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Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
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Archive for June, 2007

pod units

Sunday, June 24th, 2007

foto by smith.

everyone seems to live in Conformville, in the state of Conforming, in the country of Conformia, spending most of their time down at the Conform-Arama. on one level the scariest movie i ever saw was the 3 versions of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, because pods replace people in them, and it’s coming true here now – pods walk the earth, make pod tv shows for more pods, wear pod unit clothes, eat pod unit food units, acquire pod units of pod sameness. Alice Cooper sang in Clones (We’re All) “I just want to be myself be myself be myself be myself.”

i got stoned with Alice Cooper at a baltimore radio station back in 1973… him and Flo & Eddy who recorded as Phospherescent Leech and Eddy with Frank Zappa due to record contract hassles (they were the important half of The Turtles). Alice was a wee bit surly, but Flo & Eddy were a delight to be around. as i left the radio station (without my Alice Cooper review for the newspaper), the parking lot was filled with screaming teenyboppers – one of them ran up to me and breathlessly asked “are you somebody?” sad to say i had to say “no, i’m nobody.” now i am somebody – but few know.

foto by smith

haven’t quite found our guests yet, though we did have cyber mail contact yesterday, so they’re not technically lost… just misplaced.

foto by smith

our guests arrived.



Saturday, June 23rd, 2007

“Both Sides of Catville” – Essaouira, Morocco
Photo by Lady

this desert
this was once lush jungle
until writers ate the trees)

the facts we consume

who rule the world
benefit governments
protect them
little help you
oh the rich, good & right…

Lady K


What are you thinking about?

“Oh, the police. I’m wondering if they are more or less corrupt here than in the US.”

I think corruption crosses country. You always have good cops, but power corrupts, money corrupts, the occasional hit contract corrupts. Cops have too many chances to be crooked.

Although in the food chain, cops might be slightly more honorable than politicians.

“I always thought of the word ‘corruption’ as an adjective to be used in specific, special cases.”

Ah, so if it’s systematic, it’s not corrupt?

“Depends on your frame of reference.”

So an honest cop would be corrupt, because he’s corrupting a corrupt system.

“What’s your experience with police corruption?”

Well the plain clothed cops who beat the shit out of me and put me in the hospital… after they gave me my tickets for drunken disorderly, they went back and talked about it and decided they would also charge me with assaulting them. Because they left bruises on me and they had to cover their ass. I spent the night in jail, but I got probation.

“How much did they hurt you?”

I had ugly bruises on my hips and on my sides, my torso. I mean, they were in plain clothes. I didn’t even know they were cops. But I was amazingly drunk. I have a smart mouth and I could’ve said something I shouldn’t. I have no idea. I don’t even remember being beaten. I remember being in the back of the car, furious.

“Did you file a complaint?”

My lawyer told me, “forget it.” We even had photos of my bruises. There were some facial bruises too.

There were at least three, maybe four. Cops. One lady and three guys. I’m sure glad I don’t drink no more. I ain’t even tempted.

“I like the idea of oblivion sometimes.”

I just buy a hammer and keep hitting my head with it until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

My father, every time you’d hurt yrself, would say, ‘you’ll feel better when it stops hurting.’ I think Pappy had a bit of sadist in him.

“About our volley of conversation; I think we’re associative people. That’s why we can converse. Hey, let me lie my head down on your lap.”

Wait, don’t lie down yet. I’m going to make another pipe. I just haven’t made the shape yet. The shape of things that are done.

“How apropos; the shape of things that are done. That’s brilliant. Everything that’s done is a shape.”

Maybe we could use that as one of the ten dollar philosophy pellets we’ll sell in our philosophy franchise.

