Amma, back to the Bay Diarreah; and what is Venus doing, looking like a speck of pepper

OMG, I am going blind and cannot type...shit fuck my hole then your hole and slap my ass hard so I can bite it harder.

Now, when I was a baby, I had colitis; I cried all the time, because my stomach hurt.  Being the typical American she was, my mother hated me.  How dare I ruin her life.  Being the typical European snob, my father hated her.  I asked him many times when I was a teenager why he married this black Irish, flat-chested, ignorant woman.

My father would always answer that men have to feel comfortable with a woman in order to be with her, to live with her, to ride on vacations to Tahoe (for the lower classes) with the Giants' game blasting on the radio so he wouldn't have to talk to her.  He and I at least had something--no, actually more things as I think of them--in common: we both hated her,

But, then, step in my brother: skinny, and that's all I remember, because I couldn't stand him either.  When he stuck his hand in my cunt when we were at my aunt's for dinner, I really just wanted to have sex.  I couldn't stand him, but I wanted to have sex.  He, of course, was in constant denial of his preference for she-males, i.e., girls who talked like boys and had no boobs.

Meanwhile, I saw Amma today and tonight, and she has no idea what kind of person I am.  I'm a very good actor.  My art teachers used to tell me that I should continue in art (painting, blah, blah, etc), but my best painting teacher from the San Francisco Art Institute, yes, the place where you can buy your way into being a "fine artist," asked me if I were an 'entertainer.'  Now, I wasn't going to ask him what he meant by that; he was an old guy, and it could mean that I looked like I wanted to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.

So, five million light years, a 20-foot high hill of crushed beer and Bailey's containers, and a shoe box of chiva later, I have a show.  Actually, I was on television as a child, and I got one of my haikus published in some suburban newspaper.  In 2000, I was invited by Bro Jud Presmont, my surrogate father and mentor, to play whacked-out guitar and sing on his public access show, Bro Jud on Love Energy.  This girl Lori was there with her two daughters who were so sweet.  Of course they thought it was cool that another female was going to play guitar and sing.  I should have had them sing with me, now that I've had some time to think about it!?!

In any case, I came on Jud's show regularly around 2003 until 2009 when he died.  Don't think I am a heartless, wicked faerie who has no heart.  Oh NO.  I miss Jud every day and night.  He always had my back, and all the people I know who have made fun of him for being older are stupid pieces of worthless shit.  Not everyone can be intelligent, and how well I know given the parents I chose and family and friends and my karma.  In the United States of Amuriika it doesn't pay to be intelligent, to be  an abstract thinker, unless you are able to decipher derivatives and speak audibly and with potential communicative value in a language from another planet.

Nevertheless, I was going to talk about Amma, and plug the faerie antithesis to Fecesbook.  It is called International Kirtan.com.  It is a marvelous creation.  It was created by a young American woman named Eve.  She lives around here.  Look it up.  Join if you think you have something conscious to share besides what your last dose of hair growth potion for the bald has done for you.

I shall return to Amma.  She deserves all the praise she gets.  When she walked out of the ashram tonight, some little kid whose parents were born in India, said, "Good night, Mommie."  There you have it.  You, too, like me, motherless, can have a mother.  Now what that means to you will be discussed sooner than later.

The night before my birthday, or how talking about political things makes one less popular than usual

My elder cousins called me for my birthday which I thought they knew was tomorrow. Oh well, we only grew up together. Every Saturday night my brother, father and I would have to go to my mother's sister's house for dinner. My aunt would, after serving mashed potatoes (of course, and I loved all the potato variety of dishes I had while in Scotland) and some sort of meat, and after having consumed about 5 "high balls"--drinking glasses full of ice cubes, whiskey or gin and some other substance, commence deriding someone sitting at the dinner table. Since I always kept my mouth tightly shut, I was not often a direct victim of these derisions. And, unfortunately, even though one of my two cousins would keep their mouths shut, one of them would become a target of their mother's hallucinations. It was too bad, really, that she so often had these really bad trips, one could say. Maybe, if she were given some peyote or mushrooms and let loose in the wild, she might find that staring up at the sky would be calming instead of infuriating.

Of course, I digress. I think I was talking about my cousins having called me today. We are all so much older now than we were then...kind of. The elder of the two, a natural red head, has remained the one with the most psychiatric need yet channels it into severe self-absorption. Her sister, one of two natural blondes in the family at large, has worked as a nurse for a very long time. In fact, she is the one who called me today. I have always preferred her company over her sister's, but since we are closer in age (only 5 years difference) and with the most experience with men, we tend to get competitive and insecure if one of us has a boyfriend and the other doesn't. I have noticed that when we both have boyfriends, and even if mine were somewhat scurrulous, there would be much less insecurity between us.

