Capitalism is folding in on itself

Sometimes I wonder if every generation has felt like the world was ending.
Apocalypse seems to go in cycles, but when will it stick? When will this planet
get fed up enough with human beings that it will unleash enough incurable diseases,
earthquakes, mudslides, wildfires, cyclones, floods and reality tv shows to drill into the skulls of humanity
that we have royally fucked this place up and Mamma earth aint happy about it.

Regardless of whether you imbue the planet with a personified emotional state, ready to shake off humans like flees or see this place as a godless rock in a meaningless void, you must surely have noticed that the small corner we've cut for ourselves isn't doing so hot. Blame Bush. Why not? He seems like a good scapegoat. I'm all game for digging in the toolshed to find granddad's old torch, stop by the hardware store for some tar and eagerly pluck the feathers out of my luxurious bed bath and beyond comforter. Really though, as much as king George II has done to flush the economy, world relations and human rights down the drain, I think one would be hasty to paste a stamp of blame on his empty cavernous head.

I blame capitalism. The very thing which has made this nation such a world power is the very thing that is causing it to implode. Ok, so capitalism is great in theory, but it's structure has no checks and balances to help control greed. Everyone wants a piece of the pie, but once they've had one slice, they want another. Before you know it they have the whole pie. Why find satisfaction in one pie when you can have the whole pie shop? Why not two pie shops, the pie factory, all the cherry trees, flour mills and every pie tin. Now that they've got all that and the millions, make that billions it brings, they're still not satisfied. They have to buy out all the competition and desimate the towns where they had built factories. God, this money is like a drug. How can they make more money. Fire all the local workers and ship the factories to china or india. Yes, they don't have to pay them very much and they can have more money, piles of it.

I think of this as trickle up economics. So the people who worked at the pie shop and the pie factory aren't doing so well. They start putting expenses on credit cards because they can't afford to live in a nation with so little pie. The banks that loaned that money aren't doing so well, so they have to borrow from the government. The government isn't doing so well, so it has to borrow from china. Well, china's got all the factory money coming in from all the pie manufacturing, so they don't mind making the most powerful nation in the world their bitch. It, afterall is part of their plan for world domination. Stupid Americans, so arrogant.

While this is going on most people are so fascinated with buying crap they don't need because it takes their minds off the fact that the carpet is being pulled out from under them in their foreclosed homes. Btw, that crap they don't need was made in china by people who took away their jobs.

I found it fascinating to watch elaborate arrangements of dominoes stacked and stretched for miles. All that work and then one little flick and you watch this chain of events that is quite breathtaking.

The Quiet Before The Storm

Some of you have commented on/noticed that I've been a little quiet lately, which is odd for someone with such a big mouth. I have been secretly plotting a little something and gathering together the elements to make it happen. That little something is the building of a recording studio in my apartment. It has been progressing in leaps and bounds.

There are two exciting things on the horizon, the announcement of the official release date for my second album, Sunrise at the Speakeasy and a series of bootleg tracks (demos) that I will begin sharing with you. Though I can't provide details right now, I can say that I am about to flood the world with a lot of music I've been keeping in my back pocket. I can't wait to share these things. If you have a request for a song that has been done live but never recorded or for a different version of a recorded song, let me know. I might be taking special requests if you ask nicely.

Garden Party 25

On Monday I performed at Garden Party 25, the largest fundraiser event for New York City's LGBT Center, held on pier 54 and hosted by the hillarious and very awesome Kate Clinton. I love this woman. If you haven't checked out her Hillarity Clinton vlogs, I recommend you give them a look and listen.

When I got to soundcheck I was greeted by a familiar face, that of fellow singer/songwriter Eric Himan. Eric had soundchecked earlier so he was kind enough to show me where to go and all that jazz. Eric and I met a few year's back when he stayed at our apartment while visiting New York for an open mic with my then current boyfriend's ex boyfriend. (head spinning yet?)

Garden Party was full of wonderful food, drink and great performers. There was one small hitch. When I got on stage for my actual performance, I went to strum the guitar and nothing...silence. Inside I began having a small panic attack. This was a first.
I tried to give the tech guys time to fix the problem by doing an acapella rendition of flapjacks....still nothing but silence. They came on stage, pulled me off stage, stalled...put me back on stage...pulled me off stage. Finally they were able to fix the problem and I performed Lemon Scented and Fishnet Sailor for a very warm crowd of 2500 people, the number that was quoted in the thank you email I received yesterday. The whole situation was kind of comical. You never know what's going to happen when you perform live, so you just have to roll with the punches.

