March 2004 - Unseasonably Weird
 RayzRealm (c) March, 2004

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Friday March 5

"This is your captain speaking. Please note that I have turned on the no smoking signs. Fasten your seat belts, place all seat trays in the full upright position, stow all loose carry on baggage securely. As much as I attempted flying around 2004, the storm is gathering strength faster than we had anticipated. This might be a good time for all passengers and crew to take out the free copies of the Bible and turn to the Book of Revelations, chapter 1. Right now your co pilot and I are trying to get clearance to land at a neutral country's nearest air strip. So far they have all told us to go bugger off. If conditions continue to worsen, the flight attendants will be passing out parachutes and survival kits to all passengers and crew. I'll keep you posted until....or if we safely pass through the 2004 disturbance.

"Sergeant, have your men hitch up the dog teams and get a couple of choppers in the air. The bull shit has gotten so thick we're at near 0 visibility. Go out and find the others!"

In the opening scene from the Sci-Fi movie "Arrival" (one of my faves) a scientist is dressed in heavy Winter clothing and is taking pictures in a meadow filled with Summer flowers. She leans over to smell a bloom, looks up and mutters, "this isn't supposed to be here." As the camera pulls back for a long shot, we see she's actually in the Arctic, in the middle of a patch of ground that is out of place in such an environment surrounded by snow and glaciers. I've felt similar to her since the year 2000, none of this is supposed to be here or happening.

First we had a record breaking early Nor'easter double header in the middle of December, then record breaking low temperatures for the month of February, now it's the beginning of March and the weather is more like late April. I can't complain at all about last weekend's weather, but now they're talking serious drought if we don't get substantial precipitation from now until Summer. But of course the climate is not changing according to our beloved king's royal court. Temperatures here in the Boston area got into the high 60's, which is strange for this time of year. By the end of last year we were ahead of the curve for average precipitation, now we're falling behind by 5-6 inches for January and February, "Rummy, will you please tell your people to turn that HAARP contraption off and give it a rest or aim it somewhere else, like Washington DC."

I watched the 2 DVD's from the "Disinformation" series over the weekend. I will admit that some of the material was way out there, even by my standards, a drunk hill billy family that sets each other on fire, female guerilla theater troupe that builds a wall of vaginas, but there were some interesting items in each episode. I found the second DVD more interesting with speakers that attended a Disinfo conference in NYC. I regularly visit the Disinformation web site, but these DVD's were a bit weirder than the site of books I've bought that are published by the Disinformation Company. At the beginning of each episode Richard Metzger of Disinfo tells the viewer, "if you're not asking yourself, are they making this up, then we're not doing our job." This is a great DVD for those who are into high weirdness, but you may not find it in most video stores, and after 2004, you may not be able to find it again. It's certainly not something that our great spiritual teachers, Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson will be urging the national flock to run out and rent any time soon.

March has come in like a neutered lion cub and so have a bunch of news links and other fun stuff, a Whitman sampler of brain candy. For some truly mindless, amusing political pranks try out the Dress'm Up Dubya and Dubya Goes to War links

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Sunday March 7

Friday night I had another whopper of a dream. This one had me wandering around the apartment, peering through the blinds and checking the locks after I woke up. The worst kind of dreams I have are about being asleep, and then being suddenly awoken by some traumatic experience (is it real or is it Memorex). Last night I dreamt I was asleep and was shocked awake by the sound of the back door being smashed in, and loud foot steps, accompanied by shouting. I woke up to be surrounded by a group of military type police carrying automatic rifles with the little flashlight thingies on the barrel. They all had their guns pointed at my head, "the country is under martial law. This is just a routine house to house search for your safety. Do NOT get up out of bed or we will be forced to use deadly force." I asked what this was all about, which was met with being beaten. I could hear the loud sound outside of helicopters landing, gun fire, explosions, shouting and running. I was terrified in the dream as I was being held at gun point by a bunch of masked helmeted men, all dressed in black. There must have been a hundred of them in my apartment, opening closets, knocking over and breaking everything in sight. As suddenly as they arrived " I heard a voice in the living "sir, the area is secured and sanitized", then one said to me, "thank you for your cooperation. We're leaving now, but do NOT get out of bed. This is a matter of national security. You're safe now" Then they all tromped downstairs and out the back door like a herd of cattle, carting my computer, disks, books, videos and CD's away in boxes.

