Go To Hell

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Two years ago, I baked a mouse by accident after putting a pizza in the over. Symbolism.

Some dates stick with you. This is one of them. September two-seven. Nine-two-seven-one-four.

It has been three years since my grandfather passed away just after midnight on the 27th. I will never forget that date as long as I live.

All the stuff that has transpired in my life since his passing has been not unlike the myth of the Phoenix. That sounds pretentious but you had to be there. You had to see everything in my life fall into disrepair. You had to see all hell break loose. Trust me, I was there.

I stand here, three years on, a better and stronger man. I am like the phoenix that rises from its’ own ashes. A rebirth after plunging into self-immolation. And as I stand here, I recognize that it is as slow a rise up as it was a descent.

This is self-love. This is self-celebration. It is well-deserved.

And yet this is not a permanent state. Hard times will return. Hell, hard times are happening now, if you consider the state of the country and the world. But inside I am fortified. Because I’ve cried through the fire that engulfed me. I feel like a piece of steel, brought to my biggest melting point yet. Hard times will return and heartbreak will occur, but I will persevere.

You will persevere as well. That is my promise to you. Pain and suffering is a giant part of our existence, and yet we persevere. However we get through it, whether we cling to family, or friends, or God, how one may imagine God to be, or any combination thereof. Or whatever gets you through that doesn’t make things worse. Some coping mechanisms can be harmful, you know.

The old saying is “when you’re going through hell, keep going.” I echo that sentiment because otherwise you’re stuck in hell. Besides, you may fly out one day. Not because you’re an angel but because you’re a phoenix.

I miss my grandfather but I think if he could see me now, he would be proud of me. That makes it a little bit easier. I can almost hear him say it. “Proud of you.”

Almost.

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B.O.M.B.S.

“I’m free. I’ve got my hands back on my weapons. I am definitely going to crush the opposition.” – Steve Bannon, Breitbart editor-in-creep.

It’s good to actually have a place to write and publish my thoughts and ideas, no matter how in(s)ane or ridiculous they get. Nearly three months went by where I couldn’t do that. Aggravation.

I’ve been using Twitter steadily for the last eight years and I’ve posted at least 24,000 tweets. Think about that. 24,000 times I’ve taken a thought, be it eloquent or incoherent, and just thrown it into the void. Millions of users have continuously fed Twitter to the point that it has become like that kid that mutates into a giant, gross mass in Akira. I’ve fed 24,000 or so thoughts into the gaping maw of an uncontrollable death machine.

This wasn’t a problem before you-know-who got elected in 2016. Or actually it was, because there were always Nazis telling Jewish tweeters unimaginable things. Sexists targeting women and threatening them with rape. Racists, racists, racists. Bots of both the porn and Russian political variety. It’s been a slow build to this point but some people saw it coming well before I did. All enabled by Twitter executives who have done fuck-all to fix any of the many problems with its’ platform.

The only thing I can think of is to walk away. One, for my personal mental health and two, because I don’t want to keep contributing to the problem by staying there.

This is my home. This is my safe place. This is my platform. I don’t need Twitter. It needs me, as it needs all of its users to sustain any hint of profitability. If we all go away, it becomes the new Myspace fast.

No, I haven’t deleted my account.

Continuing A Dumb Gag

Suggested listening: anything by Mike Farmer’s LCD Soundsystem

Yes, I said “Mike Farmer’s LCD Soundsystem”. I announced on Facebook last month that I bought the rights to the band and now own LCD Soundsystem.

Is it true? No. Why would it be? But it amuses me. So I’m going to continue to further the gag by announcing the special edition of “American Dream”, to be released later this fall.

Audiophiles will thrill to my approved remaster of the “American Dream” tracks, which is now COMPLETELY BRICKWALLED. “American Dream” is now a victim of the Loudness War. Or a victor. Depends on your viewpoint. I say “victor”.

I even designed an ad.

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Under Attack

Suggested listening:  “Under Attack” by Abba

To live in the United States today is to feel under attack. This is especially true for the two-thirds of Americans who don’t consider themselves in the Donald Trump voter/fan base.

I am under attack because I am disabled. I am mentally ill and morbidly obese. I deal with these issues every day on my own. I don’t need the threat of my health care being taken away every few months to make my life more stressful. My whole life is a pre-existing condition.

My gay, lesbian, and trans friends are under attack and my friends of color are under attack. Even if you’re not singled out for your sexuality or your health or your race or religion or legal status, even if you don’t feel like a target of this administration, you still feel bombarded by the endless lashing out of an elderly man-baby who can’t help but make EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM.

