A Simmering Rage

This series of letters was in response to an artist who sent out a group letter to all her “friends” on the MySpace site. In this letter she was waking up to the fact that our government, our leaders, are up to some pretty scandalous shit that doesn’t bode well for the common man. Hardly. And she was feeling desperate to rabble rouse and awaken everyone to action by creating a website that featured artists and their works, specifically works that reflected their thoughts on today’s darkness which envelopes us all. The futility of her request, even though noble at its heart, opened up something in me that I’d been wanting to say for some time, having come to some cold hard conclusions already. There is a new awareness taking hold, I feel it, I’m acting on it, I just don’t know how long it will be before all those who are feeling and reacting to this new awareness are able to galvanize their thoughts and feelings into a powerful, earthchanging message. And I guess in some way, these set of tomes is my first pitch in the game... wdw2

From: Knuckle Yummy
Date: Oct 22, 2007 10:25 AM


I wish it was a simple as sending out a tome and expecting people to react, unfortunately it is not that simple. I've taken a real hard look at what is happening, and then I took some steps to correct the imbalance. The steps I took were pretty drastic and, dare I say, most won't take those steps which is the root of the problem. Gosh, this may get long winded here, so bear with me... I had a very successful career, 30 years worth, but when working with the last "big" band I woke up and realized I was a slave. Had a great house. Several vehicles. Bills were more than paid. Luxurious lifestlye. You name it, I had it. But I realized that because of the monetary upkeep of such a lifestyle, I was a slave to capitalism. I wasn't free. I was a slave to debt and income. What did I do? Quit. The whole shebang. Pulled myself out of the system by selling everything I had, paying off all debt, then I moved to a friend's ranchouse in Texas (basically oversaw his facility, like a foreman in exchange for free rent) where I wrote a novel, took a vow of poverty so I could see what is REALLY IMPORTANT in the big scheme of things. Pretty scary time, but I weaned myself from modern society and all that entails. I am now, only slightly, involved in the day to day, but going about living in a totally new way. My needs are few. My acquisitions meager. I am somewhat, free But people will never get mad enough at what is happening, and what will only get worse, because they are a slave to capitalism, their lifestyles, and no one is willing to sacrifice any of that to elicit change, radical change that is needed. Maybe in ten years time when the pressure becomes too much, people will revolt, but until their lifestyles are completely compromised, there will be no change. And politicians aren't any help either, casue they're in the same boat as everyone else, plus they got the inside track .. and money. Power corrupts, and absolute power absolutely corrupts. Big business and money rules our planet, and they have us by the short and curlies because for a very long time now they've been conditioning us to think we need all this stuff. Hell, look at advertising. YOU NEED THIS STUFF they're telling you, and people are stepping in line, totally believing the bill of goods they're selling. Will people stop driving cars and ride bicycles instead? Laughable here in the USA. Violent overthrow will be the only means of change, but frankly, Americans just aren't gonna do it until critical mass, unfortunately. Look at the world around us, look at all the misfortune, chaos, death, starvation, injustice.... it is EVERYWHERE, and the money guys are gonna ride this one out cause they control EVERYTHING. People need to wake up, but they won't, unfortunately until it will be SO BAD that turnaround may not be possible. I don't want to sound negative, cause I am the biggest optimist alive, but I'm also a realist and I clearly see what's happening and I know what needs to happen, which is why I took the steps I did. Unfortunately, I don't see a mass consciousness awareness taking place with the masses until things get worse. I do hold out hope that a given few will help lead the way to a new world awareness. Where are those people? Look at Bill Gates and what he and his wife are trying to do, look at Bono and what he's trying to do, but shit, they're trying to help those who have NOTHING, and there is a greater need, but time and events just haven't kicked into another gear.... yet. It will, but it is going to take time and much awareness and a grip on the realities of what we face. We can figure this out, but it is going to be a long term protracted war on self to be able to fight the powers that be. Gosh, this is only a fraction of what I feel, as I've been on this for over a decade. I don't know of anything more to say at present, only that I'm hopeful, and personally, though still dependent on the system in some ways, I'm happy, happier than I've been my whole life. You know whom I admire, and who I think has it right. Look at the Amish, the Shakers, and others like them. They live in communities and they work as a community, all self sufficient, for the most part. They build their own houses from products they get from their land. They grow their own food. They get energy from the wind, sun, and running water. They ride horses, so no gas, insurance, parking tickets, and all the other things that comprise owning a vehicle. They live in tune with Earth, nature, and they give to nature, and nature gives back to them. Again, this is the tip of the iceberg with the way I think. One last thing, I feel the Earth is a living being, and what does a living being do when it is threatened by a disease, or a parasite, it gets rid of it. Look around, the earth is trying to rid itself of the biggest pest and threat, mankind. We are the plague. And by wiping a large portion of us out, may bring about the balance that is needed. And that may be the answer, too. I could talk for days on this, sorry to have unleashed, so to speak. Desptie what I've written, again, I'm a very happy, optimistic person. I see light. -dony wynn