Despite technical glitches, the night was quite enjoyable. I was able to see Eric perform again. K is very fond of protest song, which I have to agree is a nice addition to Mr. Himan's repertoire. Gavin Creel performed as well. I must admit that I didn't know who he was, but as soon as he was announced K became very excited. Apperently K's first broadway show was Thoroughly Modern Millie, in which Gavin not only performed but for which he also received a Tony nomination. So there you have it. That's how I spent my monday night. Who said Mondays are boring?

Goodbye George Carlin

George Carlin, one of the most brilliant
subversive figures in American comedy
died yesterday. I absolutely adored this man
for telling it like it is, in a way that only he could do.

Governor of California likes Ass

On Monday, June 16th, the same day that I found myself celebrating 30 years of hard living
on the third rock from the sun, California became the 2nd state in the Union to perform legally binding gay marriages.
Arnold Schwarzenegger, an Austrian born republican (really?) is currently that state's governator.

I must admit that as a young boy I had a small crush on Arnold Schwarzenegger back when he did his Conan movies. There's nothing like a well chiseled gladiator to send a young boy's heart a flutter.

In honor of my schoolboy crush, here's some vintage governator.
I think Arnold could have had a real future doing a travel show, but alas, that ship has sailed.

An Avid Bacon Lover Laments the slaughter of sandbag pigs

It's a well known fact that I have a rather unhealthy obsession with bacon or as I like to call it PIG CANDY. However, I also have an extreme fondness for pigs. I've never fully been able to reconcile these two opposing loves. So, when I saw a story about Iowa officials killing a group of pigs that managed to swim to the safety of a levy after being left behind in the floodwaters, I obviously had conflicted views. If the pigs were not also used to provide bacon for some homeless family in Iowa, then their deaths were indeed senseless. Ok, not senseless. The pigs were poking holes in sandbags with their hooves and rooting around, but you get the idea.

More on the pigs...

A note from Chester

Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Chester Devonshire III.
Many of you know me from my books, The well plated Dinner Party and Nuts for Nuts.
I'm thrilled to join the staff of the Rant. Starting next week, I will be giving you a front row seat to the very best that the entertainment world has to offer. Additionaly, I will be sharing my expertise as a world renowned food critic, giving you the scoop on the most exclusive dining experiences from the world's most accomplished gourmet chefs.
I look forward to the dialogue that we can have as new found friends. After all, I owe my success to you, my humble readers. Without you, I would still be burying nuts in my backyard back in Toledo. Instead, I am able to write for one of the internet's most prestigious publications.

Thank You and God bless America,

Chester Devonshire III.

Fear

The beauty of the world has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
-Virginia Woolf

29

Is it celebrating 30 or mourning your 20's?
I think I'm torn and yet, I know that I am
not. Soooo. Thank you to the wonderful people who came out
to the Zipper Factory despite a monsoon season in Manhattan.

You were all beautiful and amazing.

Most of all, I want to thank George.

Mister Lee,
How can it be that you're so good to me?

I feel that I have reached a transitional period.

I loved this show with all of my heart, but in a way it was
waving goodbye.

Goodbye dear twenties. You wore down the parts that needed to be polished and you
left alone the ones that were good as they were. Goodbye to the first phase of my adult existence and hello to a better me.

I will take out the trash, and I will drop off the laundry. I will forgive myself for not being perfect and I will say goodbye to the socks that litter my floor with holes in the back from my being too rough with them.

I vow to clean the balls of wax out of my ears and listen a little more in this new decade...both literally and metaphorically.

I vow to get to bed on-time sometimes.

Oops. I broke that one already.

Thank you everyone who has supported me as a musician, a friend and even sometimes as an enemy. You have made me better, all of you.

Thank YOU!!!

Doctor Ruth's Box

To live in New York is to constantly brush shoulders with celebrity.
Sightings are common and frequent ranging from A-list to Z-list. I once worked at a clothing store with that guy Justin who was the runner up in the first American Idol.
I must say that he wasn't a very nice person. I once helped Jeanine Garafalo pick out an outfit that she wore later that day to the MTV music awards. I've seen Taylor Dayne without her makeup. She's very kind and short. I once had to arrange a helicopter for a nobel prize winning phycisist and got to talk with Olympia Dukakis about her role in Tales of the City. I love her as Mrs. Madrigal and she confided that it was her favorite role. After 10 years in New York, you start to lose track of celebrity sightings. You can't throw a brick in this city without hitting a model or actor.

Yesterday I had a celebrity sighting of sorts, well not really, but it cracked me up. I was in an elevator and a messenger got in after me and stood in front of me. For some reason I decided to look at the name on the box that he was carrying. It looked heavy. There it was, plain as day "Dr. Ruth Westheimer" the cute little old lady sex therapist. I thought about how I could notate the address in my head and later stalk her. Why would I want to stalk Dr. Ruth? I wouldn't really have the desire to stalk her, but it would be nice to have the information should I go batshit crazy and feel the need to spice things up a bit. After quelling my desire to become a crazed criminal stalker, I began to think about what might be inside that box for Dr. Ruth. It will always be a mystery, but I can always fantacize.

