Category Archives: Poetry & Misc Writings

Of Muscovies & Musicians

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I like the birds for many reasons. First, they don’t have petty egos. Individual members are never placed above the good of the species. There are clearly defined rules of engagement & cooperation with birds. The pecking order is always respected, and if a member gets out-of-line, they get clipped by an alpha. And when the fight is over, everything is back to normal, with no grudges. Muscovies, mallards, mockingbirds, cardinals, and even a red-headed woodpecker peacefully share this feeding area I’ve established. That’s what can be learned from this photo above.

But this poster (above) bothers me, and I’ll explain, since it’s complicated. I’m not the biggest Drivin N’ Cryin fan, but I’d like to see them, because I like a few of their songs & respect them. They fit in with the BoDeans, Connells, Soundgarden, etc, back in the day of “120 Minutes” on MTV, when “Honeysuckle Blue” broke them into college rock.

Drivin N’ Cryin played in Sanford, at West End Trading Co about 3 years ago. I saw the flier the night of the show, it was $18. I had at least a twenty, but decided against it, because I was tired and it was already late as the opening band was still onstage. As I said, I’m not a HUGE fan, but I also knew I missed an opportunity to see a name band and judge for myself.

So now they’re coming around again, so I gotta go, right? This venue is about a mile from where I live, so I’ll walk downtown, as usual. This is to be an outdoor show on Sunday at 1:00 PM, and the weather forecast is 80 degrees & sunny. Here’s the thing, the venue is trying to sell tickets for the event! In this era of coronavirus, where smart people want to be socially distanced, these owners think they can get people to pay $7-20 to pack-in close to the outdoor stage. I promise you that Drivin N’ Cryin will have stack amps & a monster PA system that will be heard distinctly for hundreds of yards in all directions. These are the kind of promoters who wanted to charge patrons for Woodstock.

And finally there’s the Saturday line-up. A veritable who’s who of Orlando-area musical gatekeepers, gathering & reforming old projects to make themselves look new again. It’s a tired act, I must say. I may stop by to see a few familiar faces, who like to pretend they never worked on Electrified!, and refuse to respect the album. To me, these are overinflated musical egos mixing with rotten politics. I don’t kiss that ass because I’m WAY too good for that, and besides, it’s toxic. It’s up to them to come around, and show some respect for a change, otherwise I mostly ignore them.

It’s not like the good old days when you could call up some friends and say, “Hey let’s go see a cool band!” There are no cool bands anymore. Corporate has killed the growth of new ones, while commodifying all the old ones by the mid-2000’s. Who are the great rock bands of the 21st century? Coldplay? Wilco? Please.

It takes will & perseverance, along with talent, to keep a good band together– and a little luck doesn’t hurt either. Every member has to be committed to the cause, whatever it is, whether it’s to be artistic or commercial, or some kind of hybrid.

It’s hard to write original music that grabs the kids, and hold everything together under the pressure of making money, when the only way a band/artist is allowed to perform is by being corporate. This means blandish, non-inflammatory originals, with traditional covers for all the genres. That’s the way it is everywhere.

Things have gotten far too complicated with rock music. Too much of it doesn’t really rock. Too many old folks unwilling to give it up, are sucking-up all the money, media & venues for themselves & their cronies. This is a venue system which encourages mediocrity, and seeks to exclude anything exceptional, which will reveal them as phonies. When people wonder why rock ain’t what it used be, THIS is why?

I’m beyond heckling (which I’m aces at) for all these Saturday acts. As soon as you see me yawning, it’s getting time for me to go. I can’t stay awake for weak stuff anymore. All this is taken by them as a great affront, when they are the ones boring everybody to tears. Like I said, it’s not easy going to these local shows anymore. They aren’t fun.  Everything lacks originality and/or energy.

As long as artists such as myself are blacklisted, this musical suckitude will continue. This is by design, with bitter politics keeping fans away from artists with revolutionary meaning & youthful energy.

Monday Morning Coming Down:  April 19, 2021 11:30 AM EDT

Drivin ‘N’ Cryin is an underrated band– strong songs, lots of energy & tight. But my favorite moment at their Sanford show yesterday, was beforehand. The guitar & bass players were both standing off-stage to the left where I was watching, about 15 feet away.

Some 40-ish floozy had been strutting around the crowd all afternoon. When Kevin Kinney finally came out of his van and started making his way to the stage, she runs up to him and screams with open arms “Kevin!” After a few minutes of strange exchange she walks back towards the crowd.