“Yes, Reality is in the shape of things that were done.”


woo, do, be, see

Saturday, June 23rd, 2007

foto by smith.

found our visiting friends from poland – sort of. they reached marrakech and will bus here today or tomorrow. can’t believe we invited folk to cross countries to visit our refrigerator-less hot-water-less oven-less existence. although we do have old world crooked alley walled city street magic right outside our door, and hashish, so we’re not entirely empty-handed. i’d visit myself if i weren’t already here.

this is the final day of the annual 5 day gnaoua music festival. we’ve heard bits of bands scattered about the city’s various stages on differing days, and the music comes across like one continuous contiguous group playing the same song variation over and over – basic sound is mid-1970s live Santana with a bit of reggae, rap, trance and dance thrown into the mix. decent sound, but formulaic – like reggae, it’s essentially the same song over and over and over. except for 2 pay-to-enter enclosed concerts each night at midnight, it’s all free.

the narrow streets are packed with people. it’s like trying to push through times square in nyc during rush hour. lot of dreadlocks and lean young genderless flesh in long surfer shorts – with the occasional fat european gringo added for flavor.

saw a national geographic documentary on african crocodiles who starve most the year but wait for the annual migration of gazelle-like critters – when the hundreds of thousands of 4-hooveds try to drink or cross the river, the crocodiles go crazy in feeding frenzy. the massive flow of tourists past the endless stalls of vendors reminded me of that scene.

no room at the inn, so lots of concert goers are sleeping on the beach. lot more trash on the beach too. people are essentially piss, shit, trash producers – they come in, eat the environment, then poison what’s left with their wastes. iran and iraq used to be lush jungle before man came along and devoured it. so much for the garden of eden. we didn’t need no god to kick us out of eden – we poisoned our way out, killed it before we left.

our canister of cooking gas ran out – makes 5 times in past 7 months – ran out in liznjan croatia, albeilhan france, 4th floor marrakech, 6th floor marrakech, and here in essaouira. i’m learning how to deal with real life – unlike the ivory-towered intellectuals. as the real intellectual Noam Chomsky says, “The only thing I ever get irritated about is elite intellectuals, the stuff they do I do find irritating.”

lady’s been cooking tajines. a tajine is the basic moroccan cook pot (along with the couscous cookers) – it is a stoneware flat bowlish bottom with a conical stoneware top. you pile veggies and whatever else you can catch in the bowl, put the top on, turn the heat to the lowest it can go, and cook for 1 to 3 hours depending on what you’ve used. sort of like a dry-ish stew. tasty.

lady needs to write a world food blog – she’s picked up various cooking skills in each country… learned how to make pan coffee in croatia, came to terms with soup making in france, has made both old fashioned moroccan couscous and tajines here. each place has different foods in different languages and endless variations on cooking gear – from full stove with ovens to no stove at all to our current two burner gas camp stove.

there’s a melon here looks like a cantaloupe on the outside but is green like honeydew inside – best melon we’ve tasted. it’s difficult not knowing the names of things. i did identify a couple of the birds we saw in and on the ocean though – cormorants and egrets. and there’re a lot of storks in marrakech nesting atop the minarets. never saw these birds before. seeing all these vistas, peoples, birds, plants, animals past 11 months has changed the way i watch movies – now when i see a dusty arab town in a film, i think “i’ve been there, i know how hot and sweaty and dusty and smelly and bug-ridden that place is.”

did an old-day-smith: 9:30 a.m. – after jogging, lady’s cleaning up in her hammon (public bath – that’s her above and below this morning). i sat down, toked a jam jar of smoke. it pleases some bohemian beatnik bad part of my brain to start the day stoned. back in my cleveland days before lady came along like goldilocks on steroids, every morning i wasn’t at work, i’d buy a newspaper, make a pot of coffee, and get stoned sitting in the sunlight consuming the two. a nice life, but not something you can keep doing forever. after awhile you negate the magic and reality asks you to move along. this is only my 2nd morning stone in a year, and they’re both delicious. we’ll walk in the sun this morning and day flow will replace morning glow. by noon i’ll be normal – or as normal as a mutant can be. i walk among hooo-mans, who-mans.

