You’re STILL Wrong Mykel's Sept 2018 Blog/Column "Well-Hung"

You’re STILL Wrong

or
Mykel's

Sept 2018 Blog/Column

Well-hung

The pain starts at the ankles. A rough localized pain… not a stabbing pain... closer to an intense rash that hurts rather than itches. It’s the rope... digging into me… every strand cutting its own notch… if I move an inch… try to twist or flop my body… it cuts deeper.

The hook on the ceiling stays firm. I half hope it will pull out... freeing me from the hanging, but if it gives way suddenly, the entire 135 pounds of my body weight will land on my bald skull.. likely splitting it. So here I hang… naked... my head a couple feet above the concrete floor, my elderly breasts slightly higher on my chest than they are when I’m standing. Between my legs my floppy bits hang in a limp parody of the erection that wasn’t.

It must be an hour now. The pain in my bladder is slowly becoming intolerable. Gravity fights the urge to piss. I have to piss upward… over a urethral hill… then down. The pressure wins… gravity loses... the stream pushes its way from between my legs... up over the taint… and out. A yellow stream from up to down… hitting my chin as if perfectly aimed by one of those Russian piss experts. I tilt my head forward to catch it in my mouth.

None of that is true. At least, none is true on a literal level. Metaphorically, it’s the focus of this blog… Here’s something that IS true.

It’s noon. My first class starts in an hour and a half. It’s a cloudy day… rain a minute away… in any direction. I stop at Cafe Angelique on my way to the subway. Walking in, the most beautiful girl I’ve seen this year is walking out. She holds the door… makes a chivalrous sweeping hand gesture… and smiles… not one of those tooth-gritting-I’m-doing-this-to-be-polite-but-actually-I-hate-you smiles… but a real you’re-a-person-I’m a person-and-I’m happy-we’ve-had-this-encounter-however-brief smile. The cloudy day brightens a bit… from the inside.

Inside the cafe, I pick up my usual bagel stick (cream cheese, lox, on a mini-French bread… baked like a bagel)... and head to the counter to pay for it. I pass by the second most beautiful girl I’ve seen this year. On her lap... standing... is a little boy, obviously enjoying his trip to the cafe. Not only does the woman smile at me, she says “Hello there.” And even the little boy shows me a toothy grin. One tooth is missing.

I feel like I’m walking six inches off the floor. What a way to start the day! It looks like one of those rare days… not one of those days.^® I find myself whistling Hungarian Rhapsody on the short walk from the cafe to the subway station. I never whistle.

On the platform, I walk to the end where the least crowded car will dock. I eat the bagel stick and wait for the train. When it arrives, I get in and there are about half a dozen people in the car. I sit in the 2-seat bench next to the door. Today it's more out of habit than from my usual curmudgeonly desire not to have some man-spreader force himself into the seat next to me before spreading.

On the same side of the car… the other side of the door… a tough woman sits sipping something out of an ice-filled plastic cup. I set down my backpack and pull out the latest Nation and start reading stuff I know I’ll half agree with.

CRASH!

Not the train, but the woman's cup of ice as it falls to the floor. I look at the cup laying there… mostly still filled with ice, but with a few cubes lying helter skelter on the floor. I look from the cup back to the woman. She sits.. her fist tucked under her chin… a sad parody of Rodin...

her brows furrowed not in thought but in hostility… to something I can’t see.

I look from her to the cup on the floor and back to her... then back to The Nation. In my peripheral vision I can see her stand up and move to the other end of the car… as far away from my end as possible.

I try to focus on The Nation. At the next stop a few more people get into the car. When the door closes, the icewoman stands again and walks toward her cup on the floor. When she reaches it, she pulls back a leg like a football punter… then she kicks the cup... aiming it directly at my face… It misses my face… but does not miss my shirt and pants… soon covered with melted ice.

“He kept watching me!” she shouts to the rest of the passengars… all of whom quickly bury themselves in their cellphones.

I go back to The Nation and read the same sentence over and over again. Something about a Trump Bump.... I'm not getting it, but at least I don't have to look at the angry woman.