I turn my eyes onto her as she passes, then say out loud to the guitarist & bassist, “Those groupie reunions are always awkward moments.” Then I say in my best girlie voice, “Remember me, we slept together 20 years ago!” I laughed so loud at them, that they both ducked behind the stage to talk it over with Kevin. Rock & roll, baby

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I’m not looking for that

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I’m from Wisconsin and went to college at Marquette, so I’ve been to a lot of parties & bars. As a musician you spend time at bars. Before the coronavirus pandemic struck, I had just invented a great two-person drinking game. The problem was I never found the right partner to play it with. Since who knows when all this is going to be over, I’m publishing my newly-invented drinking game, with all the rules. Here’s the official song.

      1. You-Drinkin-a-Beer-1.mp3

 

You do this with someone you really like on sight. Go up to her and be nice, offer to buy her a drink, etc, and if you can get her semi-alone, then start this game. “Would you like to play a personal drinking game I just made up?” The yes/no reply is the first test. If she’s not game, then she probably lacks courage & imagination. That’s what I say, and it makes the rejection easier. This game will weed-out the wrong ones, one way or another.

Okay she’s beautiful, and says yes. Now you’re cookin’. Tell her, “The name of the game is ‘I’m not looking for that,’ and I’ll start to demonstrate.” Gaze around the bar/party, and start surveying people individually. Begin with something like, “You see that 200-pound girl over there, showing us WAY too much gut? I’m not looking for that.”

Rule: If the listener laughs, or is amused, then they take a drink. Now it’s her turn to tell you what she’s not looking for…

I’ll list a few rounds to illustrate a typical society-party situation for me.

ROUND 2: “Do you see that guy who’s been looking at me since I walked in here? I’m not looking for that.”

ROUND 3: “Do you see that 55-year old lady who’s pretending she’s 28? I’m not looking for that.”

ROUND 4: “Do you see that pretty thing who has destroyed herself with drugs & alcohol? I’m not looking for that.”

ROUND 5: “Do you hear that girl who has no sense-of-humor at all? I’m not looking for that.”

Once you’ve taken-out all the easy targets, it’s time to deliver a few sobering thoughts. If she’s hanging in there, and making YOU drink, it means she’s a good woman. Now is the time to get specific on lying & other big turn-offs.

ROUND 6: “You know those people who think lying, to the one you love, is okay? I’m not looking for that.”

ROUND 7: “You know those women who are just in it for themselves? I’m not looking for that.”

These are the brutal advanced rounds, where you need to keep your head, while inebriated with alcohol & enchanted by beauty. This is graduate-level drinking & partying. If you earn a PhD here, you’ll probably find your life partner, because everyone is looking for this. To those who can’t handle this, I’m not looking for that.

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Trump catches Kung Flu

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United States President Donald Trump was airlifted to Walter Reed Medical Center Friday evening after testing positive for Kung Flu. According to the extremely limited information released by the White House, he was treated with a cocktail of experimental drugs during the day but had a persistent low-grade fever.

I posted a poll question on my Fakebook page, but at this point I don’t think anyone sees me anymore due to Democratic party (Zuckerberg-CIA) censorship, so here’s the question.

Donald Trump has come down with Kung Flu. Do you hope that: A) he recovers well; or B) he suffers & dies?  Vote here.

You can be sure Donald & Melania Trump won’t have bleach or Lysol injected into their veins and/or lungs. That’s not the way professionals treat Kung Flu. The dedicated staff at Walter Reed will provide the best doctors & nurses, drug therapies, and PPE in Trump’s medical suite. This is to help Donald Trump in recovering from Kung Flu.

Trump is a fattie, so he needs this help– for sure. Without it, he would be at the mercy of Kung Flu, which is merciless. For those not privileged, this pandemic has been a nightmare. In just over six months, over 210,00 dead in the US, and over one million globally as of this publication. That’s probably an undercount. Economies wrecked, jobs lost by the tens of millions, and tens of thousands of small businesses going bankrupt– never to return under capitalism.

Question: Is this Kung Flu an attack on the US Presidency, by China? Has Kung Flu put our “national security” at risk? How should the US strike back at China for their Kung Flu aggression? I know this looks like three questions, but it’s really just many variations of the same fake question: how does the ruling elite blame China? Or Russia?

When the seriousness of something such as an outbreak of Kung Flu is ignored, and turned into a sick joke, there will come a time for the masses to stop laughing & start thinking seriously. How is humanity going to defeat Kung Flu, a deadly & contagious virus? Professionally speaking: COVID-19 attacks the body, while Kung Flu afflicts the mind.

Coronavirus positive Donald Trump is the leading global super-spreader of Kung Flu. His ‘herd immunity’ policy is malign neglect, an impeachable & criminal offense against the American people, yet the Democrats refuse to attack Trump from the left, which proves their bankruptcy. We now have medical proof of Trump’s sickness with his hospitalization. Trump is positive, it’s Kung Flu.

The führer and his trophy wife were supposed to fly into Sanford International Airport last night for a campaign event, but this much ado was cancelled, due to Trump being positive with Kung Flu. Biden-Harris spread Kung Flu too. Who knew about Kung Flu, and what did they do? I ask you.

