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Monday, June 29, 2009
Nutts!
(C) Stan Spire 2009
Blogspot makes cartoons too small. Fight back. Click on image and activate digital Viagra.
Blogspot makes cartoons too small. Fight back. Click on image and activate digital Viagra.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Summer Brings Out The Assholes
© 2009 Stan Spire
I leave a large bag on a table at a coffeehouse and walk over to talk to a friend at another table. It’s obvious with that bag there that someone is still using the table.
Then some dolt comes in off the street, shoves aside my bag to set up his chess set. I return to what had been my table and say, “Excuse me, I hope I don’t bother if I move my stuff out of your way.”
Dolt replies: “No, that won’t bother me.”
When the weather gets warm, the assholes come out of hibernation.
Later I’m walking down the sidewalk, keeping to my half. Six assholes approach me in a group, not bothering to bunch up a bit so that I could walk on at least half one-fourth of the fucking sidewalk. It’s like: “We own the sidewalk. Get out of the way!”
And then there’s the assholes that racing down the sidewalk on their bikes, especially from behind. You don’t hear them until they rip by you within a few inches. No cops around, of course. They’re too busy with the twofer sale at the donut shop.
Time for all assholes to go into hibernation once again – permanently.
I leave a large bag on a table at a coffeehouse and walk over to talk to a friend at another table. It’s obvious with that bag there that someone is still using the table.
Then some dolt comes in off the street, shoves aside my bag to set up his chess set. I return to what had been my table and say, “Excuse me, I hope I don’t bother if I move my stuff out of your way.”
Dolt replies: “No, that won’t bother me.”
When the weather gets warm, the assholes come out of hibernation.
Later I’m walking down the sidewalk, keeping to my half. Six assholes approach me in a group, not bothering to bunch up a bit so that I could walk on at least half one-fourth of the fucking sidewalk. It’s like: “We own the sidewalk. Get out of the way!”
And then there’s the assholes that racing down the sidewalk on their bikes, especially from behind. You don’t hear them until they rip by you within a few inches. No cops around, of course. They’re too busy with the twofer sale at the donut shop.
Time for all assholes to go into hibernation once again – permanently.
BBC-- You suck!!
© 2009 Stan Spire
When I watch the BBC TeeVee news on the local Public BS station, I don’t want the same crap you get from the typical American network “news.” I want to know about the important things in the world like what’s happening with the Dead End Wars (Iraq & Afghanistan, AKA Vietnam II & Vietnam III).
I don’t want fluff, especially entertainment “news.” So what do I get the other day? Twenty minutes straight of the BBC speculating whether or not Michael Jackson, the King Of Crap, was dead. The same shots shown over and over again outside the hospital where it’s been rumored – NOT confirmed – that he had been delivered by a meat wagon.
Is he dead? Let’s talk this to person who knows jackshit about Jackson. “I heard he died but I hope he didn’t, but I can’t confirm it, oh my…”
On and on this fucking crap went. I left the TeeVee on in the background like a radio while I did other things, waiting for some NEWS to come on. After twenty minutes of NOTHING I shut off the TeeVee. What did it was some twit girl on the phone with the BBC saying we all should light a candle for poor Michael, he might be dead, but I hope he isn’t…
Meanwhile soldiers are wounded, dying, in the Dead End Wars while the BBC goes on with prattle about some overrated androgynous mutant.
Moon walk to hell, BBC.
When I watch the BBC TeeVee news on the local Public BS station, I don’t want the same crap you get from the typical American network “news.” I want to know about the important things in the world like what’s happening with the Dead End Wars (Iraq & Afghanistan, AKA Vietnam II & Vietnam III).
I don’t want fluff, especially entertainment “news.” So what do I get the other day? Twenty minutes straight of the BBC speculating whether or not Michael Jackson, the King Of Crap, was dead. The same shots shown over and over again outside the hospital where it’s been rumored – NOT confirmed – that he had been delivered by a meat wagon.
Is he dead? Let’s talk this to person who knows jackshit about Jackson. “I heard he died but I hope he didn’t, but I can’t confirm it, oh my…”
On and on this fucking crap went. I left the TeeVee on in the background like a radio while I did other things, waiting for some NEWS to come on. After twenty minutes of NOTHING I shut off the TeeVee. What did it was some twit girl on the phone with the BBC saying we all should light a candle for poor Michael, he might be dead, but I hope he isn’t…
Meanwhile soldiers are wounded, dying, in the Dead End Wars while the BBC goes on with prattle about some overrated androgynous mutant.
Moon walk to hell, BBC.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Stan Spire Situation
© Stan Spire 2009
My philosophy: If you can’t join them, beat them.
In a previous post, “The Stan Spire Story,” I briefly explained what lead me here to this blog. But the main reason why I’m using this as an outlet is because no one in the mainstream media – either fiction or non-fiction concerns – thought my stuff was worthy. I failed to break the mainstream barrier.
Now I’m in the position to criticize the problems I see with corporate entertainment and news (or anything else that irks me). Sour grapes? Read my stuff and you can decide if I’m on or off target.
I mentioned in “The Stan Spire Story” that I used to have over 300 followers via email subscriptions. Now I’m reduced to a fraction of that with hits at this blog.
Putting aside my ego, I mulled over what caused the drastic drop and this one point reared its ugly little head:
Maybe the mystery surrounding me is too intimidating. It scares people away!
