YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. MYKEL'S JULY 2020 BLOG VOLUME 1 OR SACRIFICE by Mykel Board

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. 

MYKEL'S JULY 2020 BLOG

VOLUME 1

OR

SACRIFICE

by Mykel Board

Suffering ceases to be suffering in some way at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice. --Viktor E. Frankl

Love is not a feeling of happiness. Love is a willingness to sacrifice.

--Michael Novak

Humanitarianism consists in never sacrificing a human being to a purpose.
--Albert Schweitzer

The Aztecs use an intricate knife. Its wooden handle curls in on itself… so it bulges at the back, like a huge snail with its tail attached to the blade… and the blade… ah the blade. Not metal but stone… heavy, nearly a foot long… chipped to two razor sharp edges and a needle tip point.

Pan back from the knife. Up… up… up… until both pyramids… sun and moon come into sharp focus. Pan closer… Shift to the Sun Pyramid...Flat topped… 248 steps...base to the top. A priest waits at the top of the pyramid. At the bottom, hundreds of people gather. You might think it was an Apache pow-wow for all the feathers, though the blue and gold chest plates and loin cloths might make you wonder.

At the front of the crowd, a mother holds her daughter’s hand. The child, about 10 years old, looks up at her and speaks.

[I translate for readers who do not speak Aztec.]

“Mommy,” she says, “I’m scared.” Tears drip down the side of her face. Mother releases the girl’s hand to wipe away the tears.

“Don’t be frightened,” says Mother. “It’s a sublime thing you’re doing. You’re bringing us health, good harvest, a happy future. You’re doing great things for us. You should be proud, not scared.”

“It’s time,” says a man, dressed slightly different from the rest… more gold… with a headpiece that somehow looks Egyptian.

“Yes,” says the mother, “it’s time…. and remember it’s a beautiful thing you’re doing for all of us.”

Mother takes her daughter’s left hand with her right. Together they climb, step-by-step, the 242 steps of the pyramid. At the top, Mother brings her virgin daughter to a little wooden platform… constructed in the center of the flat space on the top of the pyramid.

“You must lie down now,” she says to the girl. “I will leave. The priest knows what to do. Remember... I love you. And you are doing a great thing.”

The little girl sniffs back a sob, clenches her teeth, and closes her eyes. Tears form under the closed eyes and drip down the sides of her head. She lies down.

The priest kneels next to the platform. He holds the stone knife in both hands.

At the base of the pyramid, people shout. “Huitzilopochtli! Huitzilopochtli! Accept our sacrifice. We love you! Grant us peace and good harvest.”

Hands open, the priest raises the knife toward the sky, as if showing it to God. Then he takes the handle in both hands, and, holding tightly, plunges it into the chest of the little girl.

She screams... a high horrible scream… a scream heard 247 steps below… as the blood flows from the girl’s chest down her sides… from the platform to the top of the pyramid.

The screams fade. The priest presses the knife back into the young girl and slices downward… opening a slit… in the girl’s belly.

He sets the knife next to him, directly on the pyramid. Then… he reaches both hands into the slit. Finding the heart, he pulls down, and pinches off the veins and arteries that attach the organ to the girl’s body. When free, he raises the severed heart above his head… letting the fresh blood drip onto his body.

“This is for you, Huitzilopochtli,” he shouts to the sky, “Thank you for keeping us. Let this blood of a virgin be our sacrifice to you. Preserve us for another year. Give us a good harvest and victory in battle. Thank you, God. You are our savior.”

The people at the base of the pyramid cheer…. Then become quiet…. They are satisfied.

Barbaric?

That’s what you think… waiting at the base of your own pyramid. There is something human that demands a sacrifice. Soldiers are praised for making “the ultimate sacrifice.” We are urged to self-sacrifice… the firefighters website says, Self-Sacrifice Is A Firefighter’s Oath.

Parents sacrifice their freedom for the sake of their children. Pedestrians wear masks that sacrifice their comfort (and maybe their individual health) for the sake of the community.

But how about sacrifices like the Aztec little girl? Certainly we don’t sacrifice human beings for some vague principle, right?

You bet your stone knife we do. Our court system… the entire idea of “justice” is based on human sacrifice. Do you think there was any way that Harvey Weinstein could have gotten an objective trial anywhere in America? An innocent verdict would have caused riots. I don’t know if he was guilty or not. It’s my guess… but only my guess… that his accusers saw one thing and he saw something else. That’s beside the point.

