HEROBALLING. 19 NOVEMBER 2023.

 

I saw the great Broey Deschanel's essay about the death of Movie critics, and since think I've bothered her enough, still have to say I was watching Sneak previews back as a 10 year old, with a father telling me movies , much less comic books, though he liked Prince Valiant stuff, were one half step above Sicilian puppeteers. But, she said something wise, despite her as just a girl, that there are people who wont there, who can not, or don't want to take a bad review when they lash out at all and everyone, but then the third act of Sejanus cant be as a genuinely funny as this old wop in his dotage, making movies about indigenous victims as a death toll teachers 10, 000 to the chagrin of even the angle of death Bidy, and his cohorts with Roman affectation names, and even Bernie did you cut the Toikey Sanders is horrified, so what was that about the Romans again, dears....Watched again on Saturday, the Peckinpah masterpieces, The Wild Bunch, wasn't Rodger shocked that it got a bad reveiw from the typists at the New York Times,...? The Romans will never get the full Scorsese, thank God, all Sicilians know their place, ah yes the Romans, they were men with sharp sticks as the Chosen People of God massacre 10, 000, and show a God worthy of a rapture of death that was in, as I found, in Etruscan historians first. Just like Christmas.

Not in the mood for the bucket of bullshit that is the Buffalo Bills, I eschewed watching Monday Night Football, like so much else, has seen its better days with Cosell when I and we were all kids, and i'm not going out on a limb to say that Junior Buck is not his father, is anyone...?, and that Troy is showing that they don't make North Dallas forty's like they used to do. But then, none of the house everything and jet sweep fans on ESPN are Cosell, or even Hank Stram for whats that worth, and we are amid yet another cheating scandal, that yet again we are being told is beatifically nothing by Praetorian television. I had no desire to see Everyone all American Josh play hero Ball this night, and dissented knowing my older sister liked watching these shows from her little girl past, we watched the Beverly Hillbillies, which showed when television was a vast wasteland, or lights and wires in a box, but certainly not as decent as today when a smirking queen how was against the first black president and Italian speaker nightly—he was a living satire you know, --brings out members of Parliament and Ministers of the home office, despite the fact that one would think by now, being so vociferously on the side of anyone who is dropped to 27 percent per your next travesty of a Roman triumph, well, you'd think by now a seemingly little twerp at his Daily uncle Funzy fun house would have by now figured that all this, especially with Axelrod as a newspaper with diminishing returns openly apologizes for bringing this Tonight show starring Cassius and I, Brutus to an unsuspecting new Rome, well, it doesn't auger well.

So, we sat and watched The Beverly Hillbillies, back from the age when even old man Paley and his bloody sheets, knew enough to know when Daniel Shoor and Tommy Smothers had to be shown the exits of black rock, after all, as any station that crated Gilligan's island isn't telling me who to not vote for, especially when on cable, he did the exact opposite , probably in heels somewhere along the line, like say being for a segregationist, showing a worse than Clinton lack of devotion, or taking a stand, or even moral equilibrium, which soon enough can turn one into a coward dying a thousand times. I still recall angrily how I was censored for, of all people, this creepy goon who had fallen upwards to CBS, and the Ed Sullivan theater where previously named Cosell did bring on the dying teen age boys, blind and wretched who dared create Superman, giving the always circling the Marvel offices after funerals Jack the hack and idea of what Jewish dirge he would try next to get the credit, bad were he was, and I did get an earlier this year written castigation of him and his inky life published in a non comic outlet showing anything can be compelling if you refuse being an insider. 

 

 

 

I recall how openly disliking this twerp, somehow bothered the curia that he had signed onto, was Hillary alerted that soon enough shed be recalled as toast mater at his perpetual tea party, at which Jesse often made quips about mudville, was she, as I warned in a piece about the burgeoning cooties of power, my having read the Betrothed, a silent masterwork to them all then, while bathroom water toasts were indeed made at Ed Sulllllivannnnns mausoleum, and Christmas fogs, was she even aware that this praetorian goon was planning to always be on the side of the good and decent rapists who came to power, lest anyone recall the black face and the death threats as these two bit Carson's, see Cosell above, had to festoon themselves in and swaddle in , as now stories about the bad girl boss that con artist at Tonight, smiling and laughing on cue, if not constantly anymore, like a hyena.

