i’ve been stuck on the news cycle.
to take that breath, i am sitting and starting with something i hadn’t done in a while -
i go back to my memory glossary to remind me. i forgot what it’s supposed to be reminding me of, but that’s ok. it’ll come to me eventually.

19. – Memory – A learner’s ability to save something (mentally) that he or she has previously learned, or the mental “location” where such information is saved.
My memory allows me to access all sorts of stuff from my sputtering hard drive, whether it be good or bad, love or hate or anything in between and offers me the opportunity to edit, alter, acknowledge or deny the contents thereof.
there, i used it in a sentence and i’m pretty sure i’ll have to alter or add to it for the rest of my life.
i’m a learner, or at least i’ve become one.

an aside;
my french saturday –
i awoke and walked maxx this rainy saturday. as we walked on lawton street, maxx’s principal toileting area, a man and woman were discussing something in a foreign language. i would have bet a dollar to a donut it was the french language. they crossed my path and headed into the new building my neighbor, george, had been building this past year or so.
it’s got 41 apartments in it. just a point of information
i heading back after doing maxx’s business, we crossed broadway to say hello to jerome, owner of the athom french bakery, where we get our carrot cake, pastries and pretty soon, our poundcakes. i ordered my breakfast, then ran back to my house. we – maxx and myself – were plenty rained on, but that was ok.
i checked my myspace inbox and got a request from a band known as DaD to play here on september 15th. they, too, are from france. i booked them for ten o’clock.
i ran downstairs to collect my french breakfast, ran into my store to get my french-roast coffee (it’s what we use) and went upstairs for my bacon and brie omelette.
i read a wonderful “comment” about “the tragedy of the american white guy,” something i went on about here a few days back.
the author of the comment was french and a very dear friend of mine.
“lucky me!” i noted to myself.
i wrote a long reply to her.
we write these types of thing to each other because we are writers. i hear her voice, clear as a bell, and she says that she hears mine and i think that’s just great.
i went to my g-mail account, where there was a note from a musical couple who was our first act from europe in GBM’s first year of existence. they are known as the winter family and i hadn’t heard from them in about two years.
they played here twice and were brilliant.
in this note, they told me that they just had a child (their second) and were asking me about moving to brooklyn and prospects for work in the city and in the area in the coming year.
they will be coming here next spring from france.
hours went by.
the evening, along with some fresh rain descended and reginald appeared. he sat next to me and unwrapped a brown bag, the trademark of our french baker from across the street.
“whatcha having?” i asked.
“salmon and…ohhh, there’s cheese in this. i asked for no cheese..” he said, and he began to explain how he stopped eating cheese…causing me to seize my second brie opportunity, this time on a baguette with avocado and smoked salmon.
oy oui!

i’ve had to break the cycle of the news; the cruel, hopeful, horrible news coming out of iran and my relentless attention to it. i got away from it since last night but was reminded of the world we live in when alana came to visit today.
more about that…….

there’s lots of bad stuff going on in america concerning white guys. it seems white guys are pissed off at just about everything.
about white guys;
what is a white guy?
i always figured i was a white guy, but to other white guys historically, i might not be considered a white guy.
be prepared.
i’m going to say “white guy” a lot.
if you think you’re a white guy, think again.
if you’re mediterranean, you’re not a white guy.
that means most of the roman empire loses their “white” ticket.
so, middle and northern europe gets the nod along with hyper almost-white guys who feel they got their props from hanging out weathering the abuse of the long-standing white guys who would heap shit on them until they were needed.
this is where we get to the fraternity of white guys, if you know what i mean. and the racial “hazing” process is what formed the tragic american white guy.
to wit;
the old white guys and their minions.
a twisted sense of racial purity that every race trots out when they make that genocide leap.
deelicious!

if you’re irish, you’re not a white guy.
you might think you’re a white guy.
a lot of people who think they’re white guys wanted to get accepted by the whiter, white guys who wouldn’t give them the time of day till they were damned ready to and would or could revoke their “white guy status” whenever they damned-well-pleased. this is a sign of white-guy power.
(see the religious right.
there’s little difference between this behavior and the way studio 54 became famous. the more you turn the crowd away, the more they want in.
sometimes it’s because of fashion.
sometimes it’s because of being the flavor of the year.
scrap bar was the flavor for three years, i reckon. maybe four.
but we weren’t like studio 54. we weren’t discriminatory in our door policy. everyone got in.
i would never even “bar” people.
i would offer them vacations…..
which means i’m digressing, something i always do.