Luckily, the next stop is Grand Central. My stop... I get out… jog up the stairs… move into an alcove and glance behind to see if she’s followed me. She hasn’t.

Key point, I think, ALL of the women in this anecdote are colored… the two women in the cafe… the woman in the subway car. All slight variations on the color of oak in the lobby of the Algonquin Hotel... beautiful!

So, what’s all this got to do with hanging by my ankles naked from the ceiling in an unnamed building? I’m glad you asked: UPSIDE DOWN is the connection. My day turned upside down from heart-melting kindness to maniacal hostility. Life, people, everything that comes with the modern world is turning upside down… and few people notice it!

Leftists and rightists stand on their heads… supporting exactly the opposite of leftists and rightists… with as much anger at their former selves as the colored woman with a cup of ice.

FLASHBACK: On February 1, 1960, at 4:30pm, four black guys sit down at the lunch counter inside the Woolworth store in Greensboro North Carolina. The men have already purchased toothpaste and other products from the store with no problems. At the store's lunch counter they are refused service when they each asks for a cup of coffee. Following store policy, the staff refuses to serve the black men at the "whites only" counter. The store manager, Clarence Harris, asks them to leave. The four freshmen, however, stay until the store closes. The next day, more than twenty black students, recruited from other campus groups, join the sit-in.

They are customers demanding the same rights as other customers. Consumers demanding from the giant corporation...

WE SHALL OVERCOME!

This is the call of the generation… inspired by black, but soon gone to white… It leads to the Civil Rights Act of 1964. It leads to a host of others… but most importantly it establishes the basic principle that the right of the individual trumps the right of the corporation. The right of a customer to choose his business trumps the right of the business to choose its customer. You can’t just make “company rules”… post a sign WHITES ONLY and win. Anyone who can pay for your services is entitled to them. White customers complain. They are being disturbed by people who they didn’t like.

“Let the Negroes go to their own restaurants,” they say. “If they don’t like it, they should just open up a place themselves.”

Leftists/communists/liberals and my very young self applauded the sit-iners. We cheered the end of segregation and the affirmation of the rights of people over the rights of companies to just post a sign and keep people out. No more thumb over shoulder saying… “read the sign buddy, WHITES ONLY that’s the rule.”

FLASH TO 2018: Facebook, Apple, YouTube cut the account of wacko conspiricist Alex Jones. POW! We don’t like you! You’re out. If there was ever a case of corporate dictatorship... corporate triumph over individuals... this is it.

THE PROGRESSIVE MAGAZINE says in an editorial that Jones violated the terms of facebook’s agreement and “even if he didn’t, facebook is a private company and can change the rules any time.” This is THE PROGRESSIVE… previously one of the most out-spoken voices for the rights of THE PUBLIC over the rights of THE CORPORATION.

This attitude is NOT progressive. This is Donald Trump saying the right of corporations to pollute is more important that the right of individuals to breathe clean air. It’s Hobby Lobby denying contraceptives to its employees, saying the rights of the company bosses are more important than the rights of their employees. They signed a contract. If they don’t like it, they can work somewhere else.

Hobby Lobby was 4 years ago. Liberals were up in (non-lethal) arms. Then, in 2018, in a kerpow moment, those same liberals have turned themselves upside down and opened their mouths to taste the piss of corporatism…. and they love it. Alex Jones banned simultaneously from facebook, Apple and YouTube.

“How can they do this?” I ask.

“They’re a corporation. They make the rules. They can do what they want,” comes the answer-- from the liberals! Can you say WHITES ONLY?

But wait… there’s more.

In the days of white terrorism, the Ku Klux Klan wore white hoods to cover their identity when they terrorized Negroes, Jews, (sometimes) Catholics. They knew what they were doing was illegal, certainly violent, probably immoral.

These days, the only time you’ll see a klansman in a hood is in cartoons in “progressive” magazines.

Who wears the hoods in 2018? Who tries to hide their identity knowing that what they are doing is illegal, certainly violent, probably immoral. Is that a cross burning behind that guy? It might as well be one.

Had enough? Tough shit! There’s more.

