I became my Dad’s Heroes.

I am tired.

And, I am tired.

Though, with Teeth.

It was worth it. Yes. Oh yeah. – Alas, there is a New York City. Still extant. And still a smart jew heckling. Thank God. Thank God for him.

There was a homeless guy on…

…On ah, on 3rd, off Third Ave there.

“Fuck the VCR!”

Then Pelted a VCR tape to the ground. His backpack, full of em. Croning over like Igore. 

The tape, it’s rafting entrails, flailing near a cop car. 

Wish I remembered more.

Naw, he didn’t care. Held a machine gun.


Becoming Bowie and marrying New York City.

Was like finding Katherine.

And at the same time, a Ten Year sacrifice like I never thought could happen. Of Lili, of me, of my Dad and my brother. All sacrificed on the altar of eternal hubris. But it is that Hubris that both damns and saves our souls. Because in America, it’s either one path or the other.

I couldn’t put up with the boredom.

In America, we hear the Drum of the gangs of new york. That mustached robber barron with an axe. Except we become the axe, not the axed.

We are taught that humans are commodities while explicitly endorsing its opposite. “You are what you make yourself.” Becomes.

“Just do it.”


“There’s a helpless starving child who needs you.”

The thin line between Entertainment and War.

Is what we got.

And call, Democracy.



SportsBalls is everywhere.

I turn.


There are balls being thrown. And arms thrown out in embrace.

“We won!”          ______________They say.

Their balls aren’t very heavy and Fenway Stadium stands, anachronism.

To hit a hard round object across a field and have motherfuckers run after it.

People cheer.

That’s what Boston likes.

New York kicks its ass and drowns sports in the multitudes.

The way eyes from a drowning son will scream at his mother, in wince before that final gasp.

Let me give Sports, its final gasp.


From the Looking Glass.

Treason doth never prosper… For if it prospers, none dare call it Treason.

John Harington

Watching Good Morning America reminds one of how truly fascist our system is.

“This is what 1.5 BILLION DOLLARS looks like!”

A commenter tells us spiraling on a literal crane far above three monolithic stacks of ‘Benjamins’ in Times Square: the epicenter of Capitalism.

Celebrities, football, product placement, monogamy and money-worship are the top themes. Animal Agriculture, being meat and dairy are pushed to the point of a total-environment.

Meanwhile, celebrities are primarily, neurotic, dysfunctional people; football stars are heroes of untold riches, while teachers are paid dirt and the cheering crowds linger as future zombies from a in-extant healthcare system.

Monogamy is touted as the omni-present standard because children are the way the system keeps people pacified and ever occupied consumers, while 60%+ cheat on their spouses and always have.

Meat and dairy while the obesity rate is nearing HALF the population.

The environment is on the verge of total collapse and the human race, according to most scientists on Climate Change could very possibly face extinction within this century.


The more desperate things seem, the more fanatical and exuberant the propaganda. Our clothes drip with the blood of slaves. But we call them: sweat shops workers. 

“Oh, but they’re paid!” A Capitalist would cry.

Paid enough to subsist on bread while Bolivian children are charged for their own drinking water.

Far less than a criminal would get.

“Great deals for your mind, your body, and your soul.”


“Countdown to the Oscars.”

Drone strikes on civilian populations.

“Get fit and eat a burger with a wheat bun!”

Meat is killing with cancer with rates that dwarf cigarettes and asbestos combined

“Loose weight with Weight Watchers,” says Oprah.

And she’s still fat.

The big lotto winners crown the USA Today porn star commentators.

And this is the best system on Earth.

The Western European, U.S. and Canadian establishment.

But the reality: the people are to blame.

Not their leaders, not the system itself: but the fact, as Plato knew—that the masses themselves cannot rule their own destinies, or the world will plummet into chaos. And it has.

It is The People that fight for their rights and improve Democracy. It is also The People that tear it down for a donut and a cheaper coffee bean.


“It is the great fortune of those in power that people do not think.”

-Adolf Hitler

Most people are not meant to use their brains.

Because they are Dancing With The Stars to the point of a knife in the back to make sure their cars run and children are fed. They’d sell out a friend to make themselves look better, then battle the guilt while sipping a latte.

Think about the real perpetrator of the aforementioned reality: The People. 


Design Websites For Walls.

epicenterThe average connection speed Nationwide is around 9Mbps. 

The average site download is around 1Megabite. 

I remember designing sites that were an 800K download. And it was crushing people’s attention span in the 2 seconds it took for them to check their phone and leave the site.

Now? I figured out the secret of my success: I’ve been testing sites on a Wifi connection at 1.02Mbs or around thereabouts while the average is 9 TIMES FASTER. 

