The End of Homosexuality As We Know It or Mykel Board's Post MRR Column no. 31

Mykel's

Post MRR Column no 32

Why is it socially acceptable - as a form of entertainment - for men to put on dresses, make up and high heels and act out every offensive stereotype of women (bitchy, catty, dumb, slutty, etc.) -- but it is not socially acceptable -- as a form of entertainment - for a white person to put on blackface and act out offensive stereotypes of African Americans? --Mary Cheney, lesbian daughter of former Vice President Dick Cheney.

The End of Homosexuality As We Know It

by Mykel Board

It was a new LOH point... Late Onset Hangover... you know: you wake up. Everything's hunky dory... you la-dee-da through morning coffee, jerk off to old videos of yourself with the one who didn't get away, then POW! Headache... a feeling in your stomach like a greasy pork chop... every cough turns into a multicolored splotch on your sheets... Yesterday's dinner... dripping through your nose... gagging... groaning. You just know a neighbor is going to be pounding on the door... “Are you alright?”

Fuck! I promised myself I'd go to the gym today. I'm old. If I don't dance on some treadmill, I'll get a heart attack. If I don't pump some cables and chains, I'll get waddles. Ok, one last trip to the porcelain goddess. Then I go! It'll feel so good. Yeah, right.

I stumble into the locker room and head for a corner... a little cranny far from the main lockerfolks. I'm in no condition to put up with the sideways glances and smug chuckles that usually accompany my undressing. When I have my pants down to my knees, I notice someone standing just two lockers down. A chisel chinned young man with a smooth-- yet six-packless-- abdomen. Trying to keep my eyes front, I fail. Jeezus, this guy is smaller than me. His rutabaga doesn't even make it out of the pubes. Nothing.....

Then I see it. The crack, the folded skin, the elongated Y. Yes! This guy has a TWAT! You heard that right: a cunt, a pussy. Yes, I'm talking a hairy taco, a snatch, a beaver, a muff. 

 

Here, in the men's locker room. Next to me. I'm talking a slit, a box, a pud. I'm talking the first results of a citywide law prohibiting discrimination on “gender identification.” Hoooey!

FLASH TO THEORY: America is a homosexual society. Not the most homosexual of societies, but a lot homo-er than many. In Finland, for example, you're invited to the home of a casual acquaintance... WOMP! There you are, naked with the whole family... in the sauna... beating your new friend's naked parents with birch branches. Dangly parts shaking to each thwack.

“Have a drink?” asks your hostess, her pert breasts, breast-like in the soft sauna light.

In Finnish, they use the same pronoun, Hän, for both sexes. Talk about gender equality! Maybe it's related to Sauna culture... the ease of nudity. (Interestingly enough, in Japan, they hardly ever use pronouns at all-- Just the verb, thank you. And, until the Americans forced a separation after WWII, the Japanese traditionally bathed gender mixed in outdoor hot springs.)

In America, we have separate pronouns for men and women... and separate restrooms. At gyms, at public pools, in schools, we have different locker rooms: MEN and WOMEN each sex homo-ed with itself.

Go to a bowling alley, a bar, a football game... you see homotude up the wazoo. Boys’ night out or the girls just getting together. Guys hanging with each other, har-har-ing at talk about girls, but not actually mixing with girls. Girls chat or engage in screamfests-- with each other-- a homosexual world. The only time people spend in each other's company is either some part of the mating ritual... or the actual mating itself. Otherwise, it's homo, homo, homo.

Wait a minute, Mykel!

Who the fuck are you? And why are you using that font? You think you're God or something?

Stop playing games, Mykel. You know me. I AM God.

God? What the fuck are you doing in my column? Can't you leave me alone for once?

Mykel, Mykel, Mykel. I'm am GOD! Remember? I don't leave anyone alone.

I concede.

“Okay,” I say. “What do you want this time?”

I'm just butting in to remind you. You're forgetting someone... some ones actually.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

Gay men, says God, I'm talking about gay men. Their best friends are girls. They go shopping with girls. They talk about cooking with girls. They hang out with girls. The only time they hang out with guys is in the mating ritual... or in the actual mating itself.

“Hey,” I say, “you're stealing my lines.”

God laughs... a terrifyingly awful... dare I say satanic... laugh.

But when God's right, God's right.

“When you're right, you're right,” I say. “The only people in American who are not homosexual are gay men.”

