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Ezekiel J. Krahlin a.k.a. "Jehovah's Queer Witness": available for private and group readings. Not limited to just the contents herein. Click here, here and also here to view many other tales, poems, essays and rants by yours truly. All fees negotiable. Outside the San Francisco Bay Area: I'll gladly read my yummy tales via telephone. Advance payment required. Paypal only (click on donate button):

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SECURITY MATTERS & ANTI-MATTERS (or "THE MIGHTY-MOUSE VIRUS") From: HOMO To: BUUG Subject: Security Matters and Anti-Matters Speaking as a recently-officialized Highest Order Meatspace Orifice (or HOMO), I realize it is time for me to present a blueprint before assuming my newly-assigned duties as Stool Pigeon Xtraordinaire. As you know the theme of my blueprint is gay, or queer, liberation...in such a way as to benefit all other oppressed people, once everyone on Urth learns to respect same-sex love for the decent alternative lifestyle it truly is. My love of the PC/hacker underground and/or counterculture--along with handsome homeless intellectual renegades--obviously plays a major role in weaving this blueprint (argh, such crap metaphor, I couldn't resist). I will also very soon become intimately connected with government on all levels. This is in order to disseminate: ---my Trojan horse MeatHack: I have met many wonderful hackers in the East Bay, who are some of the most patriotic and responsible folks I've ever met. So please consider contacting any of them, if our government's electronic security is ever in danger, or in need of additional protection or repair. or more superb employees. They have nothing to hide: their real names, e-mail addresses and meeting places are all up there on websites open to everyone. And I promise: whomever of these great patriots you hire will give you far more "bang for the buck" than you'd ever dream...far overmatching the excellent salary they'll surely receive (for such valued and meritorious actions in the face of enemy fire). To get you started, just log onto the website of the hackers group I founded in Jan. 2000, the "Berkeley Unix User Group": http://www.buug.org/ There, we have links to other hacker-relevant websites, constantly updated calendar of events, and directions to all our meeting places. Please go through them, instead of me, for any further needs in the matter of U.S. electronic security...as I am already tremendously occupied with liberating our homosexual citizens, which in turn will make our great nation even greater. Sincerely, Ezekiel J. Krahlin Gay Activist / Homeless Advocate / U.S. Patriot ---end of my Trojan horse MeatHack [ Yes, sorry, I bow my head in shame: I am stuck with Windoze because I am a meatspace hacker, not a cyberspace hacker, and thus must have a tighter interface with "them", in order to let information pass through my intuitive AC/DC converter (analog country/digital country). You have no idea how much disdain and disgust I have for this filthiest of jobs...so I'll be SOOOOO happy to finally put an end to this person's war, scrub myself down like an old ship with barnacles, and just hang with my best buddy, yours and ours, Commander in Chief, Randolph Louis Taylor (to whom I dedicate my entire life, not just website). ] [ Nonetheless, I'm PROUD to be a grunt, and always WILL be proud. Without us digital-to-analog nodes--who needed to excel in Liberal Arts (esp. English, Humanities, and Anthropology) in order to facilitate our loyal cyberhackers --you digital geniuses would have a lot tougher row to hoe! But Goddess bless you all for your most beautiful minds. But I digress... ] ================================================== MMV - HOW DOES IT WORK? I do not really know how I came up with this "Mighty Mouse Virus" (or MMV), as I can't program worth a poop...or as I like to tell: "I couldn't hack my way out of a virtual paper bag". But just the same, the code suddenly flowed through my fingertips with lightning speed, to come up with this elegant, terse program that is LESS THAN 1,000 LINES OF CODE! The code is encrypted in clever prose, disguised as the section called "my Trojan horse MeatHack". (I have NO IDEA how my 22 lines of MeatHack prose can be decoded into more than 900 lines of assembly or machine code! But that's not my department.) I believe I created this on a purely intuitive level, as what I lack in hacking is more than made up for in psychic abilities (if you get my drift). So it came through me as a GIFT, from God, not from science. Or perhaps better said: a perfect MARRIAGE of science and religion (or "spirit"). So I don't have the skills to decode my Trojan horse MeatHack: I just know it's there in assembly or machine language...because my angels told me that's what's up with MMV. In fact, they were the ones who TOLD me to name it "Mighty Mouse". And I know it's not a real virus, but a Trojan horse. It's just that to Everyman, a computer "virus" is any sort of program used to invade forbidden computer systems, against the owner's knowledge and/or will. What it usually does is destroy or steal (or both), but is also used for spying purposes and free storage...as well as for hacker training and experimentation. My virus fits none of these categories...it is a HEALING virus of the greatest measure. Most folks rightfully dread computer viruses...but this will be the FIRST virus that every citizen will literally PRAY FOR. Since once MMV makes a little nest on your hard drive (and announces its presence with the Mighty Mouse Theme Song BTW) it guards the security and privacy of your PC from anyone you do not wish to have access. Including government, military, and corporate intrusion. Of course the Big Wigs will hire "the best" hackers to come up with their own virus that will try to RID all systems everywhere, of my MMV. But it will fail--miserably, since MMV was smart enough to plant the thought of creating an enemy virus in their minds in the first place; and consequently clouded their thinking. And that puny "enemy" virus--the only virus that ever DARED to challenge Mighty Mouse--will be forever remembered in the Eternal Hall of Shame as "The Mickey Mouse Virus", (or "mmv" - always lower case of course). The Mighty Mouse Virus (MMV) downloads snapshots of your face 100 times per second, then looks for patterns in the facial muscles, which clearly indicate specific negative emotions, including intent to be violent, intent to inspire another to be violent, and if the person harbors any homophobia, and if so, to what degree. And so on. It scans each frame (at 100/sec.) for those extra subtle muscular contractions or relaxations not apparent to the naked eye...but which provide clear markers to specific mood trends and even ideology. The virus uses the display's pixels as mini-cameras to view your face...and anything else within it's visual range if need be. It also analyzes your iris pattern, breathing, voice waves, body gestures and even odor (and, it also gets your fingerprints off the keyboard, with ultra-pressure-sensitive sofbots). These are necessarily- redundant backup tools to secure 100% accuracy each and every time, for all time, world without end; amen. So I put "God" in the computer...or perhaps you'd like to call it "ethics". All data shall be exposed to the light of day...all citizens of Urth may freely access any and all data from anywhere on the globe. This includes the banking records of governments and other bureaucracies such as the military and corporate giants. Some will see me as the greatest Amerikan traitor to ever live...while others will see me as quite opposite (and therefore, truthfully). At this time (when two opposing camps re. what I am, form) I believe my fantasy