BRAIN POLICE or Mykel's Post MRR Column no 52

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMNS

POST MRR COLUMN NUMBER 52

Brain Police!

by Mykel Board

Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.” --Buddha

I know of no country in which there is so little independence of mind and real freedom of discussion as in America. --de Tocqueville

What will you do if the people you knew were the plastic that melted, and the chromium too? WHO ARE THE BRAIN POLICE? --Frank Zappa

Yo! Yeah, I'm talking to you. No, don't look over your shoulder... There's no one there. Yeah you! You... the echo of every tweet that agrees with you. You... the spewer of every fashionable idea that every one of your friends spouts... verbatim. You... the cop-hating language cop. You the safe-spacer... the spouter of thoughts you take for granted... but are wrong. Yeah, I'm talking to you!

FLASH TO PORNHUB.COM: Damn it! A search for bisexual Africans is one page long and it only has lesbos with guys. What's up with that? Where is the doggie-style girl on her hands and knees... one guy on either end... the black twinks kissing each other as the girl gives head to one and takes the other up the wazoo? Forward me the links... please!

Elena once asked me if I still could jerk off only to what's in my mind... if I NEEDED porn to get a stiffy... if I could use my own fantasy to spew the few drops my prostate has left onto that faithful purple rag that hangs next to the computer.

An interesting question. The facile answer is Of course I don't need porn. An attractive REAL LIVE naked person will work just fine. That is a cheat... and it's not the point. The point? Can I construct a fantasy in my mind... one strong enough to get me off? With no pictures... no text... no outside inspiration?

I can do it, if I fantasize about someone I've seen. I can have an orgasmic mental vision if the people are real. I can rise and stroke if I have an image in my head of someone substantive... a real LIVE person. But I cannot create from scratch. I cannot make a face... a body... a dialog... out of nothing... and then jerk off to it. I USED TO be able to do it. But now I can't. Is porn responsible for that inability? We'll talk about that later.

FLASH TO LAS VEGAS NEVADA: Stephen Paddock, an ex-serviceman, open-fires on a Country and Western crowd. Blau... blau. BlauBlauBlau.. A....aaaaa.aaaaaaaaaa...aaaaa...

Bodies crash to the ground. That ground quickly turns to crimson mud. A young woman tries to run from the shots... she trips over a corpse... near corpse?... she's down. Ratatatatat across her back. Two corpses.... Then more. By the time it's over, the body count is 59.

FLASH TO SUTHERLAND SPRINGS, TEXAS: Devin Patrick Kelley enters a church on November 4... He opens fire. Heavy artillery... through the pews... KERPOW! KERPOW! KERPOW! Bullet-torn victims from 24 months to 70 years old.. A sea of bloody Christians... come together to ask for God's blessing and this is what they get. Almost enough to make you think God is not such a nice guy.

FLASH TO NEW YORK... HALLOWEEN: I hate Halloween. Next to Santacon, it's my least favorite holiday of the year. In NYU-land... around the corner from my apartment, Halloween is an excuse for every closet-queen fratboy to dress in borrowed frills and stuffed brassieres.. and parade his drunken idiocy on the street. It's gotten worse since the costume cops make even this unacceptable (sexist, they say)... limiting approved trans-costumes to Superheroes ... and inanimate objects.  

The morning of this Halloween a rented truck in Soho plows into a group of cyclists and pedestrians. The driver shouts ALLAH AKHBAR or something like that. BLAM! Right down the bike path. PITUM! PITUM! PITUM! Like a ball in a bowling alley. Bikes and people fly through the air like bowling pins. Eight people die. 

You don't have to be Nostradamus to predict the reaction. MASSACRE... MASSACRE... TERROR.

Social Justice Warriors twitter up a storm:

On and on... a tsunami of righteous indignation. When I object, I hear that old 1960s refrain. Mykel, you're either part of the solution or you're part of the problem.

I say: YOU'RE WRONG! The solution IS the problem.

FLASH TO HATE-CRIMES: Somebody scrawls a swastika on a tombstone in a Jewish cemetery. It's A HATE CRIME!! That means the perp goes to jail... for graffiti.

It's a dark side street in Greenwich Village. Two young guys... matching haircuts... walk down the street hand-in-hand. The sound of voices rings from behind.

