Jim Trainer

ON WITH IT

In Uncategorized on April 22, 2021 at 9:50 am

FACTS:
The election was stolen.
Kyle Rittenhouse did nothing wrong.
Joe Biden is a puppet.
Gina Carano did nothing wrong.
Trump did not incite violence on 1/6.
Derek Chauvin is innocent.
Covid-19 is over politicized.
The vaccine is more dangerous than the virus.

Erik Bekke

The trial of Derek Chauvin is one of the three most important trials at the center of race and America of the past 100 years.
Shaun King

Every time I hear a political speech or I read those of our leaders, I am horrified at having, for years, heard nothing which sounded human. It is always the same words telling the same lies. And the fact that men accept this, that the people’s anger has not destroyed these hollow clowns, strikes me as proof that men attribute no importance to the way they are governed.
—Albert Camus 

Blank-canvas blues, ain’t this a bitch? I’m pitched up at the Whole Foods Industrial Complex. I loaded up and headed out of Castle Hill this morning with the MacBook, chargers, iPad, notebook, paper, pens and a pair of Sony MDR-ZX100’s. These earphones are as crucial to writing as the laptop and pen. Lucky for me the music they’re playing today is middle-of-the-road corporate fare, nothing too mawkish or cloying and certainly not the kind of rock and roll that is threatening, i.e. good. Whatever they’re playing can’t be worse than suffering the sounds of construction at home. The high whine of the digger, carving out tunnels beneath the street for Google Fiber, forfeits any chance of peace and quiet. Naturally one tries to drown out the sound but, for me, discovering I’ve been putting more effort into NOT hearing the long-suffering bastard machine than actually on the task at hand angers me. Anger is no bueno for your Writer and getting worked up would only mean a visit with the foreman and anyway suffering another of the rages that have rendered me constipated or incontinent. I’m still suffering with colitis and at times quite sick, but the point is I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look around or watch the news and I can’t report on it either. Ask you, what the fuck could I possibly say to the shit-for-brains author of the quote at the beginning of this post? “You’re wrong?” The nutters have sunk the discourse. I’d much rather enjoy a haddock filet and sip this peppermint tea than “argue” with someone that fucking dumb. Ain’t the half either as what drew me to him to begin with was his argument on Twitter that Chauvin may have saved Floyd’s life by choking him to death, being that he was on “3.5 times…” the lethal dose of fentanyl and “lots of other drugs.” It’s not that I don’t care about the rotten bastards in what passes for Police in this country. I just can’t stoop that low. The nutters don’t deserve it, for one thing, being that the basis of their whole argument is an unstated and full-on racism. The other thing is my aforementioned anger, rages that have found me here, at 46 without an intoxicant in my system and all my dreams of travel and conquest on hold and drying up. Homeboy’s not getting any smarter and I’m can’t help him. Or this country. I’m nursing my own heartbreak anyway and lamenting all that I haven’t done.

Being 46 is a bummer. Not for the mastery and typing quietly (hopefully) in a large 1BR in the live music capital of the world. Not for my mostly ok health, actually, and the fact that I can get out of bed and drive my car and sleep solid for 6 hours a night. 46 sucks because of all that I haven’t done coupled with the supposition that I might not ever. It’s fucking me up, Reader. I’m not going to be who I thought I was going to be, and instead I’m only me. If that ain’t spirituality and anyway an invitation to start experiencing life as it is or at least find for adventure as a personal journalist trawling the same citywide beat. Even then the territory for your Writer only spans the Whole Foods I’m in right now, the Office Max across the street and Little Brother’s on the east side. I thought I’d make tracks down the same roads as Rollins and Thompson but I live more like Papa, without the booze and women or acclaim. The writing always came and that saved me. You read and dug and supported me in so many ways. You bought the collection and were as integral to the realization of Jim Trainer The Writer as writing it down. I can’t deny that I’ve self-published and have at least been realizing this dream. It’s been a half life living like this, though. Suffering depression and dead after the catharsis and transformation of art and craft. Week by week, this blog has got me through. It’s been my raison d’être, my sword and shield and a reason to endure: bureaucratic fuckarounds, chlymadic cunt bosses, amour fou and even the bearing-witness industry of social media while rapt as a mark watching the world wind horribly down. But now I’m at a loss. The easy answer is often the best but when it comes to taking a break or sabbatical I feel my identity as a Writer is at stake. Without deadline I’d have to face myself. I’d just be…me! The truth is I used Art to get me through, and praise be. My heroes reached me and showed me how. Praise be that it spoke to you in ways I never could while trading skin in Babylon or engaged in the silly game of killing time in a culture that worships youth and death in equal measure. Without anger and trying my best to abstain from its foul humor, without outrage and without the drive for this quest of being The Writer, I’ve come down with the empty-canvas blues. As No Doubt plays in this bougie supermarket, intoxicant-free and at odds with myself and all I haven’t done, regretful and without love but ok, me, Jim. Ain’t this a bitch?

CELEBRATE NATIONAL POETRY MONTH WITH JIM TRAINER ALL MONTH LONG.  RSVP TO THIS EVENT PAGE FOR UPDATES AND LINKS TO LIVE READINGS, INCLUDING GREAT IRISH POET STEVE DENEHAN AT THE END OF THE MONTH.  IF YOU’VE MISSED THE READINGS SO FAR GO HERE, HERE AND HERE. PATRONS CONTRIBUTING AS LITTLE AS $2 THIS MONTH WILL GET 1 ORIGINAL POEM FOR EVERY DAY OF NATIONAL POETRY MONTH.  THAT’S 30 POEMS FOR TWO BUCKS!

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KEEP BLEEDING IN THE ANNO FINEM:
10 Years At Going For The Throat
NOW 
AVAILABLE AT JIMTRAINER.NET

READ THE COARSE GRIND AT INTO THE VOID

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  1. Age is a funny thing.

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