But the trannie laws could change all that. They could destroy homosexual society as we know it.

FLASH TO THE CARMINE ST. PUBLIC POOL, WOMEN'S LOCKER ROOM 2016: Little Ashley Goldstein is there for the first time. Her mom, Bethany, took a floor tier locker so she could be right next to her daughter. Ashley, ever the curious kindergartner, can't take her eyes off all the naked people.

“Mommy,” she asks, pointing, “when I grow up will I have hair down there like that lady?”

“Shhhhh,” says Bethany, grabbing her daughter's finger, and curling it from a point to a fist. “It isn't polite to point.”

“But will I mommy... will I?”

“Keep your voice down,” says Bethany. “You'll embarrass people... And yes, you'll have hair down there too.”

“And will I have big breasts, like that woman?” asks little Ashley... again pointing.

“Don't point!” says Mom. “And it's different for every girl, but you will develop. We talked about that. That's what happens to girls. When you get to the right age we'll talk about it some more.”

“And will I have those round, hanging things... and a floppy?” ask Ashley. “Like that lady?”

Bethany looks up, startled. A scream catches in her throat.

“That's a man,” she whispers.

No it's not and... Welcome to 2016!

What's a man anyway? Who decides?

I say, it's like buying a car.

“I only buy Ford products,” you say. “I buy American.”

“Stuff your Mexican-made Ford up your chocolate starfish,” I reply. “My Honda comes from Alabama.”

An American Car has no meaning-- no relationship to its place of origin or the nationality of those who put on its fenders. An American Car is anything it wants to be.

The word MAN will lose itself the same way. No relation to the glands between your legs or the glans that covers them. WOMAN will be a label pasted on whoever wants to wear it. Why have Men's or Women's locker rooms? Why enforce homosexuality in a world that's quickly losing it?

FLASH TO A LOCKER ROOM 2025. In 2025, there's only ONE locker room-- for everybody.

Same scenario up to:

“And will I have big breasts, like that woman?” asks little Ashley... again pointing.

“Don't point!” says Mom. “And it's different for every girl, but you will develop.... We talked about that. That's what happens to girls. When you get to the right age we'll talk about it some more.”

“And will I have those round, hanging things... and a floppy?” ask Ashley. “Like that lady?”

“It's up to you,” says Mom. “If you're grown up and decide you want them... you can have them. Some girls do and some girls don't.”

“How will I know?” asks Ashley.

“You'll know,” explains Mom. “When it's time, you'll know.”

Get it? It'll be the end of homosexuality. No more men's or lady's restrooms. No more men's or lady's locker rooms. At the beach, toplessness... for everybody. Who knows? Maybe the whole shebang... for everyone!

People will chose their friends, social partners and their sex partners on types, characteristics, personality, hair color. Homosexuality will disappear because homo will disappear. Too bad I won't be around to see it. Sounds like fun.

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]

-->It was in the cards dept: Livingston Parish (county) in Louisiana has repealed a law prohibiting "fortunetelling and soothsaying." The ordinance was challenged by local resident Cliff Eakin, a Wiccan who believed the ban violated his religious freedom. Talking about the future... and foretelling the future are an integral part of the Wiccan religion.

A Louisiana district judge agreed, saying the law was “unconstitutionally vague.”

I predict we haven't seen the end of this case.

-->Another prediction dept: I write this the day after the Brussels attack. And here's my soothsaying:

Prediction: After Brussels, instead of learning a lesson... NATO will harden its line, kill more people, make more terrorists and this will happen again and again. This is NOT a war where you can go to a country and just drop drones on people. Those people are living next door. Are you going to drone yourself? The proper response to killing people is to STOP killing people. The only ones who benefit from all this are the drone-makers. We never learn.

-->Two for the price of truth dept: The Cincinnati Municipal Zoo cut ties with a "creationist museum" in nearby Kentucky. The original plan was to offer two-for-the-price-of-one tickets to special Christmas shows at each venue. The deal was stopped in response to a boycott and facebook campaign against the zoo. The two-ticket plan lasted for exactly three days.

Of course, the creationist president was pissed off.

“It’s a pity that intolerant people have pushed for our expulsion simply because of our Christian faith,” he said.

No word if the museum will now seek ties with the Louisiana Wiccans.