Or, was my Ma right, a called named or title, Ma, so discordant to the older Felix unger Favorite martian, really Ray Walston is their Guilgud, the fag brother on Frazier so sophisticated once, and now cringe-worthy as the gals would say as in repeats one wonders why no one at whiter that white ring around the collar, rope please, NBC, amid the wars they fidgeted and built el dorados of blood out of, no one saw the awfulness of this prick doing bad Kelsey Grammer takes and going after the pretty but not brunette or sexy enough for me English girl in the play, to the point he was practically a stalker of the sorts once sees brought on Curia Television between trials Vince the Chin keeps getting fed over and is not allowed to send his Lois Lane Chanley to do stand ups.[ this was written before they were sure that they would kick off the Saturnalia season not with an Ed Gwyn Santa and Maureen O'Hara and a curie pie Natalie Wood, or a Messy's Thanksgiving day parade hosted by the pop from Bonanza, but with once again, a stand in for Bush being targeted as the latest patrician hoodlum above reproach who lawyers end up at the end of Ropes, really the word Law is diverged from the ancient Italian for rope, a favorite joke of the smart ass Jesuits, as the filth and the rabble are invited to hurl squashes, or something that looks irritatingly like new world tomatoes offen Tuscan walls of graces, at their fallen figures as they crash to the Terra Below. }

 

 

But this was different than the usual horse manure and human cartoon I mostly avoid and do night time calisthenics to, as Bidens assault on Parnassus as an older nurse tells me has made the republic never so flaccid, never so pudgy, never so much like the sea of plebes that Mother courage Hillary once called the undesirables that are always just off stage on a Shakespeare plagiarized play, those he was allowed to finish as I almost refuse to use him as anything by a display of Forgers arts, as I was told his supposed monument , The tragedy of Pompey, was ixneyd by the bluebirds and doves, violent birds both, Elizabethan summers and its want for pucks and wickets, and that's why Julius Caesar, to even my boy's eyes seemed like two unrelated, unconnected, by anything but a dead king in an imperial corset in purple plays. This time, and like I said , if TV was a vast wasteland when I was a little kid because of a mod Batman, who didn't takeaway himself too seriously, or too too much to the point he was a farce, what is a drunken, mean, often used amid the stately paintings and hidden dorm rooms, and fireman's poles kept far away from the elderly aunts of Albany gardens. This time, the show that to Mad when I was a kid, epitomized the hart break of Psoriasis that was horrid tv, this time there was a special guest villain as Batman used to show, this time, the show revolved around the whole clan going back to the hills, yet again, but this time got permission to film at some early version of Branson and the American myth that no one understood before, or since, Disney was frozen and yet once again, an empire was laid waste by those trash who thought the golden door was slightly;y ajar for their myriads of SATYR-ICONS, IF NOT OUT AND OUT SALOS, AS I HAVE FIGURED AS MY OWN MA, YES MA, like Meathead and Lil Abner, you prissy bitch, WARNED ME AT THAT LATE HOURS THAT INDEED ANYONE WHO WOULD BE THERE WITH BIDEN, a Johnny Shneck from the times when Italian women were told openly as the nuns told me, only bad girls were raped, and only raped girls went to hell, and I am not kidding about the church of Irish pate-philes, AND that to her Biden was always THE KIND OF MAN who raped Italian women, if not kids, I heard an echo when he was leering at children from the soda fountain, a real Dobie Gillis jerk, and watching the prepubescent with a glee he shares with Constantine and Tyberius, along with the number of dead children I in all ways thought was a strike against him and his perennial Julian needs and ambition, a grievous fault, and how, and should have kept one one sane from redlining with his phosphoric dreams. Well, that and beguine against health care, as nothing personal, but he didn't bowling ball and scuttle my healthcare bill, Hillary darling. 

 

 

During this weeks episode, which was shown on on the cusp of that 1070 that was in many ways the beginning of end of much, the show that dominated CBS television and TV itself for much of the decade of Andy and May-berry and blond Jennies and blond wickets, ways with bad girl twins with black hair, strange when you think of the Mythologies stolen make a witch be married to a googly eyed character actor in a gray flannel suit, the show itself seems to know where things were heeded, as the great huckster actor Mr. Haney would say, despite their successes, CBS would eventually get rid of every show in which there was a tree. Of course this new found love of sophists, and I have my own problems with a show I thought quite sophisticated when I was young, the Dick Van Dyke show, as they put the pretty Brunette wife, how on earth did she pass the gate...?, I have my own problems with looking back, as they out her through much crap and was inches away from a hatred of all intellectualism, at least more than middle brow, and is always one step away from making dancing Mary, Richard Diamond's secretary, into a straitjacketing Chasity belt. But, within me starlings school that self same year, she would show Th-oust hath Conquered, lady Rose Marie. Onto tonight's return on the planet of reruns where the great Mad dropped cartoonist John Sevrein cede his brilliant Star Tracks, with a Srg Peppers tab-lough and circle all the stars you recall. Ellie Mae, the actually pretty Blond with the perfect named Italian word for woman, but kept in a kind of little girls stupor that the General Sarnoff's summed to fetishism, has to be married, YAHWEH BE PRAISED, INTERMARRIAGE AS SACREDNESS, as it funny that the old Confederate, don't worry Granny, soon enough Mario would be dead and anti Busing would be chic. Ellie is at old maid age of 14, or at least its that way in the Biden Home.

