I think everything tastes better smoked even though I think it’s as healthy as licking charcoal briquets. Smoked cheese, smoked fish back when I ate such foodstuffs; i do have liquid smoke in my refrigerator as well as a reserve bottle for when the Mayans come and take away our supply of Funyuns and force us to eat vegetables or each other, if some cannot live without the Baconater. Mayans didn’t have Funyuns or onion rings or Cherry Coke; they had mathematics and organic foods. So if Quetzecoatal comes back, I imagine he’ll want to sample the cuisine and the question will be if he has a gall bladder attack from eating Twinkies and breast implants before he gets around to ushering in the next great epoch of human supra-awareness.
This is a night of randomness as I wind down a brutal stretch of overexposure to someone clinically depressed and unhappy on top of that like the evil twin of marijuana brownies. It is a job thing and I really believe that one can catch energy virus from others in airborne form and while the Force is strong with me, it is not that strong that being pounded for three weeks like a tomato in a clothes dryer doesn’t bode well. I’ve been depressed; I’d say a good 75% of my life until the last few years of joy forging and smelting and such; I know what the blues are like; actually, the blues are different that clinical depression. The blues are acute and when I get the blues my guardian spirit Bricklayer Brown, blues musician appears and keeps me company with riffs about corn on the cobs that treat him bad and deep sordid midnight where the only way to make it through alive is with a guitar and/or Nyquil. CIt’s acute, like a thunderstorm; Clinical depression is an epoch, like the Ice Age and over the years I’ve take Zoloft, Paxil, some generic form of Prozac and maybe something else kids now pop so they can mow down people in shopping malls like video games, So I know the feeling and when someone else has it, it’s very difficult to handle and last weekend I walked around feeling so down I almost bought Oxy-10 and put on my glasses from 9th grade, one of my Great Depressions. So, it takes some time to squeeze it out of my system and here we are at the end of the Squeezin; I need every ounce of energy to grapple with other grappling issues, like fear and renewing the lease on this body to really lay out the best my soul has to offer to the world, this year, very soon.
Last night I went to a fundraiser held by my Frenemies costar’s theater company. What was amazing was the large Israeli contingency; everyone had exotic Middle Eastern first name that sounded names you’d hear in a modern sequel to the BIble when that thing gets written. The music was heavy dance Tel Aviv-ie flavored and made me want to travel to the holy land, which I’ve never been. White Plains has been the extent of my travel and while it does have Macy’s and a Sears in the same mall I doubt the major religions are all going to want to lay claim to it’s land; you never know.
Now off to play Rummikub with the quiet night gnomes.