Nancy Pelosi knew about Kung Flu back in January, but what did she do? It’s a false choice between red or blue. We aren’t animals in a zoo. Herd immunity is malign neglect, it’s true. It only spreads this bad ju-ju, known as Kung Flu.

Let me ask you, “Who flipped Kung Flu?”

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Brass in Pocket

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I will finally fully reveal myself as the hidden prankster at Marquette’s School of Dentistry, from 1990-94. I always had to be careful, because the deans & faculty who ran the school were largely out to get me. But they didn’t catch me. If you know GnR, you know the rest…

I was living with Matt, my 3-year roomie, in a 2nd floor, two bedroom, shared bathroom apartment on the corner of 20th & Wells. Tough neighborhood, and a long cold walk in the winter. It was still early fall when Matt was telling me about his day around the engineering building, and so forth. He had obtained a roll of orange special stickers, and was tagging the campus with them.

We’re both having a beer, and a few laughs, so I asked for a few and he tore off a nice roll for me. As a first-year dental student (D1), you quickly learn that the dental school is your new ‘home way from home.’ We’re always there, Mon-Fri from 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM, and then often after– for lab work or whatever. It’s all serious from the start when they tell you, “Look to the person on your left, and then the right. One of you won’t graduate in 4 years.”

That makes it cut-throat among the students, especially those who want coveted residencies such as oral surgery or orthodontics. Student loans only add to the pressure. I quickly discovered that I wasn’t going to be a top-GPA dental student. I just wanted to keep the academic scholarship I had earned, and get through.

There is a lot of favoritism in dental school, and it sorts itself out early. For instance, we had a dental prodigy who could wax-up a tooth so beautifully that he was offered the Marquette prosthodontics residency (highly coveted) within a month. He accepted, and sailed through dental school. Now, he’s a world class prosthodontist in Miami.

We had a talented class, for sure. I don’t even have to include myself for that to be true. Talent reveals itself early, and after a few weeks everyone pretty much knew where they fit in with this hierarchy. I had a lot of support from classmates, and we were a generally supportive group, but there are always rats, snitches & gunners in professional school.

I was living on the edge, as the ruling faculty didn’t like me, and there were plenty of rats willing to endear themselves to power by snitching on me. Student government is where these types tend to exist, as it gives them liaison power with faculty, and hides their mediocrity. I was always the biggest enemy of mediocrity, and was made a target because I refused to conform.

Professional schools try to break you. If you don’t obey, they punish you– one way or another. That pressure can be enough to prevent a student from getting their diploma. It’s easier to conform. It gets you through, but the long-term costs are significant. It’s a character thing in my mind.

All this & more, is why I was really excited to start plastering Marquette’s dental school with orange special stickers. I was going to kick ass, have some laughs, and get away with it. A dental school is a busy building with around 350 students, plus faculty, administrative personnel, and so forth. No witnesses is rule number one in tagging. Since it’s so busy, I determine that it’s best to place a limited number of strategically placed stickers, versus carpet bombing. In the evening it’s quieter, and that’s mostly when to strike.

The lecture room we sit in, hours on end all week, gets a sticker on the face of the lecture rostrum. So as Dr. Austin goes on & on about cranial nerves & other gross anatomy, everyone sees that bright orange sticker. I think that’s hilarious. To our left, up on the wall, is the clock that shows the time– and to the left of that is an orange special sticker. People get bored, look at the clock, and are thinking to themselves, “Wow, that must be a tall person placing those stickers. I’ve been seeing quite a few of them…”

We had several vending machines in the student lounge, located in the basement bowels of the dental school. I’m referencing the old Marquette dental school on 16th, off Wisconsin. I made sure the milk machine always had a special. Also the snacks machine, which featured such salty delights as cheddar cheese Combos & Gardetto’s pretzel mixes were constantly on special.

Soon, I noticed the stickers started disappearing almost as fast as I could put them up. Someone who is serious and has power doesn’t like this. “Be careful,” I kept saying to myself. This could get me kicked out. One of my favorite gags was the ‘Special Patients’ clinic sign in the basement. I got that one– twice. The second time, I went back a few minutes later, and the sticker was already gone. BE CAREFUL– LOL!!!

I’d look forward to getting back to my crappy apartment in the evening, and telling Matt what was going on. He’d be cracking up, and then say, “I’m getting another beer, you want one…?” Yeah, sure….

This went on for a few weeks. Another classic gag I came up with was tagging the inside elevator door. I’m inside alone, anytime. When the door opens the sticker disappears. As people go in, I get out, and when the door closes everyone inside sees how special they are. Matt LOVED that one, and adopted it in the engineering building.