in america, when people were dying to get in during the 19th and early 20th century, the doormen (i guess i’ll be likening the united states of america with studio 54, and i’ll apologize in advance for this) were a bunch of white guys (we’ll call this the government). they worked for the owners who were more white guys (we’ll call this the population).
this is what we call a “lock.”
and as anyone who ever went anywhere that had doormen, there would always be a douchebag bouncer or two.
this is the type of historical white guy i’m talking about.
this is the white guy that other white guys at the door would say, “cool it ed, let them in,” and he’d say “fuck these people,”
and angrily push them in the door and later in the night, he’d start shit with them when he’d be walking through the club, the club being america.
this white guy douchebag bouncer is the microcosm of the america i’m talking about and it’s the bullying behavior by the likes of these people that remind me why this planet will be fine without us and it’s because of the likes of crazy white people, whether they’re the bouncers or the anonymous moneymen behind it, from the beginning when everyone was a white guy except for the imported blacks and the women who didn’t count anyway. (that’s not my opinion. thems the facts.)
you getting all this down, jaxsin?
this is like trying to speak from the widest part of the pyramid and explain how it got that way.
i’m bad at geometry, worse at trig and my sense of logic is tragic.

so we have people here in club america who wonder “who let them in,” – them being anyone other than themselves – and that sense of white entitlement was the world over till the early 20th century when the gilt was off the rose, the dam had it’s cracks, the houses of cards began to fall; the civilized were slowly being routed by the heathens, the rat eaters, the animals, the pagans.
people wanted their countries and cultures back.
in america, aunt jemimah was becoming bessie smith and she was getting ornery with her own money and a hip flask.
not everyone would play the stereotypes that hollywood would sell. but it would be a slow and arduous process.
club america continued to grow more and more popular and the regulars, whether they were bouncers or the regular crowd were feeling real good about themselves for years and years.
now, i liken america to a bar.
bars are a petri dish of our culture. it’s a culture of our culture.
besides, at the moment, it’s the best i can come up with.
i thought of using a church, but those places offer only a momentary ideal of what the world is and it’s just not that way.
there’s a lot more going on under the sunday finery, if you get me meaning. there’s a lot more going on under the minister’s frock, oh jeeesus! what happens between “the word” and what man does with it is….astounding.
bars and clubs are churches on drugs.
their gods are as valid as anyone else’s, more or less.
we live in a world where everone is right. especially the “right.”

i remember when opening scrap bar, the first settlers marked their territory. it happens in bars and countries pretty-much the same way. there would continually be pissing contests by people there to stake their claim, just like america did as it was hitting its stride economically and militarily in the 1800’s.
the white guys would kick all kinds of ass as they expanded across the country. not only would they kill anyone who moved in their way, they even killed each other because life was as cheap as land but some people couldn’t ever have enough land or the stuff on it or in it to make them happy and those white guys had other white guys who helped them get rid of whoever was in their way. most of those guys were red.
ask the red guys what happened when the white guys showed up and just kept coming.

now just imagine after hundreds of years of that going on all over the world, not just america, and generations upon generations being taught about racial superiority and the gradual erosion of this.

the twentieth century world wars and up to the 1950’s was the american white guy heydey, and second tier whites were feeling safe in acceptance by their old, white overlords.
their common dislike for blacks and semites, as well as the coming onslaught of “foreigners” (that’s funny as hell) kept them cozy, but the storm was coming.
the storm was silent and insidious.
the storm was time and education.
people stuck in time couldn’t get that around their heads and that’s why they were unprepared for the presidency that happened. that’s how a black person became president.
educated, less racist newer generations as well as white and less-than-white guys and girls, many who waver from one candidate to the next.
since last november 4th, the panic began to set in.
surprise surprise.
i don’t doubt that there are american conservatives who mean well, politically. i don’t doubt that there used to be a republican party. but that’s not what’s going on.
the democrats are stuck in a moral conundrum.
if you combat the republicans on their own terms, you become just like them. it’s like that batman movie.
the racist bullies who hide under religion and family values are polishing their weapons.
it’s the only way they see fit to rescue their illusion of what america is.
sane people lose an election and say “aww, fuck.”
crazy white guys say,”fuck this,” and take bad and evil action.
they been doing it for years.
i’ll leave it at that.

BRICcommunityTV’s Neighborhood Beat: Bushwick –
a great show that features the art, culture and commerce. Hit the link; we’re on the TV box in brooklyn cable land.

The current air mag located in the pocket next to the barf bag on British Airways flights.
pip pip!