told lady i toked and wrote. she said “you’re bad. i don’t know how you do it. as long as you’re happy.” it is getting harder… in many ways straight is easier now. i’ll be heading stoned straight for england, and straight in england i’ll be.

it’s never too late to go, flow, woo, do, be, see, yearn, learn – spurn the old, spin the new. adieu.

foto by smith


no address apartment on no name street

Friday, June 22nd, 2007

foto by smith.

here i sit thinking of people i can’t locate. our guests from krakow were to land in marrakech this morning. last we heard from them was just before they flew to london 2 days ago. we never finalized concrete plans, and we’re phone-less, address-less, and vehicle-less here 2 hours west of marrakech inside a rat alley warren of a walled city. our sole means of communicating is email – which means they have to find a cyber cafe to send and we have to keep checking our cyber cafe to receive.

yet somehow i expect it will all work out fine.

last december two poets (holbrook & salinger) because of bad weather and inept airlines, flew from cleveland ohio to paris france to frankfurt germany to zagreb croatia where they rented a car and drove to pula croatia. i’d given them bogus directions from pula to our little fishing village, yet somehow they drove through the unknown night and called us from one village away. we ran up to the highway where 60 seconds later their car slipped out of the dark and stopped before us. we all hugged in astonishment.

lately life keeps reminding me how much control i lost when we sold our studio a year ago. since then we’ve been at the mercy of friends… strangers… train, plane, subway, bus schedules… hotel, hostel, apartment, guest house availability… bathroom facilities… laundry facilities… weather… border guards… local customs… usually all in languages i can’t speak, read, or understand. my life used to be run my way – now it’s whatever happens to run by my way as i bob along reality’s surface bouyed by unknown currenst.

life’s a bowl of collaboration.

foto by smith



Thursday, June 21st, 2007


“The evil are really Lizards. That would explain the existence of evil people.”

Aw, naw. There are just evil people. Lizards might help people be evil but people are evil on their own. If the lizards took over, some men would work for them, hunting and herding other men.

Some people are just bad. Some are weak, some lazy, some scared. A whole lot are real busy just living their lives. There’s more good than bad, but the good’s preoccupied. It’s hard being alive.

“It’s also hard trying to be good.”

It’s easier these days to be good than non-good because it’s less of an energy drain.

“Being bad is a *psychic* energy drain.”

Yes, it’s difficult to keep track of all yr lies. Plus ya gotta come up with your bad deeds to DO in the first place. It’s not easy being bad. Maybe we could start a business called “Nefarious Deeds.” We could come up with evil deed plans for Bad Guys. “Evil for Dummies.” Make a mint.

“We could compete with Ahmed Chalabi.”

Who’s that?

“He’s the guy who was paid to supply bad intelligence on Iraq.”

Oh yes, he was the guy who made $340,000 a month from our government. Why don’t I get these kinds of offers to sell out?

“I think there’s almost a science in manipulating people so they can’t figure out what truth is. Like all these facts are out there for those who care but they’re all layered and layered in levels of deception.”

That’s what the corporations do to the government when they’re sued. They give information to the government when subpeona’d, but they bury it in thousands and thousands of boxes. Make the government look for it.

There are a lot of lizards out there. Lizards and rats. I wonder if they mate. Have little rat lizards for dessert.

“Do you know the lizards’ agenda?”

No. But I suspect they could be behind global warming. They are cold blooded critters.

“Prior to this you’ve been preoccupied with the Rats.”

Well, the rats were running us through mazes. All those construction cones you see in Cleveland. They were running us through rat tests. They would rearrange the maze every night, sometimes more than once.

“I think you could be right.”

Road cones are obviously a psychological rat trap maze. And who would be running mazes among human experiments if it weren’t the Rats? I think the lizards are just a side problem.

