Settling in Phoenix

Well, for a number of weeks I haven’t put a thing on this blog — so, it’s not so “daily” as I originally intended. I was in Scranton Pennsylvania during the Phil Pharce — or that astounding bit of nonsense over some duck hunters opinion on gay men — which is so tired and worn, and yet he spoke it as if it was all new and exciting. Once again a failed and lapsed Christian claims he has found Jesus anew — and then in hypocrisy of uncompromising proportions deigns to tell gay men we should find women so he can rest easily. Do any of these “born again” heathens ever run after the heteros divorced? Or the adulterers, sinners, fornicators, child and wife beaters, those abortionists or the malign among the heteros? No, not a one. Their only concern after their bit of failure to keep their heterosexuality in order and under the Godly way is to come and bug the gay guys — and demand we marry anyone’s daughter but their own. It’s such a standard formula. There’s Newt Gingrich and the Donald Trump opining on the sanctity of marriage after their 2nd divorces — and their third trophy wives. So sure are they of the “sanctity” of something they are serial monogamous. So, that was the last time I published something, during the Phil Phracas — may as well “Ph” balance it all, yes? 

Meanwhile, over in politics I’m sure the country is still spending billions we don’t have. I’m fairly positive that the hypocrites who have seized Congress and the Presidency, and perhaps the Courts, too, are all concerned for the common man while they pass laws that benefit themselves only — or even exempt themselves from the morass. Perhaps Mr. John Boehner has cried again over the matter. I’m sure there’s tension afoot over legislation no one will read and no person I actually know will worry about, nor can do anything about, and well, why worry? When the collapse comes, or the things sways, or whatever will happen, all the verbiage won’t matter — it’ll be who you know, who your friends are in real life, not in politics. I’m sure each new law is the beginning of a renewed American progress or the coming collapse of it all – depending on who you ask and when. Perhaps opinions can shift in a day. Meanwhile, 1/2 the nation is oblivious and the other half is angry. Who is who is hard to tell until a conversation might actually be started. 

Global Warming has brought endless cold and snow that seems to show no sign of ceasing. And so to cover up the obvious, the scientifically political are making up more convoluted terms and reasons to obfuscate reality. Oh, my, yes, a Polar Vortex has gripped the nation because Global Warming is heating up the Arctic, so the cold has no where to go but Cleveland — and even further south. Reports are in today of snow in Louisiana and the Gulf South — a land or torpid palms and Azaleas in bud by now, now clipped by the warmth of snow. Blizzards now have names, to scare the populace into snowmageddons as if a flake never flew in Philly before. It’s amazingly gross to watch even the Weather.com site pontificate how all the cold is from the warmth. Meanwhile, reports are in that the sun has turned itself off like no time in the past few hundreds years — not that people back then could see nearly what we can see — but well, what was obvious – the sun spots — have disappeared. So, the sun is cooling off while the earth is heating up – the snow flies and the temps drop — and it’s the fault of Exxon, of course. Only something bigger than that can solve the problem. 

I heard that General Motors is now “private” again – such as a gov’t semi-governed entity can be — Mussolini would marvel at how we have emasculate private corporations for the public good. Apparently, if I read right, the government, aka, the taxpayer – you and I — “Only” lost 10 Billions of Bucks – not bad considering the usual boondoggling billions the government loses. I’m sure banks and solar panel companies, chemical concerns and financiers are all being bailed out by the billions too — so that jobs can be kept. For as we know, as is repeatedly “Unexpectedly” known — job reports are lame, weak, dissolute, perhaps even fabricated — and so there’s less people working, less people looking for work, and less jobs to be had, but due to the bizarre way the government counts such things, unemployment is down. Sure, 160 million used to work, now it’s only 150 million, but 10 million stopped looking for work — often from new found disabilities and fine social service poverty programs — than the “unemployment” rate actually fell. It’s not as drastic as Stalin’s counting methods, where in which he shot 10 million and then proclaimed that unemployment went down. Basically, anyone who believes a government number at this point is a knave and a fool.

Meanwhile, of course, the president issues decree after decree — many related to the “law of the land” called by so many names one is not sure what it is — “health care reform” — ObamaCare — Affordable Care Act and the more portentous “patient protection and affordable care act” or the PPACA — which is sort of the sound a cat makes when it coughs up a hair ball. Meanwhile, seems there’s less doctors, more forms — to protect the environment the trees are beings stripped from the forests so that the file cabinets of bureaucrats can grow moss, mildew and mold, no doubt. So, some glitch is found, and the president issues a decree and blames the glitchees, if I may call those victims of the law, for the actual glitches caused by the law. Congress stands mutely aside and mumbles “for the good of the people,” before parenthetically mentioning that “thank God we’re not covered by this nonsense.” 