I tried turning on the lamp on my night table but there was no electricity. I got up out of bed to go to the bathroom, but there was no water. The house shook from the sounds of what seemed like hundreds of large black helicopters outside. I peered through the blinds; down on the street were hundreds of soldiers, choppers and military equipment. One soldier spotted me looking out the window and pointed. At this point I heard the sounds of tromping feet coming back up the stairs. At this point I woke up, but it took me a good 5-10 minutes to realize it was only a dream....or was it. As fate would have it, when I turned on the night table lamp, the bulb burned out; perfect timing! The dream seemed very vivid and real for all it's weirdness.

Saturday morning I headed into Boston to meet an a transplanted coffee klatch chum, Paul, who had to leave the area after being laid off with little chance of finding work here. He moved back to Vegas, but it here visiting family, so I agreed to meet him for coffee, lunch and conversation. It seems if I'm going to meet someone, it usually winds up being at Au Bon Pain for coffee. Now if I were president of the US of A, there'd be none of these stuffy summit talks in some secluded area or at Camp David. I'd have all the diplomats meet me out on the patio at Au Bon Pain for coffee and pastry. My advisors would be personally hand picked; Michael Moore, Howard Stern, Richard Meted, Jim High tower, Molly I vins, etc, etc.You can all rest easy, since I would stand a zero chance of ever becoming the White House resident; I'm a recovering Catholic, am a typical rent poor citizen from blue collar roots, am moderate to slightly left of center, smoked pot in the 60's and inhaled, plus I got a lot of blow jobs in my younger days.

I took Paul over to the Living Center as a guest for lunch (hey free lunch). After lunch we made our way up to Virgin Megastore to browse and then to Newbury Comics where I picked up a Gil Scott Heron CD I couldn't find anywhere else for cheap. The Newbury Street (their original site) store has been expanded, whoopie! I have to say I enjoy browsing Newbury Comics as the kids that work there are friendly, sharp, very aware and seem to work at Newbury because they love the media and want to be there. I got into a half hour conversation with the kid who helped me locate the Gil Scott Heron CD; he also had a copy. We got to talking about the Simpsons, Futurama, Family Guy, The bush dynasty and the Disinformation DVD that recently came out. He was busy taking inventory, but we chatted until Paul found me.

Paul and I took a casual stroll along Satan's promenade (Newbury Street) then stopped at Au Bon Pain for a coffee before he had to catch the "T" back to where he's staying. I stopped at the "99" for a burger on the way home.

As I type this the "Winter In America" CD is playing. Boy does this transport me back to the early to mid 70's, out on the dance floor at the 1270, Cabaret After Dark and Styx, dancing to "The Bottle" amidst throngs of people hooting, blowing police whistles, bare chested guys bumping and grinding with men and women, fan dancers. This was a time before "Disco" became a household word. The music was eclectic, blues, jazz, funk and R&B, with little known underground hits like "Make Me Believe in You" by Patti Jo and "That's the Kind of Love I have for You" by Rita Jean Bodine and Gil Scott Heron's "The Bottle", Eddie Kendricks, "Goin Up In Smoke", Candi Stanton, "I'm a Victim", "Do ya Wanna Get Funky With Me", Barbara Pennington, "24 Hours a Day", Ipi n Tombia, etc, etc. Don't go looking for any of these on any Disco's Greatest Hits CD's. So much of the absolute best dance music from the "Disco" era has never been released on any CD that I know of, or is long out of print. A lot of these songs got the heaviest play at gay and black clubs. What you hear on these "As seen on TV, disco's greatest hits" compilations that the white leisure suit, lilly white wasp set danced to was not the true heart of that era; it was black and gay. It's only my opinion, but I feel the thing that destroyed the gay subculture the most, was becoming just another mainstream commodity, sanitized for mass consumption.

So if you ever get the chance, put on Gil Scott Heron's "Winter in America" album, and queue it up to "The Bottle". Now turn up the volume, close your eyes and try to envision a crowded dance floor filled with people immerSED in the pure joy of the experience. We had recently gotten rid of Nixon, people were still much more friendly and open (even in Boston) than there are today, the entire country had not yet become corporatized and branded (Mom'n'Pop places flourished) yuppie was not yet a household word, greed had not yet become the national religion, the Reagan/Bush and AIDS era had not yet arrived. I always tie Reagan, Bush I and AIDS together as they blew into town at about the same time during the early 80's. The 80's produced some really good pop music, but this was the decade where I still feel in my heart that America was breathing her last breath before going into a deep coma.

