Archive for March, 2017


One of the Good Ones


Mayor Joe Hogsett did a meet and greet with the constituents and maniacs that dwell in one of the worst crime areas of his city this past Saturday, and I was lucky enough to watch (who I consider) one of the good politicians that day. During a time when our House and Senate seem to mock the very existence of our Constitution and harbor themselves in dens of cronyism and pure fucking greed, here stood a man Saturday who was willing to go among those who help make up Sleepytown to say hello, I am your mayor. This was not high end rich folks in a subtle suburban setting…no, he jumped right in at the 10th Street and Rural locale, the old NESCO (Near Eastside COmmunity) neighborhood that has turned into a slum of punk thieves, desperate hookers and inexperienced grifters. Not more than ten minutes before he showed up to walk the streets with the IMPD Chief of Police Brian Roach and some other community figures, I witnessed a guy run from cops, which turned into a B&E after he got into a building to hide from them. They tried to flush him out but it was Saturday afternoon and the business the man fled inside was closed for the weekend. The location is notorious for scams and shootings, but all the local businesses in that vicinity want to make a decent living, which led to these steps from the Mayor’s office to start doing something, I assume.

My initial reason for being down on 1oth was not to see him – I didn’t even know he was going to be there, but once I found out he was supposed to show up I thought I might as well stay and check this out. I knew a little about this new mayor so here was an opportunity to further my knowledge on him. My first spotting of Joe Hogsett was at the downtown Indy Gay Pride celebration last year, where he showed up in support of the event by marching along with the grand parade that’s held in Indianapolis. Involvement from his office with downtown businesses met a halfway point on some city money appropriations in support of the arts, so, those two items were a couple of credits I could give to Joe. He was a mover and a shaker and a poster child at supporting my observation that local politics works quicker with more immediate impact (proportionately) than federal politics. So many here are trying to forget that our current Vice President used to be the Governor of Indiana, a twisted, soulless kind of Governor that tainted the image of the people who live here. The penance Hoosiers were willing to suffer to get him out of Indiana was to let him be carted off for the inane, mostly ineffective job of being a Vice President. I could go off down the rabbit hole which Mike Pence, the Crimson King and his gang who work at destroying things for you and me, but my main premise for this post was my observation of what turned into a positive experience with a local politician; one of the good ones. Joe was out there shaking hands with store owners and firefighters, street people – the type people you see who just sit there for a couple days and never leave that spot on the street. He listened and shook hands and I could see the synergy he was bringing to this normally hate infested side of town. At the very least, you want your political leaders to not break anything…if they can just do that, not break anything, then I have to say they’re one of the good ones. Not necessarily a great one, but at least, a good one. Joe wasn’t out here breaking anything, so Joe is one of the good ones.

The weekend came and went and gave me time to reflect on the Hogsett visit to 10th and Rural, and that’s when my mind remembered something eerie from Trump rallies I attended during his run for the White House. There was that same semi-mesmerized stare in people following Trump as I saw from people meeting Joe Hogsett out there on 10th. Successful politicians always end up becoming a polished presentation and will practically hypnotize crowds with their charm and charisma. Powerful, successful people, all have this aura about them that attracts others to them as if they are somehow a part of the person they just met. If you get to shake the hand of a pro athlete or meet a famous singer or someone even famous on a local level, these type people can make anyone fall victim to following them with rose colored glasses in times of falter, so I am beginning to understand part of the Trump support that led him to the Presidency…but there again, I did not want this post to turn into a tirade on Trump, I wanted it to be a nod in favor of the job Joe Hogsett is doing. One of the good ones…and the fucker pulls it off with a last name like Hogsett…bravo.


Saint Pats; Celebratory Hyperbole


Each year I have the need to go out and remind myself why I think St. Patrick’s Day is the saddest holiday of them all. This year was no different. I did a pretty good bar crawl across Sleepytown to witness how Indianapolis watering holes and historically deemed places of Irish celebration took on the DrinkFest America has turned the holiday into. America has molded St. Pat’s Day into a monstrosity that has little or no connection to the origin of the Irish celebration, like we did with Cinco de Mayo and Easter. We tend to take things to extreme out of frustration and our instinct to create a societal bastardization of a good thing kicks in way too often. Our celebrations, our politics, our religion….we mutate them into sad statements on our culture as a whole. Saint Patrick’s Day proves that to me each and every year.

The weather was grey and a bit on the wet side for Patty’s Day, but it wasn’t nasty enough to keep the crowds inside. The rash of pounding we’ve all received from our politics as of late is leaving everyone with a desire to go out and purge the poison our media pumps us with on a daily-hourly-basis. For a successful St. Pat’s evening for bar owners, the weather just needs to be a bit tolerable, a bit on the sweater rather than coat side, and the masses will get out to drink cheap green colored alcohol – and not just any alcohol, but the low end margin of beers and bar liquor priced to make a killing for the bar owners.The kind of liquor guaranteed to give most of us a fuzzy headache the next day; everyone seems to be re-reminded of that, each and every year. I ran into cheap Irish Car Bombs being made with some off-brand whisky and felt the crime in not using Jameson for an Irish Car Bomb. No Jameson in your car bomb? To hell with tradition, they want to make an extra dollar. Budweiser went into full production with green colored aluminum cans of their headache beer to sell the masses for an outrageous price. One of the stops along my crawl deemed a ‘must-see’ for St. Patty’s Day in Indy, was some small dive that made you pay a five dollar cover, just so we could be hustled back behind the bar where you stood around in a rocky, wet, muddy pit of depression with the other bastards who paid to get there. No free token for the five dollar cover, just expensive brats and cheap green colored spit I would not touch. One of the bars I attended (probably a pretty standard practice) sectioned off patrons so those buying hard liquor inside the bar weren’t allowed to take it outside in the open air/tent area. Some festering little law somewhere, I suppose, to keep the bar owners from losing their ass when one of the amateurs drinking cheap green beer decides to order a Crown and Coke and goes off the deep end, but this just brought my attention even more, as to how they had this entire event corralled into something not as fun and light as it should be.

