Schuylkill Valley Journal.

the Minutes 71211

In Uncategorized on July 12, 2011 at 6:45 pm

The ponies run, the girls are young,
the odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it’s done-
your little winning streak.

I worked 17hours in the triple-digit/Texas sun on Thursday.  I waited in line at the Post Office and the woman at the window told me that the US Post is broke.  Siguiente ventana por favor.

My rent check was still late and I never got paid in full for work done on my day gig over a month ago.  I’ve been better, I’ve been worse.  I can handle my trouble can you, brother?

There’s no fun to be had in the New Century.  If you’re like me, looking back you remember the good times to such an extreme you end up not giving a fuck about good times, bad times or rock n roll.  We’re locked into this madness and like the song says “the bid is closed everybody knows how much they’re gonna pay”.

On Friday we shot 1.7 billion dollars AWAY from the planet faster than Rupert Murdoch could jettison MySpace or  News of the World.  The space program seems like the biggest waste of money, even with the price tag on the shuttle launched Friday at less than a scant .04 percent of the 3.7 trillion-dollar cost of war. 

At least with something like World Hegemony you know that somehow, someday, War is gonna pay.  The Grand Imperialist Strategy is what you call a “sure thing” and you can bet that the “humanitarian efforts” of the U.S. are a better investment than real estate. Countdown, 3-2-1, there goes your billion dollar Star Trek hardon. 

Meet the new Boss.

I care less about America’s debt ceiling than I do about the ever-widening gulf between the rich and the poor.  In fact we’re working at a lower median income than 40 years ago.  What does this mean for a working class shift worker like me?  Longer hours, same pay.  Same as the old Boss. 

Maybe I can get a job working for TSA.  How hard could it be?  There’s always plenty of room for a side-hustle when you’re working for a corrupt moneygrab like TSA who values your safety as much as it values the adspace in the wallet and key trays at its security checkpoints.   

Corrupt TSA employees and yet another reason to leave FLA even if you have to drive.  But how bad can Florida really be, with year-long summer temperatures and the fact that you can get away with murder? 

The U.S. Government has ruled there is no medicinal purpose for marijuana last week and this little blip and byline can only mean a redoubled War on Drugs in this country.  Add this to the list with the War on the Poor, the War on the Working Class and the War on Anybody Who Doesn’t Support the U.S’ Grand Imperialist Strategy and you’ve got all war, all the time.  There you go brother, hot damn.  We must remain vigilant behind these walls in the land of the free. 

It could be worse-we could live in Mexico where 40 murders took place over a 24 hour period on Friday.  This grim and macabre news from south of the border could only mean that perhaps whole populations suddenly have the same motivation I had when I burned down to Texas all the way from Hostile City.  When they get here they’ll discover the same thing I did:  over here in America they’d rather work you to death.    

Things at JTHQ continue to look bleak and only darker as we bellycrawl into the New Century.  The only good news coming down wire to the office last week was that the trailer for Riot on the Dancefloor reached its $20, 000 goal on Kickstarter in 4 days. 

The film is about the notorious City Gardens, a punk/metal club located between NYC and Philly in the wasteland of Trenton in the late 80s and 90s.  The bills for the club in its heyday chronicle a still vibrant punk scene and all its fragmented offshoots from the good old days before Nevermind.  It also tells the unlikely story of club booker/Post Office dayworker Randy Now who ran the joint along with interviews of former bouncers, bands and a bartender named Jon Stewart (yes, from the Daily Show).
“Amazingly we reached our goal in slightly less than 4 days. It was kind of overwhelming how quickly and generously everyone jumped on it as soon as they had seen the trailer. There is still so much love out there for a place that hasn’t opened its doors in over a decade.”  Sicko wrote me on Sunday.  You can call it punkrock but I call it community. 

It makes me proud that one of my homeboys is doing something, anything, to relieve the monotony of this hands in, heads down.  This is the best news I’ve heard since I found out that Philly’s Thee Bad Vibes are playing and recording again.  You need a band with songs like You’re My Fucking Problem and Total Cunt Then&Now to get em off yer neck and out of your life.  Sometimes music should hurt and sometimes you want it to especially if it hurts YOU.  Nobody does it better and I do look forward to the next release from my hometown’s hate-core “juggernaut”. 