The Seaman's Warf

The Sailors and the fishermen

come in this bar
to drink their gin.

The seaman's warf is always full
of scallywags on wobbly stools...

a parade, three martinis, scissors and a stray cat

Yesterday the alarm went off way too early for even strong coffee to remedy.
K and I rushed to the train to the port authority to join the dredges of society and catch a bus. We got there with no time to spare and piled on to an Adirondack Trailways beast bound for New Paltz where I was set to perform for their gay pride celebration.

I did a short set (3 songs)
1.Fishnet Sailor
2.Flapjacks
3.Walking Song

If you've never been to New Paltz, it is indeed a magical town or village as they call it. It is a town at the epicenter of the marriage equality movement in New York, a cause in which I have been very involved for the last couple years. K and I met last year on May 19th, when I was performing at the Marriage Equality March in Brooklyn. He was filming the event for the NYC LGBT center's television show. It was love at first sight, literally. I told my friend Marc that K would be my boyfriend before I had spoken to him and before he had seen me. It's funny that he is the one who approached me.

So we marched with a group of high school students, had some weird herbal alternative to coffee at a hippy dippy artist collective coffee shop. You know the place. There were white kids with dreads wearing tie-dye and drumming outside. The smell of patchouli was wafting out into the street.

I spent way too much time in the sun yesterday and being the whitest thing short of albinoism, I find myself irregularly burned today in the places where I failed to slather on the SPF 50. I need to be fitted for some sort of gauze sun condom before I'm allowed to brave the elements again. Thus is the curse of being a pigmentless creature. My ex-roomate Piia used to call me Robster the Lobster.

We got back to the city way later than planned due to some sort of traffic calamity in New Jersey. I had to cancel a rehearsal with Jeff for the Zipper show. We've been rehearsing a lot. It's interesting to have piano on top of some of my songs. I'm so used to being a lone entity that it feels like a new de-virginizing territory to explore.

We met up with Laura for a drink after the exhaustion of the day. A drink turned into 3 martini's...sheesh. For some reason I didn't really feel the effect as much as I should.

We got home and I began cutting K's hair. I've only cut his hair twice, and both times have involved booze. One would think the combination of scissors, alcohol and the close proximity to my boyfriend's face might be a bad idea, but somehow it works out. Though I haven't seen him yet today, I do believe I did a good job.

We have been seduced by a stray cat. We started feeding her out of pity and now it looks like we may be adopting her. Am I ready for the responsibility of keeping another creature alive? Is this the stepping stone towards adopting a Chinese baby?

This morning, the cat broke into the apartment by destroying the screen on the window. She wasn't looking for food but rather companionship. She curled up next to the bed and woke me up by purring.

Ugh. I hope she doesn't have some sort of flee and/or mite infestation, rabies, scabies or some other cat pestilence. She's very cute and has a sweet nature. We have been calling her Isis. she looks Egyptian. It's fitting. I'm so not ready to be a father.

The Ocean

I saw my friend, her face reflected in the ocean.
It showed her more twisted and ugly than I had seen in years.
I have seen all of my friends twist in the tide.
The others were blinded by the sun on the sand. They were unable to
see what was happening.

I have lost something that I could never put my finger on, but I always needed.
It pulls the very breath out from under my lungs. It rips the shoes off my feet and fills them with sand. My heels are worn bloody from not wearing socks.

Sometimes the ocean gives breath and life. It's salty kisses, heal the wounds of bug bites, broken hearts and city burn-out. I've grown accustomed to the ocean giving and revitalizing.

I saw myself reflected in the ocean and knew at that moment that it had
taken a piece of my soul. It is jarring when you realize that it's no longer a one way relationship.
The ocean wanted to take and I wanted to take. The ocean always wins.

For two days I have been on the verge of tears and yet of the three people
who are closest to me, only one cared to find out why.

I feel sunburnt and out of place in the city. Why am I here?
Everything comes and goes in waves. I want to build a sand castle all by myself. I want everyone to leave me alone. I need to wait for the ocean to forgive me.

I fear, I can never go back.
My time has passed and I have dropped the torch.


Oh twisted one, it is yours to pick up.
I love you, no matter how grotesque you become.

Fingerpainting Day

Photo by Carrie Thomas

Today is a fingerpainting day.
It's too cold and rainy to go outside and play.
It's a day to bake cupcakes and make paper airplanes,
to watch the droplets collecting on the window panes.

