Monday, August 31, 2026
You’re STILL Wrong
or
Mykel's
OCT
2026 Blog/Column
by Mykel Board
ALL YOU NEED IS HATE
If there’s one kind of speech that needs constitutional protection, it’s hate speech. Who else is going to protect it?
--Jim Goad
The claim "hate speech is not free speech" implies "free" is a type of speech, as opposed to how speech is treated in a free society.
-- Michael Malice
The concept of “microaggression” is just one of many tactics used to stifle differences of opinion by declaring some opinions to be “hate speech,” instead of debating those differences in a marketplace of ideas. To accuse people of aggression for not marching in lockstep with political correctness is to set the stage for justifying real aggression against them.
- Thomas Sowell
Calling something "hate speech" is nothing more than another totalitarian attempt to subjugate free speech.
-- Colin M. McGroarty
It’s 2:30 in the afternoon. I have an appointment at the dentist... some kind of molar problem… whenever I bite down my jaw responds with a pain like a kick in the balls. Luckily, I don’t have far to go. From home… ten minutes to Washington Square Park... diagonal walk along the park path to the West Side… three minutes from there to the dentist’s office.
I’m off. In the elevator to the street the pain starts on its own. No need to bite. It’s just there… and getting worse. I wind my way through the new NYU students looking at their phones… snapping pictures of each other. Ah, there’s the entrance to the park… straight line from the Southeast corner, past the (non-working) central fountain… up to the Northwest corner.
Pow! I’m in the park. There’sthe Garibaldi statue… (“Mickey,” I remember my father telling me when I still had my baby teeth. “That statue is famous. It turns its head whenever a virgin passes.” My mother laughed. I didn’t get it.)… Up to the path… a bunch of girls… clearly part of the new NYU future meat market... block the entire path... taking turns photographing each other. From one side to the other… sometimes one-by--one… sometimes a camera sitting on a trashcan edge… set on remote. There’s no way to pass them. I hate them.
I feel an anger grow inside me… I glare at them… “What’s your problem mister?” asks one of the girls.
“My problem?” I say. “I’ll show you my fuckin’ problem!”
I grab the phone off the wastebin and slam it onto the ground. One of the girls screams. I step on the phone... grinding it under the heel of my sneaker… listening to the crunch of glass and electronics. More of the girls scream, then scatter. I walk to the corner and then half a block to the dentist’s.
THE NEXT DAY: First I gotta tell ya… I hate people who ride their bikes on the sidewalk. Mostly delivery guys… mostly riding the opposite way of street traffic… and it’s not only pedal bikes, but E-bikes. F-you E-bikes!!!
It’s cloudy today. Heavy rain in the forecast. I carry a heavy black umbrella… handle like a samurai sword. Walking on the sidewalk… south. All vehicular traffic goes south on this part of Broadway. I’m headed toward my favorite halal food truck. Lamb gyro… mmmm boy! When I get to Houston Street, an asshole bike rider… on the sidewalk, of course… turns from Houston onto Broadway. Missing me by an inch or so.
In a fencing move that would make Errol Flynn proud, I raise my left hand above my head and stick my umbrella into the spokes of the bike rider. CRAAAAACK! I can’t tell if it’s the sound of the umbrella or the bike wheel. In any case, the bike stops… the rider doesn’t. He flies over the handlebars… CHUWOP! Landing ass-first on the front wheel… bouncing off… falling in front of the still-moving bike. Hitting the sidewalk with his head… There’s a bloody splash. It brings a smile to my face.
FLASH AHEAD A FEW DAYS: New fitness tracker watch… getting a workout today. 10,000 steps… That’s a hundred short blocks… 20 long ones. I keep this 10,000 step goal in mind and on my watch. It’s late, so I have to hurry. After midnight the watch resets. I like the night… the cooler air… the quieter streets.
I’ve been working on stickers. I get lots in the mail, but lately they haven’t been peelable. The outlines don’t match the sticker cuts… sometimes there’s no sticker cuts at all. For some reason, I often need one of those retracting razor knives… I have one hanging from a screw in every room. The kitchen one gets the most work… but tonight it’s the bedroom/livingroom one... cutting stickers. I look up. See the clock. It says 10:40. That means it’s 10 o’clock. Time to leave for my walk.
[NOTE: All the clocks in my apartment are set 40 minutes fast. The average time for a subway ride… including wait time… is around half an hour. Then, there’s walking from the stop to wherever I’m going. Setting the clocks ahead enables me to teleport. I have to be somewhere at noon… I leave at noon… I’m on time.]
Without thinking, I slip the razor knife into my back pocket and put on my We Have Come For Your Children T-shirt. (At home, I never wear a shirt.) I take the elevator downstairs and go out onto the street. I walk all the way to the end of Bleecker Street and cross over to where CBGBs used to be. Then I head up The Bowery to Joey Ramone Place (aka Second Street) and turn right. The sidewalk is pretty empty, though there is a guy standing in a doorway, lighting a cigarette. As I pass him, he laughs.
“That’s some t-shirt,” he says. “I guess I’m lucky I don’t have children.”
