Sunday, December 26, 2010
Lohbado went to the annual Club Morono Baby Jesus Dinner down at the Tabernacle, the place of mythology and suspension of disbelief. Strong emotions surged through his long thin body, as he sat in the banquet hall, polluted with pop tunes filtered through the drone machine and compressed by drop-tile ceiling speakers to lower sound to a flavorless, easy to digest sonic consistency, like baby food. All in a positive light, no leaks, only officially endorsed subliminal messages to grease public awareness into swallowing hard pills, as wealthy control groups laughed up their sleeves at how easy it was. Another two years of tax breaks; reduce assistance to sick, poor, unemployed and elderly.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Lohbado had Christmas blues, good evil routine, sin forgiveness merry-go-round, the wheel of happy sad, good times bad times, arrogant and on top of the world a while and then at the bottom, afraid, suspicious and discouraged. The blues ended as three wise aliens appeared in the east and communicated with Lohbado via a Zog-voice-de-scrambler.
Monday, December 13, 2010
What would you like for Christmas? How much is that gray cat in the window, not to mention the golden good luck cat or the red bicycle? The window also features the Moronovian syllable "OR", which means, the great alternative. It's also the French word for gold. In other words, the situation holds rich possibilities. Whether things go one way, or the other, the results will be favorable.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
One night grandmother got really drunk. She stole her grandson's scooter and drove around the village, screaming and hollering in her nightgown. She tried to seduce a man in front of his wife. They slapped each other, pulled hair. Later her husband got angry.
She said: "Don't judge. There's a reason things are the way they are."
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Funny smell, is it my breath? Do I have toast and coffee, kitty litter breath in the morning? It takes a couple cups of hot coffee to burn away the slime and muck that coats mouth and throat after a night in bed. The bed serves as a doorway to dreamland. Sometimes disconnected mind appears to communicate with dead friends and family.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Jagged A, neon C, cool purple B and a hot H separate food booth signs in the food court. One booth, red, white and green sells pizza. The next booth, red and white, Chinese food; next, the hot dog bistro, then Halal falafel, Ranchito Latino, dumplings, club sandwiches and so on, enough food to keep a glutton busy for weeks. A steady buzz of background pop tunes filtered through speakers set into the drop-tile ceiling, this is where the remarkable encounter with a space alien occurred.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Expozine this weekend, along with a comic, The Wheel of Lohbado.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
There's nothing worse than waking up in darkness and having to pee. One time I woke up in pitch black and thought the body had become a corpse and that nothing was left but the thought of having to use the toilet. This absurd thought lasted only a few seconds as I stumbled for the light switch. In Greek mythology, there's a dream temple. The word temple is too obviously loaded with connotations, no point going on about it. In Club Morono, the temple provides a giant container where one could sit and listen to the echo of thought, or maybe even try to catch a glimpse of thought itself.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Wearing the three-propeller decorative head dress to symbolize the three zeros or significant Os, this chief priest of Nomroh allowed me to capture his image with pen and paper during a recent Club Morono gathering at the tabernacle above the butcher shop.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Most people know the meaning of coffee break, however, in Club Morono, one frequently takes an egg break. Eggs provide protein and a connection to the mother of all breakfasts, the hen. What would tempera painters from the renaissance have done without good old egg yolk to bind pigment to the picture surface?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Before composing an inspirational homily about the after life heaven on Planet Blop, I went to the cafe down the street for morning coffee. An hour of coffee, prayer and contemplation at the cafe in the strip mall this morning, order a medium black coffee. Sit at a table where a man just got up and left, seat still warm. Waves of chatter from people gathered around tables made it difficult to concentrate, but at the same time, made my mind more fluid and receptive to messages beaming down from the enlightened Planet of Blop, to guide world-wearing beings down the hard road of life.
