pith…

(A MISPLACED FLASHBACK FROM WINTRY UGLINESS IN MILWAUKEE)

“I am guilty, Lord, but I am also a lover – and I am one of your best people, as you know; and yea tho I have walked in many strange shadows and acted crazy from time to time and even drooled on many High Priests, I have not been an embarrassment to you…So leave me alone, goddamnit, and send Mr. Screwjack back to me; and if the others have any questions or snide comments about it, tell them to eat shit and die.” – R.D.

Friends, you know this is the truth, just like Raoul Duke and his blood-lusting tomcat, an imagined beastly desire hides somewhere deep within all of us. Not that there is anything natural, at all, about sodomizing an innocent animal, no matter if it has razor-sharp claws and a vice of bone-crushing teeth, but eventually one must get repulsed enough by wallowing with the human race to fantasize, on drugs or not, about the true possibilities of all life. To straighten things out, this is not a decree of bestiality, the pitiful people who fuck with animals should be castrated and stoned by an angry mob right on Main St. of whatever town they live in. The point here, which may or may not apparently lie within this obscure metaphor, is that the limit of sedentary, mundane living infects the human soul and psyche like the plague, and for me personally begs to be shattered like a brand new plate glass window.

As I lube the gears of my mind with slimy fistfuls of crude realism, and pump wild and impure imagination through the thin red walls of my beaten heart faster than raw sewage overflows into Lake Michigan, I grapple with the cold realization of inner plight. Pushing the limit of twenty-three years in this city, long gone past stir crazy, my flight is overdue so now I’m bracing myself and finally ready to get the hell out of Dodge. Naturally, West is the only direction to head, face the wind and burn out across state-long cornfields until the land starts to roll and the trail of rock jutting upward grows into the Rockies. The thin air will do my mind and lungs some much needed good, the snow will thicken my skin and fuel pointed screeds like spitting kerosene on an altar of flickering Virgin candles.

I will be reborn on a moonlit mountaintop in a blizzard dancing naked, except for a grizzly bear tooth necklace hanging around my neck, with a megaphone in one hand and a bottle of bourbon splashing from the other. A two-hundred pound Husky, more wolf than dog with eyes that change color with the seasons will be my only companion, howling strange duets with me into the basting handheld speaker and lapping from the bottle. A catharsis of pure madness will echo over peaks and down canyons into sleepy ski villages where tourists will be ripped from a fat cat dreamland by the unGodly song of beast and man. Livestock will turn wild-eyed and tear through barbwire fences, storming the farmhouses and trampling their owners tucked away in warm beds. The deranged swan song will ring out to resound in deaf ears and make the increasingly illiterate youth peel themselves from television screens and pick up books with yellowed pages that leave paper cuts on their frail little hands. With any luck at all, my words will become shards of broken beer bottles on the painful path to the enlightenment of this darkening Reality.

John Dick
December 2007

Walgreen’s is my god. I will have no gods above thee.

Down the street from where I live is a Walgreen’s, a store that is part pharmacy, part convenience store, and entirely without shame for the contradictions within. Where else can one fill prescriptions for pain killers, anti-depressants, and erectile dysfunction while also acquiring two pounds of Slim Jims, a carton of cigarettes, and Mother’s Day cards? I have been down every aisle of the local store, often amazed by the unnecessary and often capricious use of candy products in a store that largely caters to people with type two diabetes. I shouldn’t be too critical, I too am a customer, a sugar addicted zombie parsing the four rows of things that barley qualify as food for my next fix of Jolly Ranchers. Walgreen’s caters to my laziness and carelessness. I no longer seek food that needs to be “cooked;” I can survive on sugar and fat alone.

In some southern states, Walgreen’s also sells liquor. Alas, not here. That added benefit would create an even greater sense of the contradiction that is Walgreen’s. I hope one day that I will be able to motor into Walgreen’s on my hover-round scooter for both pain killer and vodka, perhaps some Slim Jims as well. Nothing would please me more than to experience this truly American dream before I die from consuming all the things they sell at Walgreen’s.

After a recent visit I was overcome with the sense of impending doo. Not only did I buy a one pound bag of Lemonheads, but I was also consuming them with an energy drink. Has it really come to this? I live almost solely on sugar, caffeine, and mind-altering drugs prescribed by a friendly doctor. Walgreen’s has provided all of these things to me and, while I know this is not a sustainable lifestyle, I see no way out. Walgreen’s is my pusher. It won’t let me go. It keeps giving me a free hit with these incessant coupons for things I don’t need.

The only thing I can really fault Walgreen’s for is knowing their customer base too well. We are lazy, weak-willed people who love junk food and candy. They should sell hover-rounds. If you spend a thousand dollars at the store you should get 50% off on a hover-round. Maybe free insulin shots, or a colostomy bag.

Is it wrong to wish I lived in a different era? One where I didn’t feel shame and embarrassment over what we have become and are increasingly becoming. I feel no optimism for the future I was told to expect, It isn’t that I wish for something we never were, rather my desire is for something we should have been, and could easily have achieved. Unfortunately idealism is dead, that cold corpse was laid to rest long before I was born, but the ghost still haunts us, giving glimpses of what could have been. The remains of that noble spirit are dug up every year by the next generation of college freshman but are returned before there is a resurrection of hope. It is true that some people retain some of the essence of idealism, but the form is highly compromised. Those that retain hope and idealism are regarded as apostles to a dead and debunked religion. The reality of our ideals are perverse, Justice is for those who can pay for it, equality is for those born with wealth, happiness is for those who trample over others, and freedom is living in a cage. I know there are no absolutes, which is why I too am compromised. I believe I see the world as close to reality as I am able, ugly, vain, and cruel. I long for the time when I saw the future as hopeful, a time when our mistakes would not be repeated, and when we as Americans could truly say we are a positive influence in the world. That idealism is gone, and it won’t ever return, perhaps thats as it should be. Seeing the world as it is can lead to wisdom, but it rarely leads to hope.

We could have been the nation of hope, we could have been a true light for human dignity and freedom, but those things are now lies we use to justify our empire. Our friendly paternalism has changed into global abuse. Spreading democracy by the sword, peace through occupation, national advancement by foreign exploitation. We can tell ourselves that America is a force for good, that our actions create a better world with a positive future, but thats a lie. Our current path is conflict, exploitation, and increasing levels of hatred. People do not hate us because of our freedom, they hate us because of the things we do, the policies we support, the wars we fund. Is this what idealism sounds like? The desire for change, the accepting of principals based on human compassion and not self-interest? I wish that were so, the reality is that this path we are on is self-destructive, there will be no America we recognize if we continue to act without regard for the rest of the world. The pragmatic self-interested person should realize this path we are taking leads to a future where all the problems we now face are multiplied. It is not idealism that commands change, it is the acceptance of a harsh reality that does. Change for the better, but change principally because its in our best interest to look for a different way.