Even if he were as innocent of forcible rape as I am of the Kennedy assassination, he still would have been convicted. The gods (goddesses) of #metoo needed a human sacrifice. They needed someone… (actually some ones… I count Bill Cosby among their victims) to be slaughtered on the pyramid… someone for the public to see… someone to bring them good fortune in their future ventures. Guilt or innocence have nothing to do with it.

Before Weinstein… before most of my readers were born… was the Vietnam war... a horrible American atrocity. US planes dropped firebombs on men, women, children… civilians all. Massacre was the name of the game as soldiers collected oriental ears as souvenirs.

In one place, Mi Li, someone caught it on film… hard to do in pre-cellphone days. An entire town massacred. The carnage caught by the camera.

Lieutenant William Calley, was brought up… court martialed… there were posters of the massacre. He killed babies! Though convicted, Calley only spent 3 years...not in jail, but under “house arrest”… like Martha Stewart.

There was outrage. How could someone get away with that? Calley was a murderer! He should spend the rest of his life behind bars. Hey buckaroos! He was a soldier. Soldiers kill people. That’s their job. But Calley was supposed to be the sacrifice for all the evil done by ALL the soldiers... the sacrifice to public opinion… That one didn’t work out.

It’s 2020 and you’ve seen the picture: Officer Derek Chauvin, his knee on the neck of George Floyd as Floyd chokes out “I can’t breathe.” I don’t need to reproduce the picture, you’ve seen it on every TV channel, on every page of social media, on every poster in every march. My pal, Bob Black, believes he’ll get off scot-free… or with a 3-year slap, like Lt. Calley. I think he will be both scotless and freeless.

I think he’ll be a human sacrifice to the gods of Black Lives Matter. A legal knife to the heart to satisfy the call for blood (under the term justice… another word for blood). From what we’ve seen, he is guilty. We certainly have more evidence than did the Harvey Weinstein jury. But that’s not the point.

After this sacrifice, people will cheer, then be quiet. Things will go back to what they were. Cops will be soldiers… whose job it is to kill. Nothing will change about police or policing. One person (maybe with a few others) will be offered up to the God of public order shouting at the base of the pyramid. They will be satisfied.

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. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com

→ Music dept: The Boston Typewriter Orchestra has been performing its unique brand of music throughout New England since 2004 and will now be releasing its first vinyl album later this summer. Self-proclaimed conductor Tim Devin and a group of friends founded the ensemble as a joke. After premiering at Boston's Art Beat Festival, the idea took off. Using vintage machines to rhythmically clack, roll, spin and bang out "music," the typist-musicians say different models produce different sounds. "A Smith-Corona Galaxy 12 has a power space function that makes a nice metallic clang sound," explained one of the members.
I wrote my first column for Maximum Rock’n’Roll on a Smith Corona.

→ Something Fishy About This Dept: The Daily Star reports that a 30-year-old man turned up at Zhaoqing First People's Hospital in Guangdong, China, on June 3 suffering from abdominal pain. Doctors performed a series of scans before discovering a whole freshwater fish in the man's rectum.
How’d that get there?

The man explained that he had “accidentally sat on it.”
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" one of the doctors replied.

The spiny fins of the Mozambique tilapia had caused ruptures in the man's intestine and had to be removed through his abdomen by surgery.

→ The weirdest year in history continues dept: You may have heard this one on TV. A huge plume of Sahara Desert dust that drifted across the Atlantic Ocean has reached the southeastern United States.

This plume, which the National Weather Service (NWS) expects to blanket the U.S. Southeast and Puerto Rico, is the biggest in at least the past 50 years.

The dust outbreak is "by far the most extreme of the MODIS satellite record — our most detailed, continuous record of global dust back to 2002," tweeted Michael Lowry, an atmospheric scientist.

I wonder how long before they discover that the dust carries with it a new virus, spread through the eyes, that can only be stopped with a blindfold. Stay tuned for a state-by-state report on the blindfold laws. Actually, that might be cool. The REALLY blind folks would be the only ones who could get around!

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

Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

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. If there’s no link here (I can’t find it temporarily), then Google… er… Duckduckgo him for information.

And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

NEW: Here are a couple video links.

This from Jon Cox https://squelchchamber1.bandcamp.com/album/down-so-low

And this one from my very long-time friend Roger Armstrong.

Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com

– See you in hell,

Mykel

You're Still Wrong, June 2020 Volume 2... NO LIVES MATTER

You're Still Wrong, June 2020 Volume 2 or NO LIVES MATTER

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. 