Friday, October 1, 2010
"All human things are subject to decay/ And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey:" John Dryden, MacFlecnoe. Peachy last week, ripe for eating, meditating on a cushion of butter, this week, the peach was old, wrinkled and prickly. Did you still want to eat it?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Mother knew the horrors waiting down the road for boys who persisted in playing in the basement with crow spirits, ravens, those huge black, shiny birds of midnight. The grid of time warped and twisted, day became night and night became day. Mother warned me to cease and desist forthwith.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Black Cat Road leads to the ocean, to vast, desolate beaches where a mind could wander into the waves. Toss the wandering mind into a sea of amniotic fluid. An old, arthritic, half-blind, nearly deaf black cat showed up to greet us as we pulled up to a farm house off a red dirt road.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Cement viaducts, wooden power-line poles, foliage with a dull sheen of gray-green light, tall tunneling situations, flat open panoramas, cluttered hectic detritus sections unfold like images on a page. Sit back in the seat and read the experience as one would read a book. Roads and freeways form story lines. Buildings, fields and clumps of forest are the characters of this waking dream, or situation of sit back and enjoy the ride. Can't sleep. Explain later. Nothing to explain.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
I went to a discount store at a local shopping plaza, about a ten minute walk from here and bought a suitcase for 70 % off the regular price of $ 200. It came to $ 60. I checked out other econo brands and after unzipping a few, checking interiors, handles and wheels, settled on a Lohbado-style suitcase.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
A friend sent an email about slow moving traffic through a tourist region along a famous stretch of salt water. It brought back memories of doing cross country trips with the family, back in the sixties. Every so often, my father would blow a gasket, pull out and pass 3 or 4 vehicles in a row, sometimes forcing on coming traffic off the road, on to the gravel shoulder. He had these dangerous, erratic outbursts, sort of like road rage.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Choking, I got up at 4 AM, did a post on Dreaming Man, had breakfast and went for coffee down the street. Unpleasant physical symptoms often give rise to negative thoughts. The negative thoughts won't go away until I write down what they appear to be saying. They're like demons, wanting to be heard. I let them have their say and then they dissolve and my mind can relax and cheer up.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Bush Grandmother said one could never laugh too much. Fresh outpourings of joy are needed in a world suffering environmental disaster, endless moneymaking human-destroying wars, hypocritical moralizing, pseudo-spiritual sentimentality, wishful thinking and denial.
Friday, June 18, 2010
This photo of Ungava Bay Road I took a few years ago up in Nunavik, doesn't resemble where the following story took place, but it happened to be a photo at hand. The story is about the last time I had breakfast with Grandfather Woodlot, a ninety-eight year old hermit in the coastal mountains.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sometimes the Great Nomroh kicks me out of bed in the middle of the night and tells me to reveal more of his secrets. It's now 3:40 AM, I will speak of the conflict between the Nomroh and the Yees and why the ancestors of Lohbado adopted brown and green as preferred colors.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
(Photo from Lighbulb Man series). Lohbado bumped into the renowned vermicellist, Dr. Pastrami Linguini down at Bobo’s Pizzahrea. Dr. Pastrami, at the lunch counter, set down his ham sandwich, wiped mustard from the lips and licked melted spumoni off his fingers. Dr. Linguini liked to eat first course and desert together, alternating spoonfuls of Italian ice cream, candies and foam on top with bites of ham and rye sandwich.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
As a devotee of Morono culture, I went to the Macdonald’s on the corner for a small black coffee and to clear the lungs of damp, musty basement apartment air, before returning in order to get to work on text and image. I love you baby; baby I love you. Does anyone own a copyrite on the words: "I love you,"? Please baby, try to understand.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010. Wednesday. 8:40 AM. Quickly now tell me, the experience of walking from the kitchen to the living room and back. Gray, damp morning light in the apartment, walk into the living room, gaze upwards, out the window placed at street level and make eye contact with the man on cement front steps across the street.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Richard Wilson, a photographer who lives in London, England, took the above photo and sent it in response to the can of worms situation mentioned in the last post. A can opener makes opening the can much easier. This can opener is special because it contains the words: “king of” and then the worm, in other words, king of the worms.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Crash the infamous JG Ballard novel about the combination of sexuality, car accidents, death and freeway-era culture. I've been enjoying a chapter every day over morning coffee, while doing my best to tune out background music, which is part of the dehumanization of modern technology, to bombard people with noise so it's hard to concentrate on anything.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The characters on this site are imaginary. It's not autobiographical and resembles nobody. However, they are valuable stories in the struggle of good to overcome evil. Maybe this story is too shocking and you should read no further. The story underlines the importance of good and the futility of bad.