One day we’re in lecture, and the blackboard the doctor wants to write on is covered up by the projector screen. He pulls up the screen, and BANG, there’s an orange special sticker on the blackboard! He picks up the chalk to write and there it is. He kinda glances sideways at it, and then moves over to his right to start there instead. I’m sitting next to a very pretty girl named Stephanie, who was really cool and I was sweet on. She sees this and half-whispers, “What is up with those stickers? I’m seeing them EVERYWHERE!” I’m trying to control my internal laughter, while looking at her & wanting to ravish her.

At this point, it had become a student-liaison/faculty issue. The uptight nerds were getting very restless, and the faculty wanted this stopped immediately. It’s Friday at lunch, and we’re all in the lounge. I’ve decided to give myself up, but only to a good woman. Stephanie is to my left, talking whatever with her friends, so I interrupt to ask to see he notes for reference. As I said, she’s cool, so she passes her binder over, and doesn’t look back at me. I pretend to be poring over them, and make sure no one else is looking, while I place an orange special sticker in a blank space by her notes a few pages earlier. Then I fold everything up, and give it back to her. I knew Stephanie always reviewed her notes before going out to meet us on Fridays.

Around 6:00 PM, I walk into the Ardmore bar, and Stephanie is arguing loudly with two of our buddies– Vijay & Tim. One of the tallest dental students is our class president, Randy. Randy was a muscle-bound dork who thought he was funny, and was always trying to goof in front of the class. His act wore thin, and by this time he was sitting with the geeks up front. Many of these folks were openly accusing Randy of being the prankster. Vijay & Tim were convinced it’s Randy too. Stephanie is standing there– 100% sure it is not. “How do you know?!” Tim & Vijay are exclaiming as I approach.  I play it straight and ask, “What are you talking about?”

Vijay & Tim face me, and blurt out what Stephanie has told them, and say, “It’s Randy, right?” I’m just looking at Stephanie, who isn’t in love with me (I now know), who is ready to explode with laughter. She points straight at me. and exclaims, “It’s Ric!” Vijay & Tim look puzzled, as their jaws hit the floor. I smile to all three of them, then shrug my shoulders and say, “Surprise.”

Lots of laughter after that… Vijay is Indian-Canadian, and my best friend in dental school. He keeps feeding me beers to get the full story, and is just shaking his head. Then Cele comes in, and wants to know what’s up… Cele is Philippine-American, and went to Madison for his undergraduate. He’s cool, and is one of us. Cele loves gossip, and now he knows. I had to make sure he didn’t pass it on too freely, otherwise I’m caught in the danger zone. He didn’t, to his credit.

By next Monday morning, most of our group knew, but no one else. The heat was boiling over by that point. Randy was beside himself, hands in the air, insisting he didn’t do it before the first lecture. There were more than a few nags who were reading him the riot act, when in exasperation, Randy looked towards us for help. and he called out, “Come on, will someone say I didn’t do this? Everyone is accusing me here…”

I’m seated on the opposite side of the room, with Stephanie to my right. I look dead into his eyes, and firmly say, “Well I guess this is what you get for being the class clown?” Randy looks back for a second, and then collapses in defeat. Stephanie is head down, hiding behind her gorgeous hair, quivering in laughter. She whispers softly to me, “You… are … so… bad.”

And that’s it. The last time I visited that building was in 2002, and in the back stairwell on an ‘Exit’ sign remained an orange special sticker. I had to jump down the stairs to tag that one. You can’t reach it with a ladder, because the stairs are directly below it. A janitor tried to get it, but only ripped it down the middle. Someone up high, badly wanted it gone. All I can say is that if the sign is still there, then the sticker is too.

The one that got away (and there’s always one, right?), was when the grades for the semester were being posted. On the first floor there’s a glass cabinet, where the top-5 GPA’s in each class (D1-D4) were listed each semester. It was a great honor to be on that list, and I was never close to it– until the day I was walking by it from the Science Library. I saw it wide open, with the keys still in it. The grades were posted, but the janitor had presumably left to run an errand….

I’ve got my right hand in pocket, peeling the orange special sticker off inside. I’m going to place it next to our class, and when it’s locked under glass, everyone will see & know just how special the Class of 1994 is. Just as I’m about to pull it out, a secretary comes down the stairs and up the hall. I stroll by and duck into the student lounge for a minute, then go back up, but the case was locked up by then. I still wonder sometimes, if it was the one that got away, or it was the one that would have given me away?

Campus Phone gag: There was a time in Marquette dental school (D2, D3) when we had to be in the Science Library a lot. I’m a stairs person, but on this day I took the elevator from the first floor of the dental school to the 4th floor, which spills into the Science Library. The Science Library elevator had an emergency phone with no listed number. As I’m going up, it rings, so I opened the box and pick it up. It’s some girl on campus trying to reach her friend. I tell her it’s the wrong number, and then ask for the number she dialed. She tells me, and I jot it down.

