Monthly Archives: April 2019

I never thought I would quote the white girls in Uggs, but guess what, dear reader:  I can’t even.  Not tonight.  Good lord. I just need to go the hell to bed.  I’m hoping that tomorrow I can even.  We’ll see.

N.P.: “Transdermal Celebration” – Ween

Today was another pain in the ass, dear reader.  I have to do some additional work on a project that I did not allocate time to do additional work on.  So I must be brief this evening.

I’m craving an adventure, dear reader.  Which as you may or may not know can mean only one thing: Tijuana.  I’ve been going down there with sometimes alarming frequency for the last 20 years, and it gets more fun every time.  It’s not supposed to be fun, it’s supposed to be scary as hell.  But I have this weird disorder that sort of misprocesses fear as intrigue?  I know, that sounds weird as hell, and it is.  But yeah, if something that can kill me is coming toward me, I get very interested.  Almost curious.  But yeah…that’s why I go.  A psychologist asked me after I returned from the most recent trip, “Why Tijuana?  Why vacation there instead of…anywhere else?  What goes on there?”  Welp, doc, last month it was named the most dangerous city in the fucking world  That is based on the fact that TJ had 2649 murders last year, which is the most per capita of anywhere in the world.  Tijuana was 5th on the list in 2018, but there were 600 more murders in the past 12 months, so bam!  #1!

Seriously, that’s the reason.  I walk around in the States in sort of disinterested auto-pilot mode.  Threats are visible for miles and easily avoided if one so chooses.  But something very…powerful…happens when you walk across that border.  The moment you walk through the clanging one-way gates, everything changes.  If you are like me and walk around the States pretty constantly aware of your constitutional rights, you can actually feel those rights disappear, leaving you totally unprotected.  Stepping through those turnstiles increases your chances of being murdered a full 70%, the government is completely corrupt, and most of the local police are in the employ of the cartels.

God yes…this needs to happen.  I need a vacation, and I could use with some more research for the Tijuana section of the book.  I think I’ll go in August.  It’s blisteringly hot down there in August, but that’s bullfighting season.

Shit…I was supposed to be brief.  Sorry, dear reader…I got carried away.

N.P.: “Rusty Cage” – Johnny Cash

I’ve never been a fan of Gavin Newsom, not even he first showed up on my radar in the San Francisco days.  I was a big fan of his ex-wife before he showed up, back when she was an assistant D.A.  For a couple of years there most of the crimes I committed were done with at least the partial hope of ending up being prosecuted viciously and sexily by Miss Guilfoyle, but not matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to get caught.  But that’s another story for another day.

In the brief time that Newsom has been Governor of the Crap State of California, he has managed to make all that was already bad somehow significantly worse, and even the good things that he has touched have immediately turned to shit.  I am loath to waste a Sunday afternoon enumerating the innumerable fuckups this putz has unleashed upon his hapless electorate, so I’ll just pick two to mention here, and then I have drinking to do.

First Fuck Up: Placing an executive moratorium on California’s death penalty, thus granting a reprieve for the 737 assholes sitting on death row right now.  Just for the record, had I been Governor, I would have issued an executive order mandating the execution of everyone on death row within 90 days.  That would work out to 8-9 or a day, which would certainly keep certain people very busy for 3 months, but it could be done.  After that, anyone receiving a death sentence would be given an automatic expedited appeal (the appellate court would have no more than 30 days to adjudicate the appeal), and, if the death sentence stands, the execution would be carried out before sun rises the day after the appellate court decision is issued.  The world would be a very different place if I was in charge.

Anyway, I could rail against the stupidity of Newsom’s decision here, but in instances when someone else says something better than I can, I defer to their words.  With that in mind, here is Sheriff Bell of nearby Placer County:

The Sheriff mentioned Luis Bracamontes, whom I would enthusiastically execute myself, but also getting a free ride here due to the Governor’s idiocy are Lonnie Franklin (The Grim Sleeper – 25 murders), Rodney Alcala (The Dating Game Killer – 100+ murders), Cary Stayner, Scott Peterson, Richard Allen Davis, and Charles Ng.

Totally alienating (and pissing off) the entirety of law enforcement in your state as well as the Departments of Corrections and Justice might be enough for some governors, but this asshole is just getting started.