His past is prologue, if not epilogue, after all. Jethro, the perfect dilatation of that type at least until Bill Clinton showed up Gutenberg years later, is left to go to college at USC, whoso with only a sixth grade education, like Biden, but than that explains how the Bush boys got sheepskins, or at least the dumb ones who became president, as the Roman Key clubbers do not. The old coot Borgia son had the never say die or what, audacity, to show up at the Cowboys game which, since they played a trolley awful team, danced about like the queens of the maypole, Doomsday is here, uh huh, and wake me in January when closet coloreds on ESPN have to do rebuttals that they weren't laughing about how bad a black quarterback can be. On the show was the great character actor Raymond Bailey, as the Croesus of the piece, money grubbing, hungry, greed as gold lust, a Shylock other sued in comemdia del arte, and he had the prefect Cottonmouth smile for it. The homely secretary named for a sixth wife of Henry the 8^th, or vice versa, saw that the banker, always affable and amenable to his hillbilly investors, shameless and without remorse, was in that mansion, as a crew of Jethro's new buddies from the college, used as a clowns, as I notice that the Jews of Hollywood then just hated the beats, the howling fellow travelers, the licey and the dicey, the coffee house finger snappers, whippersnappers, those left to be buffoons after the best minds of their generation were snuffed out, they had signs and signs , like down with the dollars bill, they were against everything, and for nothing, and not a mention was named of anything earlier in the evening Charles Cultural so prefecture, poetically illuminated on the CBS EVENING NEWS, as not a copse in the south China Sea was ever so much as hinted at, as William S grumbled about the Brother mistrials on after Ed Sullivan to monster ratings on Sunday nights.

Then, maybe I had picked up on it as I watched this episode as opposed to many, my sister said aloud, That's meat head, she said matter of factually, and I squinted to see, indeed as a generalist version of the archetype he'd play ion his own Jewish opera, a show my father disposed of, as some cesspool within the larger wasteland of television, of which he wanted no part, there was scion of Alan Brady, and as I said Have my own problems with that show I look back, sadly, and Rob was an agitator, aint they are, as the local rag the Greens-burgh Tribune tries to unreal the Gordian knot of who is behind the riots of another group whose beliefs , as Machiavellian said, maybe more Giucciardini as it does have his more farcical comedy write elements, although Machiavelli was a playwright, too, are a night mare to contemplate to the curia of the bribed. On this relic, frozen in Amber was a cartoonist banker, worse than even Milburn Drys-dale at elast to Nancy Kulp, who was horrified to see the banker in the temple of prime rates before the Cauterization of America, and this is the second or third time in my lifetime you donkeys have stolen the Preatorium with a cover charge of now admitted to double digit inflation, and of course, wreckage in the desert.

The Monopoly man infrastructure of a banker, but probably not by much, the old fat bald over eating piggish man was puled by this all, and the signs that said such apostate verbs as down with the $, all is herascy, my mother said, to those who eat too much Tuscan flour—french Food-- in midday, as they do. The banker was upset so, and with an echo that was made even funnier by meathead being there, he called the radicals and the students for Democratic action, who would die at funerals paid for by inveterate banking, get this, Secessionists, Sedition, as a joke mind you, and traitors, and I thought who and what does that sound like. Ah, my pop said, don't eat shit for anyone, boy, as colletd wops as different as Andrew and Rudy, or for that matter dinner eating Joe Califano, as theyll give you nothing else, and I Wonder where was Meathead this very money shot of time , as his countrymen, for real and for true, are massacring pople with a glee that no General Silva ever had, maybe an Apache, no the year in which the over fed cunts, not Hillary I was told, she just adores Goulet in Kiss me Kate, or hubby does, or husband does love Ariosto, said there were no Romans, the Romans were men with shrap sticks as I said to again Saphic well wishing, who would tell me this year that These girls of Italay , they must take heed of them, was not from Coriolanus, as I thought, but All's well..., and not in some snide woman's studies way, but just to tell me , though if it was Shakespeare, I said it was stolen from somebody along the way. Now, the night that we know that indeed red Crescent hospitals are targeted by the born again Guns of October, even Trump TV weathermen and hair cuts seem all on board, before it was always just a mistake, but don't pull that Gordian knot too much or you'll see a flurry and clammed culture checks come floating to the ground. 

