12/5/1989

Mudhoney last night. First band, The Dark Side, and then Mega City Four followed. First band was pretty lame. 2nd was OK, but not worth the Death Violence crush pit that went on. Mud Honey…

Andy, Maura, Samantha, Jill, Julie (crazy Julie), some other girl from downstairs, who is one of those girls that you can’t tell if they are cute or not, and me standing in front of the middle stage with barricade.

BOOM! Out of nowhere comes MCF and the crush just materialized with the first note and only got worse. Beer, just bought, flying everywhere and by the end of the first song only Samantha and I remained (I buffering her from a bruising, crushing wall of death-flesh) and stayed for the whole long, tiring show, getting stage dove upon and I almost in a fight with long-haired drunk who tried to use me to climb onto the stage and me elbowing him down “Fuck you” “FUCK YOU” the simultaneous grab and death stares his saying “I’m gonna hit you” and mine saying “That’ll be the last thing you do tonight” and really fucking meaning it and he backed down and every time he came near me I would punch him in the ribs.

Soon the stage diving got to be too much as Samantha went down once and me twice and both of us getting kicked in the head by combat boots and at the end I had a fat lip and bloody ears. So I would knock wannabe divers over the barricade slam on the floor and grab airbournes by the shirt and throw them honest to god down wham on the floor, more than a half dozen of these, and man was I fuckin’ pissed off and started yelling between songs that stagediving was for 15-year-olds and pussies. Show’s over. Julie at last report was piss drunk and no one knows where she is.

Home we go and within 20 mins Julie comes through the door with The Dark Side and their manager and sound guy and two girls, one very cute, and hash cigs blaze and cups of tea for everyone several times and even PB&J on peta bread. Very quiet fast (1 hour) post-gig party and to counteract the hash the manager blows a line and they are gone out the door into the night.

On the Tube coming home, it is me and four girls. Three drunk and high punks target the girls. No way, muthafucks, I’m still pissed off and pumped up and sober! Mild harassment as we four males sat facing they four females and not to claim to be a hero but just doing a saint’s job let the bastards know that they were going to do nothing. One did not get the clue and followed us off the train and claiming to be in love with Cute-Or-Not and I stop walking and wait for them to catch up with me and he sees me and knows now that I mean it and runs back towards the train. Not out of the station yet but up two long escalators and BOOM he is there bugging her again but soon leaves.

Today I found the spiciest pizza (Prima Pasta near Queensway Tube stop), Americana Hot. I looked for my next JK book as “Logic” blows but only found “On the Road”. Into Tower Records for a “Bible” tape of Faith, or 17 Seconds, or Joy or NO and came away with Closer and Unknown Pleasures. The full Bible.

Postcards wrote and off to see where Jack the Ripper ripped. What a poor depressing area. Death and murders going on to this day. Bums sleeping under parking garage lip and it would be very easy to “lose your shit” and go totally psychotically crazy living here…even today. Doomed out old abandoned school rising up out of junk field with light blue night sky and low white puffy clouds racing by…even the clouds did not want to be here…and the guide tells us that last month a bum was killed inside so I made Samantha take a picture of it because it was spookier than the spookiest thing Hollywood could ever dream up because this was real and Jack lived not three blocks from it and you could still feel the coldness loneliness mad craziness violence of his atrocities.

cockroach

one more time, his eyes all burned and
tweaked and cold and snuffed
he gripped the edges of the chair.

she had shifted across him again,
held the glass and smiled. his legs were
cumbersome. he was really nothing at all.

the ice in the drink was the only sound in the room.

‘look, up over there, there’s something moving…”

he looked up too and clutched her thigh, strained
to see above. she laughed and took out a
cigarette. he felt heavy and couldn’t see anything, just ceiling.

he looked down at the old carpet, and she handed him the glass.
she thought of stairways and automobile.
she thought of the cool night outside.

and the cockroach up on the wall behind him slid into a crevice.

reunion

Friendship may fade,
as the lives of people
we know create trajectories
that shape a present tense.

The reunion of my graduating class
is to set to commence
in two weeks, when i receive
a phone call
from my close friend Thomas.