The elevator opens, I see my friends sitting at a table together and go over to join them. I do whatever I have to do, and then I’m waiting. It’s Vijay, Stephanie, Cele, and maybe a few others. Cele was usually the first to end his studies, and go do something else, and that’s what happened. Cele packed up his stuff, and said goodbye. He’s heading towards the elevator, when I say to the rest, “I’m gonna get Cele back here right away,” and get up to use the campus phone behind me. Someone says, “Cele just left, you can catch him if you hurry.” I reply, “No, I”m going to call him.”

This was around 1992, before cell phones truly existed. I dial up the number, and my buddies are ignoring me like I’m nuts. It rings once and Cele answers, “Hello?” Without missing a beat I say, “Hey Cele, it’s Ric. I just wanted to tell you what a great guy you are, and how I appreciate our friendship, it means a lot to me.” Then I hang up.

Thirty seconds later, Cele comes busting out of the Science Library elevator. “How did you get that number?!” Everyone else is wondering what’s going on, and I can’t stop laughing. But when I do, I explain the situation to everyone, and give Cele the number. He’s now excited to prank someone, but I explain it has to be the right person. Some people won’t pick up the phone.

Soon enough Stacey, a semi-friendly, brown-nose type moves towards the elevator, and I alert Cele. As the doors close, Cele dials the number, and Stacey picks it up. It went something like this. Stacey: “Hello.” Cele replies: “Hey Stacey, it’s Cele. How are you doing?” Stacey: “I’m fine. Why are you calling me here?!” Lots more laughter after that, until it’s time for me to go. I then tell Cele I’m taking the stairs, so don’t even think about calling me in the elevator.

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“The Road Rage Song”

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Explicit sounds recorded on August 23, 2019, and produced by Tom Pearce. Cover photo & design also by Tom Pearce.

      1. The Road Rage Song - Ric Size

 

Guitar & vocal by Ric Size–  PLAY LOUD!!

This ‘B-side’ is dedicated to all the real drivers, and is part of Extended Play 2019-20, which has been re-titled, and may need to be re-titled again. This is because its release has been long-delayed, mostly due to effects of the coronavirus pandemic.

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Fractured Fairy Tales: The Princess who wanted to be President

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Once upon a time there was an ugly princess who wanted to be President. Even as a little girl, she told everyone, “I don’t want to be in the kitchen baking cookies, I want to be President!” Everyone laughed & laughed, which only re-doubled her resolve.

This ugly princess came from a wealthy family, and married to achieve her dream. One day when she was walking alone in a dark forest, an ogre approached her with a deal. He proposed, “I have the chops & political connections to be President. You have the money & family name. Let’s get married, so I can be President, then I’ll make you President.”

The ugly princess was delighted to be made such an offer she couldn’t refuse. This was a kingdom where anyone could be elected President, and her husband served two terms in that capacity, making himself the most powerful member of his political party.

But things never quite worked out for the ugly princess. It was as if the deal she made with the ogre was cursed. For instance, as First lady, she was publicly cuckolded, as her husband was impeached by the House of Representatives for lying about getting blown by an intern. But what could she do? She wanted to be President, so she stood by her man. It was the only way.

As a member of the imperial Senate, the ugly princess was viewed as a thoroughly establishment figurine, instead of the rising Presidential hopeful she desired to be. It was a dark star that rose in her place, and cruelly snatched the party nomination away from her. The ugly princess howled & screamed during the process, but eventually was made to understand the realpolitik, and became Secretary of State.

At the same time this was going on, there was a handsome, wise & courageous prince who was forced to live as a pauper. His unfortunate situation came about very early in life, when he was walking alone through a dark forest, and a wicked witch bumped into him & took offense. The wicked witch hated beauty, so she said to the handsome boy prince, “I’m going to cast a spell on you, so no matter how smart you are, no one will believe you, until you are kissed by a beautiful princess.”

Then she waved her hands & cackled, “Fee-fi-fo-fum; this man shall be wise, but people with think he’s dumb,” and with that, and a ‘poof’ she was gone. The boy studied hard, took all the toughest classes, and never let the establishment crack him. But the wicked witch’s spell took hold, as every time success seemed within his grasp, it would evaporate. The goalposts were forever moved back & narrowed, to the point where it was futility to attempt financial success.

The handsome, yet poor, prince told everyone of these truths, but few, if any listened. They ignored, blocked & de-friended him for telling the facts. This was indeed a nasty spell, cast by an evil sorceress. There were deep state campaigns, in which the ugly princess attacked the handsome prince on every front, political, economic & personal, with dirty tricks campaigns, spying & blacklisting.