“Let's get 'em!”

A gaggle of colored teens is on the homosexuals. A fist to the ribs... one to the head. One of the attackers holds one of the gay pair. Another reaches into the victim's pocket and and takes his wallet.

“Yeah, you homos... I need this more than you do.”

The colored guys are later arrested and charged with assault and robbery as a hate crime... sentenced to an extra two years in jail... just for the hate part.

FLASH TO JOHNNY CARSON 1960s:

Carson is playing THE GREAT CARNAC! Wearing a huge turban (politically incorrect in the 21^st Century) festooned with jewels, he takes a sealed envelope and holds it to his temple.

“And the answer is PETER PAN!” He says. Then he opens the envelope and reads:

“What do you use to fry a Peter?”

Next envelope:

“And the answer is Hi Diddly Dee.” And he opens the envelope.

“How do you say Good Morning to your diddly dee?”

Get it? Mind reading was a trick. A joke. Something that everyone knew was fake... an impossibility. That was 1965... Sometimes what everybody knew, nobody knows anymore.

Now, what's IN THE MIND is no longer a joke. It's not a parlor trick. It's a crime! TERRORISM, like a HATE-CRIME is in the mind of the criminal... not in the action. It is a thought crime. Your support for HATE-CRIME laws, makes TERRORISM laws possible. YOU... yeah you... give the okay to criminalize what people are thinking.

What makes the Muslim a terrorist while the white guys aren't? It's the same reasoning that makes a subway graffitier an artist and a swastika painter a hate criminal. It's the MIND.

Don't tell me there are other thought crimes. Crimes of intent. The difference between a killing by accident and MURDER. Intent requires SOMETHING in the mind of the perp... but it doesn't say what that something is. If I plan to kill you... that shows intent. If I stalk you. Follow your comings and goings... wait outside your door for you to show yourself... that shows intent. It doesn't matter WHAT the motive is... jealousy... fear... hatred... revenge... intent is the only requirement. It doesn't take a mind-reader to figure it out.

In the 21^st Century, things have changed. Where mind-reading was a joke, now it's deadly serious. People are going to jail... maybe executed... because of their thoughts! Because of what's in their minds.

You're pissed that the white guys massacred and the Arab was a terrorist! The reason is the thought, not the action. Terrorism is for political ends. The THOUGHT must be to make some political change. The massacre-makers had no politics. They were in it for the blood. More people died in the massacres, but the killers didn't THINK terrorist^® thoughts.

I've written before about my feelings on hate crimes. Now we see it reflected in terrorism. The same people who support hate crime laws, now complain about “unfair” terrorism charges. You... yeah you... you don't get it. You're the problem.

Once you allow MIND-CRIMES... once you allow the law to prosecute thoughts... what's in the mind... you unleash a terrible power. How many of my fantasies are illegal... and yours? How many women dream about getting raped... but would never want it in real life? What if there were penalties just for the fantasy? How many diaries... blogs... pre-bedtime jerk-offs... daydreams... nightmares are against the law... or will be?

Is my increasing inability to fantasize a reaction to increasing thought control? I donno, but it might be.

When we police thinking... we stop thinking. Americans suffer from lack of thinking enough. My inability to create a hard-on-inducing image from scratch is a precursor to ALL of our inabilities to imagine anything new, different, transgressive, strange.

The cliched answer to Why do they hate is? is: They're jealous of our freedom. As long as THINKING is against the law, we have no freedom to be jealous of.

--End of the Main Part--

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.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 by subscribing to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

--> I said it in the 80s dept: I found a link to a "song" I wrote in the 1980s that had similar ideas... called "terrorist." You can find it at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqBBIxBYQ1I, but you might have to cut and paste, because Blogger is acting up today.  

-->Scalp em! dept: The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden has dismantled an anti-slavery artwork that tried to recreate the gallows Americans used to help enslave non-white people. Why was it dismantled? Indians!

      Protesters said it was traumatic “because it recalled the execution of 38 tribesmen in 1862.” Traumatic? That's the idea! But you can't talk to people about trauma... it may cause a traumatic reaction.