Oct 22, 2007 4:03 PM
****, I hope that my lengthy letter to you wasn't too much of a downer. I sometimes forget that I've kinda steeled myself through various means for all the oppressive shit that is in the air today, and I guess that is because, as I mentioned, I'm entirley hopeful that eventually everything is going to be okay. There is going to have to be a certain amount of evolution on our part to realize just what we're dealing with here and to make the corrections each individual will have to make on their own dime, in their own time. I do my bit, one on one. Who knows, I may have a larger calling one day, and if so, I will accept my responsibilities, but for now, I do all an individual can. I create my own ripples, in other words. On an entirely different note, am totally knocked out by your art, but don't want to get into that on this forum, preferring to do so in the form of a "comment". We've only been up for little over a week or so now, and I'm trying to personally reach out and touch each with whom we've made some sort of contact. A lot of work, but necessary right now, methinks. And I certainly will get around to you in the next day or so. Hang tough. -dony wynn

Oct 22, 2007 6:12 PM
You seem to have awakened something in me that has me thinking more than normal about our situation, and my thoughts are now on the arts. Yet another good thing, if one could call it that, about times of darkness and oppression, is that the arts THRIVE! We who are in tune feel these negative awful waves washing over us and it is a natural reaction to render forth our energies and your feelings in whatever medium we work, be it painting, poetry, music, etc. I know for a fact that Knuckle Yummy was born out of serious anger at all that is around us. I've never played the blues in my life! But I felt compelled to jump into this genre' with a vengeance as it is the way I'm using music to speak my voice. There was also another reason, too, as I'd been building a business for five years and when we filed for a patent on the biz model, we found out the fellow in charge, ex corporate guy from IBM, was actually trying to steal the patent for himself!!!! Mindblowing, but rather than lash out in anger, I rechanneled it by immersing myself back into a creative zone, and Knuckle Yummy is the result. So, on the "about me", when I mention being born from anger, I wasn't kidding. And I've gotten grief about being a white man playing the black man's music. My retort? We're all slaves, and all that I've been through, and all that we're presently going through, we're all slaves to some degree. So, I'm using my art, my voice to make a statement. And as I mentioned, I also do it on a personal one on one basis, too. We've all got to do our part. I'm sorry for filling your box, but again, it was as if a scab was ripped of by the letter you sent, and I do have my opinions so I let loose. You can post any of my letters if you like, by the way. That is another thing I do, write, and we can only hope that people still take words seriously, rather than putting faith in a video game. -dony wynn

