Walking on Thin Ice

dead frogs when i have to

advert detail - foto by smith excerpt from CRIMINAL by Smith & Lady: When I drank myself to death and ended up in intensive care, I got a call from Dick Head. I told him, “I can’t drink anymore or I’ll die.” He screamed, “Then why don’t you die! I’d rather die than not drink.” Dick Head’s highlight was when he read poetry at the Old Brooklyn Inn wearing nothing but an octopus wrapped around his waist. The octopus tentacles hung down, and so did Dick Head’s dick. Dick Head’s holding a large stuffed frog in his left arm, a butcher knife in his right hand, and is standing on a plastic drop cloth. He starts shouting: I only eat dead frogs / when I have to lifes a bitch not a bore / Im a slut not a whore live for lust / loves a drag / I only eat dead frogs when I have to Art is free / but paint cost money The galleries are full / of commies faggots & more I dont let it get me sore / Cus I only eat dead frogs When I have to Then he gut stabs the stuffed frog with the knife, and the cow entrails he’d sewn into it the previous night spill out on the floor One of the finest poetry moments I can recall. Even the college kids sat up. Last time I saw Dick Head’s dick was at the ArtCrimes 20 publication party. He had a stud in his penis head, I could see it flashing in the spot light as he read from the stage. I’ve seen him with leopard skin hair, I’ve seen him with half his hair shaved, and a safety pin through the scalp. I’ve seen him with bloody scalp. Nobody knows how he’s stayed alive this long. I know he’s alive because he still makes noises, but no more dead frogs. local stencil graffiti - foto by smith

Candy at the Lake

Xtians “LIKE US”

Krakow, Poland (photo by Smith)

Having grown up in a relatively free albeit sheltered society, my impulse was to think that fascism could never happen here.

But fascism is more common than not, and the US sponsors it in all these other countries. Why is it so hard to believe they’d dare to do it to our own country as well?

It’s sobering to witness the systematic dismantling of our rights. Goodbye, habeas corpus! Goodbye, freedom of speech!

The latest scary thing I read was that in February 2008 the gov will require US citizens to “apply” before they are allowed any foreign travel. I don’t know if this is a rumor, or true, but it is from this article by Naomi Wolf: http://www.commondreams.org/archive/2007/11/05/5018/

It’s also disconcerting hearing some of the remarks of people in public. A vendor at the West Side Market (a huge traditional food marketplace) appealed to our “patriotic” fears in trying to get us to shop his stall. He said the other row was owned by foreigners. I understand protectionist sentiment, but it feels icky in this context. And another vendor asked us how our travels went, then asked if we had trouble getting through passport control. She then said, “I wish they’d only allow Christians LIKE US into this country.” Wow. Why would she assume that Smith and I are Xtians?

READING (Wednesday) and ART SHOW (Friday)

Nov 7, 7 p.m. - Cleveland - the Smiths read at Visual Voices Bookstore. 1023 Kenilworth Ave., between W. 10th and W. 11 in Tremont, Cleveland, OH 44113. For more info, call 216.961.0084 or e-mail info@visiblevoicebooks.com. THIS IS OUR LAST SCHEDULED READING IN CLEVELAND.

Nov 9 - 6 - 10 p.m. ArtWalk - Cleveland - “OFFWORLD” featuring the art of Kathy Ireland Smith, also art of Steven B. Smith and Mother Dwarf Brandt Gallery, Tremont.

HEAVEN AIN’T GOTTA BE LAST

Cleveland sidewalk (photo by Lady)

HEAVEN AIN’T GOTTA BE LAST

Whatcha reading?

“An article on climate change affecting billions through wars.”

We’re in a frigging disaster movie. And the price of admittance is our lives.

“Yeah, wouldn’t it be nice if there were an Afterlife? Losing my life wouldn’t seem so terrible if I could just have some continuity of consciousness afterwards, some kind of afterlife. Eternal peace.”

But who says the afterlife is peaceful? You know, you think about it. Let’s say there is an afterlife. After all, the body loses 21 grams when it dies. Some say that’s our master program. And it returns to the Great Databank in the Sky to be recycled.

OK, so now, you got two worlds, two existences. Living people on Earth, and wherever their master program goes when they die, the Spirit World. Now, there’s a problem here. People simplistically say, ‘Earth existence bad, Spirit World good.’ But we already know this isn’t true. A lot of folks insist there’re at least Three over there. Heaven, Purgatory and Hell. And it doesn’t matter. There’s either this One Existence: you’re born, you eat, you die. Or there’s more than one. And if there’s more than one, there’s probably more than just one more than one. There could be a whole elevator series of Life After Existence After Life After Existence.

Who knows. You might go from Earth to Hell to Purgatory to Heaven, and who knows what after that? Heaven ain’t gotta be last.