Hail hail rock n roll.
Chuck Berry

the key

In Uncategorized on July 6, 2011 at 1:33 am

surviving is hard
it’s harder
to live with
what’s left.
listening to this
this band sounds like suicide.
It’s 1:01am and I’m fat and I’m old
and I
smoke another.
laughing to myself
and for
no reason at all
it makes a space
between me and the everything.
laughing for
no reason at all
this is key,
I think.

the Minutes 7511

In Uncategorized on July 4, 2011 at 10:36 pm

Before we ask our seniors to pay any more for health care, before we cut our children’s education, before we sacrifice our commitment to the research and innovation that will help create more jobs in the economy, I think it’s only fair to ask an oil company or a corporate jet owner that has done so well to give up that tax cut that no other business enjoys,” Mr. President Barack Obama, Wednesday 6/29/11

I went to court last week.  And I lost.  There were no fireworks in Austin last night, I laid on my floor with 2 Lone Star big boys and smoking Stockholm Blend as the angry sun set.  This was after driving around town in the record-breaking heat, visiting friends and blasting  A.A. Bondy.  Amateur sport.  It’s what you do when you’re lower middle class.  A fine dream-this.  More like a nightmare when you realize it ain’t your dream.  Celebrating the rich, white, landowning males signing of the Declaration of Independence ain’t my dream either, Jack.  That Parliament of Whores had a whole working class of people shipped in to their American empire.  Here we are, 235 years later.  Welcome to the Nightmare. 

“How the fuck is obama gonna interrupt the price is right? That ain’t right. I want my Showcase Showdown!!!!!” my friend Sicko exclaimed on Facebook on Tuesday. 
The President laid on all the everyman charm that we came to love and vote for back in the Salad Days of 08.  Those days are gone but even without an Identifiable Enemy and a national surplus to bankrupt the everyman President(or Mr.Obama as the press affectionately refers to him) is just a talking head out front the Grand Imperialist Strategy.   The very same day that Sicko’s Price Is Right was interupted the Senate Foreign Relations Committee authorized our involvement in Libya for a year more.  Welcome to the New Century.
Now back to the Showcase Showdown…

“It’s time you sold your mothers, and get outta here!”  protestors in Greece raged outside Parliament in Athens on Wedensday.  Can you imagine living in a country where the government votes for measures that cut your working wage and your pension, too?  Probably not, we live in America, where they fuck you from the back.  Pay attention to Greece ladies and gentleman, now that you’re done wearing that stupid Uncle Sam hat and waving your bloody flag.

Thanks to raging wildfires throughout central Texas there were no fireworks last night.  Stores were open, beer was sold and people were proud.  Of what I have no inkling.  I enjoyed a perfectly shot-down, shut-in and generally depressed holiday off.    I haven’t enjoyed the 4th so little since the time I was locked in this hippie chicks apartment, my first summer in West Philly.  She was passed out, snoring, and outside you could hear the fireworks.  Her door was locked from the inside and you needed a key to get out.  Getting shacked up with her was the first of many, many bad choices I have made since I set out, as a workingman, on my own, back when dusk was falling on the Empire.  I had to cover her mouth and plug  up the nostrils until she finally woke up. 
“THE KEY!  LET ME OUT!”  I screamed at her.  It was a nightmare.   And those were the good old days.

 Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
out by the gas fires of the refinery.
I’m ten years burning down the road,
nowhere to run ain’t got nowhere to go.
Born in the U.S.A., the Boss


In Uncategorized on July 2, 2011 at 1:06 am

The Offices of Jim Trainer
Between Trouble&the Blues
Lucky Town, USA

Wiggs Daniels
Paradise, CA



Well, we made it through.  We were kings those late nights and the pale light of day cut us down the middle but we made it.  I don’t like looking back and I can’t see ahead.  Hope you’re enjoying the tranquility&peril of a sober mind.  Sobriety worked/works for me.  It’s enlightening to learn that the Beast within dwarfs any and all drama They may visit on you.  It’s like being on fire and walking through a paper wall.  That easy.  Your own trouble, aho now there’s the Problem.  But I can handle my trouble brother, can you?

Frankly, succinctly, peace has found me at last.  The only true and lasting danger is this contentment.  Maybe it’s my upbringing, or lack thereof, but I liked being a jackoff.  Can you think of a better way to spend 20 years than burning down the streets of your hometown in a Japanese 4-door with a bottle of Ephedrine and whiskey in the jar?  Maybe not but it got old quick.  Bugger all so did the body.   In a perfect world I’d still be drinking corn liquor, stowed away with Katy D on Hazel Street.   Thank the gods that we weren’t 25 forever. 

 Or curse them when all you’ve got at the end of the day is sweet memory, loaded and stinging.  Back in Double Aught&Buck there were plenty of women and madness was fun.  The chamber’s clicked three times since then.  The die’s been cast.  Welcome to the New Century, Jack.  Count your blessings, be thankful for things like shoes and kiss your middle class goodbye.  It could be worse, we could live in Bahrain. 

 It’s getting hard and harder to make it, Wiggs.  We’re clocked in allot longer than we’re clocked out.  The shit has started rolling and for those of us who live downhill even Wisdom won’t help.  We both know that the dumb only get dumber.  They get violent too but I’m in a bad mood so I embrace it and take to the streets.

This much madness is too much sorrow.
Neil Young

your Friend,