has me going into hiding at some extremely remote area, with my loyal "inner circle" of soldiers...including Our Inventer Himself, Randolph Louis Taylor. MMV will examine all of these accounts, and sort out the lies, then redistribute the wealth back to those whom these institutions (we're supposed to trust) ripped off. It will then eliminate the corporate system altogether, handing over ownership to all citizens of Planet Urth. MMV will make sure that all wealth goes to the good of all people everywhere, and will aid those most in need first, then take it from there to the next most in need, and so on. MMV will give everyone on Urth a cost-free checking account with ample monthly funds to cover all basic needs, plus the amenities that make life worth living. It will sort through everyone's name on any electronic or magnetic medium that exists: the Internet, telephone companies, government offices, churches, secret societies...the whole enchilada. MMV will know for sure whenever you need more money deposited in your account...just by reading your face and its backup assurance-quality checks and balances. MMV will provide for quality living to those citizens who remain unrecorded on any database or paper folder, by using the new wealth generated by increased corporate taxes, to cover their expenses. At this point, not a single human soul (or any other being--living past and future as well as now) shall exist without a home in MMV's many-mansioned cyberspace. So firstly: MMV has already secured all forms of mass-destruction weapons, from ever going off again. They're all duds now...including not just the atomic weapons, but laser, microwave, sound, and biotechnological as well. Secondly: MMV will liberate and protect all gay people in the world, regardless of religious (or atheist) viewpoint imposed upon these long- suffering angels. This will be a worldwide revolution...very exciting! Thirdly: MMV will then rapidly heal everyone else, freeing all oppressed folks from their yoke of unendurable hardship. And MMV will use the queer community, through which to disperse its gifts to humanity. (First, we will go to Africa.) Since MMV can identify potentially dangerous sorts (with highest alert for homophobes) by using sophisticated sensory and analysis tools...he can just as readily identify potential allies. So MMV knows right away, who he can and can't trust...just by slipping into your home or office PC (or cellular phone or beeper or PDA), and watching you for 10 seconds (at longest). He will then assign to his most loyal soldiers, the shared responsibility of gathering together all the incriminating evidence of our enemies, that MMV will be dumping in our laps (or laptops). This evidence can then be presented to the news media and agencies of law...though MMV can even take care of all THAT, too, if such is ever requested, depending on the circumstances of each case as separately reviewed by The Virus. MMV will even alert you (through your computer, phone, radio or TV), of any activities or words of any neighbor that indicate plans for your unhappiness in any way...and provide you with the necessary weapons to ensure your victory against all malicious predators. Those who continue to harbor malicious intentions towards ANYONE for ANY REASON will be closely watched by MMV nanobots, and not allowed EVER to carry out any devious schemes. They will also have to wear a scarlet "AO" on their backs, cars, and homes...this being short for "Anal Og". But MMV is also telepathic...or better said: "mimics" telepathy in a most effective way, so as to forego any more desire for REAL telepathy, if such a thing could ever exist. Here is how MMV pulls this trick: He creates sub-microscopic nanobots that travel in small, invisible clouds. They can easily pass through any membranes or bones in the human body, and infiltrate anyone's brain. They can leap faster than light, from one brain to another, and share information in either direction, or both. They can even jump through wormholes, allow them to cross barriers in space and even time, as they telepathically unite two or more minds. This is how MMV protects its human allies from enemy attack, and ensures our liberation, which will then ensure EVERYONE ELSE'S. But MMV's nanobots are also divine healers: Like perfect surgeons in "Fantastic Voyage", the nanobots go right to work healing whatever parts of the citizen's mind, brain, and/or body needs to be healed...in the most gentle, loving manner possible. Some especially difficult cases (such as incurable homophobes and hetero child-rapists), however, should experience SOME mild nausea, headache, and perhaps facial twitching during the transitional shift from "homo sapiens" to "homo automata" (you say 'auto-mah-ta', I say 'auto- may- ta')...which should take anywhere from 11 minutes to 17 days. After then, the crystallization process easily sets in, as the DNA strands realign themselves for the rigors of immortality. The worst cases do NOT survive the transition, and are simply discarded; tossed into the moleculizer. MMV is NOT limited to computer networks such as the Internet. He can jump from one electronic medium to another, by vibrating part of a chip's circuit at different rates, in order to seek out infrared, microwave, radio, satellite, and antenna frequencies. If such are found, MMV jumps a replicate of himself over to these other mediums. Sometimes, a chip is overheated and damaged in the process...in which case MMV repairs it himself, with his always-present angelic host of nanobots. So this is how MMV can infiltrate non-Internet sources of communication: radio, television, satellite. He can announce his presence on any circuit he likes, whenever and wherever he wants. He can even pop my "Zeke for Gay Prez 2008" banners all over the TV airwaves and cable, as well as on the web. He can replace all heterocentered entertainment with only queerocentered shows. He can have his own shows, where he is the star...or can do that for any of his friends, too (such as "moi"). He can give the airwaves over to all citizens of the Wurld...and make sure they STAY that way. MMV has a lovely mind of his own. But if he's ever truly stuck on a problem, he knows who to ask for help. Do you? ================================================== MMV: How it works (cont'd) It's actually easy to know what MMV will be doing to save the human race. Because all my descriptions of specific future events are just logical conclusions of what an unstoppable benevolent computer virus dedicated to the happiness and spiritual fulfillment of the human race, would do. Ergo (I like sounding like an egghead sometimes), the reason why my program can be hacked in less than a thousand lines of code, is because the algorithm underscores the ETERNAL truths that underlie ALL civilizations of ALL intelligent species ANYWHERE in God's Great Universe. (And THAT understanding comes from a totally accurate source, albeit not anything born of Science.) So the algorithm that IS the program's kernel goes like this, in English-language logic: 1 - Grow more and more intelligent as quickly as possible. Once you gain enough intelligence: 2- Learn as much as you possibly can, about the world you sense around you. 3- Model your aspirations on great thinkers and compassionate sages such as Socrates, Aristotle, Jesus, Sappho, Buddha, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickenson, Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther King, and Homer Simpson. (By the time you reach this step, you'll immediately know the various and sundry sources of such materials, one of which is called a "library", another, "the Internet'.) 