Meandering Essay about My Cheap Guitar

Gotta say it, the red menace can be wonderful. That is to say, if you love buying cheap shit off of eBay, the quality and beauty of crap has been inspirational in my home, and could be in yours, too, if you will simply lower your standards and listen.

So true is this crock, I boast that the prettiest object in my moldering hovel is my brand-new electric guitar. It is a daringly accurate copy of the famous Fender Stratocaster.

The guitar is carnal lusting candy apple red, with the virginal white pick guard, and white maple neck, like an anorexic blonde Angel's leg. The hardwood headstock, with shining stainless steel tuning pegs for the Angels toes, is the arch type and personification of glam rock, and of hair bands of the 1980s as well.One should never underestimate the carnality of commercial music and of cheap lurid products. The price of the guitar I bought was pornography in and of itself, a titillating $100 for a guitar that looks precisely like the ones Jimi Hendrix took such pleasure in smashing on stage, his great private package flopping up and down as he struck  blow for blow, pelvic thrust for likewise,  the guitar against his great Marshall amp.


My new generic copy of a Fender Stratocaster will make noise at least as beautiful as Hendrix' noise, even if I don't play a guitar all that well. The guitar may be a cheap and inferior copy of the original, but at least the sound of it being battered against floorboards will sound the same as that of greatness being equally destructive.  A musician needn't be the best, he needs only to entertain.

Allergic to Phenomena

This junior shit-storm of writing is about the phenomenology of not liking people, places and things.

There's been abundant new interest in allergies last long while.  Some new thoughts pulled from sources real and imagined is that cold air, such as that which is freezing people's ass off this fucking awful November, 2014, in the 'Burgh and lottsa other spots, may act as an allergin.  The cold, cold air, breathed in, makes my nose run like Angel Falls.  The new explanation of an allergy is that any foreign substance, near about, could cause a reaction, such as sneezing, so to remove the substance, and in the main, a substance that may be harmless to most people may be toxic to persons with an allergy.  Cold air may be perceived by the body as a foreign substance, even if you merely perceive freezing your ass off, with your nose running Old Faithful.   The reaction is the same whether caused by cold air or rag weed.

But there may be something new for the witches brew.  I am proposing that people are prone to allergies to perception.  Not all perception.  A racist might be allergic to perception of a minority person.   But more notably, people sometimes, and too often, respond to the sight of something foreign to them, causing anxiety, fear, loathing, and long winded rants about how the visage is dooming him or her.   Many people are allergic to bad architecture, some are allergic to any new type of clothing or hair style, even when it's some nice shit that ordinary motherfuckers are just not ready for yet.

People are allergic to foreign phenomena.  It's like the way some people wheeze like a punctured accordion when golden rods or rag weed is shoulder high in an asshole neighbor's untended side yard.  I'm still allergic to the sight of people dressed head to toe in major league sports duds.   But then, to be fair, maybe Pittsburgh is allergic to the sight of me.  Fuck 'em.  People can't help feeling the way they do.    People are allergic to the sight of each other.