Sunday, September 27, 2015

"Invoking posterity is like giving speeches to worms." -Ferdinand Celine, one of the most miserable humans to ever walk the earth, and my hero.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Wednesday, September 16, 2015


"Poor Texas, carved into like all the rest." -Sam Shepard, San Marcos, Texas. 3/1979


Here's a story which shines a light on the disgust I have with rogue capitalism which, in my opinion, is the seed of most of the depravity in this country: This took place in Durango, Colorado. Walmart wanted in but the town wasn't having it. They tried I think 4 times and got shut down. So one of the Waltons moved in. I forget which one. He bought the largest portion of private land in the area. He got into local politics, got to know the people, gave to all their charities, got himself on the city council and championed their causes. Then, of course, he applied again. And, of course, this time, they allowed the new Walmart. He immediately sold all of his land he owned and moved. Here's the worst part: the land he bought had some sort of stipulation attached where it was pre-set to be bought by outside investors at an agreed upon price with the condition that the Walmart would come to fruition. Another sick thing I recently learned from this old man who lives out there from time to time, who just bought one of my paintings is this: Walmart will build two Walmarts in a particular area, in two different towns, squeezing out all competition, then they will close one Walmart to cut costs, knowing that the people of the one town will drive to the other Walmart. The cherry on the top is the gas station that they will put in only at the new Walmart. Haha. And I'm sure Donald Trump would see nothing wrong with this sort of behavior. My point of all of this is that our entire way of life, outside of a few pockets of intelligent municipalities, is dictated only by big money making more and more money. Drive across America you will see nothing but replica after replica. The same repeating of everything owned by an ever thickening reduction sauce of corporate greed. Each and every one of the restaurants in most of America is replenished by the same silver Sysco truck. Most of those restaurants are owned by the same company and are staged within the same carefully considered proximity from one another. It's hilarious to me how the right is so fearful of "evil" socialism which is so against their American dream that they will blindly support an ever more unfettered hybrid of cancerous capitalism which enslaves them to an extent that at this rate will one day look from the outside like fucking communism. It's all done in defense of a freedom that they're unwittingly tossing right into the diseased mouth of that beast. We are not an intelligent society. Trump is not intelligent. Most Republicans are not intelligent. Power does not equal intelligence. As a matter of fact, it's the more simple, uncomplicated, unimaginative mind in this blighted environment which mixed with access to money tends to get things "done". Progress is seldom progressive and I think we are all waking up from the idiotic stupor called "The American Dream".

Friday, September 11, 2015


"I love your work! So who's your favorite artist?" "Fuck, I don't know… Jeffrey Dahmer?"

Friday, August 21, 2015


Fuck it all. I'm moving the family back to Oklahoma. I found a place on Zillow out in the middle of nowhere with a pool. It's a trailer but it's got a fuckin' pool! And a detached little shed type structure I could use for a studio. It's 20 miles from the nearest town which has a Dairy Queen, an Allsup's, and a tiny United Supermarket. I looked it all up on Google Earth. I don't need any of it anymore. I've eaten enough sushi, I've drunk enough good wine and beer. I've had plenty of interesting conversations. The hell with it all. Music, plays, museums, parties, art openings, I don't need any of that shit anymore. Just give me a Bud and that $5 Buck Lunch. Can I get the Crispy Chicken Sandwich with that? No matter where I go, no matter what I do, it's all just nonsense anymore. You can't escape that sickly brain up there, floating around in your skull. I've been all over this crumbling world. I've seen all sorts of shit. I've hung out with Michael Jackson, I almost got murdered once on the side of a road in Venezuela. And then there's the time I wandered into a room at a party in some mansion in Miami Beach and found myself among characters not even David Lynch could cast. They were standing in a circle with cocktails and wine in their hands, looking down at two enormous, muscle-bound, beautiful black men who were fucking each other, mercilessly. You see, I used to think experiences like this were beneficial. I thought they added layers to my story, to my scope of understanding. But now it all just gets in the way. There's just been too much. I had a meeting last night with a successful writer/producer/filmmaker. The meeting went well. It was just a preliminary, feeling each other out sort of thing. But as usual, most of my attention was focused on the pile of dead bugs at the bottom of the light fixture above us. It's one of the few things in life I've always found comforting. No matter where you go, there's always gonna be piles of dead bugs in light fixtures, upon window sills and panes. I would be in casting rooms or on sets, desperately not wanting to be there. But without fail, I could always look up towards the light and see that beautiful, dark mass of collected death, perhaps even some futile fluttering. It was something, something meaningful in my senseless world. GO BERNIE!