Today is the morning after
when the booze and laughter has faded
It still echoes in your ears and bleeds through
all that you hear.

Today is the day that I will pull myself together
despite headaches and bad weather.

Yes, today is a fingerpainting day.

We Can't Have Nice Things

Photo by Carrie Thomas

I remember knocking over a china vase while fighting with my sister. It was probably the 5th grade. I remember getting super glue and piecing it back together to cover all traces of our sin. My mother used to say that we couldn't have nice things. I think that I was a big part of this.

I remember staining the carpet with bleach. I had white shoes that I wore to gymnastics and they had turned an earthy shade of brown. I took a bottle of bleach and cotton balls and sat Indian-style on the carpet, dapping the bleach on the offending spots. I was so proud of my accomplishment until I looked down at the half dollar sized circles of bleached carpet. I grabbed magic markers and shoe polish to try and fix the mistake, but I was found out. My mother was furious. I had to sit in a chair without moving until my father got home. I think this was the last time in my life that my father whipped me with a belt.

I was standing in line this week at the post office, listening to music when the sound stopped pumping into my left ear. I discovered that my nice headphones, a christmas gift had started to come apart due more than likely to the rigors of abuse that I have inflicted on them. For the last week, I have been listening to music through one ear. The strange thing is that I feel like I can hear what should be coming through the broken headphone, but it's just in my head. I'm completing a circuit like an amputee who feels the need to scratch a limb that is no longer there. Yes, We just can't have nice things

Robert Recommends- Chris Garneau

Chris Garneau has the face and voice of an angel.
He is easy on the eyes and ears. It is rare that
I am drawn to male musicians. I'm mostly captivated by the ladies.
This video for his song Relief tugs at my tender little heart.
May it tug on yours as well.

enjoy...

Habits and Addictions (Part 3) -Florrie Fisher

Habits and Addictions (part 2)- LSD and Hotdogs

Habits and Addictions

Most of us stumble through life on crutches of various types. For some it is booze and cigarettes. For others it porn and pixie sticks.

I would say that I have an addictive personality, but I think that to be human is to be drawn to addiction.

I lived with a girl who ate a very strict diet, obsessive. She would steam greens to go with her long grain rice and miso soup. She would criticize me with her nose held high as I fired up the skillet for fried pork chops and butter drenched mashed potatoes. Secretly she had a stash of twinkies and ding dongs in her room. She would binge on sugar and chocolate full of preservatives and then sob alone in her room, consumed by her secret sin. I would find the wrappers, little clear pieces of evidence exposing her daily crimes.

When I was 24 years old, the floor fell out from under me. I wanted to die. After 4 1/2 years, my relationship was over. I had lost my job. I was broke and felt so desperately alone. I found that drowning my sorrows in booze was the only way that I could bare to even breath the air. Every little thing brought me to tears. I screamed. I stayed in bed all day. I played my guitar on the street for loose change to buy food but more often a drink. I needed something, anything to numb the pain. I thought my life was over.

Slowly, with time all wounds heal leaving scar tissue that is tougher than the soft untouched baby skin that was there before the trauma. I am covered in scars. It is a blessing to have been cut deep. As I have healed, my drinking as gotten more and more manageable but has still been a crutch, a way to numb. I think that there is a comfort in habit. There is something soothing about a cigarette and a beer to calm the nerves. It is nice however to take a moment and experience clarity.

I think that I will always be a drinker. I don't know if I would have been able to make it through some of the trauma without a bit of numbing. I know that if I hadn't been able to express myself with song, I would be dead. I'm addicted to music. It is my #1 addiction. Everything else is habit.

I had quit smoking 3 years ago after a pack a day habit that somehow crept its way back into my life recently. Today, it is 9 days since I have had a cigarette and almost 3 weeks since I've had a drink of alcohol. Oddly, It's been calming. I feel very zen and upbeat. It's nice to step away from my habits for a while.

I'm not standing up in front of a group of people in an awful VFW hall basement with flourescent lighting that gives everyone a hue of sickly green. I'm not reciting the serenity prayer or gleaming with pride that I was given some sort of pin, the human equivillant of a dog biscuit for learning a new trick. I have merely sent my liver on a vacation as it has served me well in many a war and deserves some recouperation before being sent into battle again.

I'm thinking of going back to Yoga. Apparently it's what I'm supposed to do now that I have become so centered and filled with clarity, free of habits and addictions.

Adam Zyglis+HuffPo

Oh Adam Zyglis,

How I love your political cartoons.

Check out more of Adam Zyglis' work at Adamzyglis.com


And while we're on the subject of politics. Check out this article from the Huffington Post. It's all about...
Dirty Politics
This disgusts me.