Now, my theory is each level on the Other Side is just a wee bit nicer. Because each one’s a test. This is all if you’re Good, of course. If you’re Bad, the Other Side’s gonna be worse. If you’re Good, the Other Side’s not quite as Bad. But even not quite as Bad still got Bad. You got flesh sharks here, you probably got Spirit Sharks there. You got slimy flesh politicians here, you have bloodsuckers there. It’s just spirit wounds rather than flesh wounds, and they’re gonna hurt just as friggin bad.

So the way I figure it, if you keep being Good, and you keep dying, you’re gonna keep being born into Bad. Until finally the Bad’s all gone, and you get Good.

At this point, you’re either so weary from getting this far just surviving the tests that you don’t give a shit, or you reach Eternal Peaceful Nirvana and you’re bored out of your gourd.

“So are you saying that Badness is interesting?”

That’s an interesting question. Yes and yes and no.

I mean, great actors always like to play the bad guy in the movies, cuz the bad guy gets to chew up more scenery and have more fun. Bad guys get the best lines. Better wardrobes. They usually get the girl for most of the movie until they have to give her back.

Bad guys have more fun. Bad guy movies and bad guy books and bad guy TV shows are more popular. So yes, it’s more fun to be the bad guy.

And humanity’s fascinated with badness to begin with. They stop and look at road kill. Slow down and sniff for blood at accidents. Will click on the most horrendous misery-bringing story.

If you saw two headlines, one said, ‘Boy Does Something Good’ or ‘Man Rips Mom’s Head Off and Stuffs Her Down Toilet’ you can guess which one’s gonna get more readers. I think people secretly yearn to be wild. And getting to watch or read about bad is their only outlet. It’s catharsis.

And bad eats up time and shows you what you’re made of. Just surviving this life, I can’t believe how much work it is. And when bad hits you, like your mother taking nine months to die, bad just builds and builds and builds. And you learn in what you do, who you are.

So bad makes time pass more quickly, just surviving.

Ultimately bad detracts you from good, and good is always deeper, richer, more rewarding. Probably better looking, too. There’s a beauty to good.

Weak ending. See, even this, the good ending is weak. Bad is more interesting.

UNINTENDEND CONSEQUENCES DOWN AMONG THE SINNERS

Barcelona - Commissioned Graffiti (photo by Lady)

UNINTENDEND CONSEQUENCES DOWN AMONG THE SINNERS

“I feel like I’m cheating, taking photographs. I’m just shooting what I see.”

But it’s what YOU see. It’s what YOU selected out of everything else going on at the time. It’s your eye. It’s just detail in somebody else’s existence.

You’re the editor. You’re taking one detail and saying, ‘Hey, this is worth looking at.’ It could be a photograph, it could be a painting, just about anything. But you’re the selector. Conductor.

You’re an attractive woman.

“I am? I’m gonna go take a look at myself.”

What do you see?

“I don’t know. A girl-woman.”

Well, you are a girl-woman. Don’t you see yourself that way in your mind?

“I guess so. Yeah. And you’re raising me.”

No, not raisin. You’re more in the grape area.

“Ha ha.”

Well, there’s my grape joke. Trouble is, it’s not tellable. I’ve got a chicken joke, and a knock-knock joke. I’ve gotta get a tellable grape joke…

“You have many.”

…of my own. I got three grape jokes.

“Uh huh?”

What’s purple and lies on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean?

“Hm?”

Moby Grape.

What’s purple and lies in the North Atlantic Ocean?

“Huh?”

Grape Britain.

“That’s terrible.”

And what’s purple, and punishable by 10 to 20 years in prison?

“Hm?”

Statutory Grape.

“That one’s OK.”

I think my favorite bad taste joke of all time is the little boy comes walking into the kitchen, licking his fingers, saying, ‘Mom, remember that soft spot in Baby’s head?’

“Ugh.”

That goes along with my own line. Children belong — in cages, or soup cans.

“That’s terrible.”

It’s absurd.

“Anyways, I think we ought to talk more about ME, the girl-woman.”

Does that mean you’re going to grow up to be a woman-woman? If you had a sex change, you’d grow up to be a man-woman.

“What is a girl-woman?”

Don’t ask me. I don’t understand women of any age or size or genus.

My ten pounds I’ve gained have gone straight to my face. Gonna have to grow my hair long and straight down, so just this thin slice of face remains.

“Is that why they grow long hair? To look thinner?”

That, and to hide. And like Veronica Lake, to look mysterious. She hid one eye behind her falling hair, and seduced you with the other.

“I don’t know. My world is so far removed from that. World no longer seems mysterious.”

It *mystifies* me.

“I have found magic in revelation. Mystery uncovered. Horror revealed, tho, too.”