It's weird. I was really letting some anger out today and saying some very unpopular words for a polite person when speaking with Jeannie, the sexy, blonde should-have-been starlet who has worked as a nurse, giving people shots, sticking thermometers up their butts, and so forth. Her sister talks about herself, and if I were to say, "Oh, you almost fucking died from anemia this year," her response would be unpredictable. She admitted that she wished her 17-year-old cat would die. Pathetic, kind of...

And then there's the getting older part. Both of them still talk like they did when they were in high school. Somehow my voice and inflections are different. Patty, the elder one, said she thought she was getting old. I wonder if anyone remembers a stamp that the U.S. put out in the early eighties. It had a sepia line drawing of two elders and a baby. It had the caption "Aging Together." It used to crack me up....how existential.

Meanwhile, that was my connection to family for my birthday and for "the holidays." I went to a meditation/talk at the Shambhala Meditation Center in San Francisco on Wednesday night. The talks given here are very sophisticated and intellectual, especially the ones given by a pretty woman in her late fifties whose name I can't remember. Their are only three people that I have met there whose names I recall: Peter, Seth, and Yolanda. Of course, the woman is the most like me than the men. Peter used to work as a huge businessman in New York and owned a place in the West Village, and Seth I don't know about but I like his name. Yolanda is around my age, Latina and pretty. But she always looks sad. But I am afraid to ask why. In fact, I'm afraid to talk to many of the people there. But during the talk we are usually supposed to get into groups. We were to talk about what "wisdom tradition" we grew up under and what we feel about this other name for religion...kind of. The woman spoke about being brought up under Judaism and all she got out of it was that we should treat others the way we want to be treated. All I could think about was the picture on a poster I got at anti-war rally of a 9-year-old Palestinian boy with piss stains running down his pants surrounded by 4 Israeli soldiers, fully-armed, fully-grown men. The man in our group was from Iran and talked about how his father wasn't into Islam but his mother was so he tried to show some interest in it but was the least concerned about having to have his own 'wisdom tradition.' I spoke about my father being Catholic in a non-Catholic country and how I've embraced Hinduism and love all the gods and think about one of them every day and try to fit into Shambhala's wisdom tradition. The Virgen de Guadalupe is still an image I hold onto.

So, the very next day I had lunch with someone who comes from a completely other wisdom tradition than all these other people. We decided it was time for me to take down alot of my Hindu stuff...kind of, and not all of it. Then, I thought, I should get over my fear of having the least bit of awareness of Islam. I have two hijabs from Maroc and one from Egypt, thanks to my fwb of the past five years, Rene from Mexico City. He was always travelling. At least he brought me back some beautiful stuff, and even though sex and my undivided attention were all he ever wanted from me, I won't forget him. I just can't call him now if I need something...

I have been on my own now since September. Monday I got an iPhone for cheap (it's a 3G). Although I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't give someone whose parents came from India any bit of my attention (save this one for another time), I was chatting on OK Cupid with a guy who is part Indian and told me of one of the best Indian restaurants in the city (it's in the TL). We were then on our cellphones texting until I wrote that OK Cupid says it's OK to drink but that what most of us in my neighborhood (upper Haight) call medicine is called a 'drug.' He laughed. Then I wrote, "At least OK Cupid doesn't ask about my politics anymore." Then the guy stopped writing to me.

Planet Glee has become much more political. Last night I had the wonderous opportunity to hang out with an important filmmaker from Pakistan. I intend to work with this man on a doc...Someone we know who is from Belgium is almost finished with his doc on a similar topic. I wonder who will be less popular given the poppolitics of their work.

Why I can't write right now, or edit, or play guitar or finish DEATH ON THE INSTALLMENT PLAN

I feel like Frida Kahlo, no I don't know who feels like I do at this moment. Having a physical injury with pain, anxiety (will the pain stop--or, why can't I concentrate....) and wanting to do physical things are very antithetical things.

Unless one thinks of pilates or yoga, two breathing-method-based forms of core, 3rd chakra physical movement. Yesterday I had traction. It feels really good to be pulled out of pain and asked to keep the neck and head tucked in in ways that are unnatural to the person who got the pain there in the first place.

Nonetheless and what-then, I have not been able to do any video editing for 8 months. It's not that I love editing, but I do like to do it the way I do it and one day I will do it the way I want to do it and revolutionize cinematic narration.