He laughs again, steps off the stoop and intentionally walks in front of me. I try to pass him, but he keeps shifting to the right and left to slow me down. The fucker! I hate the guy. A sudden breeze stirs up the dust and pollen from the street. I can feel my nose drip. I reach into my back pocket for my kerchief and find the razorblade knife. I hold it in my right hand.
Yes! Just the two of us on an empty dark street. Yes! Yes! Yes!
Sliding the blade to USE position, I hold the knife in my right hand. I tiptoe up close to the guy in front of me and kick out my right leg. BE-KANG! BE-KANG! I dance the leg into the back of his knees. Down he goes. Barely catching himself against the sidewalk. BALOO-EY, I’m on top of him, forcing him down… chest touching the sidewalk. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
Using the V of my right arm. I bend his head up, stretching his neck. I got ‘im now! I slide the knife across his neck. Ear-to-ear. That should make him kosher.
“Okay buckaroo, you want to smile at the Dead Boys? I’ll give you a full neck smile. Laugh out your adam’s apple, asshole! Welcome to the real Dead Boys!
I watch the shadow of blood trickle from his open neck down my hand and arm. A puddle forms on the sidewalk.
SHIT, here comes Literary Device… just as things are getting good.
“Okay, Mykel,” she says. “It’s time you cut the crap and get to the point. Everyone who’s ever read you knows that killing/accident-creating crap you wrote is bullshit… and probably the smashed phone is bullshit too. What’s the point?”
“You’re the literate one.” I answer. “You gotta explain the difference between fiction and non. I don’t. YOU have to be there whenever I do anything incredible and then tell the readers not to cred it.”
“I’m doing it for a reason,” I continue. “I got a point to prove.”
“And
what’s the point?” she asks. “I figure it’s got something to
do with hate.”
“Yes,”
I yell at her. “It’s got EVERYTHING to do with hate. And if you
were something more than a literary device I’d throw you into the
meat grinder too!”
She laughs. But she has a point…
and needs an explanation. So do you.
Maybe you could guess from the quotes and the title of this post. Yes, I’m writing about hate. But first let’s make sure we know what it is.
The
dictionary says HATE is:
intransitive
verb
To
feel strong dislike for or hostility toward
EXAMPLE:
"rivals
who hate each other."
To
feel dislike or distaste for.
EXAMPLE:
"hates washing dishes; hates to get up early."
The key words here… at least for me to make my point... are TO FEEL. Hate is a feeling. It is not an action (although it may precede action). The fictional actions I used at the beginning of this blog are NOT hate. They were caused by the (fictional) hate I felt but they were not the hate itself.
Get it? Hate speech is an oxymoron… like loud smell. Hate is a feeling… not an action… even if that action is making words. My examples were (fictional) actions (not) caused by feelings of hate. I really do hate sidewalk bicycles, deliberately slow walkers and masses of selfie-takers on sidewalks. But I don’t take violent action on that hatred.
Hate speech is SPEECH. It may be uncomfortable… but that doesn’t mean it should be prohibited. It is only SPEECH.
Can you imagine if ALL uncomfortable kinds of speech were prohibited? Let’s see:
My mom died yesterday. I’m so sad. She was so important in my life….
Grief speech!!!! A week in jail! You know how bad that makes OTHER people feel? Keep your grief to yourself. Who knows whose eyes you’ll bring tears to? Stop grief speech before it spreads!
Loneliness speech!!! The isolation! Can you get more depressing than I have no friends… No one loves me... or even thinks about me?
If
you FEEL lonely, don’t spread the feeling to those few around you.
Suck it up. You know how awful loneliness makes others feel? Stop it!
If you don’t stop it, we’ll turn your loneliness into
claustrophobia. Make friends with the person in the next prison cell…
THAT’LL solve the problem. Your loneliness is YOUR problem. The
world shouldn’t have to suffer by you talking about it.
Get
it? Grief
speech, loneliness speech, hate
speech
are
only speech.
And one of the few great things about the US is its commitment to
Free Speech.
Yeah, I know you can’t shout fire
in a crowded theater… unless you believe there is really a fire.
And that means you CAN shout FIRE… especially if you see some
burning curtains. As the Trump administration attempts to censor
late-night TV hosts for their speech, it’s important that we keep
up the fight against censorship. That we allow people to talk about
anything they FEEL. And hate
is
exactly that: a feeling.
We can censor ACTIONS ...like sticking an umbrella into bicycle spokes... but feelings and verbal expressions of those feelings should NOT be censored.
Yes, there are borderline cases. The world would be better if Y were dead…. is different from You should kill Y. Both of those are different from handing someone a machine gun and saying go out and kill Y. There are no easy answers… but we should, at least, have the freedom to talk about it.
See
you in hell,
Mykel Board
ENDNOTES:
[You can contact me on facebook or by email at mykelboard@gmail.com.
Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music
or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137,
New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified
when anything new is available. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE TO
THE BLOG in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at
https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com]
→ FULL OF SHIT DEPT: "So this is an interesting case, she thinks the neighbor is having relations with her husband so she pushes her way into the victim's house and then throws poop on the victim, a bucket of poop." That is an actual quote from the judge during a recent bond hearing in Miami. NBC reported that Yirsi Machado-Rivera was arrested on charges of burglary and battery after attacking her neighbor with a bucket of human feces. Machado-Rivera told police that she did, in fact, have such a bucket that she was using while her toilet was out of commission; however, she denied dumping the doody, instead claiming that the neighbor attacked her with a bat. Full story at: https://www.nbcmiami.com/news/local/miami-woman-threw-bucket-of-poop-on-neighbor-she-accused-of-sleeping-with-husband-cops-say/3856371/
→
NOT
QUITE SHIT DEPT:
Today.com
reported that a
Georgia second grade teacher Candy Sydney-Browning created a "gas
station" in her classroom for students who just need to let one
rip. "I have a very weak stomach, so I cannot take it,"
Sydney-Browning said. The gas station is marked with a yellow sign
that reads "GUSTY WINDS AREA," and students are not
required to raise their hands to ask permission to visit the gas
station. Sydney-Browning said some initially turned around or smiled
when someone needed to visit the gas station, but soon no one was
paying attention. "It just became a norm," she said. Full
story at:
https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/other/georgia-teacher-has-fart-corner-that-lets-students-pass-gas-without-disruptions-this-is-genius/ar-AA2b8PEe
→
SO BEING NAKED IS SEXUAL HARASSMENT, HUH? DEPT: So
all that Italian sculpture is nasty, right? Kiante Matlock of Houston
was playing a video game when he got a notification that his DoorDash
order had arrived. When he checked his Ring camera, he saw his
delivery driver was nude. Matlock threw his food away and asked
DoorDash for a refund, which they promptly issued. In a statement, a
DoorDash spokesperson called the driver's behavior "vulgar and
completely unacceptable. "We do not tolerate sexual harassment
or misconduct of any kind, and we stand ready to assist law
enforcement with any investigation." In Denmark, my favorite
country, the law requires that naked people be allowed in public
places-- especially
public beaches.
I wish I could afford to live there. Full Houston
story is
at:
https://people.com/doordash-driver-caught-on-delivering-food-naked-12072039
LINKS:
Starting this month, I'll be posting in
Substack as well as Blogger. I want to
thank Jim Testa for helping me set it up.
Subscribe to the blog at:
https://mykelboard188732.substack.com
Read
or/and subscribe to Jim at
https://jimtestanj.substack.com
It’s About Time dept: Finally, a book about Hungarian Punk put out by Puke and Vomit records. Great scene there and I was glad to have contact with bands like Der Trottel and Tizedesz. Glad to have been a (very small) part of that scene.
Albert
aka Alberto Melody is the reason I went to Kenya. We met on facebook
a couple years ago. He has a blog you should take a look at:
Albertomelody.blogspot.com.
Tell him Mykel sent ya. Oh yeah… He’s looking for friends his
own age.
So if you’re a 20-something and interested in Africa… or just
meeting new people. Contact him at: albertletowon42@gmail.com
Jim Testa, a long-time friend, journalist, editor, musician and wordsmith, has an interesting substack about music and more. You can find it here.
Sid Yiddish sent me this link to all his videos. It’s a great place to start, especially if you don’t know him.
I did a nice interview with The Aither zine. Interesting questions, complete, and questions I’ve never been asked before. You can read it here. It’s a good one.
Here’s Ricardo Wang with a “micro-label” in Seattle “specializing in 8-track tapes and CDs. WOW! Check out one of their label staples: The Dead Air Fresheners, best band name of the year.
Also on bandcamp: My very long time faves in NYC, the BLACKOUT SHOPPERS. Featuring pals Seth and possibly the next vice-president of the US
Sid Yiddish has posted a video of a show done for WZRD
in Chicago. Great live performances, and if you catch the video
around the 20+ minute point you might see a familiar face doing the
lyrics to his songs (some unrecorded) as poetry. You’ll find it
here.
And this sounds right up Sid’s alley. The Bilderberg Jazz Arkestra on Bandcamp!
Eric Grayson has an online music review zine, Sobriquet. Full pictures of the sleeves too! Something missing from too many zines. Sometimes you CAN judge a… er… book… by its cover.
Steen Thomsen is a Dane I’ve known ever since Lincoln was shot. I put his band THE ZERO POINT on the great WORLD CLASS PUNK Cassette for ROIR. It must be worth a mint now. I don’t have any left, I’m afraid. You can (and should) connect to the Zero Point on facebook. Tell ‘em Mykel’s blog sent you.
Sorry Dorothy, we are STILL in Kansas. And it’s as weird as OZ. Check out Bob Cutler’s DISTOPEKA.
You already know Murder & Mayhem zine… those guys who did the Mykel Board centerfold. (No genitals shown… and probably for the better.) Their online version is here.
The Clean Boys from Denmark are also longtime friends of mine. In Denmark we recorded as The Bend-over Boys. Only one 10-inch available… but at least now I can say I have a 10-incher!
Finally, for this month, Margaret O’Brien asked me to include the site: anti-war.com They seem to be folks after my own heart. I’m glad they didn’t call it “anti-defense.”
Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.
Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. mykelboard@gmail.com