Second Fuck Up:  This week, Governor Jackass signed a bill mandating California’s residents now be taxed on internet purchases.  It has long been the belief (like since 2000, back when I was trying to get prosecuted by Kimberly) of both me and my associates that whomsoever began taxing internet purchases in California would likely be the Antichrist.   Mr. Newsom is not nearly diabolical or even interesting enough to be the Antichrist.  He’s just a putz.  Now he has alienated not only several Silicon Valley giants but also pretty much all of us who purchase things online.

First he fucked up KG, and I had to abandon my hopes there.  Then he fucked up San Francisco , and I had to abandon my hopes there.  Now he is fucking up California, and I will undoubtedly have to abandon my hopes here (which is not that big of a deal…not too many hopes for California anyway).  And I know this weenie has presidential aspirations.

We are not amused.

N.P.: “Narayan” – The Prodigy

I didn’t do a goddamn thing today, dear reader.  It was great.

The news from the book world isn’t usually considered “exciting,” but I think this qualifies: a lost sequel to Anthony Burgess’ novel, “A Clockwork Orange” has been discovered in the author’s archives.  Entitled “The Clockwork Condition,” weighs in at 200 pages, the manuscript “is a collection of Burgess’ thoughts on the human condition and explores the moral panic that followed the release of Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of his famous work.” (Guardian)

The Burgess Foundation has not discussed publishing ideas or other potential dispositions for the manuscript.  Anthony Burgess did publish an autobiographical novel in 1974 called “The Clockwork Testament” which dealt with similar ideas as are allegedly in “Condition,” but unless “Condition” is too similar to “Testament,” I think it should be published.  The 60th anniversary of the original publication of “A Clockwork Orange,” is just a couple years away.  Perhaps a “complete collection” anniversary release is called for:  “Orange” in its entirety, along with “Testament” and “Condition.”

N.P.: “Army of Me” – The Great Discord

Jayson Gallaway

April 27, 2019

Did a bit of drinking with a friend in from England this evening.  ‘Twas fun, though going to public places where people are is a rather taxing endeavor these days.  I laid low, quiet in the shadows.  But even just watching people…ugh.  So disappointing these days.  At least I can count on you, dear reader.

God…I don’t even know what day it is.  Hypnos and Morpheus…let’s do this.

N.P.: “Setting Sun” – Jerry Cantrell

Made some good progress on the book today.  I may have had a breakthrough – okay, I think “breakthrough” is a bit strong here – but some significant developments, particularly on exactly how to start the damn thing (it’s not that I can’t think of how, I have thought of maybe a dozen ways to start it, and each have merit…but only one is Right).  Going to try to get a couple more hours in on it before I have to collapse.

I am feeling like I’m going to collapse.  I haven’t been sleeping or eating very well, and it’s starting to catch up.  And then there’s this goddamn heat.

Alright, then.

N.P.: “We Belong Dead” – Slash

Today was utterly fucking exhausting.  It’s the special kind of exhaustion that comes from planning for a year or so to do something, then suddenly finding out it isn’t possible, then 20 minutes later finding out it is, then 20 minutes later finding out it isn’t possible for a different reason, and then 20 minutes after that finding out that there is an entirely different option that you were previously unaware of that makes the thing you’d been planning to do for a year rather pointless.  I think at the end of it all, my situation had actually improved, but what a roller coaster ride getting there.

Gonna go collapse.

N.P.: “Ship on Fire” – Zeal & Ardor

It’s World Book Day.  See, dear reader, now this makes sense…books need a day.  Books need all the help they can get.

I confess I’ve fallen into the very convenient habit of reading most books electronically during the last several years.  There are basically two reasons for this.  The first is that I am able to check out and download library books at 3 in the morning.  The second is that if I find myself in some situation where I have to wait someplace with nothing to do, I have a whole library on my phone to choose from.

But I recently got an actual physical book from the shelf and sat in a chair and read it for a few hours and it really is a completely different, far more rewarding experience.  I need to do more of that.

Anyway, go read a book, and I’ll keep writing this one.

N.P.: “Keep Talking” – Pink Floyd

Oh goddammit, dear reader…earth day?  Gadzooks.  What sort of Disneyesque jackassery is this?