I think the lizards and the rats couldn’t get along because the lizards would eat the rats. It’s not nice to eat your partner unless you’re consenting adults. I think it’s the warm blood / cold blood thing. Some metaphors just aren’t meant to intermix.

“I think you’re right. The lizards must be behind global warming. That’s why they’re taking over the governments and corporations.”

Well, the most primitive part of the brain is the limbic system, which is known as the reptilian brain. Limbic is primitive fight or flight. It’s interesting. Brain studies have shown that men in relaxed states idle in the limbic system, the primitive brain. Women idle a couple steps UP in the symbolic communication section. Which makes sense. Man kill; bring home; eat. Woman are wired to hear sound of child whimper and to be able to read faces.

Man’s wired to feed the brood. Woman’s wired to raise the brood. These studies also found women use a lot more of their brains than men do. And they remember things more accurately over longer periods of time.

* * *

“So crystal meth rots your teeth?”

Yes. I don’t know why. I snorted crystal and I shot crystal. But this was back in the 60s, usually, well, some into the 70s.

“You seem so responsible. This is so hard to imagine.”

Well, the me now wouldn’t do what me then did. But the me now arises out of what that me DID do then. Glad I did it, not doin it no more. Would never suggest a friend do it.

“Why is it called crystal?”

It’s a crystal powder. We got pharmaceutical crystal methodryne. And it looked like bright glistening salt crystals. It was real good stuff. I think we snorted and shot for three months it.

“Who’s we?”

Macklin, who was living with me on Calvert Street, and homosexual John, and some artist downstairs. But the woman selling it was trying to raise bail to get her boyfriend out of jail who’d broken into the store and stolen it.

So my exposure to needles was a pharmaceutical drug which induces intelligence gains of 8 points and euphoria administered by a male hospital nurse with a virgin needle.

“I see a class divide between the bohemians and the people who had to break in and get stuff.”

Actually, if you’re a junkie, it’s the only way to feed your habit. And there are more junkies in the poor section of life. But there’re junkies in every section along the way.

“But you never considered yourself a junkie.”

No. For some reason–except for alcohol–I could take it or leave it. Plus I always worked 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week. You can’t do that if you give in to drugs. Besides, I’m not a down drug type person. And you can’t do drugs all the time; you just wear yourself out. Except maybe cocaine. You keep doing cocaine all the time, and you DO wear yourself out.

“Would I notice any different mannerisms in you if you did coke or speed?”

Oh, I’d start talking a blue streak. And according to government studies, good speed raises your IQ an average of 8 points while you’re on it. So you feel smarter, you actually ARE smarter, and there’s a euphoria from the drug, and 4 to 12 hours of energy.

Actually a lot of LSD in the 60s and 70s was laced with speed. And a lot of coke too, back then. I think coke’s a 20 minute high. Americans like their highs to last longer.

“Hash is perfect for me. Doesn’t leave me stupid the next day. This is kinda groggy though. I like euphoria.”

Ah. That’s the one thing about drugs. When you take the right ones and the right amount, you really get a nice feeling. But as Ramdass says, “You gonna go up, you’re gonna come back down.” Ramdass. Timothy Leary’s partner.


doin time

Thursday, June 21st, 2007

foto by smith.

Doing Time

Moon meat and Moses
Sucker song along
New lie highway
Old road alone

Need new lies
Old lies don’t do
New supposes
For falling through

New excuses
And pretty parts
To hide abusive
Hollow hearts

Toys for boys
Swirls for girls
Swine to enjoy
Those hurled pearls

For Babylon baby
Ain’t another time
There ain’t no maybe
It’s this life’s the crime

And I’m doing time

foto by smith



Wednesday, June 20th, 2007

Residential Neighborhood of Essaouira


You should always be aware. You never know when something’s gonna sneak up, some bit of reality.

“Why does everything seem to happen *all at once*?”