“You need to go to the reunion.”

“No, actually you do. The Loner’s wife is on the committee and
you need to go.”

The Loner was a long time friend
of Thomas, but was only an acquaintance of mine.

“Ok, I’ll go. But if i have a bad night
it’s on you.”

“Hahahaha, Ok Kid. I’ll take that bet.
We got along with everyone at the time.”

“It’s about time you walked over here to talk to me…”

Caroline was way ahead of the curve in the 1980’s.
She held a multi-band concert
in her parents backyard
in late August 1985.
It was my first
proper gig as a musician.

At the reunion, Caroline asks me a question.

“Why are you not on Facebook?”

I reply, “I am. I use a fake name.”

“So, who are you?”

“It’s under Ellery Twining.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you can’t search for my real name
on the platform for anything.”

“Do you have something to hide?” she asks,
simultaneously coy and probing.

“Of course not! But, someday, you will
regret using your real name
on social media.”

“oh, Ellery, some things don’t change…..”

A month later, i receive
an email from Caroline.

“Hey ELLERY! My friends and i think
it’s so funny
that you use a fake name
on Facebook!”

My reply was simple.

” I find it hard to believe
that you, and all of your friends
have three name profiles:

Joyce Burr Carpenter
Caroline Williams Smith
Sage Scott Anderson”

Our conversation eventually
led to a humorous
evaluation
of a shared morality.
Caroline invited me
to attend a dinner
at her summer rental~
a house at the end of
Cedar Point Road.

The evening immediately dissolves into
predictable tropes.
The women congregate on the patio.
The men gather on the
first floor deck.

“I have an incredible picture of this waitress from
my last business trip. Do you guys want to see it?”

He turns his phone to an angle
where we could all see the image.

“Will you look at that… hooo boy!”

Thomas and i I looked directly at each other.

I immediately knew
i had to suppress
this information,
as something i could not reveal.

I thought I was protecting Caroline.

I was not.

I was afraid.

last quarter moon

The LAST QUARTER MOON occurs on Tuesday, October 2, 2018, at 5:45 AM EDT.

On Tuesday morning, the Last Quarter Moon is exact, when the Sun in Libra squares the Moon in Cancer.

“The Last Quarter Moon phase points to some sort of crisis of consciousness. After basking in the awareness symbolized by the full light of the Moon at the time of last week’s Full Moon, we disperse our knowledge and come to a point when we need to sort out what works for us–and what doesn’t–in preparation for next week’s New Moon, when something new is born once again. This is not the best time to start a major project, as the decreasing light of the Moon symbolizes a descent into unconsciousness. It’s time to begin finishing up the details of that which was conceived at the last New Moon. What revelations did you have last week? What did they mean for you? What can be done now?”
https://cafeastrology.com/thisweekinastrology.html
Kodak 5063 Tri-X film
Photograph by Michelle Gemma

Seventeen Seconds

1.   “A Reflection”
2.   “Play for Today”
3.   “Secrets”
4.   “In Your House”
5.   “Three”
6.   “The Final Sound”
7.   “A Forest”
8.   “M”
9.   “At Night”
10.   “Seventeen Seconds”

Photo Narrative
“Seventeen Seconds”
featuring Model: Titus Abad
all Photographs by Michelle Gemma
Eolia Mansion at Harkness Park, Waterford,  CT  USA
Photo Captions  from the album “Seventeen Seconds” by the Cure (1980) Fiction Records
I picked up this album in 1992 at the Heathrow Airport in London on a trip with my friend Matthew Hannan, on our way back from a visit to Megen Cox in Scotland.
An important trip as I brought a camera along and shot my very first roll of film, almost completely damaged by the airport x-ray. But the remaining frames, developed with assistance by Matthew Mclaughlin at the first Greenman Collective at Alice Court in Pawcatuck, Connecticut, led to the cover shot for Green, the Red Beard, a book of poems by Hannan, on Hozomeen Press.  Full Circle, here we are, together again at PortFire.

12/03/1989

12/03/1989

Walk in Hyde Park today. Cold Day Grey cold and lonely. I have a London cold and am completely stuffed up. What am I supposed to expect would happen? More beer than food. But this is slowing down as I am spending far too much cash.