Flash to 1950.

“I have here in my hand,” says Joseph McCarthy, “ a list of two hundred and five people that were known to the Secretary of State as being members of the Communist Party” shills for a dangerous Russia.

Russia was the bad guy. Those associated with it were bad. People were black-listed. Hollywood wouldn’t hire “Communists.” In order to get any work at all, Russia-lovers had to use assumed names to hide their identity.

Last month I wrote about how these former Russia lovers and CIA/FBI haters have suddenly turned into their upside down counterparts and now HATE Russia and love the CIA/FBI. But there’s more...

These days, actors still get black-listed, thrown off their programs… censored for their political beliefs or past sexual history. Roseanne Barr loses her job in a day, for a few words on Twitter. Kevin Spacey gets digitally edited out of a movie he was to star in. And the same political leaning that was the VICTIM of blacklisting, now applauds it. Upside down!

Yeah, there’s even more, but I need to stop now… my brain hurts… I probably should hoist myself back up by my ankles and let the blood rush to my head. It’ll give me the perspective needed to function in America in 2018.

-end-

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or 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. Subscribe to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-→Speaking of Antifa dept: During protests in Portland Oregon, one anti-Trump protester carried an American flag to show that he thought that it was patriotic to protest the president. Well, that didn’t sit well with the Antifa crew… one of whom beat the guy and put him in the hospital. In an exchange after the event, an Antifa member said, “Well, at least we didn’t kill him.”

-→Make Canada Great Again dept: Meanwhile, a manager at the Stanley Park Teahouse in Vancouver Canada was fired because he refused service to someone wearing a M.A.G.A. hat. The company said they fired the guy because he acted in a way violating the company’s philosophy of tolerance. 10 punk points to the company.

In America they’d be boycotted. If there’s one thing the current crop of left-totalitarians can’t tolerate… it’s tolerance.

-->Something for tolerance dept: Seems like the anti-Muslimites are always finding quotes to bolster their opinions. So I offer this one: Beware! Whoever is cruel and hard on a non-Muslim minority, or curtails their rights, or burdens them with more than they can bear, or takes anything from them against their free will; I (Prophet Muhammad) will complain against the person on the Day of Judgment. (from the Hadiths)

Put that in your Islamaphobic pipe and smoke it.

-end-

LINK TRADE DEPARTMENT:

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. I add you. You add me.

Here's a start:

• David Goldberg's Busy Microbes Blog
• And another Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com
• I post a blog for Kyle Nonnemon, in prison for a ton of shit. He's a smart guy, with a passion for industrial metal and a general detestation of humankind. You can read his blog at: apothelema.blogspot.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.
• Andy Shelton has an interesting blog here.
• Savage Hippie is a guy who has been YouTubing for a long time. Our opinions largely overlap... but he complains that I'm a Communist. I'm not! I'm a communist.
• Chris Stecher publishes a zine called PRECIS. You can see the back issue links there... and he promises a new issue soon.
• George Fertakis has a very nice graphics-heavy blog... with music and books featured prominently.
• And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

CONTACT REDUX: You can contact me on facebook or 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. Subscribe to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com.

How To Say YES or Mykel's Post MRR Blog #26

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The Santa Death March aka Mykel's Post-MRR Column Number 17

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMNS

Column 17

by Mykel Board

"always have the police on your side...one of the things you learn in the mazes of life.” Louis-Ferdinand Céline

ARRRR-ARRRR-AH-AAAARRRR, screams “the rooster” in my talking alarm clock. THE TIME IS TEN THIRTY. I slap for the off button...WHACK... I miss it. ARRRR-ARRRR-AH-AAA, it screams again... WHACK! Got it! Caught in mid-caw.

Body point by body point... the muscle pains from yesterday's half-hour at the gym return. Back, neck, calf, thigh... Rumble by rumble, the beer from last night's Peculiar Pub adventure returns. Stomach to small intestine to large intestine to colon... pushing against the sphincter with a pain more intense than my need to sleep. Synapse by synapse, I remember that it's Saturday... a day off... a day of rest... and then...