-->Leaving Absurdistan dept: By the time you read this I'll be out of New York on my yearly adventure to... someplace. This year I'm going to:

     1.Los Angeles from Dec 1 through the 7th

2. New Zealand from Dec 9 through New Year's Eve
3. Tahiti (Pape-ete) for a SECOND New Year's Eve (It's on the other side of the International Dateline, get it?) Till Jan 8
4. San Francisco Till Jan 14

If you'll be in any of those places let me know... and we can meet up. If you've got beer and a couch, that's even better.

-->Busy little beaver dept: There's lots to pimp this month. First, there's an essay I wrote (actually a version of an MRR column), about GG Allin's last show in New York. The book it's in is expensive, but great! Click on it for more information and Amazon ordering. Maybe you can get it used.

-->Something for the girls dept: I contributed a lot of photos, but they only wanted the ones that presented a “positive image.” So I think I have one picture in the book... even then, it's a fine inspiration and memory of a time when females did more than complain about being touched.

-->You're kidding dept: Those who REALLY know me, know that I'm a fan of haiku and senryu (more human, usually humorous, haiku). I don't mean those idiotic 5-7-5 internet joke haiku. I mean REAL stuff. Stuff that ignores 5-7-5 and goes for something deeper. For 25 years or so, I've belonged to The Spring Street Haiku Group. We do small chapbook anthologies. Here's the current one... and it's cheap. If you can't connect by clicking on the book, it's because I'm out of town. Try again at the end of January, or send a crisp $5 bill to me at POB 137, NYC 10012. I'll send you a copy when I get back.

-->Last With A Hard-on dept: Remember when homos celebrated QUEERNESS instead of pushing to be JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE? You can see me, Tom Jennings, Larry Livermore, Bruce LaBruce and the terrific GB Jones (among others). In the Queercore documentary... Here's a link to their facebook page. 

MORE PLUGS

If you're interested in my travel writing , check out http://mykelsdiary.blogspot.com/

You can read some of my classics as far back as the 70s at: http://mykelsoldies.blogspot.com/

I also have some random postings including several on how rich people spend their money.

Those are at: http:/mykelsclippings.blogspot.com

AND FINALLY

LINK TRADE:

I read that the search engines like lots of links... and it's also nice to support my friends and enemies in their blogs. So facebook me or email me if you have a blog, webpage or something else to connect to.

Here's a start:

• David Goldberg's Busy Microbes Blog

• And another Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com

• Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

• Sometimes I contribute to an interesting multi-talented blog called OgFomK Arts see me there!

• And my friend Mike R has a nice site with recipe hits from the past! (He cooked for me once... great stuff.) Check out Yesterday's Recipes. 

• And here's one by a member of ANTI-SEEN... a tour diary of sorts.

See you in hell!

--Mykel Board

In Praise of Deportation or Mykel's Post MRR Column no 45

Mykel's

Post MRR Column no 45

In Praise of Deportation

by Mykel Board

[NOTE: My columns got switched. What should have been this month’s column (scheduled for the end of April for May reading) was released last month. This column should have been published at the end of March for April reading. Sorry for the mix-up.]

Ah April, whose showers bring May flowers. A month of renewal, where things resurrect. Jesus rises from the grave. Matzoh rises from the Seder plate. Saplings turn into little trees. Chocolate turns into little rabbits. It’s the beginning of the new.

But April is also the time of endings. The cold weather ends. Sunshine ends as the rain begins. The fiscal year ends as millions of Americans file their income tax forms. Besides ending, April also means leaving… Winter leaves us. Animals leave their homes of hibernation. Seems like half of the Netflix programs will be leaving in April. So leaving is a fitting topic. And that's what I want to talk about this month: DEPORTATION.

Let’s make this clear. I’m the grandson of illegal immigrants. I LOVE immigrants. When I hear about “an influx of new immigrants,” I think Oh yeah! More restaurants! I’m there. I love the sounds of new languages jammering helter-skelter in the streets… in the subways… ALL of my best friends are immigrants..

BUT!

And here’s the big BUT… I love big butts... immigration and deportation are not the same. I know, you think of them as a pair. In and out. Up and down. Immigration and deportation. The old coin that has two sides often flipped on immigration and deportation. You're wrong. They are not the same.

I used to be as against deportation as I was pro-immigration. My thoughts have changed. Here’s what happened.