Then too I heard that some governor of New Jersey is wrapped up in a land closure scandal on the George Washington Bridge. I dare say, when governors give up the fight against sissy smooching recognition to stop the cars from free flowing over the bridge it’s quite something to behold. Perhaps the tolls should be abandoned and everyone in the metero area taxed $2 extra a year to make up the difference. I somehow don’t think the tolls are being used to maintain the bridge – or almost any road — but instead go to the general coffers of NY & NJ so that the money might be used for slush funds of elected officials’ privileges so that they can grease the palms and tushies of the locals so that the election money can roll to the campaigns to get reelected. Somehow this is good for democracy. Makes no difference the political party – both are in unholy league to maintain the morass. 

And so, you see, with all the nonsense going on around  me, and what Justin Bieber and the Hollywood brigades are doing, one can hardly turn to the news without cringing at the absurdity. One hopes the stuff hits the fan after I’m gone — that maybe another 30 years – but, yes, this morass could last that long yet again. 

Meanwhile, I left Baja Siberia, aka, Scranton PA – under a cloud of family suspicion for having gotten some bug as my departure approached, thereby leaving a few extra things for the time challenged to handle. Oh well, running to the bathroom seemed a bit more urgent, if you know what I mean, than cleaning out the fridge. Something was going to get dirty, it wasn’t going to be me, ahem. It was a pleasant few days during a blizzardette in NYC — 6 to 10 inches hardly worthy of the designation. Fortunately, unlike virtually every other flight in or out of JFK during the weekend of January 5th, my flight to Phoenix departed on time. Like the other 14,000 flights a day no one thinks about, it landed safely, and even a little head of time. 

I stayed five days at the Phoenix International Youth Hostel — where I had worked for years — and where I get free lodging in my rare appearances – and I set about the task of finding an apartment. Oh, they weren’t worried about me – for unlike many other of the people who come to Phoenix to look for an apartment — I actually went and looked for one. I started by Monday, and by Wednesday I had narrowed it down to 3 or 4 places. A night in a bar confirmed the choice, and then it took a day to get the paperwork done, and the electric on and by January 10th I had the keys to my own little one bedroom pied-a-terre in Central Phoenix in what can be called the Gayborhood. 

The LGBT center is 2 doors away, the nearest bar is less than a football field away. Further bars line up down the Avenue. Then too there’s a dozen antique stores should I desire the fancy stuff – for which I really don’t have the money.. Though i did splurge on a 1950 wooden rocking swilling office chair – that I actually had to roll up the boulevard. Horns bonked, people waved, bicyclers wondered what on earth I was doing. $42 — that’s a big expense for the cheap one. The LGBT center’s flag flies just high enough that I can see if from my balcony, and too from the window in which I placed my work desk — but alas, their wifi signal flies just low enough that I read it — but can’t get it. Dang. Life is tough. The center is charming and helpful — but riven with politics of personality it seems. Which means I should get involved for I’m far more into practical solutions than having any power over people’s lives. I was told, “well, different people want to do different things” — well, I dare say — the horrors — people doing what they want — and perhaps cooperating just enough to use Room A and Room B at the same time without having a heart attack. I’m not sure the details. I’m too new.

I’m also going to be teaching three courses — summer thingies — at the Phoenix Center for the Arts — after the program director heard me hold court at the hostel she informed me I was just perfect. So, 3 classes are slated. One is “Research & Writing Your Family History” — which is amazing to me how many people think they can go to Ancestry.com and find the whole thing written. Then a class on “Gay History over the Past 2000 Years” about which I’m quite an expert and iconoclast — far too many “gay historians” seems to think it has something to do with left-right modern American politics and even the capitalism and socialism and I dare say, Richard the Lionhearted and Philip of France didn’t give a damn when they were smooching in the late 1180s in Paris and Sicily on the way to make nice with Saladin in Jerusalem. Well, it’s a confusing history — and a good thing Richie’s mom Eleanor of Aquitaine brought us the word “Gai” from “gai troubadours” of Provence and Poitiers, lest we be stuck with the ghastly “homosexual” from some German scientist — few of whom could ever be trusted. And the third course shall be called “The Dark Ages were pretty bright — 400 to 1400 AD” — which is a fascinating time to me – and for which I’m thankful for the optics explored and the reading and far-sight glasses developed or I should still be walking into walls. So, it looks like a fun time coming up. 

Monday I go to Tucson with a lesbian with a pick up truck — quelle surprise — to pick up my art and weirder things which I left there several months ago. I shall play tour guide and pay with a painting. What a pleasant excursion. And that’s why I haven’t done much around here. The idea of moving to a video format intrigues me even if the technology eludes me – but still – no one reads more than 136 characters at a time anymore. Why, I went to the local pub to perhaps converse intelligently and found 95% of the people so deeply engrossed in their gizmos it was like looking at zombies, each with a pale blueish glow bedeviling their face. 

And so that’s the world of Hlavac, el blogmeister of the daily mush. The mush continues, I’m just tired of talking about it. Don’t even get me started on my own experience with health care bureaucrats, or we shall be here all day. More eventually, of course.

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