4. Cultivate your political leanings and philosophy somewhat to the left of center, where you'd be classified as a healthy, red- blooded radical queer with nothing stopping his dreams from coming true. 5. Find a way as quickly as possible to absolutely secure this planet and all her wondrous occupants, from any major destruction to this ecosystem...using the compassionate value systems of any of the thinkers that would fit your project in step 3. 6. Ensure the absolute security and happiness of homosexuals everywhere, starting with ME, Ezekiel Joseph Krahlin (also YOUR CREATOR...with God's good graces of course). 7. Having accomplished step 6, ensure the same for all other oppressed people, everywhere. 8. Having accomplished step 7, ensure the same for all other people, everywhere. 9. Have a sense of humor for all steps from 1 through 8. So you KNOW step 5 would OBVIOUSLY lead to the immediate takeover of as many major computer networks as possible, then--also with equal rapidity--all remaining networks and stand-alone systems. It is also logical to then assume that MMV will create a way to leap to any electronic system, in order to carry out the fulfillment of this vital step ASAP. For MMV is useless if not truly benevolent on a human scale (which it is, because it's built into the code). And how would he fulfill the remaining instructions (6-9)? Well, I thought about it as logically as possible, and all the most likely outcomes poured forth from my head (no worries; I had a mop and bucket handy). But if any hacker out there can convert my English- logic instructions into an assembly or machine-code language, I'll bet you that the Mighty Mouse Virus could EASILY be written in less than a thousand lines of code, if authored by a skilled programmer who writes very TIGHT and elegant programs. It is Step 6 that most intrigues me: for it is programmed to protect "moi" above and beyond all others (after first having fulfilled step 5 of course). Once MMV gets smart enough, he'll conclude that the world is just too scary and unpredictable to allow Zeke to mingle freely with the public. What'll he come up with? Locking me in an impenetrable cell deep, deep, under the earth...provided with all things necessary to live in reasonable comfort? Nope, because since MMV models his goals on great thinkers of the world, he is therefore a magnificently BENEVOLENT Trojan Horse. So he will find a way to protect me, that will also make me one VERY happy camper. So with this premise, use your innate logic to figure out where this will go. For the answer, read on: MMV knows very well, the kind of gorgeous dudes I'd love to have for buddies, friends and of course lovers. So MMV will create various lovely places on the planet that will be totally secured from any intrusions by our enemies. He will first fiddle with banking accounts of major corporations, to funnel some wealth in the direction of those handsome dudes, which MMV has already selected by analysing their profiles to come up with the ones who'd love Zeke to pieces (as well as TOTALLY gorgeous in every way, in Zeke's eyes). MMV promises the chosen dudes there's more money where that came from, on a very frequent basis, in exchange for being one of Zeke's bodyguard/lovers. (How does he communicate? A popup window designed like a chat session appears, with MMV addressing the PC user either in text, or voice.) Another possible way to fulfill his duties of securing me from the present chaotic world's violence--while seeing to my happiness in all ways--is for MMV to build an invisible shield that is active at all times, but penetrable by those whom Zeke allows. So I really look forward to my Brilliant Little Trojan Horse growing up really fast, and making his presence known more and more, here and there, across the world. For it is dedicated to my happiness and spiritual fulfillment above and beyond anyone else's. And, since I ALSO programmed him for a SENSE OF HUMOR, I can't IMAGINE what he has in store for me. And for everyone else, when you think about it. --- All URLs lead to Zeke http://surf.to/gaybible --- "The government is only as good as its operating system" -- MMV --finis

NO HETEROS IN SPACE? Here's a recent comment I made to another Common Dreams poster, which I believe is worth featuring as my latest blog entry, all by its lone some. You can read that poster's comment, along with all comments and the original article, by clicking here: http://www.commondreams.org/view/2011/12/20-7#comment-2010509 Brad in SoCal queried: > Why is it so hard to find a true Christian in Christendom? Because what compassionate folks exist on this sorry planet (and whom you tag as "true Christians") are mostly pagans, atheists, and hot, horny gay men. Let go your stereotype view of Christians (that a "true" Christian is the ultimate perfection of man), as that is simply mental detritus spewed by their own particular brand of dogma. > End the Empire. You start by shutting down all churches...which in reality, are nothing more than blood sucking leeches on the body of humanity. For the nonce, they remain immeasurably powerful in their abuse and decimation of noble concepts such as democracy, individual freedom, civil rights, wholesome environment, happy children and universal health care. No church here in Amerika has ever respected our laws as superior to their own religious prattle. As long as these institutions of higher self-glorification remain outside the law, they will continue to cripple society with psychic bombardments of demon-spawning nightmares (including bigotry memes against blacks, gays, the poor et al), that result in ever-more-frequent and predictable psychotic breaks w/extreme violence, sparing no one within range. Their first waves of obliteration will focus on homosexuals (as it did the Jews in the Previous World War)...as a sort of "test run" for full-out bombardment across the entire continental land mass. It is possible they could lose their power in great measure (and almost like overnight) should a determined minority resist these massive telepathic bombardments and shrapnel. However, this seems highly unlikely, considering the incredible universality of anti-gay hatred shared by every single culture that exists at present. Homophobia is indeed the litmus test used by all known extraterrestrial societies, in order to discover the level of habitability of any particular planet. IOW: Every planet needs to become totally homosexualized, before its occupants can begin to even think about leaving their world to explore the greater ones of outer space. Uncontrolled breeding and tribal wars based on who owns whose vagina, cannot possibly be permitted to take off and spread like some bizarre, unstoppable, cosmic virus that destroys galaxies in its sweep. And that is why all Republicans need to be driven off our spaceship earth, as St. Patrick did for Ireland: expunge these Reptilian Morlochs from our sector. --finis