Because time doesn’t work right. Time’s variable. Sometimes it’s slow, sometimes it’s fast, sometimes it disappears, sometimes it waits around forever. And sometimes it just doesn’t work right. It’s too complicated to get all the bits and pieces dancing in the same way all at the right time. Sometimes there are glitches.

I watch the pattern. And it’s easy to see rends, flaws and specks in the pattern. Everything has its own logic. Sometimes not all things belong that one can see.

“What kind of flaws have you seen?”

It still pisses me off, but I still miss a scene in Citizen Kane. I read it was a famous scene because they couldn’t afford a train for the movie. They cut out a cardboard train and moved it front of a spotlight, so you see a shadow pull up on the scene. Then I think calendar pages start tearing themselves off to show the passage of time.

Anyway I read about it, then I got to see the movie in Baltimore in the 70s. And I saw the scene. But when I bought the movie in the 90s, it wasn’t there. And I’ve talked to people about it and researched it, and evidently it doesn’t exist.

Sometimes I think you go to sleep in one reality and there’s a glitch and you wake up in an alternate reality. Some mornings the glasses that fit the face I went to bed with don’t fit the face I wake with.

“Ah, the Case of the Changed Face!”

Yes, the Case of the Changed Face. There are just glitches. It’s hard for them to weave all these lies together just right, so sometimes you catch them at it. Keep your eyes open.

“Well, that would make sense. If you’re proficient at movies even to the point of having reviewed them for a paper. If *you* say something’s missing, I believe you. I mean it’s easier for them to fuck with memories but famous movies – there’s something wrong in the programming.”

Well maybe that was in the movie I saw, but I didn’t wake up right in the same slipstream. It’s entirely possible. A lot of people theorize there’re an infinite number of realities coexisting. And I can see events in one altering events in another. It’s like that butterfly breaking dishes in the china shop.

“Ah, that metaphor must be from another reality.”

Anyway, you gotta keep your eyes open because they change things on ya. Gotta be nimble, pliable. And most of all, you have to have a sense of humor!

Get them to laugh along with you, sometimes they leave you alone for awhile, the Fates.

“Hm. That picture on your computer screen — didn’t you use it already for a blog?”

Nope. Never did.

“That’s weird. That must have been from another reality. Seems the realities are getting turbulent. Remember when you thought we got that cookie from a different shop but in my reality it was the right shop? We’d better keep an eye on each other, see that we don’t disappear.”

Oh, oh.

“We can tie each other together at night. That way they can’t change us as easily in our sleep.”

I get to tie you up first.

“There’ve gotta be more glitches than just memory and film. There’s gotta be weird psychedelic shit too.”

That’s the only way we catalog it. Is in our memory. Besides, sometimes you catch one of these glitches but you can’t process it immediately. By the time you do all that you have is your memory to deal with it.

This is weird. Back in my serious drinking days I was staggering up from the train under Tower City before they turned it into a shopping mall. I looked into where they were constructing it. And I saw two policeman beating a person with their clubs.

“Oh God.”

And the policemen, from waist up, were lizard-like. So I tried to sneak around for a better look. And they caught me and they escorted me out of the building. So I called Beth Wolfe and told her I was going back in, just in case I didn’t go back out.

And I went back in, and hid behind one of the potted plants to watch what was going on. And they found me and took me back outside and told me to please go away, or they would arrest me. So I went away.

“So the lizard police took you out again?”

Oh, they changed to human then. See, while they were beating this guy their enjoyment got to them, and they lost control of holding their human form, and I could see their lizard essence shining through. They had long shiny tongues.

So that could be a clue.

“How do you know you weren’t hallucinating?”

I don’t think I’ve ever had alcoholic hallucinations. But I was seriously drunk. See, that’s the trouble with all these glitches and clues. There’s always just that little bit of self-doubt. *Did I really see that?*

Actually I started doubting something that did happen. I asked Wilcox if it were true, and Wilcox said it was. He, Masumi and I were in the theatre watching Fire Starter and in the scene where all the federal agents pull up outside the farm and she starts setting everything on fire with her mind.. the film burned. Guess it got caught on the projector, got caught up, and you could see the film melt, dissolve. So they gave us free passes for the next showing.