Fuck! The second Saturday in December. A day worse than Christmas... worse than Independence Day... worse than any flag-waving, death-loving day that passes for a holiday in the United States. Memorial Day, Patriot's Day, Columbus Day, Lincoln's Birthday for God's sake... all the horrible holidays pale in comparison to this second Saturday.... SANTACON.

In 2013 The Village Voice writes, “SantaCon was a day-long spectacle of public inebriation somewhere between a low-rent Mardi Gras and a drunken fraternity party.” That was an insult to Mardi Gras. Wikipedia tells me that SantaCon started as an art project... and grew out of a Danish group that took toys from store shelves and handed them to kids as Christmas gifts... leaving it up to the store managers to pry the gifts from the crying kids' hands. A nice metaphor for capitalism... and one worth imitating.

But the American version, of course, lost its politics and became a drunken frat party. The skimpy Santa dresses worn by big-boobed girl Santas do not compensate for the trail of macho-man-shouting-girl-piss-screaming-pukesters that make the holiday unbearable... and they start at 10AM!! Santacon: a good argument against gun control.

FLASH TO FERGUSON MISSOURI: A grand jury refuses to indict a cop who shoots an unarmed black guy. The victim raises his hands and says DON'T SHOOT! After the shooting, ABC News pays the cop half a million dollars for an exclusive (rehearsed with acting lessons, paid for by the MO cops) interview about how he felt threatened by the unarmed man and IT WAS HIM OR ME!

FLASH TO NEW YORK CITY: A grand jury refuses to indict a cop who strangles a guy for selling loose cigarettes on the street. This, the result of Police Commissioner Bill Bratton's BROKEN WINDOW policy, where crimes like simple drug use or graffiti are more important than murder or the white collar theft of millions. The grand jury refuses to indict the cop although the victim is videotaped hissing I CAN'T BREATHE eleven times before he dies. The man who takes the video is himself arrested by other cops. He is not killed... yet.

FLASH TO CLEVELAND OHIO: A cop shoots a 12 year old brandishing a water pistol. Jury indictment results unknown.

BACK TO MY APARTMENT IN NEW YORK: My phone vibrates. It's an SMS from Jody:

Mykel, are you going to the march against police violence? It leaves after a rally in Washington Square Park. Moves out at 2.

Shit! I had planned NOT to go out today... I don't want to face those Santas. But these murders are just too much. I gotta put up or shut up... and I'm not one to shut up.

I stumble into the bathroom... evacuate last night's Yuengling... brush my teeth... put on my Russian navy coat and detective hat... walk over to meet Jody and go to the park. It's packed.

And what a mix! There's someone giving out leaflets from the Revolutionary Something-or-Other Party... a bunch of white college-agers with bad taste in headwear... colored young people... colored old people... signs galore, most with #blacklivesmatter someplace on them.

A lot of the signs look professional. Corporate printing with boring designs... mass produced:

STOP POLICE BRUTALITY AND MURDER or LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL. Not very exciting...

One Middle Eastern-looking guy has a sign that's more a manifesto... it takes me awhile to read it all:

Down with the racist police who kill Blacks and Latinos in America And down with Barack Obama Police Chief of the world who kills more innocent people in the Middle East with his bombs and drone missiles #Arabslivesmattertoo

I wonder if everyone being systematically killed has his own hashtag. I also wonder if, given the liberal/leftist tendency to attack each other, there's going to be a fight... or several of them. Wait, here's a guy in a yarmulke... holding up a sign... maybe something suitably anti-Arab?

I'm (pleasantly) surprised. His sign says I CAN breathe, and when I do I smell racist injustice.

Oh yeah.

The best thing about this crowd is that THERE ARE NO SANTAS!!! Not one! No red-pants fratboys, walking through the crowd with dripping cans of Bud! Yowsah!

“Hey,” I tell Jody, “the crowd is thinning.”

“Look!” she says pointing to the arch. “They're leaving, walking up Fifth Avenue. The march has begun.”

“Follow me!” I yell, like Custer leading the charge against the Indians. “Full speed ahead!”