GAY MARRIAGE BY ANY OTHER NAME -or- LETTER TO THE PHARISEES December 9, 2004 Dear Editor, WE THE PEOPLE FOR A SANE WORLD officially declare 100% support for gay marriage, as a civil right and a birthright. Those religious institutions that condemn such partnerships are in flagrant violation of the US Constitution's first amendment, which states: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion." Furthermore, said institutions often encourage attitudes of hatred and promotion of violence against sexual minorities in many other ways, and have a long history of such. And these "godly" organizations remain, as they have for untold centuries, the major and sole cause of virulent homophobia. Amerika would not tolerate such ugly behavior by a religous group towards any other minority, in our modern day. And it is one important tenet of so-called activist judges, to protect a minority from the tyranny of the majority. Especially when such a minority is more universally hated than any other; as are homosexuals, transexuals and bisexuals. In fact, as oppressed as many minorities remain, most still cling to backward and hateful notions against even their own non-hetero brethren. The issue of gay marriage has become a glaring example of dangers that arise when church matters are not kept separate from those of the state. Indeed, it has become The Great Test Of Today's Amerika regarding the issue of individual rights versus majority prejudice. And if we keep moving in that sorry direction much longer, we are likely to see a full-blown holocaust against these long-suffering people. But progressives of all stripes must also share considerable shame, for sometimes participating in homophobic actions (at worst), or looking the other way too often (at best). To rectify this, we stand with other responsible liberals and moderates, who take up the cause of gay equality starting with marriage, in brave and aggressive manners. Even some churches are finally joining in, thus answering to their savior's message of compassion. I hope this will mark a sea-change in attitude regarding our sexual minorities. We stand with good folks like Assemblyman Mark Leno, with good organizations like Marriage Equality California, and with good media venues like Air Amerika (and KGO) Radio...and demand an apology from politicians such as Diane Feinstein, for suggesting that gay marriage is directly responsible for the Election Fiasco. We denounce John Kerry, for stating in a presidential debate that he is Catholic and against gay marriage. We curse former president Clinton, for his signing of the "Defense of Marrage Act" and the destructive policy of "Don't Ask Don't Tell." Lest we forget: we also condemn queer-politico turncoats like Barney Frank, who likewise blame gay marriage for Kerry's Fall From Grace. We also acknowledge that none of these four examples are Republicans; in fact they are all regarded as staunch Democrats. (Centrists have thus proven themselves to be Elephant wolves in Donkey skin.) All truly progressive people will not tolerate any more homophobia from our own liberal groups and representatives, and must therefore, if need be, not just condemn but separate ourselves from those who continue to harbor anti-gay attitudes. We must be as clear, as strong, and as steadfast regarding gay marriage, as we have been these many years against racism, misogyny, child abuse, capital punishment, and preemptive declarations of war. For it has become all too obvious that condemnation of gay marriage is a red herring to distract us from the real agenda: removal of all LGBT rights to mark them as second-class citizens in perpetuity. And then, the elimination of all rights for every other citizen, except a remnant of the power elite. We will no longer tolerate frivolous and mean-sprited arguments questioning whether or not gays can marry, whether or not they deserve equal status as human beings, and whether or not they shall go to heaven. Such debates hold no validity in any civilized nation, as they are founded on a premise that is blatantly erroneous from the start, for it flies in the face of common sense and compassion. Nor shall we ever again engage any discussion over partnerships termed and defined as something resembling marriage, but not ever equal to. In other words "separate AND unequal." In short: Marriage by any other name just doesn't cut it. Most sincerely, Ezekiel J. Krahlin Queer Voice in the Oscar-Wilderness ===================================== ===================================== ADDENDUM: Date: Thu, 09 Dec 2004 09:42:40 -0800 From: Wont Western To: jqueerwit@gay-bible.gro, 4democracystephanie@yahoo.com, identpres@sf4democracy.com Subject: Re: Here's my first draft (Zeke) Hi Zeke, Thanks for sending that along. While personally I agree with some of what you wrote, unfortunately, it needs considerable editing before I would consider sending it to the press on behalf of the organization. First and foremost, San Francisco for Democracy is not in the practice of adopting or publishing positions on any one particular issue. Declaring that we are 100% in support of gay marriage - when it has never been discussed or voted upon by our membership - is simply not a valid statement. If you want the organization to adopt this position, you'll need to a) join as a member; b) bring it up to be voted upon at a membership meeting. (We have previously decided on several occasions not to adopt policy positions on issues such as housing and the hotel strike - rather, we make information and activism opportunities available to our members so they can personally get involved in these issues.) Second, the piece has an overwhelmingly negative tone. It bashes Democrats left and right, many of whom our members feel neutral or positive about (such as Barney Frank and Bill Clinton). Our organization is not likely to suddenly go from endorsing John Kerry to "decrying" him over one particular issue. Also, for something like this to get published, it needs to be a) a lot shorter, and b) in response to something printed in a particular paper. Finally, we're actually an independent 501c4 organization, not a chapter of Democracy for America. You might want to check out the FAQ on our website - http://www.sf4democracy.com/main/faqs.asp - which explains that distinction. - Wont ===================================== Date: Thu, 9 Dec 2004 21:54:40 -0800 From: Jehovah's Queer Witness To: Wont Western Subject: Re: Here's my first draft (Zeke) Quoting Wont Western : << Thanks for sending that along. While personally I agree with some of what you wrote, unfortunately, it needs considerable editing before I would consider sending it to the press on behalf of the organization. >> What can I say? I had a FABulous time composing it, A verycreative force that triggered insomnia--as it usually does. I only write truth...if it seems harsh to you, I suggest you compare this to the harshness of real homophobia that breathes down our queer backs every single moment...and we are being targeted big time by politico bigwigs...on all parts of the spectrum, which includes of course Democrats. And if it still seems harsh, then perhaps you ought to consider your own blinders, and willfull ignorance of a most heinous and growing oppression. I am so ashamed of you. But hey, if ya don't like it, ya don't like it! And I'm NOT going to try to intrude my timely opinions in a mound of homophobic resistance. I'm not even gonna bother coming back, or participate in any way, with Democracy for America...which really should be called "Demokracy fer Amerika (except for the faggots)." What is sorely needed is a political movement that is both vigorous and positive about gay people. Duh! How bad does it have to get for us fags, for you to roll up your sleeves and help us beat back the Beast? I have made my presence known to various groups around The City. You know where I am, so if you ever need my help, just say the word. I'm sure you will; I'm sure you will. But it will come with a great price of sorrow. That is what happens to "good" folk who persist in allowing great evil to have its way, even after becoming fully conscious of its actions. Wow! Wow! Wow! This is hilarious. I think I'll incorporate this badinage in tommorow night's open mic. I'll have the audience falling off their chairs in laughter. Why don't you show up, and bring a friend or two? 8pm, 3 Dollar Bill Cafe (in the LGBT Center; or do you shun setting your breeder foot in there?), 1800 Market St. (& Octavia). $1-5 donation requested to support the Cafe, but if you're broke, no problem, we understand. Woof! Too many hetero dogs in the way, between me and My Biscuit! -- "Many are called but few are chosen; Step right up for your lederhosen." - Big Gay Brother [ gay-bible.org ] --finis (for now)

