Thursday, March 27, 2014



BLURB BOOK 2012-2013


Thursday, March 6, 2014



Here's an update: The Catholic Church has blocked the opening of the "Pleasure Hospital" in Burkina Faso (former Upper Volta) in West Africa.  As I wrote before, The Raelian funded hospital, devoted to clitoral reconstruction, slated to open on Friday was suddenly canceled. The reason given was mounting pressure by the Catholic Church. Now, I'm not anti- any religion, but if I'm going to fight any church the Catholic Clergy is a worthy opponent. Replete with child sexual abuse and International banking scandals, the Vatican hierarchy is one of those organizations you love to hate. It makes a UFO cult, led by a French race car driver, in a white robe and big medalian (the symbol combines the swastika with the Star of David) obsessed with clitorises, seem downright warm and fuzzy.
     The Catholics are probably the largest and most powerful funding agent of all NGOs operating in the world. They have very deep pockets and admittedly do much good work. The recently minted Pope is a breath of fresh air after JP and Benny, but he's new on the job. There's centuries of anti-woman, anti-gay, anti-pleasure tradition in the church. Francis is only one man. Forget that the inner circle of heavy weights in Rome are Gay, they are, like J.Edgar Hoover, self-hating deniers. Church canon remains anti-homosexual. The "Elohim" would not be pleased at what their scientists created, although the hats and threads do look very alien. "A" for costuming. "F" for loving man and womankind.
    The Raelian NGO is called CLITORAID. As one person put it- "That's a sports drink I can get behind." After all my web searching I learned that CLITORAID is not embraced by all. Surprise. A SF feminist organization GOOD VIBRATIONS, withdrew their support of the organization citing the Adopt-A-Cltitoris program as the reason. They found it demeaning to African women. I know clitorises are sensitive....but Jeesh! Over the years I've symbolically adopted boys, girls, and even roads, so the chance to adopt a clitoris was definitely in my wheel house. Going to I discovered a lot of merch. Emblazoned with a non-offending yellow flower, the graphics look like a coffee cup my mom had in the 70's. And, of course, there was a button you could push to donate. What I couldn't find was how much it was to adopt my clitoris? Nor could I figure out what I got in return. Did you get a t-shirt, a mouse pad, a certificate of ownership? Without this being clarified, I resisted donating. I at least want my adopted clitoris thanking me for my support.
   As usual I don't know where my new interests will lead me. Maybe nowhere. I emailed Rael and haven't heard back yet. I think he would be a good speaker for the Rebel Flag Burning Church. UFOs, clitorises, moonshine, girls in skimpy outfits....seems to be right on theme. Meanwhile I'm making the place "alien-friendly". They have skinny little arms and thin skin (like the Catholics). I don't want them bumping into sharp corners. According to Rael, their fearless leader is "Yahweh". Could the Jews be the original aliens? It's all making sense. Maybe I should signal them from the shul? I think I have an old TV antenna around somewhere. How about adopting a foreskin?    

Tuesday, March 4, 2014



   I remember back in the 90's hearing about a French race car driver who had started a church in Canada devoted to the belief in UFOs and hot girls. You could see how this would catch my interest. There was a newspaper picture of their fearless leader, called Rael, with a little mustache and a top knot, in front of a flying saucer, surrounded by girls in white go-go boots and crop tops. I cut it out and pinned it to my kitchen wall, not thinking much more about it. Years went by.
   Last night I was trolling the TV, looking for something watchable, when i came across FIRE IN THE SKY. I'd seen it before and remembered it as being pretty good. It was a based on a book by Travis Walton, documenting his supposed abduction by aliens in 1975. It has some of the best (and scariest) scenes of alien abduction Hollywood has ever offered. Again, not thinking much more of it, I got up this morning, and after learning about Jennifer Lawrence not wearing underwear to an Oscar party, I made coffee, loaded the woodstove and turned on the radio. Forget the Ukraine. On Friday a hospital in Africa will open it's doors, devoted to clitoris reconstructive surgery. Who's running the joint? The Raelians. Damn.
    I wouldn't say I actually believe in UFOs or aliens, but neither do I not believe in them. Our church has a theology that is constantly evolving. That's a fancy way of saying that we have no idea what the fuck we are doing. To hold fast to this principal is crucial for me. It frees us up to pick and choose whatever may tickle our fancy- theologically speaking. What I do believe is in coincidences. The combo of last night's movie and today's BBC report on the Raelian hospital in Africa got my juices flowing. Here's what many (myself included) would consider a crackpot cult, with beliefs in space travel and human cloning, actually funding a modern hospital devoted exclusively to righting a heinous wrong visited on millions of girls worldwide. How can this not peek your interest?
   The USA hdqtrs. of the Raelian movement is in Las Vegas. Surprise. I've never been one for cults or gambling, but....... I lived through Jim Jones and The People's Temple in SF and interviewed my neighbor Jeannie Mills (a Temple whistle blower) who listed Scientology as the most dangerous cult around. She was then murdered, along with her husband and daughter. Nobody has ever been charged. So I tread carefully around these things. Yet, I have to say, the Raelians may be onto something. There's a big empty field across the road at RNButch's, perfect for a landing. Just saying. I don't know how far this blog reaches. But if anyone out there is listening.......welcome. I know you come in peace. My clitoris could use a little reconstruction.

Monday, March 3, 2014




Sarah Palin saw it coming (from her front yard in Alaska). Pussy Riot warned us. While our drones are blowing apart Grandmas teaching their grandkids in their Pakistan gardens, the mighty Bear has shown his teeth again. Less than a week after a bunch of protesters wearing pots for helmets, wielding old double barrel shotguns, drove out a corrupt government, Putin struck at the heart of Ukraine. The jewel of the Russian empire, the Crimea, was invaded over the weekend by masked, non-insignia wearing Russian troops. Would Kiev be next? Duck and cover kids. Here comes the Cold War- again.
    Last week, after a big dinner at the Indian Casino, Diamond Dave, Pigpen and I retired to the cigar lounge for a smoke and coffee, letting our rich food digest. Occupying three of the dark, overstuffed, leather chairs was a middle aged white couple and a tall man in uniform. I say uniform, but it was more like a flight suit. Had this guy landed his F-15 in the parking lot? Introductions followed and before you could say Jihad the Col. was telling a bad joke about a Cuban outside of the gates of Guantanamo, waving his big cigar in a cloud of smoke. DD had been to Guantanamo to sell jewelry and had never even seen a Cuban. I love Cuba and had been there twice. I tried to keep my mouth shut.....without much luck. Con-yo.....asshole.
     The conversation turned from Cuba to the Middle East. Among the three of us, only Pigpen had served in the military. He had once spray painted his Israeli barracks with a stencil that screamed FREE ASHER. So he wasn't exactly a poster child for the JDL. But when it comes to Arabs and Jews there wasn't much grey area in the room's conversation. The Col. was impressed. I usually get along with men and women in uniform. But this guy was a generalizing blowhard. All Arabs were blood sucking terrorists and all Cubans were jokes. The middle aged wife left as Pigpen did that tongue trilling thing, and ordered another drink. DD, the consummate diplomat, placated everyone. If I had a flag I would've burned it. Thankfully we were all too bloated by the heavy food, drink and smoke to get out of our plush overstuffed furniture to duke it out. If there had been an Indian anywhere in that casino the Col. would've tried to justify Wounded Knee to him. "It was for your own good chief. Look how rich you are now.  Things turned out pretty well, didn't they? Hit me again. 21! USA. USA."