When it was finally the ugly princess’ time to run for President again, the field was presumably cleared for her, by her powerful husband. But an old windbag making leftists sounds took the lead, and the ugly princess was again drowning. So the Black Hand again intervened, with a nefarious squeeze play, to get the old windbag to sabotage & abandon his campaign– in a bow of respect to the ugly princess & her ogre husband. This was revealed by WikiLeaks, as DNC staffers leaked damaging emails & speeches to Goldman Sachs by the ugly princess, implicating them in rigging the 2016 primary.

This culminated in the ugly princess losing to a Nazi, to the shock of a nation. In the early hours of November 9, 2016, while much of the nation was stunned & speechless, the wise prince published “Fascism Wins Election 2016,” then on November 12, “The Swift & Sudden Death of U.S. Liberalism,” and on November 13, “Hillary Clinton: A Political Obituary.”

Nazis had indeed taken over the White House, and over the next three years, chaos & hatred was broadcast everywhere. The ugly princess did everything she could to shift the blame for this catastrophe onto anyone but herself. It was mostly the “Russians” and “internet trolls” that were blamed, as “fake news” came into our lexicon. The handsome & wise prince suffered more than ever. The problem for the ugly princess was that no one believed her lies, despite her monopoly grip on the media narrative.

So the courageous prince never stopped broadcasting the truth, and eventually more & more people started paying attention, as censorship can’t hold forever. The resourceful prince took up the guitar, and became the Pied Piper, but that’s another fairy tale. Anyways, the wicked witch’s spell had finally been broken, so when it came time for another Presidential carnival campaign, the ugly princess was left out of the primary.

But the ugly princess still had her ogre husband by the royal jewels, so she again demanded, “I want to be President.” As luck would have it, just as the political campaign season was going into full swing, a horrible & incurable black plague swept over every land. This crashed the global economy, which was already on a knife-edge– about to be swallowed up in a mountain of unpayable debt. This crisis ruined any re-election hopes for the Nazi incumbent.

As far as the party primary went, again the old windbag ranted about inequality & unfairness, while offering nothing of substance, before ceding to leadership and betraying his followers. A zombie placeholder was made the presumptive party nominee for President. The zombie was made to declare that his running mate for Vice-President will be a women.

This creates a situation where the ugly princess can still become President, by removing the semi-senile imbecile after the election victory, through dirty tricks party maneuvering, and a media attack led by the #MeToo campaign. The most useful tools for the ugly princess are: #MeToo & Black Lives Matter. The LGBT liberals have no power, because conservative don’t care about fags, so they have to support the “liberals.”

The problem for the ugly princess is that she, and her favorite tools, are considered toxic by party leaders outside the palace, as well as all the voters. This puts their Presidential campaign back into the margin-of-error, which is alarming. Any time an election falls within the margin-of-error anymore, the right-wing party wins, because it’s about dirty tricks and they are more adept at that game. The last time a left-wing party won the Presidency within the margin-of-error was Camelot, and that’s another fairy tale too.

The announcement of the ugly princess for VP will be unacceptable to the masses. It will ultimately lead to a revolution, where all the evil & ugly people are exposed, prosecuted & then thrown into a dungeon for the rest of their days. The working people will be the leaders in gathering together & socializing without the distinction of classes, to create a better society where everyone lives happily ever after.

THE END

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Letter of Apology

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I’ve made a lot of enemies on this site. What I sing, write, and film isn’t popular with the people who run the world. They make sure I suffer for it.

It’s to them I owe this to. They blacklist, censor, and lie about me. This sends a message to all their Republican/Democrat minions to hate on me, and I feel it in real life & online– everyday.

You see I brought this on myself, and therefore deserve to be censored, spied upon, and targeted as an “enemy of the state,” or any other vague & unconstitutional (illegal) term that’s used.

I am a Marxist, a revolutionary socialist. But those terms aren’t allowed to be used in the media, so I’m instead referred to (in fake news terminology) as a “Russian troll bot,” or whatever…

You see, I never learned that you can go “too far” with the truth. Most people like the truth, but aren’t in love with it– if you get my meaning. They want the truth, so long as it’s convenient, and fits their agenda & bias. But when it blows that, the truth becomes a liability. This is why things are so fucked-up.

So this letter is for all the former friends, colleagues & acquaintances that I’ve offended. It’s hard to put into words how I truly feel, as it’s a combination of disgust & disappointment, tempered with creative optimism that adheres to a dialectical Marxist method.

What this means is real life, is that I’m going nowhere financially, and therefore will not be able to afford a beautiful woman, raise a family, and find happiness. No worries, I simply carry on with my work (in every field), without adulation or even recognition. This makes me like 80-90% of the world’s population, who mostly keep their mouths shut, which is why they are starving or in the neighborhood. For all this, I’m made to feel compelled to apologize to the paymasters.

There are many in power who recognize Ric Size, but my name (in any version) is not to be mentioned publicly–EVER! Ric Size is the great unmentionable artist & political leader of today, as he represents Trotskyism & total creative freedom. No other artist in music, film, painting, literature (or anything else!), dares to stand with Ric Size on principle, proving them all phonies– at least to that extent. For this I must apologize, as many sensibilities will be bruised over this.