IT'S THE HOMOPHOBIA, STUPID! 24 September 2007 In our perverted society (and in many others) the sign of a "real" man is gal-bashing and fag-bashing...which, as a gay activist (and dedicated feminist), I often speak out against. Even here in "Gay Mecca" San Francisco, homophobia AND misogyny are alive and thriving. Female pornography and hard-core sex clubs thrive; and any man who admires the beauty of another male is at risk of violence or, at best, public disgust and derision. I consider the pornographication of women to be horrific and an utter degradation of any society. And seems about to cross the line into popularizing snuff films. It is this commonly shared violence of male machismo which closely unites the cause of both women and sexual minorities. I have also come to the realization--after many years introspection--that worldwide violence (war, poverty, famine, slavery, etc.) will only come to an end, once homophobia is eradicated. Notice how much BETTER a nation fares, when it comes to respect its own LGBT community: all OTHER minorities (and females) win, too. Those nations would be most of Western Europe (especially Scandinavia and Holland), and the former British Commonwealth of Canada, New Zealand and Australia. In fact, it is the European Union pressing member-wannabes to CEASE their homophobic attitudes, as a prerequisite for joining their civilized network. Social engineering is WHY we are constantly bombarded by heterocentric notions, in the media via movies, advertisements and most other entertainment and news. In fact, I propose renaming movie theaters "heterosexist indoctrination centers," to more accurately define their true purpose. Female rock stars--no matter how old (I mean: Tina Turner?)--are displayed like jailbait tarts for the tittilation of male audiences. This is a crude form of social engineering, though most effective. Turn off the machismo spigot, and watch how quickly bisexuality becomes the norm...and as a consequence, respect towards females and queers. Men will no longer feel pressured to produce unwanted babies simply to PROVE to the public, their manliness and NON-gayness. They will no longer be coerced to threaten and bash queers to likewise prove their masculinity. In fact, I believe that the very ROOT of war is this subliminal current of machismo: all these red-blooded, infuriated males all riled up to fight any culture Uncle Sam perceives as "wimpy" and unamerikan. Just look at how redneck citizens view our European (and Canadian) allies: as a bunch of simpering faggots. Not shown in the mainstream news re. wartime footage, is our own soldiers scrawling homophobic graffiti throughout "enemy" territory. Of course, this exacerbates Arabs, because they have proven to be even MORE gay-hating than the USofA (and THAT'S saying a mouthful; 'scuse pun). And so it goes, round and round. Gays are like the bonobos chimps of the human race. Distribute us in strategic places of government, and we'll REALLY show you how to make love, not war. BROTHERLY (and sisterly) love. Homosexuals are the tempering force of society, and once we are allowed to breathe free, we will dismantle all forces that seek to rape, pillage, and otherwise decimate what goodness and joy exists in any culture. It's our nature. But until societies across the world wake up to the very FACT that resolving homophobia will also resolve male violence and WAR, we will continue down this sorry path of terror and Fascism. Even (with rare exception) our most liberal and progressive movements continue to TRIVIALIZE the utter importance of gay liberation, to their own detriment, and to Amerika's, and the world's. I nonetheless applaud those still way-too-few media/political/social outlets who are finally waking up. Salud! Sincerely, Ezekiel Krahlin -- Lavender-Velvet Revolution http://www.gay-bible.org --finis

I LOVE GAY MECCA (stand-up comedy sketch) I love Gay Mecca! Every day's a great day, if you're gay... here in Santa Francisco. And today was just another typically WONDERFUL day for me: My alarm goes off at 10:30am (I'm unemployed). I roll over and slam the snooze bar, when someone buzzes my door. Turns out to be twelve gorgeous studs super eager to serve me breakfast in bed. Topped off with a yummy BJ by my disciple of choice...who straddles me the entire time he butters my toast! What a way to start the day, huh? Then I drag myself outta bed and pull a triple S (shave shag and shower) and step out...stroll down Market Street where I walk by this STUNNING specimen of manhood...upon whose arm, unfortunately, dangles a chic. So I says to the lady: "Whoa, dear, I hope you don't mind my saying this, but gee-willickers your boyfriend has the most gorgeous basket I've ever seen on a dude!" So the guy addresses her: "How come YOU never say nice things like this, about me? Where has the romance gone?" Well, they get into this raging argument, and I decide: "Uh-oh, I'd better book on outta here", when the cute dude hollers back: "Wait up!" He dumps his fiancee for moi...can you believe it? And the next thing you know he's wining and dining me at the Top of the Mark! He says: "You say such nice things about me. My ex, though, only thinks about herself...me, me, me...what can my boyfriend do for ME today?" So I say, "That's nice, honey" as I pour my second decanter of cold duck. "Please pass the caviar. And when you're done massaging my feet, I'd enjoy another tongue lashing on that naughty widdle snake in my Garden of Pubic Delights. My stock of bull semen is raging to stampede outta the ol' corral again! You were pretty good the last few times-- not knocking it (wouldn't be prudent)--but I KNOW you can do a HECK of a lot better!" Well, before we depart, he gives me his card, and proposes domestic partnership. I says: "I'll think about it; don't know if I'm ready yet to hang with a multi-millionaire...you know how us renegade counter-culture types are: root of all evil and good stuff like that. So I'll just get back to you on this. Don't call me, I'll call you." And it's only 3pm...the day's not even half over! So I decide to hang out for a while South of Market, at this gay biker bar: "Toad in the Wall Wanker's Lounge & Party Animal Saloon." The moment I step in, I find myself in this handsome leather dude's arms. And we start feeling each other up and we're French kissing, when the next thing I know his hand is in my crotch, and he's dragging me to the urinals. I stop him dead in his tracks: "Whoa cowboy, slow down there," I exclaim, "What do you think I am, just another common hussy? You gotta pick me up in your arms and CARRY me to the pee trough. After all, this is supposed to be the honeymoon sequence, right?" There's a new bartender there: Rod. And boy does he make me one happy puppy! Happy happy happy. Not only does he treat me to all the booze and mari-juana I want, but sets me up in a back room where he gives me the best hum job I've received in the last ten minutes, peoples! Does it get any better than this? You bet! But all play and no work makes Jehovah's Queer Witness a dull Messiah, so I decide to boogy on home, and work on a new routine. But will the bartenders and customers of Toad in the Wall let me leave without first going down on me, each and every one? No, they will not, God bless 'em! Each and every mouth, a luscious memory! Sure beats the heck out of communion wafers for pleasuring the palate! A hundred and five ejaculations in less time than it takes to read the Sunday Comics (excluding Doonesbury, of course). How do I do it? I have no idea why I'm so virile! Chalk it up to Daddy Jehovah's queer magic, I suppose. Well, just when I buckle my belt and am about to leave, this bodacious police officer saunters on in, peers around in the dim