Hi and welcome to the Attic, I'm Frankenberry of said Blog Title and I write of just my everyday here, sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don't like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that's just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or short story-etic or something like that. If you're joining me here I thank you, but just mind your head and feet and keep an eye out for my little Bella and Cricket The Blind as well as the memories of Raspberry (Razzy), Mimi the Quirky, of Blink The Lil' Kit, Grayson the Mighty, Shoes the Big Orange, Shana-Girl, Benny Good Man Benny Brown, Merlin & Bob. Wouldn't want you step on them or anything … 'cause then I might just have to throw you down the stairs … damned humans.
My Sis, Beck, at the end of last week was down in Wallkill, a few hours south of us here, for a couple of days and when she is gone for day or two, or possibly more, I will happily be tasked with being the caretaker (or cattaker if you will) of her three, Sephira, Arthur and Rikki (Rikki the oversized Cat Weeble who wobbles, wobbles, wobbles and wobbles with a bit of a jiggle, jiggle, jiggle wobbled in there for good measure, but doesn’t fall down …
… unless she’s tired and just plops, but that is NOT a Weeble wobbling AND falling down thing as, well, they just DON’T, as clearly evidenced above here in this piece of Weeble commercial history. No, that would be just entirely of a cat’s own free will and something cats are wont to do which Rikki will surely remind with a raspy cigarette “been hard times Man” sounding meow and a side-eyed glance if you even raise the question.
Nephew Matt can also be tasked for the assist here but he works nights and isn’t up in the mornings because of that, unlike me, so I can easily get both ends of the feeding schedule and gladly slave tirelessly over a hot cracked can of fancy feast stove and help keep them in meowing good fed health and spirits too as I will also throw some petting and conversation in the mix and, though, I am surely a poor backup for “Mom”, they muddle meow through with me anyway (the whole selfless hot can stove cracking food thing helps a great deal in this regard).
I’d like to think, though, that after 8 months or so of me being around, of me being simply an “extra guy”, a one from up the basement like some sort of troll, that maybe it is less of just a muddle, meowing around but maybe a welcome change of feeding pace and welcome extra company.
Cats do love themselves some extra company after all. “Who you? … well, got a forehead and a belly for a scratch here if you are so inclined, oh, this is a test by the way”.
Arthur is fine example as when Mom is away, and his backup human, Matt, is at work, I become the backup, backup human, and I will often find him at my feet, damning the dire world of possible trolls and possible stories of them eating cats, maybe in a Grimm Tale somewhere and, instead, find him trolling, lolling, lounging around behind me at my feet while I’m doing a bit of laundry.
I have mentioned before, in a number of posts, that I am the stereotypical pathetic single dude with a couple of cats who lives in his Mom’s basement, but the not quite stereotypical pathetic single older brother and uncle dude with a couple of cats who lives in his SISTER’S basement and that I just weather the cliche. But I got to change my short-lived roommate attempt at saving a few dollars situation from 8 months or so ago, to instead reconnect with family in an immediate daily way and my Sis and Nephew have been afforded the glorious opportunity to live with me, surely throwing parties in their heads every day at their good fortune but where I never ask of either of them their definitions of glorious or what they may find to be good fortune.
This though, really, has been a Godsend if whoever he is, is actually in the business of sending sendings. I have been able to give my Bella and my Cricket some much needed space in this troll’s new spacious basement place, away from the tiny bedroom in that aforementioned short-lived roommate dollar save attempt while giving my Sis a backup human to be able to turn to for some cat assistance and maybe some welcome long lost conversation between us at a dining room table or in the living room over some greenish, English accented reality show and also give her a few extra dollars while saving me quite a few at the same time, something that is most welcome believe me (I may love what I do to death but I ain’t flush).
I’d also like to think, just as with Beck’s cats, (it’s sill just a test but you are passing) that maybe my company is alright, I mean I am not an unlikable fella, I can be pretty entertaining, sometimes unintentionally in a slapstick or dad, dog joke kinda way, pretty entertaining even intentionally on occasion, I sometimes even say things that can be considered to be quite smart and prescient and Bella and Cricket get some extra hello’s and attention that they wouldn’t have gotten otherwise, living alone minus me during the day, without this new situation, especially Cricket.
She is blind and deaf and a bit older and where, in the past she may have meowled to the cat heavens in her heartbreaking sounding way, during the day, maybe feeling lonely and afraid she now has some backup humans if they are around to hear her pleas, to come downstairs to give her a pickup and a hug and some warm assurance.