We shoulder our way through the mass of masses. Little kids in strollers... black teens in hooded sweatshirts... a gray-haired man walking arm-in-arm with his gray-haired wife... both serious and organically thin.

STOP: Before we go any further, I want to give you my take on all this police stuff.

Imagine you're on a grand jury. You're white... your friends are white... the cops are white... which side are you on? Vote to indict a cop... and your ass is an extremely well-mowed lawn. The DA, who needs the cops for his job, is the guy “presenting the evidence against the police.” I'd have voted the same as those grand juries. You can bet your grassless ass I'm not going to indict a cop. I gotta live here!

The problem is not this or that jury or this or that town-- or even this or that cop... but the jury system itself. The system of PEERS... the openness... the possibilities of revenge... retaliation. In New York, the guy who videotapes a cop murdering a man for selling illegal cigarettes... is arrested by other cops. Can you imagine what would happen to someone who actually voted a cop guilty of murder? Who's gonna trust the courts? The jury system? Not me. Make something up... sneeze... anything.. I'll vote NOT GUILTY!

It's illegal to advocate rioting or destruction, so I won't. If it WERE legal, I might say DO IT! Right now, the police get away with murder. The consequences are a few days in court, and then the life of Riley. But, what would happen if every time a cop killed an unarmed black guy, a bank got burned down? Or a different cop got shot? Murders by cops would have consequences-- real consequences-- that might have the deterrent effect the law is SUPPOSED to have. No grand juries on this one. You shoot LeRoy and BLAM, good-bye Starsky and Hutch.

Of course, I'm not saying people SHOULD do this. I'm just asking what would happen IF.

Extra Note: All cops are not murderers (though a code of silence^® makes all cops accomplices). There are cops who enter the force for idealistic reasons... who really expect to help people... who have a view that the world would be a more dangerous place without them. During the World Trade Center aftermath, the compassion, spirit, and volunteerism of all the police was a testament to their basic decency. Cops are not good or bad. They're mixed-- like everyone else. Sometimes one aspect wins, sometimes another. The focus shouldn't be on these cops, but on a grand jury system that makes it nearly impossible to bring ANY cops to trial. That's what's got to change. In the meantime, all consequences for police actions now take place OUTSIDE the realm of trials and grand juries. The consequences are on the streets.

BACK TO WASHINGTON SQUARE: Jody and I shoulder our way through the crowd... past an NYPD ARE THE BROKEN WINDOWS sign and another that says:

Number of Americans killed by:

Isis 5

Ebola 2

Police 500

A not-bad sign shows some understanding of how things are rigged to prevent indictments: The system isn't broken... it's working.

Not a Santa in the crowd. And hey... look at that! Someone gets it right. A woman with a hand-drawn sign: We must change the law-- no grand jury.

Yeah! Now all we need is a little humor and we've got it.

“Mykel,” Jody tells me, “you can't expect humor. Those guys were murdered... You can't laugh at that.”

“George W killed a million people in Iraq,” I say. “And THAT'S funny... I can laugh at anything!”

She frowns.

By now we're through the arch on to Fifth Avenue.

HANDS UP! shouts a skinny white girl with a very semitic nose.

DON'T SHOOT! answers the crowd.

HANDS UP! she repeats.

DON'T SHOOT! answers the crowd.

This goes on for the next half a dozen blocks until someone I can't see begins shouting.

I CAN'T BREATHE, he says, sounding quite accustomed to chant leading.

ONE! answers the crowd.

I CAN'T BREATHE, comes the repeat.

TWO! answers the crowd.

This goes up to ELEVEN.

Then there's an older black guy with a hint of gray-streaked beard. He's holding a generic #blacklivesmatter sign. He shouts, NO JUSTICE

NO PEACE, shouts back the crowd.

NO JUSTICE, again.

NO PEACE, again.

“I don't get it,” I tell Jody. “This is a march up Sixth Avenue and down Fifth Avenue. There's a permit. Nobody is breaking any windows. Nobody is burning police cars. Nobody is even stepping out of the parade route. Where is the NO part of NO PEACE? It looks pretty peaceful to me.”