MYKEL'S JUNE 2020 BLOG

VOLUME 2

OR

no lives matter

by Mykel Board

I grew up in Philadelphia, and Philadelphia has a really rough police-brutality history. I grew up in a neighborhood where it was very clear that the police were "them" and we were "us". --Will Smith

The grinding of the intellect is for most people as painful as a dentist’s drill. --Leonard Woolf

View from the operating table… looking up at the bright light… all faces masked... like the line at the grocery store during an epidemic… peering down.

“Looks like an aneurysm,” says one face… a man with bushy eyebrows.

“Yeah,” says another, “let’s go in… hand the drill to Dr. Unfahig.”

A nurse, short, brown skin visible around her slightly-oriental eyes, takes what looks like a large luger… with a drillbit at the end... and hands it to Unfahig. The doctor’s hand shakes as he takes the drill from her.

“But… but… but…” he says from behind his mask. “I can’t do this. I’m a dentist.”

“It’s part of the job,” says the man with the bushy eyebrows. “You’ll learn.”

Dr. Unfahig presses the tip of the drillbit against the patient’s temple, feeling for the soft spot… something to do with where Lincoln was shot. He knows from his dentistry class that the hole should be large, cleared of bacteria, go slow... narrow in… gradually widening.

He backs the drill off a bit… pulls the trigger… a high-pitched whine fills the room. He moves the drill to the patient’s temple and pushes it forward… there is blood… a lot of it.

Get it?

You would not demand that a dentist be a competent brain surgeon. Yet you complain when a cop… in what has become a branch of the military… doesn’t function as a mental health officer, a crowd controller, a peace-maker, a domestic dispute arbitrator, a spy, a detective, a public censor, an alcohol and drug abuse preventer, a run-away teen fetcher, and, in the past, a slave-returner.

Training for cops is how to protect yourself… how to use a gun… how to capture people and hold them so they won’t hurt you… all the skills you learn in the military. You fight for each other. Those on the barrel end of the gun are THE ENEMY.

And when the naked schizophrenic walks down the street with a screwdriver… who gets called? The trained doctors from the local looney-bin? No! The cops get called, and they do what they are trained to do… KILL PEOPLE. Winning the war requires killing the enemy… That’s what they’re trained to do. NO LIVES MATTER. Beating the enemy is what matters.

From one side, you hear ACAB (All Cops Are Bastards), from the other side you hear… No, cops are good guys and they have to be allowed to do what’s necessary to control criminals… And from a third side you hear, “Cops are just human… like you and me. There are good ones and bad apples. The bad apples must be punished.”

All of this is WRONG! Police are not the problem. POLICING is the problem. Liberals were horrified when Trump threatened to call in the army to support the police. Sure, we wouldn’t want to bring in young guys in uniforms with guns, would we? Yo! That’s what we have ALREADY!

The dad-was-a-soldier, the poor, the uneducated, the unable-to-work-elsewhere, the angry, the true-believers who really want to help. These are the soldiers… AND these are the cops. Giving mostly narrowly-educated people guns and telling them to “enforce the law” is like giving a dentist a drill and telling him to perform a brain operation.

People were horrified when Minneapolis defunded (abolished) the police force, but that is what needs to be done. We need, domestic negotiators, loony-handlers, substance recovery experts, anger-managers, cats-in-trees-removers, old-lady crossing the street helpers… and the list goes on. We don’t need cops.

- 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. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com

→ The Loony Patrol dept: If you need another reason to have a group of mental health workers rather than cops, WKRG in West Florida reports a man is accused of going on a “crime spree” that included getting naked at a flea market, stealing a car, breaking into a home, and ripping someone’s mailbox out of the ground. Sure, jail is the best place for someone like that, don’t you think? They don’t call it the Department of Corrections for nothing.

→ Corona for the lungs, fries for the heart dept: As Corona winds down in Europe, the damage done to the lungs has to be made up for. Why not have some heart problems?

Romain Cools, secretary-general of industry group Belgapom, told Reuters . “We know Belgians like their fries, it’s intangible heritage... our frying culture... so we ask Belgians to consume an extra portion of fries to allow us to process more potatoes and to avoid food waste.”

That’s the spirit… avoid food waste… just fry it up… and eat it.

→ This Bud’s For You dept: Jennie Stejna, of Easton Mass is a 103-year-old woman who recently survived a bout with the coronavirus says USA today.

As Stejna’s condition worsened, the family called her to say what they thought were their final goodbyes. When her son-in-law, asked whether Stejna was ready to go to heaven, she replied, “Hell yes.” But on May 13, granddaughter Shelley Gunn said she got good news — Stejna had recovered. The staff gave the aged survivor an ice cold Bud Lite to celebrate. It was something she loved but hadn’t had in a long time. 