Nitpicky

I’d just woken up when I looked out my bedroom window and saw it was snowing. And not just a little. Oh no. A lot. Heavy, even. Nothing to get excited about -snow is okay and all- but the thermometer on the balcony read a scorching one-hundred seven degrees, normal for these parts this time of year. Not so, the snow. So even though hard to believe, there it was, bigger than Dallas, snowing like hell in the middle of August in Texas.
I reached over and grabbed the ashtray from the nightstand. I found the roach and lit it, took a coupla hits. My stomach rumbled, the body’s way of demanding fuel of any sort and admittedly, mine was in serious need.
The fridge was empty, except for an unopened jar of Cheez Whiz.
I popped the top and dug in my thumb and pulled out a cheesy plumb.
As I stood in the middle of the kitchen and chowed down, still transfixed by the falling flakes outside my front window, I watched the snowstorm turn into a sideways blizzard while the sun shone bright, at the height of its midday arc as it was; a perplexing, unnerving scene, way beyond the devil beating his wife thing. Cheez Whiz sticking to the roof of my mouth wasn’t helping matters, either.
After having, for the most part, concluded my gourmet breakfast, I surveyed the street below and saw pods of people huddled there, all in bathing suits, sculpting, what appeared to be, snowmen, while the younger ones were having snowball fights and such. Everyone had a happy, devil may care attitude. I didn’t. This shit had me a bit geezed, but what the fuck could I do about it?
I retrieved last night’s joint and had a coupla more tokes. Bruised it. Kept my place on couch, watching nature’s freak show.
Sun still shining bright, the snow continued to fall. And despite the heat, was accumulating in sizable drifts. Traffic eventually slowed to a halt. People abandoned their cars, running everywhichaway. I scratched my balls, my tongue systematically removing the last bits of plastered Cheez Whiz from the roof of my mouth.
It wasn’t long, maybe a couple of hours or so, but by then the snow had almost covered all the surrounding houses. That quick! From my second story window all I could see were rooftops and chimneys. Cars were buried alive.
And then, as magically as it’d begun, the snow stopped. Cold.
I rolled another and waited.
Over the course of the next thirty minutes or so I watched the thermometer climb until it reached one-hundred fifteen degrees. Not normal for this time of year, any time of year, really. But after today, what the fuck was normal anymore?
The snow began to melt. Quickly. As if someone had opened a dam, the melting snow turned the street below into a small river, then in no time at all the river overran its banks and became an angry lake. Eventually the houses and cars were, again, swallowed whole by the rising tide. Out of nowhere the occasional rogue boat would appear, filled with freaked out people rowing their families, their pets, and a few precious belongings to God knows where. And they were the lucky ones. Others, humans and animals alike, were swimming aimlessly in the current, looking none too pleased with their odyssey. And there were others, too, lots of them, simply floating by.
I finished the joint.
Next I knew water was seeping under my door. I opened my front windows, knocked off the screen, and waited. Soon I, too, would be swimming my way to God knows where. There weren’t any other options.
I sealed the baggie of pot and stuffed it in my back pants pocket, then I took off my shoes and rolled up both pants legs.
Right before I jumped in I saw something that was almost impossible for my mind to accept... I watched the sun drop from the sky. Completely. In just a few seconds. It was there one moment, then it lurched at a queer angle, disappearing below the horizon with a huge-ass, horrifying roar, absolutely gone the next.
Our world plunged into utter darkness. Pitch black. Indescribably black. Almost immediately I was chilled to the bone. All I could hear were terrified screams looking for help, or demanding reasons why. The water that covered my apartment’s floors began to snap and crackle, freezing over. I leapt up on the couch.
Soon enough, and I mean frighteningly quick, the screams from outside stopped altogether.
All grew quiet, the darkness a black hole from which there wasn’t escape.
What could I do? What could anyone do?
Despite being able to barely comprehend all this, quite literally the end of the world in an afternoon, there was something oddly soothing about all this, like going back to the womb or something; so I lay down on my couch, pulled a blanket over me, and scratched my nuts. Life's simple pleasures, indeed.
Come to think of it, that Cheez Whiz wasn’t all that bad, either.

One Half of a Conversation

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“...”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?”

Fauntleroy and June

The day was hot. American flags rippled in front of all the brick houses on the block. Except his.
Man was sitting in his lounge chair on the front porch. There wasn’t a sound in the air. No people anywhere to be seen. No cars. No sirens. Just hot. A hot day.
Man sat there. Saying nothing, Doing nothing,. Thinking nothing. Man took a swig of his beer.
Man heard the sound. The sound of thumps. A series of quick thumps. Low thumps. Like the ground was coming alive.
Thumps got louder.
Man looked down the street.
Thumps got even louder.
Man took another swig.
Two ostriches, running side by side, tore down the middle of the street in front of the house and disappeared down the other end of the lane... the thumps getting softer... and softer... and softer.
Flies got to buzzing. Man halfheartedly swatted them away.
Man sat there, then looked up and down the block. Didn’t see anyone, anywhere.
Man leaned back, reached in his top pocket for the prescription bottle. Man opened the bottle and doled one out. Threw it back and chased it with a swig of beer.
Man thought to himself, “Things are looking up.”