All my sites should load quickly as a result, though I’ve been too liberal even still with my sites holding a hefty 1.4Megabite download. Though this speed will be in 3-6 months, the new standard.

Which is too much. But the majority of my sites have been around 900K or a little more. 

Sites in the next year will be beyond 4G and entering the real 4K!

Exponential growth Kurzweil talking about is coming. In 2017 we will see HDTV Websites as a mainstream standard. Anyone not designing for Responsive 4K, very large out-of-text-and-into-speech-transition emphasizing voice, with a very 3D bent—will be crushed. 

Design 3D, design mobile–

Design for walls.

Small Town Poets Need to be Peed On From a Great Height.

A girl I was out with last night told me that when I said I left my heart in New York, that this actually meant I had an old flame to connect with there.

Somehow her feelings of some kind of nebulous mild jealousy made her temporarily paralyzed into a literal minded headspace.

I had to explain to her that this meant I loved New York City itself and always will. She understood the analogy, that is; unless she is indeed, retarded, but was only left looking perplexed.

Then I found out she was from a town that had 25,000 inhabitants.

I remember city girls.

They were perfect.

They had a point of view.

And they were educated, and more importantly, self-educated.  They also tended to travel and interact with different cultures.

There was this girl I met in the village, named Pilar, from Madrid, she was crazy and peed on mirrors. She was also into real poetry and spoke in terms of what poetry meant in her own life. She was an ex-model. She fucked me all night every night while her husband slept in the next room, often snoozing away.

And deviant fetishes weren’t on the back of cereal boxes. In those days.

Small town people are about 99.9999% bad.

And they’re on the rise due to the decentralizing effects of the Internet. Meaning rigid political correctness, ignorance and vicarious book-smarts replacing experience.

Sites like OKCupid.com are filled with hardly anything but provincial scum.

Since small town people are so limited in their experiences, when they supplant themselves into any city, they don’t really have an actual philosophy. Hence, anything even slightly outside the norm for them is a threat. Often even if it agrees with their overall “point of view,” that doesn’t exist.

In my life I have encountered more than a handful of people, especially women since I’m ‘Poly’ and I’ve dated a lot—who are from towns that have less than 100,000 inhabitants and don’t question what a black person is since they’ve never really been friends with anybody but white people.

I find these are the least racist people I’ve ever known.

In words and in public.

And the most racist behind closed doors.

These days you are lucky if you meet anybody born and raised in a city. And it seems often even harder to find (also, perplexingly); someone like myself or my Fiancé, (we’re Poly or open) who was born for the city, yet from a small setting.

If you are a city person, that is, do not use a car, consider politics and philosophy to be real things, along with a real social consciousness—I am here to tell you never to know or even bother talking to someone from a town with fewer than 100,000 inhabitants and fewer than a handful of cultures.

I think the only city in the world is New York City aside from Europe.

And even New York is under the thumb of the car environment which I seek to see eradicated along with the oil monopolies and all the obsolete technologies, without which, the new, pedestrian city environment would come back.

Which it will. And trains. 19th century millennium.

But you know what’s really most absent on a date with a small town girl?

A macro perspective.

“So it’s really too bad that agro-business accounts for 90% of the environmental destruction.”

“Hey you know, there’s this great burger place right across the street.”

“What? Yeah, I don’t eat meat. No I was saying that it’s agro business that’s destroying the Earth.”

“Well, you don’t have to get a burger, there’s tons of creative vegetarian stuff on the menu.”



“USA Today displays nothing but products whereas it used to be news.”

Her: “Oh, I know it’s awful!”

Me: “Yeah, I mean, did you see how much makeup they sell right out of the box on there? And especially McDonalds.”

“You know I had this one friend who at at McDonald’s like that guy in the Super Size Me doc on Netflix?”

Small town people relate in terms of stories and anecdotes rather than principles, rare connections and causes.


“You love Blade Runner? Me too. It’s really a great story about what it is to be human and see it from an artificial point of view.”

“So did you think Deckard was a replicant?”

For every abstract or macro based comment I made, there was a  literal or concrete example in place of an actual point.

The girl last night told me she wrote poetry and had done open mic readings, or “used-to.”

But the whole night, not one sonnet or line from her, but rest assured I was made aware of every hipster hangout where no doubt, the tritest poetry was available every Thursday night, or whatever night works best for small minds.

Arthur Rimbaud remarked that Louis the 14th of France, would pee on poets of no talent, from a great height onto their faces.

 Support this practice. Our urine is the only defense from the mental geography of the weak minded.