Of course, it’s too late for apologies, as I can never be forgiven by the deep state ruling apparatus. I let the proverbial genie out of the bottle too many times already for forgiveness. I’ve also called-out too many celebrity athletes & entertainers for their hypocrisy, to which they have no reply– except censorship.

My comments & criticisms have made some of them “uncomfortable,” devalued the brands & companies of others, and have basically made them look bad. This rabble-rousing commentary is considered counter-productive to capitalist market efficiency. What do you think Warren Buffet or Mark Zuckerberg would pay to make all Ric Size content disappear?

Nobody does what I’ve done, and gets away with it. So therefore, I owe an apology. Here it is.

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My Musical Muse

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I read this interview with Thurston Moore recently on songwriting. If I had to list the ‘best’ rock-era songwriters, Moore would certainly be near the top. It’s always silly to compare when it comes to art, but it is also helpful to know who the best are. Those are the ones you learn from & imitate.

The best songwriters sing their songs and also play an instrument, and usually lead a band or at least a stable core group of musicians. They will find the perfect working partners in musical colleagues & in the production sphere. This requires being able to interact with others and control egos, including your own. That is difficult in an age when anyone with a hit, instantly gets blown up into a superstar by the industry/media hype machine.

For me, having a song title and finding a melody hook are my starting points. The title acts as a reminder of what you are writing about, so your verses can feed seamlessly into the chorus. The melody hook from both the verse & chorus generates a rhythm, from which lyrics flow. I write all my songs on paper, usually on the back of an envelope with a pen. My guitar is out, and used to re-implant the melody as needed. Try to get the lyrics roughed out as quickly as possible. When being creative, keep the ideas fresh & fast– don’t get bogged down in details. Polish those out later.

Experimenting with song structure is a great idea for expanding your repertoire. Many novice songwriters fall into the trap of making every song the same, as far as verse-chorus-(2x)-solo-verse-chorus framework. Try writing songs without choruses. Vary the length of your compositions to break free of boxy concepts. All guitar players & songwriters should (at least) experiment on bass.

The most radical (recent) departure from conventionality for me has been the use of a slide. As a groove player, I noticed my pinky was often doing nothing, so I decided to put it to use. This adds an element of attack that few other singer-songwriters have. My solo performance can swing & rip better than many full bands due to this innovation. This scares most colleagues, along with all club owners & industry types– so I’m blacklisted.

This leads to the point of paying the price to be who you are. Understand what it is, and deal with it. Don’t change who you are, to become ‘successful.’ That’s when you start sucking. This requires patience & endurance. If you are any good, people will start to recognize your talent, as long as you put in the work.

What is the work? It’s reading EVERYTHING and learning as much as you can. The more you know and the more worldly conscious you are, the better your songs will be. You need to get out into the real world, and experience it with real people, in real relationships. This allows you to absorb all perspectives, and please note this includes nature itself. Someone needs to speak for all the animals being devastated, etc…

The more you immerse yourself in reality, the more relatable your songs become. Music fans want to hear music that speaks to them. If all you can write/sing about are your tormented love affairs & sexual conquests, then most of us aren’t going to be interested. It’s selfish and we’ve heard it over & over, endlessly already.

Find some other aspects of your life that listeners can also connect with, and go with it the next time your creative urge strikes. Once again, you need this for versatility, otherwise you’re a one-trick pony. We already have too many of those hacks hosting open mic nights with their tip jars empty. Every one of their ‘originals’ sounds the same, and their performances only generate pity applause. It’s sad & painful to experience. Don’t be like that.

Another creative area is covers. When performing songs from other artists, pick those you are most-influenced by, and learn (what you consider to be) their best songs. Too many avoid the best, because their songs are too difficult to perform well. Yeah– that’s the point in separating the talent from the wannabe’s!

I believe in many ways this is how you discover your songwriting muse. Apply this attitude to covers, and what you’ll notice is that each artist has a distinct style of composition & delivery. Some of your favorites will be naturally easier to play than others, and this becomes a key discovery. It tells you who your deepest influences will be, as you discover yourself in musicianship. For me it became Graham Parker in songwriting & vocal delivery, and Kurt Cobain in guitar style. My friend and working partner TomP, definitively convinced me that my preferred production style is Sonic Youth.

You only learn this through focus & dedication. I do believe there is an element of prodigy too, but with that said this ability is inside all of us. Music is primal. Music is much more basic & essential than film or any other art form. The heartbeat is our most basic rhythm, and it has been mimicked in music since man’s earliest existence. Finding your music muse is the natural expression of our humanity’s desire to creatively express itself.  Find it and set it free.

