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10 22 2024 guitar, bass, harmonica, digital enhancement

ANMR0048

remix: bass, harmonica, snare drum 10 10 2024

Spoken word fiction: Here With Us

This doesn't happen very often...

 ...fuck me adventuresome, I have a guest with me.   The man has been through a lot.  We met at a peace rally.  There was some decent looking protesters there, both genders, nothing hostile or discriminatory, but we were talking, and some easy action would have done us both some good.  We were finding common ground.  I'd like to do more to introduce my guest,  but that would defeat the whole purpose of the man spilling his guts as he does.  You need to comprehend this person:

,,,

Hello.   My name is Morris Yuertzl-Bingle and I am a Hebrew American pothead.   Before I say anything for or against the use of marijuana, I am advising everyone to not get high before watching a circumcision.  I was at a briss last month, and oy vey the Maui Wowie had everyone hallucinating.  Good thing Rabbi Goldberg does the same good work, straight or stoned.    It all went like a Purim party, all good, we had a nice time.   Let's get into some folklore.

The yiddish word 'schlamaazel' translates to English, like a dream, as 'victim of bad luck' or of circumstance.  Schlamaazels, classically, are hard working, ethically conflicted, over-worked, under appreciated, and it's not because the person is a schmuck or a schmegeggy.    This individual is neither a putz nor a shiksa.  It may be married person whose spouse is the abominable snow person.  We all may find our self in an agonizing  relationship with a verbisina or sasquatch of either gender, or as many as one can name.    I feel at times like a schlamaazel when the weed I get is not it's festive finest.   Hebrew American potheads are a fussy people.   

We are a minority group.   And as was always true, we are open to conditions which make us  schlamaazel.   Consider the sappy differential between having a medical weed card, and having a Ph.d.   How fucking unfair.   I produce vivid fantasies when while high as a Georgia pine.  I publish a shitload of very important papers, such as this one.  Where does a doctorate get you?   If it's in political science, probably a sad future at the fried chicken shack.  

addenda:

Hello again, I’m  (more or less)  Bruce and my pal Morris is visiting again.  What a grand time we are having.   We’re talking about the particularities of being a Hebrew American pothead.

Morris tells me that Jews, or Hebrew Americans, some of them, really like the stuff.   He may be centered too much on his own most immediate community, but so Morris says, he is more intellectual than other ethnic weed mavens..   Soon as Morris smokes his first ganja stick and a gummy, he can’t shut up about the effect on  beat generation poets,  of weed, LSD, magic schrooms, and why not mention the hard drugs, but not by name because illegal and too dangerous for gentle, scholarly souls, such as my pal  Morris Yuertzl-Bingle, Hebrew American Pothead.  He is analyzing the minutiae of ethnic weed smokers.  Comparative analysis is just puff away.

Wimpy/Gimpy Little Essay

 

In the world of folks, there’s two kinds of initiative:  balls-out and wimpy/gimpy.   Che Guavera was a balls-out influencer.   So was Fidel Castro, Chairman Mao, Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini and, …did I leave anyone out?    Fuck me for being remiss.   Truman Capote was a wimpy/gimpy influencer.  The magnificent and brilliant Tennessee Williams was as well.  The vast majority of great playwrights were a pussy.   Does that make one binary grouping better than the other?  Damn it, I’m balls-out, and I’m telling you fuck no, there is room on chunky Earth for both masses of wonderful attractive people, all exponential shitloads of them.  Thanks for reading.