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Sunday March 21

Friday: The dream weaver has been working overtime. I don't know what this means, but in my sleep my sub conscious has been busy as a cineplex on Saturday night; mostly showing apocalyptic Winter blockbusters and news reels.

I have not felt like writing as new and old medical problems have been wearing me down. My chronic urinary infection rages on despite all lab tests, seeing a urologist and a CT scan, which all came back negative. I brought my doctor a couple of articles I printed from a link via the NIH web site on chronic urinary infections, and it seems I'm not alone. After reading the articles he said maybe certain other tests are in order and it could be viral in nature.

I fell on a patch of ice back in January and landed on my elbow. My elbow and forearm swelled up to the size of my thigh, then gradually went down. Amazingly there was little pain and I had free range of movement in my arm. My doctor looked at it and ordered a set of x-rays, putting me on high dose Ibuprofin to get the swelling down. It seemed to be getting better, but then a huge fluid filled bubble began growing on my elbow and is now starting to make it's way down my forearm, but there's only a slight stinging. The fluid sack got bigger, but he still didn't seem too concerned since the x-rays didn't show any fracture or bone fragments. He told me to make an appointment with an orthopedic doc, who can't see me for more than a month. I called his nurse this week to state my concern, that it's getting bigger and bigger. She suggested I come in on the same day. My regular doctor was out of the office but I could see his assistant.

She got one look at my elbow and said, "I'll be right back." Ten minutes later she returned and told me they made an appointment for me to see an orthopedic doctor on Monday. Twenty years ago I don't ever remember getting the run around that I do today. As my friend Noel said, "welcome to the best managed health care system on the planet. You have to keep bugging them to the point of threatening to get anything done. I'll bet John Ashcroft didn't get the run around when he came down with pancreatitis.

Clinic: "Hello, this call is for John Smith. You missed your appointment with Doctor Mengela today. Please call our office."

John's Wife (returning call): "Yes I'm returning the call left by John's doctor. Well he passed away yesterday. The doctor told him he had to wait 3 months to see a specialist and his condition deteriorated. I brought him to the nearest emergency room, but they didn't accept our insurance."

Clinic: "Do you want to reschedule John's appointment? Doctor Mengela has an opening in 6 weeks."

John's Wife: "No he's DEAD, Goddammit!"

Clinic: "Well we still have to charge for the missed appointment since he didn't give us 24 hours notice before cancelling."

John's Wife: <CLICK> slams phone down.

As my friend Doug in Chicago said, "I wonder if they're trying to get rid of all the people who are not millionaires." If all the people who are left are the rich, powerful and arrogant, then I'd rather be dead...Jesus take me now! These people do not have a clue about real life.

Speaking of Jesus. I was contemplating removing the Area51 Chapel page. I grew up Christian, but according to powers that be, me and my kind have head of the line to hell tickets. It's scary, but I'm starting to believe that God, Jesus along with the celestial house, senate and supreme court are on the side of the neocons, that God speaks through people like Ann Coulter, Ashcroft, Cheney, and the whole neocon zoo crew.

According to a few of the self avowed neocon Christians I talked to, I got a lot of psycho babble about God is rewarding the Bush folks for their faithfulness with untold riches and that he is punishing the liberals, homos, feminists, abortionists, liberal press for their sins, that the rich are God's chosen, that Blacks are being punished because of Cain killing Abel. Well...I'm sorry God, but that I've grown to hate that "fucking book." More damn killing, suffering and mayhem have been rained upon the world in the name of God through sick people using the Koran, Bible and other "holy???" texts than almost anything else I know. Well I hope there is a God and he's represented by the Jesus who gave the sermon on the mount, the beatitudes and who healed lepers and hookers. So God, if you are that Jesus, then the ultra rich and powerful are in for some interesting times.