Matt even took her out front of the house recently on his shoulder just to feel some breeze and some life.
Something I myself can do as well with her on a little back porch.
And Bella? She comes upstairs to just say what the fuck while also knowing this is Ok.
Plus, as a landlady, which Beck is when ya get to the nuts and bolts of it (hey, what of that water pressure by the way lady?! hehe) what better troll of a tenant can you ask for than one who will never be bringing any girlfriend relationship drama around and poundings on the wall or ceiling or floors (that kind of need has flown and really isn’t even understood anymore which I find quite strange and yet makes so much sense) but a tenant that wants just a cool place, with family for company, some extra cats to mind and a spot to sit in, in a comfy troll’s basement stringing together some words while also having and being some backups.
And, oh, before I forget, back to Arthur, of said post title.
He and Sephira are inside/outside cats so when the wrangling has you having Arthur being an in? The one who is usually the much harder grab?
Apologies my little Orange friend … now how about we wrangles that sister of yours and be done for the night?
Well, the weather this week has been really nice (up the Albany way in New York) and consistently so, which is even nicer, and has made the ride homes from work an open windowed joy (no, I don’t understand any of you I see in traffic with their windows up tight right now, and no, you have no justification for it so don’t even bother).
But nice weather and open windowed rides deserve tunes and tunes with some volume. So, I decided to put the Silencers, who I have been listening to exclusively for months and months now on hold (not that they can’t be played loud mind you) but instead go with something more deserving of loud.
Searching my tattered box of CD’s on the passenger side floor of Lilly the Car I came upon just the one and a one decidedly old school and of old friends.
I broke out Deep Purple “Machine Head” and Rainbow’s “Long Live Rock and Roll” from the vintage Dio days (a best of both that would fit on one burned CD).
Yep, the weather this week has been really nice and REALLY loud (added bonus of the loud is that it helps drown out, even temporarily, the noisy cacophony of stupid and the loud cluster fuck of dumb filling our days at the moment).
“Machine Head” also features my favorite Deep Purple tune “Lazy” (apologies to anyone around me in traffic who may have been concerned for my head hopping, shoulder shuffling, song singin’ well being. “Mommy, is that man in the car next to us alright?”)
A new thing here as to our current dire times filled with obviousness and anger, anger mostly fueled by said obviousness and with some older Trump parody tunes that still work at the end for some “umph”
I mean, who don’t like some “umph” right?
No, NOT that … f’ing people … I hate y’all … rasser frasser mummble rasser mummble frasser …
/////
Spent a good portion of the weekend, after some poetry, most of it bad poetry (which is sometimes the best poetry) working on a post where I intended to include a few of my Trump parody tunes, older ones that still work for the moment (as I tinker some new things that no one is waiting on but will at least give me momentary peace when they come) amid the current fascist clusterfuck that we find ourselves in, but it just wasn’t working for me. It may still, with a bit more attention, but for right now it was a no go, I mean I have standards to keep unlike this current whose only standard is to lie to us even more vociferously on a daily basis than the first time around and that is quite an accomplishment, it seriously is, as that former lie-fest was award worthy shit, but now it’s almost something you could commend simply for the sheer audacity of it, I mean there isn’t even a care this time to couch anything that could even remotely be considered close to fact, no, this time there is an almost gleeful and obvious disregard for anything even resembling a truthful narrative, which the first administration at least tried to fake and cover (though there were a few adults around then so …)
No this is full bore, in your mug, this is what we got now deal with it state news propaganda with a pretty face, though hers gets less pretty by the day. You’re witnessing, in real time a face spouting falsehoods and dangerous lies getting more cartoonish and ugly by the moment. You can almost see the devil she’s decided to embrace peering out through what surely once were innocent and hopeful eyes. It is some pretty strong Kool-Aid being drunk there at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
But lets be clear about one thing. There is a lot of talk being bandied about, about who is or who is not a true American or true patriot depending on whether or not you support this despot in waiting. If you do, if you still support him even after what you have seen the only one being un-American is YOU. YOU are supporting the destruction of democracy, you know, that thing you grew up with and were taught of before you were now told that that wasn’t really quite right, and the building instead of exactly what our democracy was intended to escape and protect us from. You are supporting a budding, inhuman dictatorship, period. You have NO argument to make otherwise.