I was beginning to doubt that, because that’s too perfect. The movie burning during the fire scene of Firestarter? It’s really easy to doubt yourself if somebody doesn’t reinforce you.

The lizards were the weirdest physical thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen my future first wife’s face turn from one hideous sea creature monster into another endlessly. Just morphing into endless hideous faces. But I was on LSD at the time. So there’s a serious chance that that wasn’t a glitch. Although when I was having sex with her, I hallucinated being in an endless dragon tunnel. But that was enjoyable.

“That’s very strange, Smith.”

What’s strange about it?

“It seems familiar, but not of this planet. I think you do not belong…”

I may have wandered off Reality.

“I think we’re both fringe reality folk. People don’t realize it, but Reality has mesas and dropoffs, frayed edges.”

That’s interesting, because you can reweave these frays into slightly different ways of being.

“Yeah, I enjoy applying visualizations, metaphors to rend a meaning of my current context. I never forsaw this plateau, though. It’s like I was crawling below sea level, and now I’m on a mountain top.”

Sacks of Exxon Mobile HOPE
Essaouira Poor Neighboorhood
on Border of Mad Max Industrial Zone



Wednesday, June 20th, 2007

foto by smith


They call me bone
in secret name
no one knows is secret

Covered heart alone
carries weight

Meat is meat
if no magic
magic no magic no meat

Uncovered heart atones
recent track
marries meat to bone



Tuesday, June 19th, 2007


I wrote down an idea for a Smokey Grey plot from reading an article about Einstein. The article says Einstein’s relatives went through his stuff, got rid of anything that made him look bad or less than perfect.

“That’s terrible.”

Yes, that fact, combined with how most scientists thought Einstein was ‘out of it’ the last two-thirds of his life. He was not considered a factor in the equation anymore, even though he started the equation.

“But it turns out he was.”

He was what?

“He was on cue, on ball. He anticipated some of the intricacies of modern string theory.”

He pointed out some serious problems with quantum mechanics. He said the universe would have to be modeled algebraically. And now they think he’s right, due to string theory details.

So Smokey Grey’s case, he finds out the family came across the folder labeled “farts”. Embarrassed, they 86’d it. It turns out that farts really was the answer that was the Unified Field Theory.

“This sounds a little juvenile.”

And FARTS’ gonna have to stand for something. You know, “FINAL ANSWER ROTATED THROUGH SPACE” or something, and now of course we’ll never know.

That’s the only thing not used in my pocket notebook besides one old rant about the rich.

“What’s the old rant?”

We’ve all heard it before:

All philosophers try to fit messy reality into their neat, preconceived constructs. They all seem to think if you kill God or the Evil State, Pure Good Man will rise to paradise. None of them even get close to the basic truth.

In the Beginning, the Strong took what they wanted. And they made laws so they could keep what they stole. They hired thugs called police and armies and judges and jails to keep what they got, and keep the poor in place.

The Rich Rule. They run the world for their benefit. What is good or right for mankind or the Earth has nothing to do with it. The Rich rule for the Rich.

Laws are made to benefit the rich. Governments work for the rich. Good, right, morality have nothing to do with it. It’s all about the Gots protecting what they Got. And help them get what little you got, too.

The Rich are what is wrong with the world.


truth truce

Tuesday, June 19th, 2007

foto by smith

Truth Truce

Get the truth
Get your red hot truths
Truths du jour
Truths of the day
Today’s truth today
Your style of while
Your version emergin’
Too truths
Truce truths
Which truth you want
We got em all
Today’s truth at today’s price
For today’s people
Step right up
Step right in it
kleenex xtra

we are the fine print)

foto by smith


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