And THEN, I'm talking a sound class for cinema class, and I want to play my guitar for some tracks. Who knows, maybe guitar-playing will make me feel less stuck in my body.

I just then had a negative thought. Om tare tu tare to re so ha

Frightwig - I want to live

End of the internet, international communication?

Could this be true? Egypt's government cut the communication cable for its citizens and visitors?

What would it mean for us not to be able to "speak" to each other this way? How would I miss being able to touch on any subject (almost) with someone far away from me or even a few floors away?

Getting our feelings and thoughts expressed takes many forms: painting, sculpture, music, the way we breathe, the words we choose to use when we write, the way we sing, what we like to read, haiku.

Red hello from me

When I couldn't be blessed

Since pebbles kissed

GUTWORM-SCRAPE THE BLOOD

Clean Up Woman - Betty Wright (1971)

Waste Land Festival Trailer.mov

planetglee_part3_fabianfox2.flv

This is a letter I sent to a very good f riend of mine. So far the "holidays" have sucked for me.

It's good to know you'll be back in Europe again. Great stuff that you're studying for. I have been teaching at the same school for over 13 years and I am very tired of it!!! There are alot of political things going on with the teacher whose SPED room is next to mine--without a proper wall (it's one of those sliding walls.. Anyway, this new teacher is trying to get everything she can from anybody, including me. It's quite distressing, but I stand my ground.

I've been supra-stressed. This birthday for me was so pathetic compared to last year's. I had no one to spend my birthday with in the evening, but my friend who owns the Thai/Indian store invited me over for dinner with her husband.

Last night I made t he mistake (for the billionth and beyond) time of going out to dinner with a woman I know from Burma who when she is put in a situation where a friend has an interest in flirting with the waiter that she makes sure he only looks at her. She is about 4 or 5 years older than me, but her skin in perfect. She wouldn't admit that she was trying to get all the attention she could. And I knew that this guy is new here and was trying to show me that he wasn't into getting to know me anymore. What is distressing is that this woman couldn't have said, "sorry, I took advantage of the situation..." don't be upset with me... Instead, she leaves a message for me saying she can't go out tonight (as if I would want to) because she has to do something else but that I should "try to relax," "be happy." How mindlessly cruel.

It's great that you're studying psychology...it's kind of maddening for me in dealing with people I know have the "me, me, me and then me again" pathology!!!

Thanks for helping me laugh at this. I'm on vacation!!! This week will be better!!!

Shed any psychological insight you can or want to!!

The Warfield, The Cult and The Immigrant Song

I am getting disgusted. Craig Ferguson is talking about his birth culture on american television, trying to be sexy or something. What makes it funny is that he is wearing a french/italian, humongous, cookie monster chef's hat. It is the day before thanksgiving. I hope not as many turkeys are killed this year...truthahn, in german. Thanksgiving is gross and incessant...let's go down to the the reservation.

It will be really awesome to be able to drown my skull in music. Tonight I went out to the Warfield where I saw The Wiz and Run DMC and The Red Hot Chili Peppers in the late eighties. It was weird seeing "Jason Bonham's Led Zeppeling Tribute Band" tonight. They didn't play any of the songs from Led Zeppelin III. I looked up "Gallows Pole" on youtube, and it is actually Lead Belly song. And then I looked at Odette's version and her very different guitar.

THEN, bored and vegan, I was looking at Facebook and saw a posting for a show for The Cult in England. I love them so much. I saw them at the Warfield. I was so involved that I didn't look at the mural of the angels on the arch of the upper level seating. When they came out, I really wanted to see them and I still do.

And, why didn't I get to hear "The Immigrant Song."

The Cult - Wildflower - BBC Broadcast 1987

OMG, Veteran's Day, piercings and meditation

I used to never like Veteran's Day--too depressing. Every radio or television show would recount some historical event for veterans in war...what a downer!!! My deceased and beloved friend, Bro Jud Presmont (look him up on Wikipedia) was a veteran. He told everyone that he had been diagnosed with PTSD and paranoid schizophrenia. I don't remember his ever having taken anti-psychotic medications, though. Apparently it really manifested itself when Jud was at Bellevue Hospital in NYC for "delusions of grandeur." He had declared himself the founder of a new religion. This religion had as its centerpiece an African woman who jumps out of a comic strip. Her name is Kerista.

All the time I knew Jud I never really understood Kerista fully. He had many pieces of artwork and writings on the subject. Perhaps there should be a Keristan Museum somewhere, either in New York City or San Francisco. That would be cool.