 – See you all in hell, Mykel

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

Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

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. If there’s no link here (I can’t find it temporarily), then Google… er… Duckduckgo him for information.

And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

NEW: Here are a couple video links.

This from Jon Cox https://squelchchamber1.bandcamp.com/album/down-so-low

And this one from my very long-time friend Roger Armstrong.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com

And oh yeah, fittingly with this blog, I found a 1991 piece I wrote for THE MOWER zine in Germany. It's about VIOLENCE. You can read it at https://mykelsoldies.blogspot.com/2020/06/violence-in-mower-germany-1991.html

You're Still Wrong, June 2020 Volume 1... Every Little Bit

You're Still Wrong, June 2020 Volume 1 or Every Little Bit

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. 

MYKEL'S JUNE 2020 BLOG

VOLUME 1

OR

EVERY LITTLE BIT COUNTS

by Mykel Board

NOTE: This was written before the George Floyd murder. You'll get your fill of Floyd in the NEXT Blog.]

Public opinion is always right, especially when it's really idiotic.

--Louis-Ferdinand Celine

There is this notion that is quite popular in the environmental scene that every little bit helps, or 'Think global, act local.' I disagree with that. I think you have to start with how big the solution needs to be to solve the problem and then reason backward from there.

--Boyan Slat

I’m five years old… with Mom, Dad and Gail, my two-year-old sister… at Jones Beach. Usually we go to the North Shore beaches… like Glen Cove. There are no waves there. I guess Mom and Dad think it’s safer. At Jones Beach big waves come rolling in from the ocean. There are no surfers. Maybe surfing hasn’t been invented yet.

People lay on blankets all around us… This is the 1950s. There are bikinis… pretty new things… Mom isn’t wearing one. No, Dad isn’t either. Five year old me is happy to look at the bulges... girl bulges... guy bulges… and just wonder. We have a picnic basket, some cans of coke, some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches... a few Hershey bars. I’m drinking from a new cup Dad bought me. It collapses… telescopes into itself… You can carry it in a pocket. I like to drink from it, and collapse one section at a time as the liquid inside depletes. 

Five year old me likes to look at the water, and the bulging people that go into it. The way they dive… the way their bodies penetrate a wave like a thread into a needle.

Uh oh, something’s wrong. Looks like a teenager… not so far from me… caught in a big wave. I hear calls for help. I run as quickly as my five year old legs allow… back to the beach blanket… back to my pants, next to Mom under the umbrella. I reach into the pocket.

Yes! Here it is... the telescoping cup. I run to the shore with the cup… wade in… take the cup and scoop out water from the ocean. A cupful… run to the sand and dump it out. Then another cupful… run back to the sand.

A crowd grows on shore. A lifeguard pushes through and dives into the water. I can’t see what happens from here on because my father has grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back to shore and the beach blanket.

“What were you doing out there, Mickey?” he asks. (Yes, that was my childhood nickname.)

“Daddy,” I say, “I was taking water out of the ocean to help the man.”

“That’s crazy,” says Dad. “Don’t you know that you could have been killed… swept into the water by a big wave. Why would you do something like that?”

I can feel the tears coming to my eyes. “You told me to, Daddy,” I cry. “Remember, you said every little bit helps!”

NO IT DOESN’T!

Get it?

We already talked about the self-righteous fallacy that wearing a mask is a little bit that will help keep some sick person from dying. Actually, we need the lifeguard of a decent healthcare system. Instead, we scoop cupfuls of water by wearing some piece of cloth over our face and feeling oh so good about ourselves.

Or we stay home… social distance… destroy small bars and restaurants.. kill the society that keeps people sane… make people afraid to go out to see the doctor. They stay home and their cancer has a chance to metastasize… or they avoid that pain in the chest because it’s probably nothing serious and Corona patients need the hospital more than I do.

But wait, there’s more! What about the people who lost their jobs and die because they can’t afford their medication? What about the NEW homeless… made that way because the lockdown has impoverished them? Somehow, it is selfish to consider these people. Somehow, the business patronizers and the families that urge their loved ones to hug and touch are the bad guys. The stay-at-homers and the mask-wearers are the good guys. Why? Because every little bit helps.

NO, IT DOESN’T!

Recently, Consumer Reports ran an article about recycling. I've been a recycling opponent for some time, preferring not to buy shit in the first place... or at least reUSING rather than spending the energy to haul something away, process it, and then use more energy to distribute and sell it again. My neighbors tsk tsk when I throw my little plastic in the general garbage bin, while they dump their camel hump piles of plastic in the green bin. I’m not doing my part, you see. And every little bit helps.