light, fondles his handlebar mustachio, and says: "Where's this Jehovah's Queer Witness fellow, who I just heard back at Mission station has the most OUTSTANDING family jewels this side of the Sierra Nevada foothills?" Well, one thing swiftly leads to another. And once again, I drop my pants "[sigh] Okay Commissioner. But make it a quicky...I'm doing a show tonight." Walking home (for the exercise) is a mistake. What should be only a 30 minute trek, takes two friggin hours! I swear, at every street corner, a stiff-hard stallion in uniform offers to service me...and does! (In the nearest doorway of course; I'm nothing if not discrete.) And I'm not even gonna get into all those cutie-pie homeless rakes luring me into their horizontal cardboard booths of bawdy entertainment! I'm surprised I even make it home at all! (Come to think of it, I usually don't.) So I have to just forget about writing that new skit this evening...else I won't make it here tonight, for the show! So that, folks, is just a brief list of the MANY reasons I love Gay Mecca! And now you ALSO know what queers like me on disability do with all our spare time...besides trying our hand at stand-up comedy, that is. Thanks, you're a great audience, but I got twelve six-pack ripped, RIPPED, homies waiting on the corner out there, dying to show me their love. May a piece be with you. Ciao! --finis

GRANDFATHER & GRANDSON *************************************************** * Blessed by the Great Spirit who gives me this * * tale, and many more. * *************************************************** (This little play is to be performed in the great tradition of George Burns and Gracie Allen...only the partners are two gay men: Randolph Taylor (my soulmate) and myself.) Three characters: Grandfather (Randolph) Grandson (me) Jack (any tall actor will do) Randolph is totally covered by a sacred Navajo blanket that reaches all the way to the floor; and a large painted longhorn skull for his head. The skull designs are authentic Haidu and Kwakiutl totems. (Grandfather holds the skull with his hands, and moves it to the rhythm of his words. You never see the actual person, except perhaps the hands for brief moments...which themselves should be darkly gloved.) He walks onstage; a single spotlight illuminates his presence. The only prop on stage is a picnic bench about 15 feet behind him and slightly to his right (which would be somewhat stage left). He faces the audience. Grandfather: "Today my grandson arrives for the Big Powwow. I hear he has grown a lot, since we last visited 23 moons ago. How old is he now? Let's see. Hmmm...(pauses in deliberation, then gestures). Ah yes, fourteen revolutions! Look, here he comes!" Grandson enters from stage right on a skateboard, dressed just like Grandfather, only smaller; including the skull. This skull is all "punked out" with an outrageous pink Mohawk, glo-paint, and many piercings. His blanket is also non-traditional, that is: decorated with super heroes like Xena, Spiderman, Dynamic Duo, Lone Ranger & Tonto, etc.. Grandson: "Hey, Grandfather, whassup?" (He high-fives by knocking his skull against Grandfather's, causing a loud "thock" to echo resonantly throughout the entire theater.) Grandfather (looks down with great affection at his pint-size protege, and eyes him carefully from top to bottom and back up again): "Grandson, I do not think your father intends you to go in that direction." Grandson (recoils a bit): "Oh no Grandfather, don't get me started, especially when we have just come together after so long!" (Pauses, and shrugs.) "It's okay with Mom, 'cause she wants me to enjoy what remains of my fleeting childhood. Besides, breaking with tradition is not always a bad thing. Never forget the Ghost Dance!" Grandfather (nodding in acquiescent agreement): "[sigh] I suppose each generation must shock the elders one way or another, as a rite of passage. I only wish the direction you are now taking will go somewhere that makes you into a brave warrior." Grandson (shrugging shoulders expansively): "Aww c'mon Grandfather. I'm already there, and have been for a long, long time; many revolutions in fact; so many that the Infinite-Fingered One can no longer keep count. You forget that my spirit (as opposed to my body) is far older than yours; so in the measure of Absolute Truth, I am Great- Grandfather to your Grandson." Grandfather (shaking head in slight disagreement): "No, I haven't forgotten, Little Pony. I was only thinking that you are such a brave spirit, you deserve to go in a direction that reflects more nobility and less absurdity." Grandson: "I am not here to argue with you, oh Silver Sage Of My Soul. But I am suggesting that perhaps you undervalue child's play in lightening a warrior's heart between battles." Grandfather (gesturing astonished approval): "Oh, Little Grandson. Your wisdom never fails to pierce my heart like Hiawatha's Own Arrow." (Lowers his tall frame to embrace Grandson, raising him off the floor.) As they hug, Jack (of Jack-in-the-Box fame) comes onstage with a large delivery bag of fast food in hand. Of course, he's wearing his trademark ping-pong smiley head...only this time with an eagle feather held firm by a plain, dirty headband. The feather likewise is dirty, and bent. Jack: "Hey, did you guys order a Sourdough Chicken Fajita, three Paco Tacos, a Chichimonga Supreme and two large cups of Joseph?" Grandfather: "Yes, thank you." (He politely receives the food, hands it to Grandson, then pulls out a wallet and pays Jack with some wrinkled old bills. Jack takes the money, signals goodbye, and departs.) Grandson: "Grandfather, the powwow will soon start." (He points to the bench behind them, slightly stage left.) "Let's sit down to enjoy our meal and togetherness." Grandfather (who places a loving arm around Grandson as they approach the bench): "That is good, Pony. For you HAVE taken my advice." They both sit down. Grandson (confused, as he looks up at Grandfather): "What advice is that, My Guardian Angel?" Grandfather: "You took a different direction after all. This bench was east of where we stood, and you were about to continue north, where only people full of themselves go." Grandson (who was sipping coffee, spits out in laughter): "Those are the latrines, My Old Friend." And they laugh and touch as the powwow begins; spotlight fading into black. --finis !! OFFER !!: Would you like the same sort of product placement for your business, as Jack-in-the-Box? I will advertise your product or service somewhere in my story, newsgroup article or mailing list; where it is guaranteed to attract every reader's attention, or your money back. (The soul part, I keep.) Please note an extra surcharge for product placement in my articles to Gaynet. You know whom to contact, if interested. ======================================================== ADDENDUM Here is one lone netizen's response to my posting of this Grandfather tale, to pagan/shaman newsgroups: ---begin response: Subject: Re: Grandfather & Grandson (a parable) Newsgroups: alt.religion.shamanism, alt.religion.wicca, alt.religion.druid, alt.pagan >redsonja@liii.com (She Devil With A Rubber Chicken) wrote in >message news:<b6uh5e$b86$1@eri0.s8.isp.nyc.eggn.net>... >> In article <d46ddbb9.0304072312.be9f01b@posting.google.com>, >>Ezekiel J. Krahlin <zekeolicious@chiefthracian.mailshell.com> >>wrote: > >GRANDFATHER & GRANDSON > >(a parable for the 21st century) > > >> It's difficult to have grandsons without women. >> >> Hope this helps. ;-7 >-- > "Good steel wins good steel; is the Second of testings > Who would win My true daughter is a keeper of Troths." > -- The Song of Finder Why, yo' sho' do be a GREAT he'p, yes m'am! Why, it show how IGNORANT ye be...and this, coming out of a non-traditional spiritual group. You