Meanwhile, all the day was spent in dreamland for me. I did wake up early--around noon. But the weather was so dreamy and I didn't want to care about anything. SO, I went to Braindrops and tried out a new piercing. That's what I do when I'm feeling like having some physical sensation without getting injured.

Tonight I had a meditation class...psychic meditation. I think this time the meditation-- and all I'm working on it--will change my life. This sounds horribly corny, and I can't believe I'm writing it.

Nico - These Days

Missing Joaquin Tonight, Diwalii and what about the bathroom

My cat's name is Joaquin. He is not specifically named after the famous actor...the one from QUILLS and latest film which I reviewed back when it came out in theatres. The one in which Joaquin P. is trying to portray a person with bipolar disorder. From his performance in that film one does not get the impression that the character's bipolar disorder really affects his relationships. We see others around him getting turned off or whatever, but JP's character doesn't really seem like a person of greatly differing moods.

In I'M STILL HERE, this actor is followed around by a camera that takes him through his public life as a-Hollywood actor, someone with some dreads in the back and some long unruly beard. Actually one gets the feeling that they're looking at the old guy in the Dora cartoons. I wanted to see this documentary tonight, but I'm lazy and have to clean the bathroom. I have some videotape to go through from the Day of the Dead procession. It came out too dark, but I think I'm going to have fun painting it in light values later.

I'm so damned bored. DOes this mean I'm damned angry? Maybe. I don't want to clean the bathroom...I should post a picture of it here. There are so many containers of skin care products that I've tried...all boring. My cd player isn't working. I bought some oil at Rainbow called

Amma, the ashram, dancing, astrology, morrissey, diego luna

OMG! Today I woke up feeling very loving. I love to look at trees, and I got to see the ones in the back of the house a half-mile away for the first time in a week. Joaquin came and looked over the comforters at me. He stayed and we loved each other until I wanted to get up. The most loving thing to do for me is to drive 50 miles from San Francisco to Amma's ashram. Tonight was the last celebration of the Hindu goddesses, the main ones. There was South Indian dancing afterward which I really tripped on. The rhythm of this dancing is a slight bit like bhangra...duh.

Anyway, I'm tired and I wanted to wonder how diego luna is on my twitter? I discovered this after thinking about what little Sadasiva, a Vedic astrologer here in San francisco, whom I gave a ride home to after the ashram. was saying about astrology. He wasn't even discussing the incredible moon or something I said about mercury. And, of course, the underground discussion going on on another plane, about Scorpio and Venus.

Then I came home and turned on The Smith's Meat is Murder, burned some flower candles to the goddesses and browsed the net. Somehow a group about Glee News is now one of my followers. What is that show about? I can't deal with Fox at all...mindless mind-warping.

Outside Lands, outside galaxies, inside the bathroom...

There are two concerts going on this weekend, with tons of musicians and trees and outside, hence the name Outside Lands...I guess! Needless to say, I wanted to go this year. I always love to see Social Distortion, I have never seen Cat Power, Al Green, or a billion others of the bands. I've seen Furthur, and all the fog would make the bands more green-gray in the night.

With Saturn still in the house of my moon in Virgo, the fog makes me very what-I-don't-know-but-wish-I-did and all that. Men love to make fun of women. 'And if the day came when I felt a natural emotion..." (I'm listening to The Smiths.) Sarcasm kills all love.

Had the opportunity to watch a most manly movie full of sarcasm toward women called THE HOT TUB TIME MACHINE or something like that. When my friend asked me if I wanted to watch a couple of other films I chose the dumbest one and then thought, I think I want to be in a hot tub right now. It has been freezing here in San Francisco for so many days. We are lucky that is all we have to complain about. My main complaint about this film was that the bathroom was a spectator spot and that even puking wasn't funny.

Flaming Lips & Cat Power- War Pigs (Cover)

New Planet Glees and returning to waking early

This summer has been very bizaare for me. Oh well, and then what will happen next? For the moment the new Planet Glees that are being posted to youtube for the first time is the most exciting thing happening for me right now. Tomorrow I have to get up at 7 a.m. I got up around that time yesterday and the day before. Yes, I work an early morning, full-time job. I'm so bored with my "day job"--how can this be? In this case, dollars come into play. I don't get paid to do Planet Glee, but I do get paid to do a service. To do the service, I need to be pretty creative. I hope the lack of sleep doesn't get to me too soon!!!

Planet Glee SF