Saturday: I hopped a bus into Harvard Square to book browse and just plain get out of the house, having lunch at a very crowded and noisy "Johnny's Luncheonette". As I made my way back toward the main square I passed the shop that one of my dear deceased friends (Paul's) sister works at. She waved me in and told me that one of her other sister's girl friends who's currently living with Paul's folks was just diagnosed with kidney cancer a few days ago and she's in very bad emotional shape. I cut my trip short, catching a bus back home and drove over to Paul's family's house. His sister's girl friend is one of the sweetest and gentlest spirited people I've met, who has had a hard life. I spent a couple of hours with her talking and asking questions. I pray that she makes it through the surgery ok and that the cancer does not return, but from my experience being by Paul's side as he battled renal cell carcinoma, this is one of the nastiest, most aggressive cancers there is. I know God, that I'm probably way down on your favorite people list but please have Jesus reach down and wrap his healing arms around her; it's not fair.

Sunday: There was nothing I found interesting on TV last night, didn't feel like being online and could not stay interested in a book, so winked out at 9PM. I was up at 5AM as usual, put coffee on and surfed the web, then went through my books, cd's and videos, filling two shopping bags to bring to Ellen for donation to the town library. I dove over to Noel and Ellen's, sitting around having coffee and trying to help Noel wade his way through the mysteries of Windoze XP and Adobe Photoshop Elements.....frustrating!

They had Sunday errands to run but invited me out for Dim Sum at a new up scale Asian restaurant near their house that they wanted to try, sort of a Chinese/Japanese fusion place that was actually staffed by Asians and not Latinos from Central America. The buffet was marvelous, a wide assortment of goodies from the Far East with fresh fruit, plum dumplings, ginger and green tea ice cream for desserts. After eating I headed back home stopping for gas, which is up another 9 cents this week over last week. Thank goodness I don't own a land yacht; 8 to 9 gallons gets me through an entire week. Tomorrow I see the orthopedic doctor; I'm apprehensive, tennis ball size fluid sacks on the elbow are not normal.

Here's some mental finger food for you to nibble on.

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Saturday March 27

I got to see an orthopedic doctor about my elbow on Monday. The fluid pocket was getting so big, it looked and felt like I was growing a breast (sans nipple) from my elbow. At the rate it was growing, I'd be about a C cup in another week. The nurse saw me first, checking all of my joints and trying to convince me it was arthritis, "read my lips. There has never been any arthritis problems in me or my family. I fell on the ice 2 months ago and every doctor acts like it's ho-hum."

The doctor came in after looking ar the x-rays that were taken a week ago, proclaiming that there was nothing on the film that he could see. He told me that he had to drain the fluid out, cleaning the area, then spraying some freeze spray on my elbow. He told me it would be best if I looked the other way, pulling out a turkey baster size syringe with a horse needle on the end. All that I felt was a small pin prick, and he extracted two syringes of fliud from my elbow and upper forearm, 25 cc's to be exact.

I asked him if this would take care of things, or would the swelling return. He shrugged, "hard to say, but probably." He didn't feel a follow up visit was needed, sending me on my way; cold packs and very high doses of Ibuprofin, which hasn't done squat for the 3 weeks I had been on it per my regular doctor.

Within 48 hours the fluid buildup had returned, the lump now bigger than before I saw the doctor. I managed to finally get through to a receptionist who spoke English, and was old the doctor was out most of this week, but he would probably want to see me on Monday, so I booked a late Monday afternoon appointment to go through this entire process again. I asked him if a cat scan or MRI would be in order, but he felt no need to have one done. I'll bet the rich and arrogant don't get this sort of run around, and my employer provides very good health insurance, so that should not be an issue.

Hmmm, maybe next time I'll go in with fake ID, "Hello my name is Alphonzo Hedge. I'm a 12th cousin, 10 times removed from our president, George Dubya Bush. Now either I get some straight answers and service or I'll call my cousin and have him add your office to the Axis of Evil. Do you want that missey, huh? That's the ticket! I'll have the president call an air strike on your mangy asses."

Speaking of our beloved leader, he visited Boston this week, amidst media hoopla and fanfare, but nowhere was there any mention of protesters, which is hard to believe. This is Boston after all, land of tea parties and scruffy settlers hiding in bushes taking pot shots at British Imperialists.