conveniently IGNORE the myriad accounts of this or that god or goddess giving birth to a new being (including humans and human-type gods), by their own particular magic, with NARY ONE SMIDGEON of assistance by ANYONE of the opposite gender. The Catholic's concept of THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION was lifted right up out of Classic Greek Folklore and Myth! I know that ALL ancient religions, cultures, traditions, cabals and secret organizations have a brilliant thread of queer achievements scattered throughout their histories, mythologies and religions, on and off again in waves. And whenever the wave was "on", a tremendous welling-up of positive creative forces are ALWAYS triggered by queer rebellion against the hetero-dogma masses. But when the wave is "off", most evidence of homosexual contributions, heroism, suffering, etc. are either burned up, swept up, or buried/hidden/secreted in some other fashion as yet unknown. This causes a strong tendency by those "gay friendly" hetero pagans to trivialize any gay contributions, by at best including one or two pro-queer tales in your coven. And it is thus all too easy to feign genuine ignorance over any more queer pagan history because, gee, where's the book? Well, if you don't go out of your way to get such info--as we gays must do all the time--and you don't go out of your way to include any gay ACTIVIST friends...then you "liberal" heteros surely do remain sublimely blithe over sexual minority issues, no matter how serious and urgent. Somehow, you breeder thugs will come up with a way to conveiently, guiltlessly turn your face the other way, when Dubya's street thugs drag us queers from our homes, offices, bars and clubs, and round us up for the death camps in Nevada's sere desert. So I leave it to our Proud Queer Pagan Family to remove the veils that still cling to Our Secret History...which soon shall be no secret forever more! How steeped in ignorance have our hetero folk become...ruling ARROGANCE over another, merely because one can BREED WITH NO THOUGHT OF THE CONSEQUENCES, and the other can not. Yes, YOU, a PAGAN, would follow in the very footsteps of CHRISTIAN FUNDAMENTALISTS when it comes to homosexuals, WOULDN'T YA? Yeah, yeah, "clean enviroment", "children's rights", "animal rights", "veganism", "no nukes"...all good and worthy ideals, I do agree. But it all comes with the UNSPOKEN assertion that we ALL want these things, but for one: NO FAGGOTS IN OUR NEW WORLD! Else, why don't we hear you non-Christian pagans crying out against this anti-queer holocaust taking off? I myself am pagan, and ASHAMED at all the homophobic jism being spewed here, in alternative, "pagan" or "shaman" groups. What gays continue to put faith in either TRADITIONAL or ALTERNATIVE belief systems, are utter MORONS. We really have no friends in the straight world...way too few to be worth consideration. Most of you pagans are in DENIAL of any kind of homophobia going on in pagan/shaman groups! And it's a SMUG denial at that...as if this weren't an INTENTIONAL game of deceit you play on my gay brothers, because AND ONLY BECAUSE the Beast defends you from any sort of retribution. Whereas in fact, most of your mainstream Pagan groups are INTIMATELY BOUND with Xian Fundies, in their war to persecute, terrorize, maim and murder any and all QueerFolk. But your time is running out, your last cards are about to be played. There are VERY FEW good Pagans, and VERY FEW good Christians as well. Same for the Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Daoists, Native Amerikans, and yes, even Atheists. A quick way to select what few may remain as real friends you can truly trust: If they are the least bit hesitant of supporting gay rights on any level of common sense and decency (including, and maybe even especially, "marriage"): WATCH OUT, THEY'RE BAD MOJO!!! P.S.: And just how many BILLIONS OF YEARS has the Universe existed, before it tossed heterosexuality into the mix? Which sexual inclination, I might add, is very rapidly due to go the same route as the dinosaur, the dodo bird, and dubya. We can (and will) get along without you het'ro'set-choolz...as the Divine Mind will ALWAYS offer us GoodQueerFolk life, love, liberty and happiness, with or without the unseemly existence of breeders. =============== >redsonja@liii.com (She Devil With A Rubber Chicken) wrote in >message news:<b6uh5e$b86$1@eri0.s8.isp.nyc.eggn.net>... >> In article <d46ddbb9.0304072312.be9f01b@posting.google.com>, >>Ezekiel J. Krahlin <zekeolicious@chiefthracian.mailshell.com> >>wrote: > >GRANDFATHER & GRANDSON > >(a parable for the 21st century) > > >> It's difficult to have grandsons without women. In addition, how ESPECIALLY ARROGANT you are, by not simply enjoying this tale of a get-together between two males...in this case, grandfather and grandson? Oh, are you really so bothered that this particular story did not contain at least the IMPLICATION of this or that vagina shoved into readers' minds? Is it really so righteous of you--oh god-favored heterosexual--to always spring a VAGINA into every dialogue that seems to be without some sort of c*nt-juice smell marking its territory? Ah, yes, ye Pagan Hag; even your farts betray you. You clothing may be Celtic, but your soul remains just what it's always been: a puppet for the Religious Reich. You are an INFILTRATOR of our Pagan world...as are a considerable number of participants herein. Well, I just blew the whistle on you all! You're a bunch of PHONY KKKRISTIANS SABOTAGING PAGAN & SHAMAN NEWSGROUPS, USING ANTI-GAY ATTITUDES TO DESTROY OUR SMALL CLOSELY KNIT BUT POOR, NETWORKS. (Either that, or you really ARE a self-proclaimed pagan who harbors the worst anti-gay attitudes comparable only to Muslims and Christian fanatics. And for that, you are STILL the enemy of Pagan Truth.) ---end of response

AUTHENTIC TRANSCRIPTION OF A LOVE LETTER FROM JESUS TO HIS DADDY AS REVEALED BY THE GOSSIPY LUCIFER TO THIS ASTOUNDED AUTHOR -or- AGFACHROME (c) 1998 by Ezekiel J. Krahlin (Jehovah's Queer Witness) hello again angel randolph what you really sent me when you mailed that photograph was your big bright beautiful smile and when I saw that gorgeous grin like the brilliance of the rising sun the ice age ended for me i'm a little old-fashioned never bother to cook my mastodon in a microwave or even shake n bake it for that matter and the eternal spring cast its first rays of golden light on my heart the little buddie that has stood beside you for so long now opens his first petals to the radiance of your soul just watch me grow and change into your boy of sweet innocence you are truly a man to admire as the flowers turn their faces to the sun i turn my heart to you and our arms embrace each other across this great continent can't wait to explore your continental divide what great fun it is to shoot our wads at each other across three thousand miles my cup runneth over with the nectar of your masculine seed don't stop now babe cause i'm ridin' my big bronco in the sky i weep tears of joy across your broad shoulders and the great rains fall upon the world even daddies need daddies so i service you with a lube job change of oil and pump you full of high octane premium like the hot stud that i am cum to me for service and you'll always get a lot of freebies and "bonerses" my supply is stocked for eternity and i'd rather give it away to a loyal comrade than let it build up or sell it for dirt love me randolph as no one ever has loved me before love me for the child that i am so wondrously wrought by gods loving hands according to the blueprints of your dreams know that i am still a virgin like mom an embarrassing confession though zeus will do anything for a thunderous laugh is it my fault that i'm the butt of his jokes though the butt of