Green Faeries Ruminating on Van Gogh’s Ear

It would seem that absinthe is becoming more prevalent in spite its prohibited status. It is appearing on television shows from time to time and virtually every European country has removed the ban on this product. I love the common sense ruling by the Dutch two years ago that there was no proof that absinthe is more dangerous than other liquors so it should be legal. Common sense in American politics? Thomas Paine, where art thou?

 In my travels in Europe I have indulged in absinthe on numerous occasions. I have also brought home absinthe for home use. I have found it to be an enjoyable drink and have yet to experience any delirium or even a viscous hangover. My absinthe experience at home includes proper perigord glasses, perforated spoons and a water fountain with four taps for proper preparation. I make certain to keep a stock of sugar cubes to entertain guests with properly served absinthe. I will not pour absinthe in a shot glass like an animal.

 There are many brands of absinthe now available. The French, Czech and Spanish seem to be most prevalent in making absinthe. The Swiss and Germans are also making significant waves in the absinthe subculture. I have had experiences with absinthe from all of these countries. I have bottles of absinthe from all of these countries sitting on my shelf. The traditional absinthes will generally be green although the Swiss have a penchant for clear absinthe. The Spanish and Germans tend to be more creative. We are seeing red and blue absinthes. There are also several black absinthes which often attain the level of 160 proof. The Spanish even have a violet absinthe which I have yet to try.

My initial experience with absinthe goes back a decade to my first visit to Prague. I was wondering through the Stare Mesto drinking in pubs. I happened upon a general store which had bottles of absinthe displayed in the windows. Did anyone really think I was getting out of Prague without indulging a green fairy? I bought a small double shot bottle which I drank straight from the bottle. Little did I know my sins.

 I was curious enough to try more. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve stumbled across the Charles Bridge at 3 AM on an absinthe and beer buzz with fog rolling off the Vtlala River and the statues of the saints breathing relentlessly down upon you. Other night dwellers appeared as silhouette figures as the moon shot down beams of mystical light. The Astrology Clock in the Old Town Square actually told time that night. It told me it was time to get back to the apartment and watch reruns of Baywatch dubbed into Czech.

 That was the early initiation. I have learned quite a bit about proper preparation. The traditional French method is to sit a sugar cube on a perforated spoon and drip water on the sugar. As the sugar drips into the absinthe, it will make the absinthe turn cloudy. Some of the better brands will turn a yellow-ish color. The sugar gives the absinthe a nice minty, licorice type flavor. Straight absinthe can be bitter at times.

 In Prague this past Spring I found a place called Absinthe Time. This establishment on Kremoncova is practically right across the street from U. Fleku,  the oldest brewpub in the world. Here I learned a bit about preparing absinthe. A beautiful Vietnamese girl dressed in all green taught me both the French and Czech preparations for absinthe. The Czech preparation involves fire so I am hesitant to try it at home. She also learned me a few mixed drinks. The Three Musketeers is a concoction of absinthe, tequila and Sambuca. Surprisingly smooth, actually.

 Having the water fountain is a great item. It worked well at my recent party. Some people tried the absinthe. Many merely wanted to witness the spectacle of proper preparation. The host graciously prepared absinthe for friends and crashers. The host also indulged in La Fee Parisian and Zelena Absinth Muza. The first was a French absinthe, the latter a Czech. The first was the better of the two.

 My favorite absinthe so far is the King of Spirits which is made in the Czech Republic. This absinthe features a picture of Van Gogh on the label. This absinthe is very flavorful. It costs a little more but it is well worth the extra bucks. Buy it overseas rather than ordering through the internet to save some money. It is well worth it for the experienced absintheur and the apt pupil of La Fee Verte.

 It will be interesting to see how the actual legal status of absinthe changes in America. It is already semi legal to possess as long as you don’t sell it or distill your own. I have actually shown bottles of absinthe to customs agents at airports who merely shrugged and sent me on my merry way. This is an interesting drink with an interesting history. More absinthe adventures and tales will be forthcoming to be sure.

 Stay tuned. . .


There were a lot of people that voted for Obama that weren’t liberal or Democrat.  They were people who were looking for a messiah.  They wanted someone that could come in and miraculously fix all the problems overnight.  They don’t want to roll up their sleeves and work hard to make things better.  They wanted an easy fix.

Of course, being human, Obama wasn’t able to fix everything overnight.  This was the origin of what many now refer to as the Obama-trump voter.  There were people that voted for Obama twice and then switched to trump.  There was no ideological reasoning.  There is no political consistency.  These were the weak minded people that believe in this fantasy that a president can come in and fix everything.  They don’t understand the difference between a president and a savior.  If you want a savoir, go to church or a synagogue or mosque.  You aren’t going to find a savior in the voting booth.