FLASH TO MY BEDROOM: I sit naked in front of the computer. It's 5AM. My body-- as it often does-- has awakened me with one urge or another. Piss taken, it's time to relieve myself of that special morning stiffness. But wait! My eyes burn... itch... snot fills my sinuses... sneezes: One... two...three... four... in a row... like a chain punch in kung fu. Allergy... messing up my jerk off. I rub my eyes. I rub my nose. Whoa what's that? A hair... a tiny millimeter of a hair... on the outside of my nose. NOBODY has hair on the OUTSIDE of their nose... what the fuck is that?

I try to pluck it out with my fingers... pressing it between my thumbnail and the skin of my forefinger. .. I can't get it. I try again. Shit... it's still there... I don't believe this. I fetch the tweezers... lying next to the computer... used... until now... for removing paper jammed in the printer. I go to the bathroom and lean close to the mirror. There it is... right at the tip of my nose... a hair... no bigger than a bedbug.. growing from the outside of my nose... a whisker... completely in the wrong place.

I put the sharp edge of the tweezers under the offending hair. Carefully, I clamp down... I've got it! I give a tug. A delightful burst of pain... and the offending hair is removed... deported directly to the waste basket.

FLASH TO BOWERY ELECTRIC: Being neither a Kate Bush nor a Brian Eno fan, I’m at a Kate Bush/Brian Eno tribute band festival. Why isn’t important. What is important is to tell you about the layout of the place. In the back is a mezzanine with a bar and merch corner. If you stand at the front of the raised part, you have a good view of the bands… if nobody tall stands in front of you.

The lower section is a bit like CBGBs for the hardcore shows. No tables, just a big space in front of the stage. I (all five feet three inches of me) stand downstairs on top of the only bench… along one of the walls.

I can see fine… for the first few songs. Then this oaf… a giant… if I were standing on the floor I could bite his nipple without bending my knees… I wish I had the chance… This oaf, with a beer... probably a Bud Light… pushes his way through the crowd and stands right in front of the stage.

“Tall people in back!” I yell.

He pretends he doesn’t hear. What the fuck? I stand right behind him... breathe hard on his OBEY t-shirt... press the toes of my army boots against his heels.

He turns around... looks down at me.

“You want something little man?” he says.

“I want you to die... a painful-but-quick death,” I reply.

He smiles and turns back to the stage. Then it occurs to me. Why not deport him? Him and all tall people. Tall people use up natural resources. They take oxygen before it can reach the ground. They pollute the air with their carbon dioxide... global warming the rest of us... those of us who are closer to the earth. Get rid of 'em. Now.

Who cares when or how they came into the country? They're bullies and egotists... randomly using their height privilege... their sense of entitlement... their long reach to grab things off the shelves before the rest of us can get to them. Send 'em to Holland. There're plenty of tall people there. Maybe the Zulus will welcome them... they seem to be a height-friendly people. I don't care. Off with them, I say. America will be a better place if we get rid of tall people. Where to, is not important.

FLASH TO THE WHEELTAPPER BAR: It's in midtown... a faux Irish bar with real Irish waitresses. A quiet place... no TVs... a place where you can have a beer or three... unfettered. There's only a murmur of voices from the other tables. I sit with three friends, two Japanese and one Cuban-American. We talk sex and beer.

“I donno,” says Yoshi, one of the Japanese guys in our group. “Beer and sex don't always mix. One gets in the way of the other.”

“It's like I always say,” I say like always. “It's blowing your nose and wiping your ass with the same piece of toilet paper. There's nothing wrong with it... provided you do it in the right order.”

“Eeeeeehahahahah! Oooooh!” An inhuman scream comes from someplace to the left. I look over at a table on the other side of the bar.

“And then he asked me out? He's a fisherman and he asked me out?” she's talking at the top of her lungs. Screaming... a voice precisely tuned to the pitch of maximum irritation. There's one in every bar.... one girl with THAT VOICE... who can spoil the best night out. 

“I bet she's from Long Island,” says Richard, the Cuban American.

“That's geographyism!” I answer.

“I bet she's a Jap,” whispers Richard... then he looks at Yoshi. “Sorry,” he says, “a different kind of Jap.”