That’s it. You can hem and haw and “ummm, but”, you can justify and rationalize, you can cherry pick stances, you can split rhetorical hairs or find some semantic that will allow you to escape your support of a dictatorship and the loss of freedom and liberty that will come from it when project 2025 goes into full effect but you can’t escape it no matter how you might try to word around and distance yourself from it. And this has been said over and over and over, it’s not like I’m treading any new ground here.
YOU ARE COMPLICIT in all the wrongs that are still to come and there will be many and YOU WILL OWN THEM. YOU in that complicity. You own Stephen Miller, that creepy neo-nazi weasel who fashions himself in SS uniforms in the mirror at home. You own Heil Homan, that troll who lives under a bridge in a really dark Grimm Tale and looks like he wants to eat your children. You own Margie Q Greene and her gloried ignorance. You own JD Vance and his smooth, condescending faux intelligence “free speech” only if it’s our speech bullshit. You own Pete Hegseth and his misogynistic, white supremacy. You own Nancy Mace, shit, where to even start there. You own Karoline Leavitt and her daily barrage of smiling, smirking lies. You own RFK Jr and his anti-science, anti-medicine “I’m not a doctor but I play one on TV and in cabinet meetings”. You own the references to Hitler, referenced with pride. You own Kristi Noem, and no one wants that, tight cute Cosplay ICE outfits notwithstanding. You own Linda McMahon and her artificial intelligence steak sauce. You own Brendan “State News Only” Carr, you own the whole lot and all that have acquiesced and paid their protection money. That feeling you have right now that you are covered with your fealty, your allegiance, that joy you have in this moment, most probably just a one that has finally allowed you thumb your nose at the other side and feel superior, however childish and petty and juvenile that is? It will come for you too. You will find, eventually, that the liberties you thought you had earned with your oaths and obeisance will also be taken.
No, we need to stand and brace ourselves. Make noise. A lot of noise.
Oh, and Elon Musk is robbing you/us blind as we speak, F’n devil in stupid hats.
Anyway, how about a song or three, ya know, to lighten the mood.
////////////////////////////////////////
(originally posted April 20, 2020)
“Brand New Trump Key”
(to Melanie’s “brand New Key”)
Brand New Trump Key
I rode my motorcade to your city last night
To spin some lies and give you all such a fright
To harp on victim-like and rail conspiracies
I know you trust me know I’m just what you need
.
Well, I’ve got brand new world in mind here now
Take heart my unhinged screed
I’ll be proven right my ranting now
You just need to wait and see
I know what you need it’s a Donnie me
A fascist change of scene
.
Well, I’ve got a brand new world in mind here now
It just ain’t democracy
.
I ride my plan of year twenty of twenty five
I got my dee-scipes proving be worthy scribes
Of new world order in these United States
If you don’t subscribe you’ll surely be less than great
.
Oh yeah
Hah hah hah hah
Oh you will face my wrath
Hah hah hah hah
Oh yeah yeah yeah you’ll wish you hadn’t said that
.
I ask my people to stand up and be strong
Kiss my ring say they knew it all all along
That I was chosen by the man sittin’ way up high
To lead a fascist state while democracy dies
.
Well, I’ve got a brand new way to look at things
Won’t believe what I’ll bring
A brand new U.S.A. prosperity
‘long as you call me King
La la la la la la la la la la la
Well, I’ve got a brand new world in mind here now
It just ain’t democracy
////////////////////////////////////////
(originally posted June 16, 2019)
Tricking the Whole
(to The Beatles “Fixing A Hole”)
I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King
To keep their minds from wondering
What the truth knows
.
I’m filling the gaps marking all that I say
With prop-a-ganda being way
To sell truth now
.
And it’s really heady matter for elites I lie
For a fake press I lie
The haters cry
.
But see my dog base blinding there who loyally lap at my feet
Never finding truth crumbs on the floor
.
I’m painting bona fide in a red white and blue
My fingers make confusing swirls
Till you let go
Oooh Oooh Oooh Ahh Ahh
(succumb you will in time)
Hey Hey Hey … Hey
.
And hey batter batter batter
Swing and miss my man, can’t hit this pitch you can’t
Not this big spin
.
I’m on the mound base is the crowd
They pay no mind they are fact free
See how they’re wowed by my huge back door curve
.
I never take time to study the things that were important yesterday
They don’t matter now
Oooh Oooh Oooh Ahh Ahh
Hey Hey
.