There were probably thousands of protestors who were allowed to vent a safe distance from our cherished prez. They probably were allowed to gather in a barbed wire pen somewhere out around Worcester, where they could scream their hearts out, safely out of camera view. If he's so loved, why is it that only millionaires and other assorted riff-raff are allowed within check signing distance of him?

One Boston news report said that he doesn't come here to garner many votes, but to collect money; $1.2 million in swag was carried off from Beantown on this trip. The report also said that food and drink was not served at this fund raiser to cut costs. Jeeezzuus H. Keeyyyrisst, the repugs have more money in their reelection war chest than the entire GDP of some 3rd world countries. The least he could have done was buy everyone a McDonald's happy meal, or some day old Krispy Kreme donuts, or he could have written a petty cash check against Social Security and treated all of this $2000 benefactors to oysters Rockefeller, pressed pheasant with a nice glass of Chateau Rothschild.

Reverend Billy Joe, Jim-Bob Tagget, Rabbi Irving Bumberger, Father Guido Spumoni and Mullah Abdula Sheik Yerbuti of the Area51 Interfaith coalition have reported that they recently received a voice mail message from the Lord on the God Phone, transcript follows.

"Yo God here! What's going on down there. I'm hearing a lot of screaming, explosions and gun fire. Are you people fighting yet a-g-a-i-n! My voice mail box is full again with petitions from the poor and downtrodden, and it's mostly gnashing of teeth, despair and hunger for justice from the poorest among you.

I send my only son down there a scant 2000 years ago with a message for all of you, love your neighbor, play nice, don't fight, don't kill, don't covet, take care of the poor, heal the sick and elderly, share your wealth with those in need, turn the other cheek, yadda, yadda. Read the book dammit, the Gospels in particular. So what do you do in response to his visit; fight, kill, slander, cheat, steal, screw around and stab each other in the back. Geeesh do you people use your heads for hat racks, I swear you all have the attention span of crack babies!"

I see nothing has changed since the time of Moses. I call him for a brief staff meeting to deliver some basic guidelines for the Jews. He's not gone for 5 minutes and they're worshipping a golden cow. Gee thanks a lot, you put a cow before me, your divine creator. I didn't think it could get much worse than that, but I was mistaken; you're worshipping money, looks and power, fawn over movie stars and some of you are still waiting for the return of Elvis. Then there's the tree, rock and shrubbery worshipping set (muffled laugh). If this is what's "really" important to you, then you are well along on the road to destruction.

I'm a patient and generous God, I give you a nice place to live, and what do you do? You've made a mess out of the place, parceling out the world I gave you freely to the highest bidder. I expected all of you to at least keep the planet clean, but no mere mortal can survive for long in all that dirty water and air. And what you have done to the food I left for you in the garden, I wouldn't even eat it! I give you all the basic elements and what do you do, conspire among yourselves how to make bigger and more lethal weapons from them.

My son chased the money changers out of the temple to make a point, but all you do now is wheel and deal in money; I see nothing has changed. Well get your noses out of your stock stock portfolios and look up here. Yeah it's me, God, the CEO of the entire universe, telling your to cash in all of the wealth you've amassed, sell the Lexus and Summer home and give the money to the poor.

There are billions who have nothing to eat or wear, and then ther are those who own 500 pairs of shoes. Why does a-n-y-o-n-e need 500 pairs of shoes, while the majority hunger and thirst? Remember man does NOT live by shoes or money alone, but I guess you've gorgotten that. (sigh)

And I have a couple of other things to say. I do not endorse any political party, so tell the Republicans to put a sock in it and I don't have morning coffee with your far right wing fundamentalists, despite their claims. They'll have a lot of explaining to do when I send my son down there. Their hearts are full of dead men's bones. I don't remember telling anyone that they would get any favors from me for flying airplanes into tall buildings, so stop causing mayhem in my name if you know what's good for you.

Stop listening to Satan will ya! I know he dresses nice and looks so professional, and could talk the gold fillings out of a poor old widow. Hello, he's a lair, thief and murderer who would make any of your dime store despots look like choir boys in comparison.

That's all I have to say for now. Don't make me have to come back down there again soon, cause there will be a lot of ass kicking, taking names and explaining to do.

Peace be with you my beloved children (sounds of sobs in background)"

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Here's the end of month news harvest for the week.

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Shalom, Ray