One day prior to Saint Pat’s I went to a small local event in my neighborhood; Open Mic Poetry night, which is held at a little coffee shop near by, as all poetry readings should be. That’s one tradition they haven’t fucked apart yet and I try to support events like this when they happen. The small crowed gathered and listened as people went up to the microphone to pour out their emotions. True therapy for those listening, as well as those performing. For many attending, this is their one vestige of sanity from the demented world we all work so hard to create. Real life encounters with drug abuse and suicide, worthless relationships and all sorts of torture, all those problems, put on paper and read to a crowd for the sake of feeling better about themselves. Some times, people can cope, as long as they have a little window to look through, somewhere to participate in something as simplistic as poetry reading. For that moment, they are a star and the world applauds them, in spite their fucked up lives and fucked up minds..for a little while, they are loved.

-The next day I witness St. Patrick’s Day and see the inibrietated approach to soothing the nation’s temperament. I suppose all that green beer gave momentary happiness to folks who never get out, never attend a poetry reading, or see a local play. I suppose for the people who never see a burlesque show put on by the artisans who do it for the love of the craft, not for the money, St. Patrick’s Day is what they’ve come to expect, and nothing more. I suppose it’s quicker to them than hunting down a show of local indie bands they could go listen to. They get out that one evening and drink themselves into a stupor just to surmise that all neighborhood celebrations must be like this; a night of over priced alcohol in a forced social surrounding of green hats and bad attempts at Irish music and it forces them to stay in, assuming all events are like this…and that is why I loathe Saint Patrick’s Day so much..not for what it is, but for what it is not.


This is What Democracy Looks Like


A little more than fifty years ago, Malcom X addressed a rally in New York to call for freedom, justice and equality ‘by any means necessary’. By 2017 we have devolved into tribes of spineless quasi-protestors reminiscent of the hapless morons I witnessed years ago on the streets of Denver, Colorado. Eagle Force Five (see The Church archive October, 2011 “Eagle Force Five, You Have Failed Us Again”) has brushed itself off and been thrown back into the mix of local antagonists, resembling a bunch of whining little babies with no power whatsoever. People shake their fist in anger online at the mighty Crimson King and blame Trump for everything currently wrong in this world, yet what are they doing about it?  Did someone cut off their balls and leave them to be a squatting group of eunuchs holding poorly made protest signs? Creeping Jesus shit people, they shout to the heavens that ‘this is what Democracy looks like’…..well, I’m unimpressed, Democracy, and you are achieving nothing.

I have covered the last few protests in downtown Indy with mi hermano and the last 3 have proven to be little more than a few dozen protestors, 125 people tops, gathering to lift signs and chants slogans to let their voices be heard, but in reality, most the world here and all over go about their daily lives with hardly a notice paid to the movement to stop our current Administration. Only the truly devoted would have spent time on the state capital grounds to rally against DAPL and Immigration policies being enacted or LGBT legal status; the unity to bring down that one factor which brought all this travesty about, the overlord we are coming to know as the Trump Administration, continues to pick away at our freedoms….or does it?

The world online that is fed by an unending stream of pro-Right/pro-Left agendas hammers away at our screens nightly, working the masses into an online fit of rage and punishment that never seems to accomplish a thing. Progressive liberal talking heads and green thumb websites spout off daily statistics to show all the awful atrocities which continue to go on, yet what is really being accomplished? Is anything stopping them? I say no, not a fucking thing is being done to fix these issues. There are words of unity and cooperation by masses of folks online, dedicated to write angry emails and click little buttons to show support against our oppressors, but nothing is really being accomplished. The right wing enthusiasts say give Trump time to get things working, yet everything his plans continue to whittle away at personal freedoms. The left wing supporters pray for more folks to show up to rallies to hold more signs, but what does this do? It might bring about more public awareness but if you aren’t aware by now, you never will be. I have gathered and talked to groups of individuals on both sides of the political spectrum and neither side seems satisfied with things, yet no one is willing to go to the extreme Malcom X spoke of; no one is willing to set the bar at ‘by any means necessary’. I get people saying we need stronger organization of committees, focus on an agenda to take the power away from the White House, all which sounds good in theory, but in reality, I saw that enacted years ago when Eagle Force Five failed the masses efforts to bring down Wall Street. They couldn’t govern themselves, let alone a nation of potential protestors. We are doomed and this is Hell.

I may continue this sermon in a few days but covering the few protests out in sub zero weather left me with near fatal consequences – a nasty bout of adrenovirus, pneumonia and influenza, all at the same time. I was placed in the hospital for just over a week trying to recuperate from it all and so now I need to heal and evaluate what I’ve witnessed, although I can’t say it looks too promising, with regards to the protestors accomplishing anything. Doubt me at my word, if you will, but I have seen it in realtime and the reality of it is, if we rely on Eagle Force Five to fight the battle to oppose the Crimson King, he will continue to reign victorious.

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March 2017

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