I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King
It gets my mind to wandering ’bout new royals Ohhhh
Who we could own owwwwnnn
.
I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King
My mind is always floundering
In a dark hole … in a dark hole
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
(originally posted May 7, 2022)
We Want You … To Be … We
(to Cheap Trick’s “I Want You To Want Me”
—
We want you to be we
We need you to be we
We’ll force so please just a-gree
Can’t have you livin’ feelin’ free
—
We want you to be we
Not right to live to your own de-gree
We know what’s best as only god does decree
—
We’ll shine up our partisan court, the one that’s been godly bought
Parade them over your free thought, make sure that you are sin free
—
We’re tired of spending time feelin’ persecuted
We need able dictate how your lives are executed
It’s not fair to watch you all go about your happy dailies
While we’re forced to fret and live with all your evil failings
—
We want you to be we
See country the way that it should be
Revisioned right light history
One white and straight you’ll all see
—
And shine up on all old hurts, of unallowed to convert
Bring handmaids to life, ‘cause we know just what is right
—
Will we neglect children after grabbing their first real air
Of course cause hypocrisy we’ve got plenty in spare
We’ll only find our end until it is that you all stop tryin’
Pursuit of happiness is up to us to do the decidin’
—
Ohhh!
—
We’ll work in a morality play’s future dire warnin’
But that future won’t know it from this backwards day future dawnin’
A dVerse Poets prompt from Grace for exploring some “Magical Realism”, blending the ordinary with the extraordinary, placing magical or fantastical elements into a realistic, yet grounded, setting.
//////////////////////////////////////////
Pantomime Madness in Spring
I curse and I sign
some nonsensical finger pantomime
of guessed import
asking myself to ask myself if I am losing my mind
(don’t tell your friends or family or enemies to then confirm
or yourself
for that matter
for any matter
at any time
to maybe infirm)
some swiped in air construct
that scatters symbols I saw maybe movie many once
or numerous too book look in one bulging volume
but thin for dunce
enough
to comprehend
found in dances and trances and drinks of history
family
in the field or wood or street
or square
all bursting, blurting, bustling, blustering
“you are crazy”
into dream’s fractured wholes
repeating
holes
with made up symboled twist musts
of fingers
to ward off gists only you seem to
get
well
but
not well enough
git
now
it’s cold
.
But you asked of me, of little sprites, of flower winged mites
and whisperers
whispering between trees
asked of all me’s to explain what went bump
what went thump
in the cold stark of winter
what bursted or blurted or bustled or blustered
what silenced loud to still
find
what was lost
just out of in under around the corner of your extra nesting eye
.
I did
I apologize
but will you will with me
bump and thump
and burst and blurt or bustle or bluster
and loud silence still
night
heal fractures that come to light
only then
soothe in day
through flowered walks, down path’s of plenty
scents of perfumed many
it is Spring again
after all
have you seen?
have you been?
to help me entertain what I don’t know and how lost lost lost and how it came
It was a bit of a week in Frankenland, yes, simple radio commercial/podcast producer guys have those too, not that that is a thing you think about for comparison, but it was a bit of a week nonetheless.
All I wanted to do at the end of it was to just sit, as I have mentioned before, just sit. Though I realize there are many things that are better and healthier than just sitting, like anything other than just sitting, maybe line dancing on a Wednesday night with Kacey and the girls, or tennis with unfound friends at that country club back when, when they declined my application for what I don’t know (Hey! that was just once and Mrs Wagaman’s rose bushes grew back just fine the next year thank you! No, I didn’t know her husband was the chairman of the country club board) I did though get a kiss from THE most popular girl in school courtesy of a few rose bushes (I think, memory gets a bit hazy right around then) and in front of people! PEOPLE! (still hazy) and screw you, I didn’t play tennis anyway.
I wanted to only do just that, sit, damning the possible healthy of a walk but not damning the computer chair with a cat on a lap.
But one of the things I like to do in this just sitting is to put my headphones on, the one’s only held right ear together now with spit and duct tape (a bit scratchy and sticky and wet but workable) and listen to some of my stuff, my old parodies to see if they still stand, which of course they do, just dated, I mean he hasn’t really changed all that much other than being more empowered in his authoritarian dreams.
Anyway, I also did do some tunes then that weren’t the doom and gloom of an orange.
I figured at the time to branch out and get my head out of the morass (see what I almost did there?)
This was one of my first and and a long time favorite still (also another I did at the time, We Let Billy Drive The Car). Just something to an instrumental I had found and the remembering of old girlfriends.