The earth doesn’t need a day.  When the hippies start anthropomorphizing the whole planet…attributing awareness and feelings to it.  The earth is not angry.  Nor is it happy.  Not much frustrates me more than the same people that have been running around celebrating earth day suddenly find themselves sitting in a pile of rubble that used to be their home before the earthquake or tornado or hurricane or wildfire or whatever, on the news howling, “Why me?”  Ain’t no why, sister.  Shit just happens.  It’s nothing personal.   Don’t try to make it so.

Disney gets most of the blame for most of this horseshit.  Perpetuating dangerous myths where old crippled baboons hang out with the friendly lion, and every single little girl everywhere ever is a princess and nature is a gentle and benevolent presence that gets even nicer the more you kiss its ass.  Nope.  You wanna go for a real nature walk?  Do it across the Donner Pass in January.  Take a stroll through a Floridian swamp in late August.  I’ve heard that the Australian outback is a great place to reconnect with nature all year round.  Yes, kittens and kale and koalas are all natural.  But so are cancer, syphilis, and death.  Nature is neither for you nor against you.  It isn’t trying to kill you, but it’s also not doing a damn thing to keep you alive.  [Also, I am firmly of the believe that it is a huge mistake to differentiate humans from “nature” or other animals.  As smart as we are, we are still animals, we are still natural, and just as there is nothing “unnatural” about a pride of lions ganging up on a zebra to kill it by ripping it apart, there is nothing “unnatural” about humans splitting the atom.  But this is a discussion for another day.  I’m just taking this perspective because you typical hippie is no where near ready to handle this sort of thing.]

It’s really a good thing that the earth doesn’t have feelings, because if it did, it would probably be pissed off by the humans’ hypocrisy and duplicity.   For the last 50 years (far longer, really, but I’m trying to make us look less worse here…the truth is we’ve been looking to “better deal” this bitch since we figured out how to make fire), we have done nothing except talk about “what else is out there,” and search for planets  with water that might sustain us.  Hell, the second we figured out how to do it, we fucked off to the moon.  The moon!  it’s not even a planet.  It’s an itty bitty shitty little rock that circles the earth like some kind of stalker on ecstasy, but the minute we could leave, we did.  And we’ll leave again, first chance we get.  When we couldn’t find any other planets to “date,” we built a space station.  That’ s how much we want to get out of this dysfunctional relationship with the earth.  But then every year, here we are: “Oh earth, we love you so much.”  Meanwhile we’re so busy checking out other planets that we built the Hubble Telescope: we will never ever ever be able to get to the planets we can see with that thing.  But we simply must know what else is out there.  Because there has got to be something better that this dump.

Most humans love the earth the same way the Germans loved Wotan long ago: they had no other choice.  It was how they were raised and all they knew.  Earth is all we know.  But it really kind of blows.  It’s too hot, for one thing.  I have been uncomfortably hot virtually every day since I got here.  But really, there are some really amazing planets out there…far more hospitable than this joint.

I know a way to get the hippies to stop celebrating earth day: a group of earth supremacists should co-opt it…appropriate it into the central holiday of their calendar and then get militant:  “Earth First!  All the other planets suck!  Make Mars our bitch!”

Oooo…I know: “Make Earth Great Again!”  Perfect.  I’m in.  I’ll call Jussie Smollett and get him to stage a terrestrial hate crime, where two Nigerians pose as earth supremacists, jump him and yell “This is Earth!” and call him a martian and tell him to go back to his red planet.  I wonder if he’s available.

Happy earth day, ya filthy hippies.  #MakeEarthGreatAgain #MakeMarsOurBitch  #FUranus

N.P.: “Western Ground (Instrumental) – 2019 Remaster” – Samael

I did not want to get out of bed today.  At all.  But then it was Easter, and if Jesus can rise from the dead 3 days after being crucified, then the least I can do is get out of bed 9 hours after doing battle with the tequila gods.

You know who I wish could rise from the dead is Prince.  Three years ago today.  I guess cremating someone pretty much nixes the possibility of them rising from the dead, however.  So much for that.

I got two really solid ideas for the slasher novel I’m not supposed to be writing, so I wrote down some brief notes to try to flesh out later this week.  I have 44 days to finish the book I’m supposed to be writing, but I have about 180 days worth of work left to do.  So either I’m going to miss the deadline, or I’ll finish the thing and probably drop dead from exhaustion.  I need to pick a path.

N.P.: “DOA” – Foo Fighters