Of course, a lot of republican strategists saw this mentality and figured, we need a candidate that can fit this bill.  A lot of people don’t realize that republican strategists were talking with trump about running for president as far back as 2011.  They wanted him to run against Obama in 2012.  They figured that he can go out and attract these people that are looking for a savior.  Since there is little political or ideological conviction among these folks, it’s easy to get them to switch from one party to another.

Of course, the person getting conned is generally not in on the joke.  They are being played.  They are being told that they’re really smarter than other people.  They’re being told that they are better than the other people.  They are being relieved of responsibility for the inadequacies in their own lives.  It is appealing to have somebody else to blame for what is wrong with your life.

Obama is a very rational individual who didn’t have much interest in abusing this false faith that many of these early supporters had.  The problem now is that you have a pre-eminent con artist with no conscience in a position to abuse the blind faith of the naïve.  You have a person who realizes he can abuse the power for his own purposes.  I don’t think you necessarily have bad or evil people.  I think you have desperate people who are too weak to look up and see the truth.  They can’t admit to themselves that they’ve been hoodwinked.

The really sad thing is that we don’t need a savior in the White House.  We just need a president that can go in and do the job.  We don’t need a celebrity or a star.  For politics, boring is better.  If you are doing the job well, nobody will be talking about you.  If you’re being discussed every hour of every day, it really indicates that you failed.

We can make our lives better on our own.  We need to look within ourselves and we need to be willing to figure things out for ourselves.  We can make smart investments and smart choices in our lives.  We can make the world better for ourselves simply by living better lives.  We don’t need a conald to make our lives better.  In the long run, the conald will only make things worse for everyone.  Let’s hope America figures that out before it’s too late.


So proof of Nostradamus’ prophecy is the submarines?  He wrote about a “fish with a human face” That must be a submarine.  But how do we really know.  Was he foreseeing a submarine or was he just trying to predict Charlie the Star Kist Tuna?  That is a fish with a truly human face—albeit animated.  Maybe he was really just predicting the advent of cartoons.  The world may never know.

Fish with human face

submerged beneath the ocean

fecklessly spying

the Nazis and the Russians

observing talking tuna


So now we have Scott Baio whining that he can’t get roles because he’s a conservative.  This is funny considering that Vince Vaughan and Clint Eastwood have little difficulty in getting work in spite their conservative views.

Let’s analyze things in a more realistic manner.  Scott Baio has always been a good looking guy.  He’s never been a particularly gifted actor.  He benefited from the looks.  Hollywood producers making movies and TV shows will very often need eye candy in the film.  We usually think of this for women but it also applies to men.  There are times that they want eye candy for the ladies so they look for a male bimbo.

So when they needed a good looking guy for the ladies, they would seek out an actor like Scott Baio to fill the role.  Now, we’re several decades past his prime.  He’s still a good looking guy—for his age.  So when producers need the male bimbo, they aren’t going to call him.  There are younger and prettier boys available.  They’re going to go for the newest 22 year old flavor of the month.  It’s their turn now. 

Nobody cries political bias for the actresses that got by on their looks as young ladies.  We just accept that they filled a purpose as eye candy in films and now they’ve been usurped by younger prettier models.  Why should it be any different for men?  If all you are is a bimbo—male or female—you will stop getting offers. That is simply the shallow culture in which we live. 

The younger ladies the filmmakers are trying to woo don’t want Grandpa Scott.  For fantasy purposes, I don’t even think the women his own age want him anymore.  We alL go for the young Adonis or Aphrodite in our fantasies.  There is very little prejudice at work here.  It’s simply a matter of a one trick pony going past his expiration date.  Take a few acting lessons and you might get some roles on Hallmark movie specials.  There might be room for him in the fantasy lives of the elderly women watching those movies.


It seems to me that every 4 years you have a presidential election and all of a sudden, they come out of the woodworks:  The people whining that we need more than two choices; that we have to have more than two parties. They extol the virtue of voting for a candidate that will be lucky to get half of one percent of the vote.

Now, I agree that we need more options.  I agree that we need more ideas on the table.  We should have more than two viable parties.  My problem is that elections don’t only get held every 4 years.  Elections get held every single year.  You have all levels of government be it federal, state or local.  I vote every year and yet when I vote on odd number years, I never see any third party candidates running for school board, city council, sheriff, constable, comptroller etc.

If you want to build successful third parties, you need to start on a grassroots level.  These are the elections that are winnable and can form a foundation.  You could get a libertarian as the town constable or get a Green party candidate on the city council.  You could get an independent candidate on the school board.  These are small elections with a small base of voters.  It would be easy to capture the imagination of enough voters to win some of these elections.  That would make it easier to start getting into state senates and houses or even the federal House of Representatives.