It is something I have posted and re-posted before but why not again?
Hell, this shit is mine and so is this blog so …
//////////////////////////////////////////
She Said (Old T-shirt Song)
She said where have you been because ya seem lost
Feel like I’m living a fever dream but at what cost
Where you’re here one day then gone the next is this a test
I’m even wearing that old T-shirt that you liked the best
—
But is it yours or mine I’m not quite sure
Did I even one time even know this band I forget the tour
Found it on the floor newly washed I’m sure I think it’s yours
But you’re somewhere gone I think I must report you lost
—
We used to be on page in the same book
And you would give me looks to make me bend around with you
And send me stars as dots to connect of how you and I were them
Until we reached the moon no lookin’ back just … postcards to send
—
She said we sillied with the best of them
Made others envy green when they couldn’t contend with us they bled
That green and not just in the month of March is what they jigged
You’d make us angry year round if we could only ever be mad at you …
—
But you’re missing now … she said
What’s happened to you … where is your head
But you’re missing now … she said
What place do you go … one that isn’t our stead
You’re missing now … she said
Is it a place where I can bring you back now from the dead
———-
I guess this T-Shirt’s mine now is what she says
I think I might just even have to wear it to bed
But not with thoughts of you if that’s somehow in your head
No I won’t be wearin’ it long … that’s what he said
—
No it’ll hit the floor running as he gives me looks
To bend around with him in writing pages fresh book
And he sends me new stars on new trips to the moon
This is to a daily poetry thing for this month I wasn’t aware of and that I obviously haven’t followed along with, but day five did come up earlier for me and the prompt is here … a graph of three columns to basically choose one from each.
Now I’m sure I didn’t quite keep to the prompt exactly but from the three columns I went with “crazy eyes here”, “hymn” and “moonlight”
So, anyway …
//////////////////////////////////////////
I’m Ready
I steal steely crazed glances between the blinds
through goggle glasses with cool blinder flaps
and a crushed torn beat bent brim ballcap
in moonlight
peeking from out a blanket …
with binoculars too
under chairs and baseball bats
and plungers and sticks I gathered during the day
for stand in the heels of sneakers
that no one would miss
unless there was suddenly company and mom presented trays
or an incident in the bathroom
or the woods missed their kids
or if game time suddenly discovered night had been turned to day
just something THEY would do
… draped over pillows and nosing cats and snoring dogs and sci-fi books
and I waited
by flashlight for the louding star hymns only I could hear
So, there was a poetry prompt from Leslie, who you can find to explore at LeslieScoble.com, to write a poem with the main stipulation being that your narrator be seated on a bench. The rest of the prompt’s details are here, The Bench: A monologue poem including Leslie’s own wonderful take on her own prompt.
Hi and welcome to the Attic, I'm Frankenberry of said Blog Title and I write of just my everyday here, sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don't like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that's just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or short story-etic or something like that. If you're joining me here I thank you, but just mind your head and feet and keep an eye out for my little Bella and Cricket The Blind as well as the memories of Raspberry (Razzy), Mimi the Quirky, of Blink The Lil' Kit, Grayson the Mighty, Shoes the Big Orange, Shana-Girl, Benny Good Man Benny Brown, Merlin & Bob. Wouldn't want you step on them or anything ... 'cause then I might just have to throw you down the stairs ... damned humans.
Sundarbans,The sunderbans, Sundarban Tour, Sundarban Travel Guide, Mangrove Forest, UNESCO World Heritage Site, Royal Bengal Tiger, Tiger Sighting, Wildlife Photography, Bird Watching, Sundarban Safari, Houseboat Tour, Ecotourism, Adventure Travel, West Bengal Tourism, Bangladesh Tourism, People of Sundarbans, Local Culture, Bonbibi, Mowal, Honey Collector, Sundarban Legends, Mangrove Ecosystem, Conservation, Climate Change, Biodiversity, Sundari Tree, Sundarban Itinerary, Travel to Sundarbans, Kolkata to Sundarbans, Sundarban Boat Trip, Wildlife in Sundarbans, Saltwater Crocodile, Spotted Deer, Indian Python, King Cobra, Sundarban National Park, Sundarban Tiger Reserve, Bay of Bengal, River Cruise, Nature Photography, Forest Life.
A personal exploration of autism from a brother’s perspective, including family relationships, philosophy, neuroscience, mental health history and ethics
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