-->Y tu madre tambien dept: According to TheGuardian.com, the US now has the second-highest number of Spanish speakers in the world, nearly 53 million of 'em. Spain, by the way, has a population of 46 million. So we've got 'em beat.

Colombia is third with 48 million. Mexico, of course, is first with 121 million gente... all of whom are welcome to sleep on my floor... and many of whom have already done so.

-->God finally gets some dept: The credit rating company Equifax is finally recognizing God. God Gazarov of Brooklyn, that is. The guy fought with the company for five years, but it refused to include his name in its database. They probably thought it was religiously offensive.

Finally, the money giant relented and now God can take out a loan and get a credit card like everybody else. Mazel Tov!

-->Too Political dept: Zazzle.com, an internet retailer, sells, among other things "custom postage." It's a service that allows customers to design their own stamps-- usable in the U.S. mail.

"Cruz for President 2016," has been, unfortunately, a popular one. But we gotta respect them. After all, free speech is free speech, right?

Yeah, right.

An anti-corporate stamp was designed by artist Anatol Zukerman. It said, "Democracy Is Not for Sale." It was rejected by Zazzle.
The reason? "It's too political.”

--> 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.

-end-

Let's Talk Race or Mykel's Post MRR Blog #25

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMN 25

Let's Talk About Race

by Mykel Board

"We had grown up believing white to be the color of all the important things , like ice cream, aspirin, ribbon, the moon, the stars.” – Lloyd Jones

I'm happier than a young feminist firing an old Jew. Let's Talk About Race... the new fashionable topic... right up my alley... I talk about it often, but it never gets the attention it deserves. 

Race's kissin' cousin IMMIGRATION is getting a lot of cyber ink lately, especially thanks to Donny Trump. I'm gonna talk about that too.

The SCENE: You have a medium-priced apartment in a low rent part of the city. Yeah, it's far from downtown, but it'll do. There's a bodega down the block... beer and chicharones. There's a bar on the corner where they know you by name and pour out that pint of Yuengling when you walk in the door. It's a place you can live.

A truck pulls up to the next building... a moving van. You lean out your window to check on the action. Behind the van is a big black SUV. A Negress, hair done up in a bright-colored headscarf-- wearing a matching dress-- slides heavily out of the passenger seat. She opens the back door. Four screaming little black kids-- two of each gender-- pile out onto the street. A very proper-looking colored gentleman is the last to leave the car... from the driver's seat. Wearing a black suit, with a stiff white shirt and tie, he puts his hands on his hips and bends back to look at the building.

You think, “Yes!! Safe!!”

When colored people (or Mexicans) move into a neighborhood, what do people think? "FUCK, it won't be long before I can't live here anymore? It'll be too expensive. All the shops I know... my friends... NOBODY will be able to stay. Rents will go up like penises at a strip club. Food will go up. I'll be forced out."

I don't think so. That's not gonna happen.

But let some white bearded guy, with too skinny jeans and a topknot, move in and... it's the end! Next come the organic bakery, the hipster hat shop, and STARBUCKS! Let's get this clear. White people make neighborhoods unlivable. There, I said it.

Little known fact: except for Godfather's Pizza (and I'm not sure if that qualifies), every fast-food chain in America has been started by and presided over by a whiteguy. But walk into one of those restaurants and see who is actually doing the work. It sure ain't white guys. The ones MAKING, SELLING, CLEANING UP, are not white! White people don't work. They sit there and OWN... that's it. White people wouldn't know how to work if you paid them... and you do!

Take my local bank... please! I walk in and a black guy greets me at the desk. I walk past him... up to the Indian woman behind the safety glass... ask her how much money I have left. Not a white guy in sight! But my credit card late fees are NOT paying these guys... the guys who are actually working. They're paying some white gym bunny to sit on his ass and watch internet porn in between NASDAQ trades. THAT IS NOT WORK.

Those knee-jerk defenders of white people talk about crime. They talk about black on white crime... black on black crime. They talk as if reducing the number of pickpockets and dope smokers was REDUCING CRIME.

White-guy supreme, Rudy Giuliani, brags about REDUCING CRIME in New York during his regime. He brags that the city has become safer because of his war on Negroes.

Let's get this straight: GUILIANI did NOT reduce crime in New York. He reduced crime STATISTICS. While he was gathering up homeless people and shipping them off to Camden or Newark, there were a bunch of white guys at Citibank and Chase, committing crime after crime. They were stealing from bank customers, defrauding homeowners, MAKING people homeless. Eventually the feds stepped in and made the banks pay billions in fines. Unlike the single-joint marijuana smoker under Mayor G... none of the white people went to jail. Jail isn't for white people.