This is where it’s time to call out bullshit.  School boards and city councils aren’t really sexy.  Who cares about the comptroller?  Or the constable?  The presidential election is nationwide and it gets a lot of election.  For a lot of people, it’s really more about wanting to complain or wanting to be contrarian.  I don’t even see many people propping up third party candidates for congress or the Senate during the Presidential election year. 

Now if you actually are out there trying to get independent and third party candidates elected to school boards and city councils, this diatribe is not directed at you.  I respect what you are trying to do and support that cause.  This is directed at the people that only turn out every 4 years with their holier than thou self righteousness.

Now I’m not going to tell anyone how to vote.  People should vote for whomever they feel is the best candidate.  I also won’t tell you that you are wasting your vote if you want to vote for a third party or independent candidate.  Since only one candidate wins, you could argue that 54.1% of the people wasted their vote in 2016.  Vote however you please.  I won’t tell you that you’re wasting your vote.  I am asking you to stop wasting my time.


Train stations provide the cliché observation of people running to and fro trying to catch that train.  It’s a microcosm for our crazy society. 

I’ll be meekly showing the Amtrak cop my train ticket lest I be banished from the station.  Good that I have a train ticket and also purchased a burrito at the food court.  Wouldn’t want a homeless person crashing out on the floor, now would we?

Think of the children:  we can’t allow them to be scarred and marred by the sight and scent of these trod upon bums.  Let’s just sweep the problem under the rug and pretend that it doesn’t exist.  It’s the Reagan deal all over again.  We’ll push it out of sight and out of mind.  If we pretend hard enough, it might just go away. 

But for the moment I am safe from being jettisoned from the station since I am a paying customer.  Lah Dee Dah, aren’t I something special?

I sit there chomping away on my burrito. I see self-important people with their cellphones.  They make unimportant phone calls to unimportant people.  Their smugness reeks worse than any of the homeless.  I’m not too impressed by any of it.

Now I’ve heard on numerous occasions that Penn Station is a microcosm for America and that scares me—especially when I am threatened with arrest for buying food for a starving person while so-called good Christians, many of whom laud Mother Teresa, look on approvingly at the cop’s efforts.

So this is America in a nutshell and it ain’t a very pretty sight anymore.  It sure as Hell isn’t even what those dead white guys envisioned a couple centuries ago.

Someone fucked it up and this is what is left:  a rebuilt train station populated by heartless, soulless people who bought a latté which will donate an entire nickel to charity.  They can walk about holding their noses high and marvel at their good deed.

And it really sucks regardless upon whom we finally decide to pin the blame.  Guys that couldn’t make the grade at the Academy are all self-important in their little station.  I’m just left feeling a bit nauseous and I no longer have an appetite to finish my food.  Maybe I will just give the rest of my burrito to a homeless woman who needs it more than me.

I just watch the people scurrying for trains.  I’ve much been an admirer of rats—and less so the human kind.  I’ll be delighted when it’s my turn to leave.



There are still times that I get carded in bars or venues.  It’s usually an indication that the establishment sits in an uptight municipality or they recently got tagged for selling booze to (too) young’uns.  I won’t give them too much trouble since they’re really just doing their jobs.  And also, a lot of venues have guys at the door with necks thicker than a redwood tree.  I just show them the card and move on with my life.  People say that I should take it as a compliment.  Hardly, they aren’t looking at me and thinking that I might be under 21.  They’re doing it because some asshole council member wants to make a statement.  It would be great if it was a compliment but I’m not that naïve.  I’m not standing there thinking “Gee that new moisturizing cream is really reaping dividends.”  I’m usually just anxious to get in the door and get settled. 

Largely not nessa

a delay in the next beer

thirst waits to be quenched


I’m listening to my friend talk about the vandalism of fucking squirrels.  His words begin to fade into blah, blah, blah and I take a hike into the kitchen.  I’m looking out the kitchen window and I see two squirrels fucking in my backyard.  Now the words “fucking squirrels” begins forming in my mind as I watch the spectacle.

A part of me thinks about rattling the screen door or going outside and scaring them off.  I ain’t getting any so why should they?  I could be a real dick and fuck up their fun.  But in the end, I really don’t have the heart to do such a thing.

I just start hear the phrase “fucking squirrels” echoing in my brain.  My friend chanting “fucking squirrels” resounds like a mantra.  I just close the blinds leaving the squirrels to their own device.  I’ll head back out to the other room with a bag of Doritos and wonder if a grown man is still ranting and raving ab out furry tailed rodents.  He is still going on about it and I’m not really sure what to make of any of this shit.