But race, birthplace, or age have nothing to do with it. It is some sort of biology... or maybe an accident of having a lot of brothers. But if you're honest you know it. Every bar, every night, has a girl with that voice. What is to be done?

Of course, DEPORTATION!!! Get rid of them. Send in D.I.C.E. (Department In Charge of Expulsion). Let 'em raid every bar. Find THE GIRL WITH THAT VOICE in each one. Out! Dump 'em on Mexico or Canada... anywhere... but get 'em out NOW!! Pack 'em up and ship 'em out!

FLASH TO DELAWARE: In an effort to be more ecumenical, the Delaware state legislature allows a mosque member to give the invocation. The guy removes all Allah references from the text before he gives it. Still, one of the legislators walks out.

“How could I stay?” he asks. “The Quran tells people they should kill Americans.”

The Quran was written in 600 AD... about a millennium before there was an America. Only a total moron could say that a book he's never read (authorized Qurans are only printed in Arabic), predicted the existence of a country a century later... and then told the readers to kill the people of that country. Of course, the legislator is white.

Then I start thinking about white people. Ya know, most people don't like to admit their racism, but if you look at history, you gotta see it. Who dropped the atom bomb? White people! Who built concentration camps? White people! Who made selfishness into a philosophy (called Capitalism)? White people! Who runs Chase, Citibank, and Pfizer Pharmaceuticals? White people! Who are the presidents of Starbucks, Spirit Airlines, and Walmart? White people! White people! White people! If there is a race with NO redeeming qualities... it's WHITE PEOPLE.

America must have been a great place to live (under a different name)... before there were white people. I'm sure the Indians had their skirmishes, but there was nothing to compare to the massive trail of tears... or the Civil War... or WWI or WWII.... Yeah, I know the Japanese were involved... but it was mainly a war of WHITE PEOPLE.

The answer? DEPORTATION! Get rid of them. I don't know who's anxious for an influx of savage white dolts, but there must be someplace that will take them. Maybe England... they seem to be begging for white people. Why not give them what they ask for?

Who else? Jocks! People who stand on the walk side of the escalator! Rude clerks at fast food places! Train station cellphone talkers! The list goes on. Get them out! Deport them like an errant nose hair!

Ah, what a great place this will be when deportation is finally able to work its magic. What a beautiful place, when there's only me.

-end-

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.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 by joining the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->Gender inequality Dept: The U.K. is trying its first case of Female Genital Mutilation. You can read reports about it all over the internet. I wonder how long before a US doctor is tried for the same crime. Of course, MALE genital mutilation continues on a daily basis in the US. No one cares...Business as usual... of course.

-->Gender inequality pt. 2 Dept: Anti-fascist^® attacks on peaceful protestors or speech-makers continue. In Australia, a politician was punched in the face on national TV because anti-fas disagreed with him. In Berkeley, during a protest which included attacks on wheelchair bound veterans and old people... A woman throwing bottles at “Nazis”(aka anybody she disagrees with)was punched by someone trying to stop her. Instant outrage? (Not at the bottle thrower, of course.) Why? He hit a woman!
Sounds like 1950s Christian morality... but if it fits, the anti-fas wear it. Sorry folks, but you gotta expect the other side will eventually fight back. That eventually is now.

--> Take that and shove it dept: The Daily Dot reports that an expensive “personal vibrator” is equipped with an internet camera so that the vibratees can record and watch the action on their personal devices. Of course, hackers found the device easily hackable, and now, somewhere, there is a site for the rest of us to watch. Oh, the default password for the vibrator is 88888888. Though I don't know why you'd need that.

-->Keeping the pressure on: I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a Bring Back Mykel concerted effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll. He forwarded me an answer to a letter MRR printed where the editors excuse my firing not as censorship for content, but because I “refuse to answer letters in the letters section.”

That's a lie.

In any case, please send comments to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL. Let me know how they answer.

MRR also has a facebook page, (as does as Mariam Bastida, the girl who fired me). You might want to let them know how you feel.

-end-

If you're interested in my travel writing (not updated recently) check out http://mykelsdiary.blogspot.com/

You can read some of my classics as far back as the 70s at: http://mykelsoldies.blogspot.com/

I also have some random postings including several on how rich people spend their money. Those are at: http:/mykelsclippings.blogspot.com

See you in hell!

