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.
L.Cohen
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
Namaste
jimtrainer.net
Going for the Throat 