Clearly more people were hurt by the banking crimes of (mostly) white guys, than by any Negro stealing a hubcap in the South Bronx. But for Mayor G... That ain't a crime.

Want to limit crime? Then make some laws. It's not Broken Windows that are the problem, but Louvered French Windows. My proposal for the first new law under President Sanders: Establish a MAXIMUM PERSONAL WEALTH. If you have ten billion dollars, you don't need ELEVEN billion dollars. Come on white guys... give it up.

The rich are destroying America. They make prices go up, buy up real estate, force people out of their homes. Wealth creates poverty. If you have money, go away... leave... NOW! Move to Russia. I don't care, but don't buy up The United States. Live in Beverly Hills if you want, just don't move to my neighborhood.

As long are there are rich people, crime will not end in America.

FLASH TO IMMIGRATION:

What about immigration? It's related to race because every immigrant to the US belongs to some race or other. I say Donny Trump has the right idea: A WALL. I wish! But we can't build a wall where it really belongs... in the North Atlantic. We need a flotilla!

Yes! I'm talking about EUROPEANS. 

In 2010 there were almost 5 million European immigrants in the US... enough to populate every hipster hair salon in New York... for a year! These were only the official ones... the ones in the records. Millions more came on tourist visas... and... er... forgot to leave. And the legal ones? Many of them work in “higher-skilled occupations.” (This from immigrationpolicy.org.)

You know what that means? NON-WORK. They diddle away at banks and IT companies, getting incredible salaries for making ONES and ZEROS... pushing numbers from one computer to another... doing NOTHING that will make your life-- or the life of anyone you know-- better.

How do so many Europeans enter the US? EASY! All they have to do is register on-line, show a passport and POW! They're in. Do we stop the ones ready to drop puppies? Anchor babies for French or Germans or Brits? You bet we don't. They'll be Americans... little European-Americans ready to make space to bring their parents and who knows what other Daddy Warbucks over here.

Let's make this clear. I have nothing against immigrants... if they qualify as REAL IMMIGRANTS. What does it take to qualify? The answer is built right into the statue of liberty, composed by Jewess, Emma Lazarus:

Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me

That doesn't mean investors, property owners, millionaires, bankers. Huddled masses are not bearded IT execs. Wretched refuse doesn't refer to insurance actuaries, or suits with a summer villa in The Hamptons. Poor! Get it? Homeless! Understand? Take your bankroll and spend it elsewhere. Please!

If I were President Trump, I'd add a few more requirements to the ones listed on Ms. Liberty. (Not many-- I think the lady got it mostly right.)

Extra Requirement One: Immigrants must have REAL JOB SKILLS: carpentry, roadwork, restaurant bussing. Things involving people, tangible things, services everybody can use. "Creating a lunch-break scheduling app" is NOT a REAL JOB SKILL.

Extra Requirement Two: Immigrants must speak Spanish. MOST of the Western Hemisphere speaks Spanish. People spoke Spanish in America before they spoke English. Europe is a hodgepodge of languages. Walk ten miles and people speak something else. For the sake of a unified hemisphere, EVERYONE should be able to speak Spanish. At least we can make sure our NEW AMERICANS can do that.

Look, I don't want to blame Europeans for the accident of their birth. They can't help it. And if they want to visit the US, I have no problem with that... though I'd insert a microchip under the skin to make sure they don't overstay their welcome.

In Montana, we could make a EUROTOWN. Move all those $700 a night hotels, those ridiculous Fendi and Coach shops... those $300 a dinner hoity-toidy restaurants hosted by celebrity chefs from the Food Network... Put 'em there. Europeans-only hotels, where for $700 a night, the white travelers could have a bed, a bathroom, and a souvenir bar of Ivory Soap at their jacuzzi.

Meanwhile, in real cities, we take back real estate for bodegas and taquerias. Open a bikini bar or punkrock club. Have a thrift shop. Make the city a place to live again.

Yeah, buckaroos, let's talk about race and immigration. There's a lot that needs to be said.