The reason the public thinks recycling is the answer is that the plastic industry has spent 30 years on multimillion-dollar campaigns saying that.” says the Consumer Reports article. That was absolutely the wrong message. The message should have been: “Don’t use so much plastic in the first place.” Recycling makes you feel good, but it does nothing about the bigger problem of too much plastic in the first place.

Throwing your plastic into the garbage does not help. It just makes garbage. Not buying shit helps. Outlawing plastic shopping bags helps. Refilling your glass shampoo bottle and not drinking water from tiny plastic bottles… THAT helps. But the little act of putting that seltzer bottle in the recycling bin… that does NOT help… except to make you feel better.

HOLD UP! CHANGE OF SCENERY… I have three friends –all girls, interestingly enough… though they wouldn’t want to be called that– who have not fallen victim to social distancing. They don’t believe touching other people is DANGEROUS… you might catch something. The one I’m with now chides me for being so angry.

“Mykel,” she says, “stop the teeth gritting already. Lighten up… look at the leaves on the trees… check out the kids playing in the park… tell jokes… make people laugh.”

“My Jason mask makes people laugh.” I tell her.

 “Yes,” she says, “and it’s a good way to protest the mask bullshit... with a smile…. But your writing. It’s just angry… It’s not funny anymore.”

“Can I smell your twat?” I ask.

“That’s not funny,” she answers, pulling away from me, “and no, you cannot smell my twat.”

“Then it must be your feet,” I say.

“Okay,” she says. “That’s funny.”

We walk together down Broadway toward the financial district. She points out trees, flowers, murals, statues I’ve never seen before. Without car exhausts, you can smell the flowers… and the food smells that waft onto the street from the take-out places. When you have nowhere to be, you can take your time getting there… and enjoy the trip.

We pass an outdoor fruit stand. I didn’t even know they were still allowed. I smell durian. Maybe with all the stay-at-home Wall Streeters, new enterprises, spring up like daisies in an untended lawn.

Besides us, her maskless… me with my Jason mask… a woman with a high-tech face mask, goggles, and rubber gloves carefully picks through the fruit on the stand. She quickly glances at the two of us, then speaks to the stand attendant, an older Chinese guy.

“You know,” she says, speaking through her mask, the next two words in vocal italics, “some people think this whole thing is a joke. They don’t take care. I say, You can’t be too careful.”

“YES YOU CAN!” I shout at her.

Get it?

- 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. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com.

→ Virtual Fans Dept: The NY Times reports that the Seoul soccer club in South Korea was forced to apologize after propping up sex dolls in the seats for its match against Gwangju. "We had tried to add some fun in the no-spectator match," the club explained. "But we have not checked all the details, and that is clearly our fault." Details included the large breasted physiques and sex toy marketer’s logos on the dolls' clothing. The club covered the sucking mouths with surgical masks. That apparently wasn’t good enough. Fans quickly noticed.

→ I can’t even SAY Lamborghini dept: CNN reports that a Utah Highway Patrol officer pulled over a car for "what he thought was an impaired driver." Instead, he found a 5-year-old in the driver's seat. The boy told the trooper he took off in his parents' car after arguing with his mother because she wouldn't buy him a Lamborghini. He told the cop he planned to drive to California to get one for himself. "He only had $3 his wallet," the highway patrolman noted.

→ Just takin’ the pet out dept: Spain has one of the strictest lockdowns in Europe. News 14 reports that in Logrono a man took advantage of the lockdown rules. They make an exception for pet owners, who are allowed to go outside briefly with their pets. The National Police tweeted a photo of the man being arrested for sitting on a city bench holding his pet fish in a fish bowl.

→ Editrix knows best dept: Marlene Wicherski, former half-editrix of the great DC music zine Truly Needy, is the current editrix of my blog. After editing this one she wrote me:
I wonder what you would think of the plastic seltzer bottle recycling being done here (Boston). You toss in your empties and the hospital fashions them into face shields for health workers.

I say… it’s better than a hit in the head. But Corona will disappear. That plastic island in the Pacific will keep getting bigger.

– See you all in hell,

Mykel

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

Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

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. If there’s no link here (I can’t find it temporarily), then Google… er… Duckduckgo him for information.

And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

AND I've started to receive music and band pages. Take a look at this one sent to me from Jon Cox. Squelch Chamber  

Then there's this from long-time friend, and MRR contributor Roger Armstrong. Double Fisted

I just heard from The Green Party who wanted me to put in a plug for them. Here it is, though somehow I doubt they'll mention me in their campaign literature.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a PRINT zine and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com