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Dialectical Processes

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A website is always evolving– an indisputable fact of the Internet. Even if a site immediately goes stale, forgotten by its creator (like most), it’s even decaying beyond that– at a rate the Internet is advancing. Therefore, any website is either evolving or devolving.

When I began this site (with all technical assistance from friend/webmaster TomP), I had no idea what I was doing or where it was going? What this site has become is a guide-to-better-living, with much of what-you-need-to-know for understanding this crazy world we all inhabit, contained and/or linked here. This site is about taking care of yourself, while always thinking of others. That means a global scope, with respect for everything in it & beyond.

This site is dialectically materialist in philosophy, rejecting any notion of god as a universal creator (as a failed hypothesis), relying instead on actual data & rational science. This has allowed a transformative creativity in some particularly reactionary fields of modern journalism, the best example here being the sports writings. Starting from a sound political & philosophical foundation makes this possible, and it’s the only way to remove the emotional element from sportswriting, which is a major issue, even (especially) in the professional ranks.

Sports bring out the passion (good & bad) in people, which makes them a volatile subject. Most writers can’t separate their fanhood from their responsibility as journalists. These schleps love sports so much, they will say & do anything to maintain their precious access to their heroes. This is the condition of the modern American sportswriter. The amount of hackwork they collectively produce in covering the NFL, NBA & MLB is staggering. What is perhaps even more astounding, is how little of it holds up over time; as it’s mostly speculation, rumor mongering, hidden agendas, etc… with very little research, much less hard analysis.

All these people do is watch sports, so how can they be so obtuse?  In the end, it’s always a matter of perspective and class forces. Whether it’s an individual team or league in trouble, notice how it’s problems are always pinned on an individual– usually the head coach or a star player. Scapegoats are useful in all fields, and the business of sports is no different. When rabid sports fans are whipped into a lather regarding a lackluster performance, a scapegoat is singled out and moved in front of the cameras to answer impossible questions for irate fans. No one ever questions the fairness or rationality of this media browbeating, it’s just how business is conducted.

For example, why don’t these writers discuss why the Orlando Magic fail year-after-year? The reason is because if they did, eventually they would come to the root of the problem, which is failed ownership & incompetent management. That makes powerful people look bad, which is not allowed under capitalism. At least not until the Internet and a Marxist (with time & love for the game), actually does the work [1]. The result becomes their franchise history, which still holds up better than anything anyone has ever written (or filmed) on the Orlando Magic, because it speaks the truth from top to bottom.

The point has been reached in these writings where less becomes more, and further commentary becomes redundant. Therefore, the stream of new content will henceforth be less frequent, and mostly confined to pressing world political events and Marxist revolutionary theory. As for the social, cultural & artistic spheres; I believe I’ve already adequately & articulately spoken on music, film, art, sports, health, beauty, fashion, and the rest. I hope these writings will inspire others to take these ideas further.

As for health, fitness & art pieces posted here in the future, it will be mostly my own going forward. At a certain juncture, these fields become more personal in their importance; as surviving and maintaining a healthy body & mind into & through adulthood are more important than becoming a celebrity or professional athlete. I’ve already spoken enough on its power to inspire, as well as the hypocrisy & corruption.

What homo sapiens must do is come together as a species and problem-solve– in the interests of everybody & everything on Earth. If you aren’t acting, thinking, and living the way I’m describing, then you need to connect with this site and re-humanize yourself. Physical & mental health are one, they can’t be separated. If you think rudely, with hostility & ignorance, then you can’t be healthy in body. At some point this bad mind, which is full of short-cuts, justifications and excuses will undermine any attempt at physical health. Whether it’s cancer, senility, arthritis, heart disease or stroke; whatever your greatest risk exposure is, it will become the crux of your undoing if you don’t live correctly with respect for others.

This site will remain online for as long as the Internet is allowed to be globally shared. Today the Internet is a battleground. This site has been jammed, and even hacked a few times over the years. I expect it to get worse, before it gets better for people like us. RS.com is an essential tool in fighting fascism. Today’s revolutionaries need to understand Trotskyist Marxism, as well as being physically healthy, in order to command. Leaders will need this mental & physical fitness, and will be asked to prove themselves in the heat-of-battle over & over, in order to win the support of the masses.

This is what actually impresses & influences people, much more than money or any other trappings of power. Why? Because it’s on an instinctive level that people are trusting. That cuts through the hype, in a way capitalism can never do, due to its worship of money at the expense of everything else. The truth is, the best leaders are not the richest individuals. The wealthiest portfolios are actually the sickest people, and therefore need to be removed from power and any other important decision-making, due to mental illness. This is only possible in a society transformed by revolutionary socialism.

Discover & use the knowledge here to better yourself, while enjoying & sharing the music!!

If I Could Be Reincarnated

As an animal:

As a plant:

As an organism:  a virus

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