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]

-->Kiss this dept: A study by anthropologists at the University of Nevada and Indiana University surveyed 168 cultural groups and found that only 46% "kiss in a romantic or erotic way." Among those kissless groups are many countries in Black Africa, New Guinea and the Amazon. Some Pacific cultures have fake kisses involving "passing mouths over each other without making contact. What's with the lack of eating face?

"Some of these people never go to the dentist," says William Jankowiak, one of the study authors, "They never brush their teeth."

-->Tarred prayers dept: Mayor Tony Tarber of Jackson Mississippi has a solution to the city's pothole problem. With repair estimates at $743 million, Mayor Tarber offers a cheaper solution.

"Yes, I believe we can pray potholes away," he tweeted. "Moses prayed, and a sea opened."

–> What's in a label dept: This from Utne Reader:

There are over 300 different eco-labels on packaging. Those that rank with "virtually meaningless" include HYPOALLERGENIC; the word is a creation of cosmetics advertisers in the 1950s.

FRAGRANCE FREE merely indicates that a product doesn't have a conspicuous scent, substances that cover up or neutralize odors can still be present.

A product labeled NON-TOXIC "won't kill your kids if they ingest it, but still might contain chemicals that can cause serious health problems.

More: BIODEGRADABLE has no enforcement nor clear definition. The manufacturer is free to decide what exactly NO ADDITIVES means.HORMONE FREE has no legal standing and can be used on beef even if it contains hormones such as testosterone. NATURAL, CRUELTY FREE and FREE RANGE, all have no legal meaning and can be applied at the manufacturers' discretion.

The label CORPORATE SCUM, while usually not found on packaged goods, has, on the other hand, a clearly defined and identifiable meaning.

-->Long overdue dept: Sid Yiddish reminded me that I should thank my friends at PORK magazine in Portland for printing some of my columns. They're quarterly, so they can only do one out of four... but THAT'S a big help. Thanks guys. It takes balls.

-->Keeping the Pressure on Dept: And on the side of the ball-less... take Maximum Rock'n'Roll... please!

I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a continuing Bring Back Mykel effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll for censoring me. 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.

-->Happy 5776 dept: I had a nice Rosh Hashanah dinner with friends, including Mr. & Mrs. George Tabb. George is another veteran writer recently canned from MRR.
“Every columnist there now is a transsexual feminist,” he told me.

“What about Lefty Hooligan?” I asked. “You know, the old guy-- a goy-- willing to sell his father to keep his column.”

“It's Leftisha Hooligan, now,” he answers. “Didn't you know?”

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

=end=

US and THEM or Mykel's Post MRR Column 23

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMNS

POST MRR COUMN 23

Mykel Divides the World

by Mykel Board

At one extreme, a person might step into a social identity and BE it. Another might step into the same one and surprise you because they struggle against it or play it down in light of their unique biography. --Michael Agar

Ah, finally, he's here... visiting from Morocco... my pal El Habib. We met in Agadir, a city on the North African coast. He's coming to New York. In Agadir, he took me all over the place... cooked for me... great guy. All he gets in return is my couch.

When he told me he was visiting in July, it hit.

“Uh...” I profoundly start my email. “That's Ramadan. Isn't it going to be tough for you to hang out and not eat? In New York... in America... everything goes around eating and drinking... all day... every day. Ramadan? Most Americans think Ramadan is a city in India.”

He sends me back one of those laughing “stickers” that facebook uses to disgust readers.

“I'm tired of Moroccan culture,” he says. “I'm tired of Islam. I'm sick and tired of the whole thing. Let's eat!”

“What about drinking? Are you gonna drink alcohol?” I ask.

“Mykel, I'm gonna get drunk with you!” He says.

There is no facebook sticker with a grin wide enough to react. I love drinking with Muslims as much as I like eating ham with Jews... and that's a lot.

The plane was due at 3:30. I figure it'll take an hour to get through immigration. They won't know he isn't celebrating Ramadan. Then, if he comes by subway, that'd be another hour. He should have rung my doorbell around 5:30... It's coming on seven... no sign of him.

BEEP BEEP... the doorbell!

I buzz him in... take the elevator downstairs to meet him.

He's there... in the lobby... with someone else... two someone elses... each with a huge backpack... and instruments... a large conga drum... animal skin, Senegalese style, a guitar, and bags... half a dozen of 'em... two as big as my stove. They're all staying here... in my tiny apartment. We squeeze into the elevator and I reach around to push the button.

