Blog Posts

NFT Art crash already?

Berkeley Telegraph: Hippie & Redneck Conversion

All those drugs ran over whatever great ideas they had.

And yet what's running over the ideas of the rest of America?

It's one thing to blame lunatic fringe theory on acid and lures - another when it's just listening to talk radio.

Where have all the flowers gone?

https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2015/07/the-death-of-t...

Truman's Campaign of Truth

Beginnings of Voice of America and challenging disinfo

(is this culture? or just old politics? certainly marked a "sea change" in radio)

https://www.coldwarradiomuseum.com/campaign-of-truth-at-voice-of-america...

A Career in Writing

As we all debate Substack and what not, let's look at the glamour and appeal of a career in writing (yes, a bit dated - perhaps)

Welcome back Kotto (aka catching cabs in NY)

Nice elegy by Dennis Hartley for Yaphet Kotto - one of those faces you knew only too well even if you didn't know his name, along with this gem on how not to catch a cab in New York, courtesy Michael Moore.

Thanks for all the films, i feel indebted.

https://digbysblog.net/2021/03/r-i-p-yaphet-kotto/

Murder on the Hippie Highway

The story of a mass murderer with a huge amount of magnetism and extreme ability to make things go his way - whether a Jeffrey Epstein, a Donald Trump, or a more obscure minor tyrant, it's a disturbing reminder of how easy it is for some to turn on the charm and extortion, contrary to our lawful rational universe expectations.

https://edition.cnn.com/2021/03/13/asia/serpent-bikini-killer-sobhraj-in...

Rosie Perez tale

Somehow reflects on so many things we discuss around here, seemed worth the read.

https://www.nickiswift.com/296045/the-tragic-real-life-story-of-rosie-pe...

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Personal Information

Superpowers
Defies gravity Can spit really far Almost touch my toes Can cut a fly's legs off with a beer cap from 20 paces Know how to say useless stuff and prattle on in a dozen languages Don't know when to shut up
Favorite Quotes
To be for or against the Plague, it's much the same thing. Fiddledee, how a body shure do get around - just 2 weeks ago I was in Mississippi and now I'm all the way to Tennessee... Eat or Be Eaten Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Biography
Born in swaddling clothes (designer, of course) at the confluence of big waters, my first recorded words were "Dad, can I have the keys to the car?" Raised a Southern Pedestrian, my musical talents were recognized at an early age, leading to my being exiled to the shed out back with a stack of books that became my eddykayshun - advanced readin', writin' & ritmytick, creating a major quandary of "what will I do, oh what will I do?" (Gunslinger) As an old black man advised in song, "You Gotta Move", so move I did, traveling the byways sideways even a lot of driveways, picking up sticks and psychological tics, even movin' to Beverlee through a quaint misunderstanding of the seriousness of TV series, until finally I blew up so big the carry nation incarnation tarnation couldn't hold me no more, so I fixed my sights on yonder sitar, and like Queequeg and Paul Bowles and one of those abducted kids by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I ventured forth to the larger world, pickin' and grinnin', doin' me some reckonin' and naughts from naughts, occasionally rightin', building me some buildings and wiring and just trying to understand the babble comin' out of people's mouths and heads, I finally ended up in what Rummy quaintly calls "New Europe", which ain't so new from what I sees, but that pit in my stomach from lack-of-moving-sickness finally disappeared, and instead I sit behind a whopping big desk stacked with missives from all the chiefs with big whampum around the world telling me "what's going on". Which seems like a load of boolshit to me, but I guess that's what keeps me busy and entertained now, separatin' the weeds from the chapstick. So my name is Perry Keys, or Peracles to you, and since my mammy always said, "say please and thank you", I added the please, but I'm holdin' back on that thankee until I feel you've earned it. But do welcome, and I hope we's a gonna have a real good time. It all starts with, "I wuz born a poor young white chile livin' in the South..." and we cycle through again, like Nietzsche and his infernal regurgence. So enjoy, and let's spin a spell...

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