Ergo the last couple of posts about whom (or what) I am.
After all, it’s all about having a My Space personality, isn’t it? (Even if it’s a fake one.)
A few more details:
I’m at the bottom end of the economic scale. Not starving but not making a ton of money either. No car or home. Just treading water.
I’m someone who played the employment game and got screwed over repeatedly. Underpaid, overworked – the usual. My work history is divided between underemployment and unemployment. At this point I’m been forced to take early retirement; limited income.
I don’t expect anything to be handed to me. When it is, it’s usually pain and bullshit.
Besides the lowly status of no job, I live alone. Don’t get me going about the social scene here in Pits-burgh, NY. As for family – I have a vague recollection of what that term means.
Bitter?
What do you think?
My philosophy: If you can’t join them, beat them.
In a previous post, “The Stan Spire Story,” I briefly explained what lead me here to this blog. But the main reason why I’m using this as an outlet is because no one in the mainstream media – either fiction or non-fiction concerns – thought my stuff was worthy. I failed to break the mainstream barrier.
Now I’m in the position to criticize the problems I see with corporate entertainment and news (or anything else that irks me). Sour grapes? Read my stuff and you can decide if I’m on or off target.
I mentioned in “The Stan Spire Story” that I used to have over 300 followers via email subscriptions. Now I’m reduced to a fraction of that with hits at this blog.
Putting aside my ego, I mulled over what caused the drastic drop and this one point reared its ugly little head:
Maybe the mystery surrounding me is too intimidating. It scares people away!
Ergo the last couple of posts about whom (or what) I am.
After all, it’s all about having a My Space personality, isn’t it? (Even if it’s a fake one.)
A few more details:
I’m at the bottom end of the economic scale. Not starving but not making a ton of money either. No car or home. Just treading water.
I’m someone who played the employment game and got screwed over repeatedly. Underpaid, overworked – the usual. My work history is divided between underemployment and unemployment. At this point I’m been forced to take early retirement; limited income.
I don’t expect anything to be handed to me. When it is, it’s usually pain and bullshit.
Besides the lowly status of no job, I live alone. Don’t get me going about the social scene here in Pits-burgh, NY. As for family – I have a vague recollection of what that term means.
Bitter?
What do you think?
The Stan Spire Story
© Stan Spire 2009
What’s my story?
The germ: a one-page double-sided zine called “Anti-Press.” A satirical reaction to the local daily (news)paper. Published anonymously. The Plattsburgh daily paper never printed signed editorials, so why couldn’t I hide behind anonymity? I even used the editorial “we.”
Distribution was a problem. A restaurant owner told me “No more.” He had employees of the Plattsburgh paper as customers and didn’t want to offend them. Later his spineless weasel wrote a column for the paper. Just a coincidence, eh?
After two print issues I was going to give up. I took the material I had and published them online in newsgroups, just to get it out there.
Then Morbus of disobey.com came along. He liked my stuff and offered to publish it at his site. “Anti-Press” became “Anti-Press Ezine” (APE for short). At one point I had over 300 email subscribers.
An online magazine wanted to interview me about my ezine and online publishing. But the reporter told me that her editor wouldn’t accept “Anti-Press” as a name; I needed a more legit appellation.
Some anagrammatic magic and “Anti-Press” became “Stan Spire.” By this time I had dropped the editorial “we.” Too confusing. Some readers thought I had a staff working for me.
Morbus decided to take his site in a different direction. So I moved on to blogging: Anti-Express Express (to keep the APE abbreviation). Then I got tired of the APE business and wanted to focus more on myself as an individual character. Ergo, this blog.
“Character” is the key word. Besides personality, it also refers to persona. My online role. Alter ego, if you will.
As Stan Spire I can say what I want without the self-censoring forced upon me by public contact in meat space. And while some details in my posts might be a little vague, the essential truth is still there.
So here I am, like it or not.
What’s my story?
The germ: a one-page double-sided zine called “Anti-Press.” A satirical reaction to the local daily (news)paper. Published anonymously. The Plattsburgh daily paper never printed signed editorials, so why couldn’t I hide behind anonymity? I even used the editorial “we.”
Distribution was a problem. A restaurant owner told me “No more.” He had employees of the Plattsburgh paper as customers and didn’t want to offend them. Later his spineless weasel wrote a column for the paper. Just a coincidence, eh?
After two print issues I was going to give up. I took the material I had and published them online in newsgroups, just to get it out there.
Then Morbus of disobey.com came along. He liked my stuff and offered to publish it at his site. “Anti-Press” became “Anti-Press Ezine” (APE for short). At one point I had over 300 email subscribers.
An online magazine wanted to interview me about my ezine and online publishing. But the reporter told me that her editor wouldn’t accept “Anti-Press” as a name; I needed a more legit appellation.
Some anagrammatic magic and “Anti-Press” became “Stan Spire.” By this time I had dropped the editorial “we.” Too confusing. Some readers thought I had a staff working for me.
Morbus decided to take his site in a different direction. So I moved on to blogging: Anti-Express Express (to keep the APE abbreviation). Then I got tired of the APE business and wanted to focus more on myself as an individual character. Ergo, this blog.
“Character” is the key word. Besides personality, it also refers to persona. My online role. Alter ego, if you will.
As Stan Spire I can say what I want without the self-censoring forced upon me by public contact in meat space. And while some details in my posts might be a little vague, the essential truth is still there.
So here I am, like it or not.
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