My apartment is now so crowded I have walk ON suitcases to get from the couch to the bathroom. The drummer sets up the drum in the only 2 square foot open space. It's the table for their stay.

“Hey guys,” I say. “I want the perfect photo. Mykel and 3 Arabs eating pork together. You up for it?”

They look at each other. I wonder if I went too far. [ASIDE: Actually, I NEVER wonder if I go too far.]

“Mykel,” he says, “I guess you forgot. We're not Arabs. We're Amazighs. You might call us Berbers. We were in Africa BEFORE the Arabs... before the Muslims. We're the Indians of Morocco.”

“Okay, Chief,” I say. “Let's you and me drink the peace pipe and eat some pork belly. And what happened to the word Berbers?”

“We don't really like it,” says El Habib. “It comes from Latin. From the Romans... You know Barbarians. Anyone not Roman was a Barbarian.”

“I see,” I tell him. “It's like Goyim.”

He doesn't get it.

One of the guys... the guitar player... speaks up.

“I donno, Mykel,” he says. “I am a Berber, but my name is Mohammed. Don't you think I should change it? How far will I get in America with a name like Mohammed?”

“You should call yourself Osama,” I tell him.

He elbows me in the chest.

He gets it.

We have plans to meet later that night at Bar 13 where El Habib will read poems of The Beats that he's translated into Arabic. He'll also read some poems he's written directly in English.

FLASH TO THE CLUB: We're at the door. Ready to go in and Rock the Casbah to Allen Ginsberg with guitar and drum backing.

The doorman, a huge black doorman-looking guy, sits on a stool outside the bar. We approach... Me in arm boots and black jeans. The Berbers in shorts, with Moroccan equivalents of yarmulkes.

“Ok, fellas,” says the doorman. “I need to see your IDs.”

They stop... freeze. The color drains from their faces. They look at each other... then at me.

Habib whispers to me, “Is he speaking Amazigh?”

“Somehow I doubt it,” I tell him. “Most doormen come from the Bronx, not the Sahara. Just show him your ID.”

I reach for my wallet. The three of them are somewhat panicked, conversing in Berber.

“Is this the American way?” asks the guitar player.

“This is America,” I tell him. “Everything is ID, ID, ID.”

“It must have a different meaning in English,” he says, shaking his head. “Aidee in Berber... er... Amazigh... means penis.”

I share this information with the doorman. He laughs.

“He's right,” he tells the guitar player. “Everything in America is Aidee, Aidee, Aidee.”

Inside the bar, Habib greets the hostess.. a short Semitic-looking woman who hugs him on arrival.

“This is Sarah, I met her at the Kerouac school,” Habib tells me. “We've stayed in touch ever since. She runs these poetry things here.”

Sarah turns to me, gives me a big hug... like I'm a family member.

“I'm guessing you're a poet too,” she says to me.

“I'm not exactly a poet,” I say, “but a lot of people consider me some kind of artist.”

“Poet. Artist. It doesn't matter,” she says... exuding such a love of life... of enjoying every second... I nearly cum. “Any friend of Habib's is a friend of mine.”

Then she hugs me again. I cum.

FLASH TO TIMES SQUARE: There is a big black guy... Not very black... more bank clerk black than club bouncer black. He wears khaki pants, a gray t-shirt, black moccasins with no socks. In his left hand is a piece of thick white paper... oaktag. He holds it high. On it... written in thick marker... is:

JEWS FINANCED BLACK SLAVERY... GOOGLE IT!

At first I'm pissed off... then confused... wondering if FINANCED means something different in Negro than it means in English.

I know the history. Some Portuguese and a lot of Dutch-- through the Dutch East India Company-- funded most of the slave trade in the West. Some major backers of the D.E.I.C. were Jewish. That's who lent money to the corporation at the time.

BUT, the D.E.I.C. controlled the tea trade, the salt trade, the furniture trade. They were a TRADING company, for G-d's sake! Why not say THE DUTCH funded the slave trade? Or The Dutch East India Company funded the slave trade? My ancestors in Kiev had nothing to do with it.

FLASH TO AUSTIN TEXAS: I gotta take a piss. BEERLAND is living up to its name. Shiner Bock... almost makes up for G.W.B. Shiner's a great beer, but it does what beer does and I need to get rid of mine before the next round.

I stagger over to this very Texas-looking (blond, large and jiggly on top) girl. Brushing against her prominent-though-covered nipples I slur, “Air da mess oom?”