 

Deep Meanings! or Mykel Board's Post MRR Column no. 35

Deep Meaning/ No Meaning

Mykel's

Post MRR Column no 35

I don't want to be a tree, I want to be its meaning.” --Orhan Pamuk

"The more we know about the universe, the more meaningless it appears.” --Steven Weinberg, Nobel Physicist

"What is useful to us generally conflicts with what is true.” --Julian Barnes

Meaning

by Mykel Board


1970-something: If she had a few more teeth, she'd be almost pretty. I forget if it's crack or speed that does it... If I close my eyes... those gums... stroking up and down on my five inches of throbbing flesh... they aren't so bad. When I look at her... that view from the top of her head with the greasy black hair... just-this-side-of-intentional dreadlocks... her nose... light blue veins under translucent skin.. moves back and forth to the beat of her lips

In an objective way... me detached from my body... there... behind CBGBs where the bands load-in... under the faint glow of a spotlight... I watch myself, leaned up against the filthy brick... my own blue veins appearing and disappearing under the nose of the young woman on her knees in the tar in front of me. The veins of her nose are a counterpoint to the veins of my tumescent baby carrot. I can feel her lips... dry... chapped... wet and rewet by her dripping tongue.

My body calls to me... a pulsing seminal call. I answer:

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

A thin white dribble falls from the side of her mouth.

Five dollars later, I'm around the corner and back inside CBGBs. It's the DEAD BOYS tonight. Just those two intro chords to Sonic Reducer... DAHN DAHAN... send a thrill up my spine that matches anything a crack whore can do.

“Yo Mykel,” comes the voice.

If there's one thing I hate, it's THE READER injecting himself in what I'm writing. I'm not even writing and already THE READER is butting in like a radical at a political rally.

“I'm trying to watch the band,” I tell THE READER. “Can you at least wait until they're done? It's the fuckin' DEAD BOYS!”

“Yo Mykel,” comes the voice again. “You just told a story about a crack whore blow job behind CBGBs. You did it for some reason. It MEANS something...”

“What do you think it means?” I ask.

“You're saying that we're all whores, and that a crackhead blowjob is no more exploitation than a California grape harvest.”

“Nope,” I answer. “That's not what I'm saying at all.”

“Well then,” comes the reply, “you're saying that sex is just a matter of friction, and it's ridiculous to romanticize it with soft music or poppunk love songs pretending LOVE when all anything is... is sex.”

“I might think that,” I say. “But it's not why I wrote this.”

“Then what does it mean?” comes the rather whiny reply.

Listen asshole, sometimes a crack whore blow job is just a crack whore blow job. It doesn't MEAN anything. It's not happy or sad or a metaphor. It's not a sign of society's this or that. It's not a signal to do this or that. It is itself! Chapped lips on a penis. Five inches of depth... nothing deeper than that.

Flash to Now: I begin to write this a few days after some guy in Orlando blasts a hundred homosexuals with a semi-automatic machine gun.

Kerpow! Kerpow! He's holed up in the bathroom. Semi-automatic, semi-automaticing the panicked homotude. People down... bleeding... dying... The cops take hours to get there. Kerpow! Kerpow! Blood... rivers of it greasing the dancefloor. The cops break in through the wall. Kerpow! Kerpow! Kill the guy.

News comes dribbing and drabbing. He's a white Christian, on an anti-gay rampage. He's a Muslim. He's a security guard for a company with secret government contracts. He's a soldier for ISIS. He only pledged himself to ISIS minutes before he started firing. He's a homo himself.

On and on. Speculation, pronouncements, false news, half truths... political statements... a circus.

Months before, the FBI's investigated him. They found nothing. There were no charges... an investigation... that's all! But, they investigated him! That's enough for people who want guns banned for “the accused,” whether guilty or not. Forget the idea of innocent until proven guilty. In American in 2016, accused is guilty enough.

He was a Muslim. Forget the fact he was on Grindr. Forget that he was a regular at the club. Forget that he tried to set up dates with other guys. Forget the fact that a Chassid on a rampage murdered a fellow Jew at a gay pride parade in Israel. This guy was a Muslim. That's enough.