“It's just a slogan, Mykel,” she answers.

A groups starts chanting THE NYPD IS THE KKK!

A few of the crowd pick it up. I look at the cops on the sides of the march. They're NOT in riot gear. No horses. No hostility. A few black cops... a few hispanics... a few women... a few black women. They're chatting with each other, guns safely holstered. They don't even look angry.

THE NYPD IS THE KKK! shout a few more people.

Since when did the KKK allow Negro and Hispanic members? The NYPD may be Wall Street, but it's not the KKK.

Uh oh, here it comes, a flash of red. My Santa-free Santacon is over.... at a protest march. This is just wrong!

Three big guys in Santa suits-- one of 'em colored. They appear to be sober. The colored guy moves to the front of the march... raises his hands... DON'T SHOOT! he says.

Yes! That's what I've been waiting for. A colored Santa.. hands raised saying DON'T SHOOT.... THAT'S funny. The whole idea of cops shooting Santa is funny. Cops shooting a colored Santa is funnier. SantaCon has done good for once.

The parade turns on thirty-second street, goes over to Fifth Avenue and starts going downtown again.

“I made my statement,” I tell Jody. “Now I need a beer.”

She suggests Old Town Tavern near Union Square. We split from the Parade at 20^th Street... walk East and have a couple of Edelstoffs. We sit among the Santa-less tourists in the place. The two of us share a burger and something else. Jody pays for it all. After beer and lunch-- at least 45 minutes-- we go out again. The march is still moving down the avenue.

We join it again... for a few more blocks. The newspapers will say 25,000... seems to me it's a lot more. Near Union Square is a guy dressed in an American Flag. He wears an American Flag kerchief around his mouth and nose. The skin that shows above the kerchief is light brown. His sign: USA Your racist hypocritical judicial system must be changed. 

Ah, someone else who gets it... now if only he could just make it funnier.

POSTSCRIPT: Who wudda thunk it? Four guys attack cops with a flying garbage can. There's a manhunt. Somehow, when police kill unarmed black guys, that's not indictable... but let a garbage can fly... hoooey!! I was just gonna add that to this post when:

TWO COPS ARE KILLED WHILE SITTING IN THEIR POLICE CAR. The alleged killer allegedly killed himself in a nearby subway station... denying a cycle of revenge that may start anyway. Nadav, a pal of mine who works in the emergency room here in NYC, was assaulted by cops when he tried to enter his workplace. It was the hospital where the ambulance took the just-shot police. I guess they attacked Nadav because he looks Middle Eastern. (He's Israeli.) But the cops must've been in a state of shock... where ANYBODY looks like the enemy. 

The police clearly are on an easy tripswitch... high alert... and I'm having second thoughts. What if, instead of considering their actions, the police just gone on even MORE of shooting spree? What if revenge brings revenge... blacks and cops the 21^st century Hatfields and McCoys? I don't know.

On the other hand, if someone were to always provide consequences for police murdering unarmed people, it might make them think twice before they do it. Riots and bank burnings may be less likely to invite retaliation than cop shooting. Of course, I'm not advocating any of this, I'm just considering the IFs.

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]

-->Give it away dept: Ten different school districts in Texas have received free... or low-cost... gifts from the Pentagon. Including 64 M16-rifles, 18 M14 rifles, 25 automatic pistols and fifteen surplus military vehicles.

Ok, just try to come in here and hurt OUR kids! I dare ya!

-->Mohammad and the Mayflower dept: Justice Ray Moore of Alabama spoke at a "Pastors for Life" Luncheon. "Buddha didn't create us. Mohammed didn't create us, it was the God of the Holy Scriptures... They didn't bring the Koran over on the pilgrim ship."

-->You can see my... and Jody's photos of the march by clicking here.

->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 their (firing me as a) contribution to the world of censorship. Send your comments-- to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL! Let me know how they answer.

-->And: I'm on a massive clean-up/divest kick. I'm giving away DVDs, cassettes, VHS videos, CDs and a few 7-inch singles. Just pay separate shipping and handling. Details at: MykelsGiveaway

-end