“Excuse me?” she says, stepping back a bit.

“Men's room?” I say forcing my mouth into proper linguistic position. “This is an emergency.”

She laughs. “This is Austin,” she says. “We don't do men's rooms.”

A trickle begins its decent down my leg.

FLASH TO THE NEWS: Austin has become the first city in America to legislate gender-free bathrooms. When you gotta go... you find a stall and go. That's it. No penis-bound division. Just go... just restrooms... just toilet... stand... sit... or hover... no one checks the danglies.

FLASH TO THE THEORETICAL: You probably get it by now. I'm writing about the way we divide up the world: us and them... Jews and goyim... Romans and Barbarians... gays and straights... men and women... trannies and cis-men. This division does not only come from our view of the world... it CREATES our view of the world.

Some Saudis and a couple of their buddies fly 747s into the World Trade Center. KAPLOW! Suddenly, they become ISLAMIC attackers. Not Saudis. How come?

Israel with several American Jewish volunteers kill thousands of Palestinians in Gaza. The attack was an ISRAELI attack, not a JEWISH attack. How come?

Homosexuals try to show scientific evidence they “are born that way.” What way? Every time a new sex or gender group defines itself, another letter gets added to the LBGTQ alphabet soup, expanding US, but not changing the whole view of US vs THEM.

I'm a Jew, a writer, a punk-rocker, a social libertarian, a contrarian, a pansexual, a short old bald guy with a bad hair transplant. No, that's wrong. I'm NOT a (fill in the blank). I DO (fill in the blank). I write. I shit. I fuck when I can, jerk off otherwise. I fast on Yom Kippur and don't eat bread on Passover.

I want to suggest a wee change to the paradigm... I mean a WE change. It's about how WE divide the world. It's about how WE see US and THEM. It's about how there is only US. THEM is a myth... an artificial arbitrary result of picking a few characteristics and using those to draw a line between US and THEM. It's about identity politics... where the politics should be about erasing identity.

Humanity is a hodgepodge of individual characteristics, tastes, genders, religions, skin colors. There is only US.

White Pride, Black Pride, Islamism, Jewish Nationhood... they're all dangerous divisions that come from dividing up the world in into US and THEM. Take down those MEN and WOMEN signs from the toilet world. Learn that THE JEWS (White People, Africans, Germans, The Arabs) didn't do anything-- good or bad. PEOPLE did things. And that's all the dividing we need.

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]

-->Free means you don't pay dept: 11-year old Margaleet Katzenblickstein in Weston MA applied for a permit to hold a rally against the police murders of unarmed colored people. The police of that town said she needed to pay a hundred dollars (a couple hundred according to other reports) for the police presence at the demonstration.

Amazingly enough, the town declined the police request for cash and allowed her to hold the demonstration without charge... though I wouldn't want to be little Margaleet walking through the city on her own on a dark night. Look at what happened (6th arrest!) to the NY good citizen who filmed the police murder of Eric Garner.

-->Compassion trumps religion dept: This is the way it should be! Harman Singh, a Sikh student in Auckland New Zealand took off his turban (something forbidden by Sikh law) to aid a 5-year old who had been hit by a car. He tucked the turban under the child's head to help him ease the pain. That's the kind of US I've been talking about in this column.

-->Productive dept: Representative Steve La Tourette announced his retirement from congress by saying, “I'll go back and find something productive to do with my life... as opposed to the last eighteen years.”

Three days after that announcement, he joined a lobbying firm based in Washington DC.

-->It was on Fox News so it must be true dept: Thanks to D Keith Dobson Jr. for this Fox News Denver report: A Chinese man successfully sued his wife over “an extremely ugly baby girl.”

Jian Feng filed the lawsuit after his wife gave birth to the girl. Why did he win? Apparently Feng’s wife underwent more than $100,000 in cosmetic surgery before they met and never told him. He said she tricked him into thinking she was beautiful.

Feng sued on the grounds of false pretenses and a judge agreed with him. The judge also ordered Feng’s wife to pay him $120,000.

Since Fox News reported this, Snopes has investigated and found it to be complete fiction.

Fox, reporting fictional News? Who wudda thunk it?

My question: When will the viewers of FOX NEWS sue for being made stupid-- on the grounds of false pretenses?

-->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 their contribution to the world of censorship. 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.

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

-end