Hyde Park with bare, black bark, bough bent trees, wilting from centuries of cold destruction, would make a very nice cemetery. I looked for the Peter Pan statue that was erected overnight as a surprise for the kids at a playground, now closed down due to vandalism and too many years of use, but could not find him. Saw Victoria and an amazing elven inn carved out of a great old dead tree 15’ high with little elves and animals painted and carved into it. You just do not see things like that in America, but I find day by day that USA is the place to be whoever whatever you are or want to be.

Tonight’s dinner at Fatso’s Pasta Joint. £2.95 all you can eat. Three bowls, two Cokes and one beer. I fell in love with this very cute blonde girl who I even caught looking at me in interest more than a few times and I do not feel bad about this because I had a dream last night in which I came home 2 weeks early to surprise everyone and found that Megen was seeing another.

Maura had a beer at Fatso’s with a flag of blue with 12 gold stars in a circle and I could not figure it out as it was brewed in France and was written in French. It had a 1992 on it twice.

Back at the flat, I learned thru the telly that 1992 and the flag are symbols of the EEC. 1992 being the target date for full flung single mono-political open market Europe. Propaganda beer, but an OK idea. They are moving too fast towards that goal and many people are not for it, as it is kindda a totalitarianistic goal with total rule down to what to feed the cows. Too much control.

“The Outsiders” on BBC1. Emilio Estevez plays Two-Bit Matthews (2 Bit Matts?). Beer guzzling loud rowdy.

Parade Season

each spring, as the parades
approached, many veterans
would need to update
their uniforms. a small percentage
are Vietnam Veterans
who discarded their awards
in disgust. an accumulation
of time altered their original
conscription, and now wanted to
participate.
and represent.

the veterans of World War II
did not have to confront
the decision their Vietnam brethren had to.
the Greatest Generation watched over decades,
as their uniforms were desecrated
by curious grandchildren.

“i need a belt buckle.”

“a regular web belt for work?”

“No, a Goddamn USMC buckle in all it’s glory!”

my father in law- who owned the Army Navy surplus store
i found myself working in
had bought 120 USMC Dress buckles
at a trade show years earlier.
there were still a few dozen
in our attic stockroom.

“hold on one minute, i’ll be right back.”

i immediately find a
boxed USMC belt buckle,
and head back down the
rickety stairs from the attic,
to the retail floor.

“how much do i owe you, kid?”

“on the house. it’s the least we can do.”

“awww, c’mon kid, i can pay you!”

“hey- didn’t anyone give you something for free today?”

he raised his head to look directly into my eyes.
i thought i could hear his train of thought.

“a free buckle? a free buckle?”

holding the small
cardboard box
he spoke eloquently

“You are making an old Marine proud.”

he then exits the store.

the sound is congruent
everyone in earshot
was aware of what we heard.

i race to the deck outside the store
as customers are dialing 911
on their cell phones.
when i reach his fallen figure, i ask “are you ok?”

he replied~
“yes, i am.”

a moment later, a police officer arrived as
the first responder.
he walked across the deck
that provides access to the store.

“have you been drinking today?
“no, no, no, sir…..”

“Stand Up….”

the officer plants his hands under
the arms of the Marine Veteran
and gradually brings him
to his feet.

“have you been drinking today?” the officer repeats his question, with
an edge of malice.
i was shocked at the lack of a level of subtlety from the officer.
perhaps they dealt with this “emergency” everyday.

and yet, i decided to speak out:

“hey, take it easy on him….”

the officer held the Marine in the same position and then
slowly craned his neck to look directly at me.

“i’ll let you know when i want you to talk.”

i thought to myself
i would oblige,
and remain silent.

a gathering of EMT’s, firefighters, and police
have gathered at the scene.
they all seem to look at me
with a coordinated
disdain.

“you couldn’t differentiate a heart attack
from a drunk old man?”

IRNP ? ?8x

Isle Royale Music-Only Edit

Here is a music-only edit of the Isle Royale footage – 8x speed, no voiceover

Posted by Victory Garden on Monday, August 6, 2018

?OC, babe

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