He was gay. Forget the fact he had a kid. Forget that he was married. Forget that there are more choices than being gay or being straight. He was gay. That's enough.

He had a gun. Forget the fact that if others had had guns he could have been stopped. Forget the fact that most people who have guns don't shoot anyone. Forget the fact that Americans celebrate people with guns... from cowboys to soldiers. He had a gun. That's enough.

People talking shit.... shit... shit... shit and more shit.

What does it mean? That we need to ban guns? Ban Muslims? That homosexuals kill each other? That homosexuals have to protect each other. That trannies should be allowed to use women's bathrooms? No! No! No!

Sometimes a blowjob from a crack whore is just a blowjob from a crack whore. It doesn't have to MEAN anything. A nut with a gun... a club with some homosexuals... BANG! BANG! BANG! Dead people. That's what it is.

Donald Trump and Bill Maher say: IT'S MUSLIM! Look at the Muslims. Evangelicals say IT'S MUSLIM. IT'S GAY... look at GAY MUSLIMS. There's even a preacher who praises the gunman.

“Are you sad that 50 pedophiles were killed today?” sermonizes the pastor of Verity Baptist Church. “Um no, I think that’s great! I think that helps society. I think Orlando, Florida is a little safer tonight.”

Anti-gun liberals say, “It's guns! Take guns away and this can't happen.” Pro-gun gays say if others are armed, this can't happen.

Whatever your agenda, there's always a tragedy to prove your point. Except that YOU'RE WRONG! Sometimes a crack whore blowjob is just a crack whore blowjob. The five bucks stops there.

Sure, it's pain and horror for those involved, but that's not a reason why it has to MEAN something. More Muslims DON'T kill people than DO kill people. More homosexuals die in car accidents than in nightclubs.

Death and pain are there... part of life. They make us sad... or angry... or fearful... but they don't MEAN anything. Get it? Sometimes a crack whore blowjob is just a crack whore blowjob.

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.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 by subscribing to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->Didn't you read the contract dept: In May of this year, the Norwegian Consumer Council staged a live, 32-hour TV broadcast marathon -- a word-for-word reading of the "terms of service" for internet applications Instagram, Spotify and more than two dozen others. This totaled 900 pages and 250,000 words of legal restrictions and conditions. Millions of users "voluntarily" agree to them when they sign up-- usually through a mouse click. A local government official called such terms "bordering on the absurd, as consumers could not possibly understand everything they were legally binding themselves to."

     I say, isn't that the idea?

-->Good thing he wasn't a Muslim dept: Convicted murderer Charles Flores was on Texas' death row for more than 16 years (until June 2 of this year) before the state's highest criminal appeals court ruled that the execution might not be justified. Why? The most important evidence was provided by a witness whom the police had hypnotized. The trial judge, and the jury, had accepted that "hypnosis" could lead to "recovered" memory. This was a popular theory in the 1980s and 1990s. It was often used in pedophile and satanism cases. These days, the idea is recognized as bullshit.

There was no physical evidence against Flores. So, for some reason, they didn't kill him... yet. We'll see what happens.

-->She passes on balls dept: Melissa Meija complained that (get this) she was allowed to graduate from High School despite the fact she had failing grades and didn't do her homework. Her teacher said she (the teacher) was put under tremendous pressure by the school to pass the student to boost the school's graduation rate.

     If I were the principal, I'd say PASS THAT GIRL, just on honesty.

     This whole thing is one of the evil legacies of Billionaire Mayor Michael Bloomberg. He's the one who brought the whole “failing schools” concept to NY education. He should not be given a passing grade.

-->And a touch of good news Dept: I'd guess from the boxing gloves that the Yippies who now run an “underground boxing bar” on Bleecker St. are responsible for this. I also guess they they don't have permission from CBGB to use the logo, so

that's why the last B is missing. But I like the mural, and I'm glad to see wall painting praised instead of Giuliani-ed to a prison cell-- with or without hypnosis.

--> Keeping the Pressure on Dept: I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a continuing Bring Back Mykel effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll for censoring me.

As their revolving editrixes move on to commercial ventures, each blames her predecessors for my demise... as if they had no control over the business... and couldn't simply invite me back.

Send your comments to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com (or post on their facebook page) with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL! Let me know how they answer.

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