I’m a mildly misanthropic iconoclast and traitor to my birth-assigned class, who enjoys nothing more than sowing cognitive dissonance among the 80 to 90 percent of English-speaking fellow humanoids whose views and behaviors I fail to appreciate. I’m also here to get any marginally interested fellow humanoids as well as a vulnerable criminal oligarch or two hooked on reading, viewing or listening to every scrap of art(ifice) I post on this algorithmic swamp. I don’t give a fuck about money, fame or influence. I care about inciting in vulnerable people the sort of frisson that the work of Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut, HL Mencken, Miles Davis, Joni Mitchell, Hunter S Thompson, Aretha Franklin, Jeff Beck, Sly Stone, Terry Gilliam, Martin Scorsese, David Lynch and other soul-searing “content creators” incited in me.

Do not presume due to anything I crap out onto this thoroughly compromised and ultimately counterproductive “platform” that I can be persuaded to join in your efforts to build some sort of “coalition” or “movement,” or to “resist” something or someone. I may be just as pissed off as you are, but my job remains to plant the seeds of awareness and walk away, not put my ugly head in front of the threshing machine.

For example, the following passage, while possibly intriguing to somebody, should not be construed as an invitation to try and lure me into a spiritual cul-de-sac. I’m just attempting to get people to listen to a whole fucking song:

As a genetically skeptical entity raised in a family of spiritualists and Christians, I’ve always been on the outside, looking in. My two most spiritually active siblings, both “seers” and “mediums,” failed to predict their swift, horrific and far too early exits from this realm. Yet I, the card-carrying nonbeliever, apparently get the green light to carry on indefinitely. Ironic, yes?

And yet …

Some time in 1977, during what I assumed at the time was a jazz-oriented period of my life (I was 25), the song linked to below came to me, almost fully formed, as if in a dream. I called it “Moonman.” I did not know at that time that astrophysicists were simultaneously listening to a “wow signal” from the direction of the constellation Sagittarius, in the same small slice of the cosmos from which 3I/Atlas appeared in July. The thing is lurking behind the Sun right now, doing god knows what. Probably nothing, but …

Again, I don’t necessarily believe in any of this woowoo, but you might. Enjoy! The first verse goes like this:

Seen my life

from a distant place

From high in the sky

On a seed in space

Blue metal womb

Of an exiled race

Waiting to land

A new age of man

From the Moon

I’m a moon

(Don’t be crazy)

And here’s the last verse, which, incidentally, sums up my entire shitty attitude, which unfortunately hasn’t appreciably changed since I was a dumb fucking teenager:

My whole life

is a brilliant dream

revolving in space

‘round a central theme

Orbiting slowly through all your schemes

Waiting to fly

with a gleam in my eye

to the moon

I’m a Moonman

(Don’t be crazy)

If YouTube is anathema to your sensibilities, Moonman is also on SoundCloud:

https://on.soundcloud.com/4c81KtNstqXrOWOcfL