Your basic magical mystery tour.

“Well, no. Cuz there’s no more mystery.”

Ah… You’re wrong. How do you think we got together?

“I followed your clues.”

They weren’t left by me.

“Oh hoh yes they were. I saw your GO AWAY mat. I thought, ‘CHALLENGE!’ You left clues. Artwork. Poetry.”

I left a lot of clues along the wayside, then.

“That’s what art is. CLUE. It’s the CLUE to YOU.”

I dare say folk put my stuff together, they’re gonna have a hard time placing me.

“You’re a scientific primitive.”

Darned right.

Ah, your fingers are cool, but not cold.

“That’s because I warm them up in my crotch.”

Aha. Finger warmers.

Barcelona (photo by Lady)

CLEVELAND ABBEY ROAD PHOTOS

I shot these this morning. They’re from a big decrepit building
on Abbey Road in the Tremont neighborhood of Cleveland.

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CIVILIZATION vs STRATEGIC THINKING SYNDROME

Tremont, Cleveland (Photo by Lady)

When anthropologists uncovered more about Neanderthals, they were amazed to find burial rituals. Civilization. In civilizations, people have concern for others.

In the most civil civilizations, all people have an opportunity to survive and thrive. Civilization provides a means for individuals to become socially and financially mobile and it protects and honors its citizens.

I believe in social security, free education, free health care, full representation, small business rights, anti-trust laws, lawyers, free speech, freedom of religion, and the constitution.

I am far far left of the mainstream. But twenty years ago I’d probably be considered dead center. I believe in a mixed economy and social freedom. I believe in a government that serves and represents its citizens. Democracy.

In this era, most do not keep abreast of news and nuance, and intelligent discussion is not valued. I wish we didn’t keep falling for these people who claim to be for our interests while stabbing us in the back in smoky back rooms.

I think a lot of the liberal left falls victim to “strategic thinking” syndrome. They want all or nothing support for their party without any critique.

The problem with strategic thinking syndrome is that it doesn’t really advance one’s causes. If politicians can’t be held accountable, then we are not being represented, and we’ve not really achieved anything.

Strategic thinking syndrome is a dead end. It allows Democrats to fall to the easiest political path while taking psychic advantage of the left. The left is always told that Democrats are for its interests, but to just wait, that it’ll improve step by step. Well, at this rate, it’ll take a thousand years to have citizens’ interests represented. The Democrats say they have to deal with “real world” politics, meanwhile they conspire with oligarchic corporations, making the “real world” even worse.

real demons

Prospect, Cleveland (photo by Lady)

REAL DEMONS

I would like to know why it is necessary for the see-i-a to:

- put hoods on people when they take them away
- diaper people and shackle them to the floors of planes
- keep people in solitary confinement long enough to make them crazy
- h2o-board prisoners

#3 & 4 seem like definite torture to me. #1 & 2 could be rationalized as not causing permanent damage (tho I wouldn’t be one to rationalize this).

People have died during “interrogation.” Methinks that would only happen if the interrogation crossed the line into torture.

Does power know that it is evil? What do the soldiers or agents think when they hood and shackle and diaper a person? Do they feel remorse? Do they sleep at night?

Many of these detainees are simply people who had enemies from their home countries and are pointed out because of personal vendettas. I’ve read reports that people are captured in Pakistan and put in containers and sent to secret camps for reward money from the US. Some of these prisoners die en route.

If you believe you are fighting evil and that you are good, why would you torture? Isn’t torture indicative of your own evil? How is this rationalized as a good thing? (The ‘ticking bomb’ scenario is a disingenuous explanation.)

I really want to know the inside of these guys’ minds. Do their acts of exploitation bother them? Does this even hit the radar of their consciousnesses, or are they conscious?

I don’t like to demonize, but it’s difficult for me to see the power class and its enablers (both the GOP and the DLC) as something other than demons.

Ontario and Prospect, Cleveland (photo by Lady)

the SMITH primer

It’s hard to be a person on this planet. One of the biggest problems is that the people you love are the ones who have conceptions of who you are.

One of the biggest things Smith has taught me is that I can only be me. I can try to be completely agreeable to everyone around, but it still won’t eliminate all friction.

Smith is the Anti-hero, Anti-PC. It’s odd, because normally such folk lie right rather than left.

When we shacked up, Smith told me he’s gonna say what he’s gonna say, and I might not like it. For example, he might think a girl’s purty, so he’ll say it. And if I try to control him, tell him to not say such things, he’ll start clamming up around me, and we won’t have fluid communication.

Most people filter what they say so as to not offend. But for someone who’s trying to be honest and creatively fertile with their writing, someone who’s trying to uncork expressiveness, gloves come off.

There are drawbacks to this philosophy but there’s also a remarkable freedom.