 

A night in which there is a human sacrificed to some God unspoken of , some bronze age monstrosity that pollacks can prey to, depsite his Desert clay tablets of truth, there is indeed human sacrifice going on and the gladiators mostly were volenteers and or killers brought from jails, and I notice as Jethro is the perfect imbecilic actor in this show, and Rob pays Yippie as he would until made a TA associate professor and sadly a co ed abuser, Norman has never been Basile, I see indeed that David Letterman will travel to the Ed Sullivan chatterer, will he whistle the Paul Lynde song from Bye Bye Birdie, as opposed to My Name is Steven Colbert, --I also got What and Leave Showbidness...? published this year, who will perturbed at almost 60 he never heard of it, as they sell off marquees, ah but you sold out long ago, when throw your own secretaries , all bloated Bill under the black rocks, to keep your own sham Rottensburger like sham Marriage afloat. I think back to meas a schoolboy and Ma, and ho she would tape Letterman for me, when I was actually allowed in a Jesuit high school, but was running on Requiems then anyway and Epilepsy would take its toll on me, and I sadly wondered why i'd ever have done half of what I did, if the world would be in the death grip white knickers of a dying old man with wolves eyes as Ma said, that look blankly out there, and were Id just bet shocked when Obama Repatriate David Axle-rod finally told all that the crows were to fly. I this year, actually got more words published than cartoons, and that is a new high for me I haven't seen since indeed those days in the early eighties, as even got my own Satyricon pieces published, and wish to finish at least 365 drawings this year and maybe next year avoid the swamp of politics altogether and finish “Other Voices, Other Rooms” about stories I was told about the New Yorker way back when, although now am sure, as ma said, old lady Biddy, young lady Putanana, and so no one at the now apology touring New York rags witch to recall what they were in the carefree days of Bill's Roma. I took some of the moneta I made off my letters and tales and went to Amazon, and bought a copy of The Neon Bible, the buttress to me of the two literary works as Wills, again something alerady ancient when Robert Graves stole it, and how I read that I think in a Penthouse in which a gorgeous Mindy Farrar was an epitome of a framers Daughter brunette, that I always liked and Dworkin and her ilk trashed as they were being openly paid to do by Hef, and I think no body is committing a veneration of mass death and mega murder over Ovid's Metamorphoses, once loved by Roman schoolboys and as usual, like Moby Dick, ignored by dimwits who just like being around, and are always looking in the wrongest direction.

So, another Saturnalia apposes, and I am fine. I did tell You tube, though, who sent me some ad at the most awful time for funereal services, as I look out and try this time dreaded than before to have a Bon Saturnalia without Ma, and my keep dreaming of an old father now gone thirty five years, and who in my less than apocalyptic dream space, I helped dress thed old man into a rarely worn suit and tie by him, and brought him to a fall parade by a Messy like New Amsterdam entrapment...department, store, as I felt he was almost brittle in the cold wind, but there he was none the less. So, try to figure that out Sigmunds, as this time where were no banshees, witches, no escapees, nope EC comics laughable monster mash ups. Send me this poison again, I warned them, at a holiday and i'll tell you what you can do with your vaudeville from homes, especially with Lindsay gone. I was alerted on Facebook a comic book company will be at something called Iron City con, or some such tying, as shall be Neve Campbell, of course who I had a crush on once as her being an anti Blond, and of course, Alec Barrrrrwin. Who I must admit, I have always liked since the halcyon days of Tom Snyder, you know when there was open hostility towards the lifer goon who would vote with 36 other Democrats against Health care. The year ends, or is it a Julian term...?, in which the Romans, men with sharp sticks are demeaned as God favorite foot soldiers, commits megadeath in hospitals and so I asked, no one on is killing in spades, or killing spades, over Ovid's metamorphoses are they...? I am alerted I am off the fairy land of Google in the land of the free, until November 28^th. Its a holiday, therefore, I don't much care. I succor recriminations about those days was watching David as refused to do the simplest thing for a Jesuit diploma that would be a passport to Georgetown , but alas I do think, no matter what I did or didnt do, I'm am not the one who somehow tiled my self into a corner where I must now work openly for the goon hack alderman trash, who only read cliff notes, if that, and I'm not the one who has to as I hear tell, go to the old posting grounds, now sold for parts, and allow my ether-ail blessing on some guy who, when he got the job, Tom Shales called it the end of old television. So there is , as they say while I get more letters accepted than drawings for a first time since then, always that on my side.