You just want him to pipe down for a few days and zone out in front of the TV with the cellphone out of reach and out of battery energy so he can’t tweet and drive people up the wall. Is it too much to ask for that the guy who is ostensibly the President not just fuck with everybody all the time just for a cheap kick.

This is an open sore of a human being nobody will drown him in peroxide or topical cream.

What more can I say? Some of those people felt under attack for eight years and now they want payback times ten. They didn’t think it through beyond that but they have it now. I don’t try to reach out because they made their choice and their choice was to tell me and my friends to fuck off.

I’m not going to forgive someone who isn’t sorry.

I Want To Be An Erotic Photographer

Is this an unreasonable request? It’s a ambition I have now. I don’t want to be a rock star anymore. I just want to take pictures of naked women. Is that okay? I never want to go onstage ever again to perform. I just want to be an erotic photographer.

I guess I’m putting it out there that I’m an erotic photographer. If you will it, it is no dream. I saw that in a movie once. So I am a photographer now. Because I will it. It will not be a dream any longer. It is my reality.

I am currently seeking models. And a camera. If you are a model and can furnish a camera, then you are in what some might call the double-bonus.

You do not need to give me the camera. You can keep the camera after we finish shooting. You may also keep the film or the memory card. I am new to the world of erotic photography. How am I going to get any good at this if I don’t get any practice?

Have you ever heard of Coop? The guy who draws demon girls? That guy also takes photos of naked women and they look wonderful. The women and the pictures, I mean. That is a man who lives a good life. All different shapes and sizes of women, with different looks all presented in their very best light. The world needs more of that. Women need more of that. How many flat, one-dimensional bathroom selfies have you seen? How many have you TAKEN? Aren’t they embarrassing?

Some of the most beautiful and famous people in the world have had their selfies stolen and leaked by hackers. Inevitably, these photos are disappointing. If they look less than perfect, how are YOU gonna fare? The D.I.Y. approach only works for so many things.

You need help when it comes to showing off your beauty, sensuality and total fuckability. That is where Mike’s Classy Erotic Photography, Uninc. comes in, allowing you to pose hands-free in a relaxed atmosphere.

If you will it, it is no dream. It is your dream to be immortalized in the way you wish. It is my dream to help you.

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Something for the leg fetishists out there. My photos of you will be like this only sexier.

Please Kill Me, I’m American

Hello, dear reader and friend. It has been months and months since I have written to you (three months, tops). Much has happened since I have last written to you. There will be plenty of time at the new Kentucky Prophet website for me to detail these things. But I have pressing matters at hand that I want, nay need to address.

This is an open letter to the Republican Congress and the Republican President. Others may read this, it being an open letter.

Just go ahead and kill me. Go ahead, kill us all and get it over with. Senators McConnell and Paul and Cruz and all the others, go ahead and just finish us off. House Speaker Ryan, you’ve been begging for this opportunity. Now’s your chance. Do it, buddy! And you, Pres. Trump. Go ahead, drop a nuke on us before the North Koreans do it. Might as well, man. It would be pointless for Kim-Jong Un to bomb a country that’s already destroyed.

Seriously, every week millions of Americans have to call their elected officials and beg and plead to not take away health care. They’re at it again, with a proposal to strip at least 35 million people of their health insurance and they want to get this done by the end of September.

Combine that with the insistence upon ignoring the effects of climate change, which we are seeing in the Southeast, via these brutal hurricanes, and the insistence that Black Lives and LGBTQ lives and Mexican lives and Muslim lives don’t matter, and add to that Trump’s United Nations speech where he threatened nuclear annihilation upon North Korea (and by default, its’ neighboring countries) and the message is quite clear: The Republicans want to kill a lot of people.

Don’t believe me? Did you know that Congress overwhelmingly approved a $600 billion investment in the military? Not infrastructure, not health care, not new pipes in Flint, not even a dumb border wall like Trump would want, but the military. Again. Groovy.

So just do it already. What’s the difference between us here in the U.S. and the countries we drone-bomb? Just add us to the list. It’s getting tedious having to beg for your life and your freedom every few weeks. As if 2018 or 2020 is the light at the end of the tunnel. Because the Democrats certainly won’t take advantage of all these things that have taken place over the last nine months once they come into power. They would never do such a thing.

Please.

If dropping a nuke on your own constituents is too bold, why not bring back the old guillotine? Yeah, it’s French but it has some style. I’m begging you to put me in it, drop the blade, cut my head off and let the Koch Brothers use my skull as a chalice. I will cry tears of joy as I’m lead to slaughter. Stop pussyfooting around already.

Not everybody is going to agree with me on this, and that’s fair. I just don’t want to #resist anymore. I don’t want to be woke. Fortune favors the bold, gentleman. So be bold and hop to it. Show me what you got.

Pussies.