My friend Fritz, Opus 4

When last met with my friend Fritz it was a somber occasion.  I recall thinking that it would be some time before I might see him again.  I do not know what instinct had told me this.  Perhaps it was only some dark intuition, the sort often associated with his comings and goings. As it happens this was incorrect. I was awakened in the dark of pre-dawn by that familiar voice.

Thomas?

Yes?

Your sleep is uneasy tonight.

Is it?

You prefer to listen to your music rendered on vinyl. Why is it that you do not prefer to write on paper?

Fritz and I have established a familiarity between us.  His oblique puzzles, though I may struggle to answer, do make sense to me.

I have not considered this Fritz. I actually do prefer to write upon paper.

I see. Is that because you are unable to communicate on vinyl?

HA! He left me an opening!

That is but one of many reasons Fritz.

You wish to speak of this no more?

I wish to speak of it no more today.

Very well.

He then remained silent for some time, though I knew our conversation was far from finished. We both enjoy the silence that we may better hear our inner voices. This is the space where Fritz and I commune.

This tropic choler of your nights do not suit my central European constitution Thomas.

I should have thought you would have grown used to it by now.

Perhaps I shall in time.  You carry a sadness Thomas. Something new, not your ordinary melancholy.

Indeed I do Fritz. It was not my wish to trouble you with it.

Na, was gibt’s?

Girl trouble.

He laughed.

At your age? Ach… it is that curse of masculinity. We are forever in some part that ever eager adolescent.

True enough, but this is not like that.

For an instant Fritz appeared genuinely surprised. That marks a rare occasion. He said nothing more, merely entreating me with his glowing, dark eyes to go on.

I have grown numb Fritz. I am the victim of an innocent, girlish infatuation. A child’s hero worship. This is the type of trusting love that should bring joy to the heart, if one is human. I am able to smile and play the part, yet I only feel fear and dread.

Dread of what Thomas?

He knew the answer, or would not have asked.

It is the dread of receiving this trust, knowing that ultimately I can only disappoint.

As is the burden of Man to receive God’s love. I wrestled with this all my mortal life Thomas.

Indeed you did. And what say you now Fritz?

You were a stranger to yourself for most of your life Thomas. What say you now?

He had me. The bastard had me! He would leave, with that question weighing in the air. I have been awake since.

 

Pferd

The horse was a peaceful creature

living free upon the plains

Until once they were subjected

to the bridle and the reins

When men had found them useful

to a purpose more malign

They were made unwitting players

to some sinister design

From Pizarro at Cajamarca

and many more since then

The horse employed as weapon

to enslave all lesser men

What could have been for many

instead advantaged only few

Living things or flying machines

for the evil that men do

They shoot horses, don’t they?

Yes, usually in the head,

but would that they should all grow thumbs

and they shoot man instead

 

 

These days are wrong

The calendar progresses

as the sun grows long

There remains the sense

that these days are wrong

White and fuchsia blossoms

burst forth into light

The lawn grows apace

yet something’s not right

The sun has been sparing

cloud and rain more the rule

Invisible winter that reaches

like some dreaded ghoul

This grey pallor that creeps

between each ray of light

sucks the life from our waking

by some phantom fright

Using statistical models

these tyrants masquerade

as some kind of saviors

to support their charade

We can see through you

there is no mistake

the more that we give you

the more you will take

We don’t fear this virus

and this much is true

Only one menace we face

and clearly it’s you

 

Wait… what? Vol. 62

The only “non-essential” workers are the worthless bags of shit you’ve been seeing on your TV screens for the past six weeks. What will they do when this is over? If there is a god they will all drop dead.

Asylum

The clean white sands of distant beach

A coveted shoreline

bathed in optimism

The hope that anything could be better

Or the sterile blandness

that only institutional grade paint can capture

Antiseptic perfume masks

the urine soaked safety

of supervised narcotic therapy

Poisons more palatable to state sanction

No more white sands await

No stadium could contain your madness

Asylum like an ocean

and no water to drink

 

Pandemic vs. Plandemic

InkedFord Wenty profile image_LI

A Doom and Reprisal editorial from Ford Wenty, Ale 81 Inn Field Correspondent

 

Well that is a bit of a provocative title, isn’t it?  I’m guessing that this is not the first time for many of you to have heard this topic framed in such a fashion.  I have stated previously in this forum that I do not subscribe to the “plan”demic suggestions, as tempting as some of these may be. There are already, and no doubt will continue to be, those who will cite various pieces of data to suggest and then support such theories.  I can admit to myself that some of these suggestions hold a degree of plausibility, yet I am still tethered to the notion that in most instances the simplest explanation of a thing tends to be the most logical.  Since all of the furor now surrounds not the virus, but the official response to it, the simplest explanation for where we now find ourselves is this. Where there is a permanent class in our public sectors, who have been continually rewarded for inefficiency and incompetence, the occurrence of ANY crisis will manifest it’s absolute worst side effects by their actions.

Stories have emerged this week which suggest that proof will be tendered to demonstrate that the Covid 19 virus did indeed originate from the virology studies laboratory in Wuhan. If true then that is indeed a splendid bit of news, though at this stage I’m not altogether certain what we’re to do with this information. If I might be so bold, I will paraphrase a source as unlikely as Hillary Clinton: at this point what difference does it make? While this revelation may be useful in garnering support for drastic changes in US policy towards China, it is of little use in addressing what is now the greater issue: domestic authorities trampling upon civil liberties.

There is no conspiracy to be uncovered here folks. What we are all witnessing now is the entirely predictable failure of our public institutions because they have long been infected with a virus much more insidious than Covid 19. It is the virus of institutional hubris. The most common symptoms are tone deafness, arrogance, refusal to accept personal responsibility and projection. All of these symptoms have been on display long before this.  In extreme cases this disease presents as a maniacal drive towards tyrannical control of the subject’s surroundings; a more recent development, but also on full display. Most of these people haven’t been challenged on anything in decades. Like a child who has always been given anything they desired, it is no surprise that they are triggered when any of their fiat should be denied. Sadly these people are convinced that not only is it their privilege to rule, it is our privilege to be ruled by them. Anything less than blind and fawning obedience is seen as being ungrateful, which apparently is now a crime which may subject one to house arrest. Or worse.

Now if Communist China should decide that there is somehow an advantage in taking down the United States through the use of some bioagent, they have a pretty good idea of our weakness. In response to the global spread of a virus, which contrary to all models seems to be little worse than the most aggressive strain of the annual flu, the US has panicked itself into a state of paralysis. Just imagine another virus, this one with  infection and mortality rates comparable to the infamous Spanish Influenza. Twenty-seven percent infection rate with a two percent mortality rate, multiplied by a national population of three-hundred-thirty million. That would be just over 89 million infected and 1,782,000 dead. Make that an airborne virus, transmittable by human to human contact, and one that ultimately kills by hemorrhoidal colic, and….?

It would be game over. We couldn’t even keep toilet paper on the shelves this time.

Wait… what? Vol. 61

Well folks, it’s been fifty years now and it’s official. Ohio Governors are STILL shitting upon the rights of the state’s citizens.  At least they haven’t shot anyone this time. Yet.

Oh well, the day is still young…