Jim Trainer

Warmest Greetings From The War Room

In Uncategorized on July 9, 2020 at 12:29 pm

…ANNOUNCING Consolidated Press&Wire Service–A Television Broadcaster, A Poet & A Journeyman Walk Into A Bad Joke…No One’s Laughing…Vice President Mike Pence Reveals the Ultimate Authority of Mother…Slow Turning in The Anthropocene, It’s The End of The World As We Know It and I Don’t Feel Fine…The STUPIDITY Of Using All-Caps

Eat or be eaten.
-Iggy Pop

The lurch and thrust of the final century is merciless and the 24-hour news cycle is no better but I’m on deadline so I’ll have to limit my scope.  At least I did for the wire but I got it off.  228 words on Zoom’s shutdown of an account hosting a commemoration of the Tiananmen Square Massacre, on May 31.  Cole Noppenberg, Butch Hamaday and I have started writing for Consolidated Press&Wire Service–a loose hub hosting content and reporting done in-house from outposts in Krakow, Baltimore and The Office of Jim Trainer right here in Austin.  My next 200 should concern union-busting at the ACLU and perhaps some new direction for the funds I have devoted to raising for them.

It’s unbelievable that the ACLU would practice union busting,” United Media Guild-CWA business representative Shannon Duffy stated in the Witchita Eagle last week.  Indeed Brother Shannon but in the final century batshit is the new normal.  Chaos is baseline.  Shock doctrine from the top down and flag waving all around.  Jabronies and YouTube pundits have taken to the airwaves but so have we.

Vanilla Ice cancelled his July 4th appearance in Austin last week, while the city and this state and country consider how to eat our own.  It rains all the time here, which is odd to complain about when otherwise it’ll be triple-digits into Fall.  The lizards, taken over since quarantine began, hold guard on the plank fence I can see from the writing desk, puffing out their red throats, watching.  In here some new genus of chigger has mutated and rose from the recycling, long past when it should’ve been taken out, to send me into volleys of minor annoyance and major rage.  Apple reminds me I’m out of iCloud storage every 70 seconds but won’t let me play Nick Cave&The Bad Seeds’ Skeleton Tree on this MacBook, new-to-me.  The work laptop is dead and, for all intents and purposes, lays there like a useless and cheap plastic brick.  ZME Science reports on the fastest-growing black hole in the universe eating the equivalent of one sun per day which is good news for those of us who’ve given up hope a long time ago.  Call me a nihilist, but, what could be better than total annihilation?

Another hot cup of black roast with honey for starters, or, wild sex for 48-hours in the loft before getting back to writing–the only work that sustains me and what Mencken rightly called the “Life of Kings.”

Tell me if it is still
possible to announce triumphant justice
and deliver the lessons of the new world.
I’m going to kiss your lips,
they are cold and taste like the word America.
The Wound Before the Tomb of Walt Whitman, Fernando Valverde

See you on the internets, Pretty Babies.

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  1. […] recall me writing at The Coarse Grind how I’d be getting out there and founded the CP&WS for it?  Well that was a months ago and Black Lives don’t matter to the media unless […]

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