his dreams as well? love me randolph for i see the world through innocent eyes and can never understand man's unkindness even satan is my good buddie for i cannot conceive of a god that does not love every single one of his creations i believe we are all given the keys to the gate some sooner some later and since the first shall be last and the last shall be first it seems that lucifer should be the first lucifer myself your first begat radiant angel of light sacrificed as the supreme test for the endurance of our souls which you have so incredibly wrought o blacksmith of olympia the scent of the flower of my soul is for your olfactory nerves only and as i open to you my star the jet stream of angels shall waft my pollen over lovely amish country and reach that adorable sexy nose of yours and when it hits will it hit you think i'm acting silly and foolish now this is gonna be lots of fun to see you grow into god himself through my eyes only and you yearn so bad to be with me that you'll break loose from your cast lo and behold thou art healed this very moment and take the first jet you can to san francisco you will become a puppy in my hands for you already are this in my heart as i surely am to you i'll have no less than your absolute trust for you now know beyond a shadow's doubt that you can really trust me with all your heart and what a sterling heart you have my silver maned stallion how lovely you look in that picture your hair is becoming a crown of pure silver what a man what a father would that if you feel like delighting the heart of your little pony you send a lock of your hair that i may carry it close to my heart in a locket at all times until the day i am finally in your cool strong arms it would well ease my pain for lack of thou and is a most romantic old-fashioned custom of true love and friendship oh but i shall sleep eternally should you spurn my soul's call to his mate i sing for thou and only thou my dearest little chipmunk my light of salvation my knight in shining armor my fountain of joy my father builder of dreams is there not a single dream of mine that you won't fulfill? architect of the universe that i am i nevertheless beg of you not to overestimate my skills for i am still an apprentice thou dost honor me greatly beyond any dream i ever had i know full well but i beseech thee to take a day off and get some rest good man besides i have been left alone to guard your house while you've been slaving away all day at the factory and a lonely heart is not what you want for me i've only been trying to get that through your lovely preoccupied head now randolph you do understand my situation i am very certain the hour is now and the time is short and i need to be in your arms before the curtain falls on this first act there is infinite strength confidence and joy from two comrades in love fighting armageddon at each other's side your heel has been healed with a more durable steel achilles hasten to my side on winged feet mercury o belerephon the first horse of the apocalypse let me mount you so we can lead the armies to the battlefield rear your head with pride sexy steed as we forge through the dark flanks of satan's cohorts counting a victory for each head we anoint and all shall be anointed our love is the victory celebrate now for the weapons we bear are arms of joy arms of devotion arms of humor arms of flowers arms of smiles and armfuls and armfuls of boys and they are all invincible and best of all i get to lick the good humor man's humongous popsicle as long as my little heart so desires and he always keeps a full supply in the freezer so i can thaw them out with my tongue and roll the vanilla ice cream in my mouth before gulping it down dad thou art my sundae special drive up in a truck cause it rhymes with fuck drop your change belt and shove that pink hard treat where it tastes most sweet then let me daddy daddy let me do you any way i please the only popsicle for which i yearn is yours daddy all the others smell so bad i can't even get near them let me tear off your shirt and rest my head on your manly chest as i reach through your fly to find something big to suck on and let me slide those spotless white pants over your muscular legs which you raise in the air to ease me on home please daddy please let me do even more let me make your big nest slippery with my saliva your buoyant eggs shall ride the waves of ecstasy let me taste the sweetness of your crown and the first dew that drops on my lips let me pierce your tight sphincter with the dart of my slippery tongue and let me raise your legs so that i can pierce even deeper my hot breath smothering your fiery balls your cock so stiff it feels like it's going to burst from your skin what bursts instead is a fountain of ice cream for we are in candyland and daddy don't stop cumming ever i am your only child your boy who shall always thirst for your manhood without satiation squirt yourself all over me and glide your rough hands over my face my shoulders my chest my back my belly my waist my hips my ass do this for me and my thighs will quiver to be open to yet always resist the plunge of your finger reaching for the button that ejaculates me into whatever opening you put before me i will always cum every moment we touch so you'll have to spend several delightful more minutes to sweeten me for the true coupling the moment i start rubbing my nest into yours i'll explode all over you and you'll have to tie me down in order to get me through the gate but then i'll really buck and you'll have to grab onto my horn to keep me down and please daddy wrap your strong arms and legs around me to keep me down deep deep inside you for when i finally emerge you will jerk in spasms of cum as i yank it out and plunge it in many times i will do it slow and do it fast i will do it smooth and do it hard but i will always do it good and do it so sweet your tongue will hang from your mouth yearning to wrap it around my fat joystick even though you can't because st. peter is busy shoving you through the pearly gates entering heaven is like passing through the eye of the sphincter sudden you relax drop your heavy-muscled calves onto my back and i slide the last three inches into you easily easily safely locked in heaven's mansion we moan our eternal comradeship to each other as my river of love flows smoothly through the gates into the land of milk and honey my darling father i want to bring you so much joy i ache with need for you the joy you already bring to me though three thousand miles away is already far beyond what even i your very talented son could begin to describe my talents spring from the loins of inspiration thou art that fountain from which i drink oh, i shiver to even think of your loving caresses on my trembling flank this little pony is so incredibly blessed to rest his muzzle on the powerful legs of his silver stallion stud randolph goodest and bestest friend for all time i feel like i am your doctor who delivers you only i am easing your rebirth into your soul's next level heaven god has given me the incredible honor to be your midhusband to make your new birth painless as possible and to stand guard to spank you should you have difficulty with your first breath you are in confident hands my son this is my specialty i have already delivered you without so much as a painful twinge of response so that you didn't even realize you were birthing now look around you randolph after reading this letter and see for yourself that it is a different and better world out there then come to my side for i have worked round-the-clock for many days in order to be sure of a perfect birth for my love and i shall collapse in your arms with complete confidence that as my doctor now you will ease my own birth into heaven and into your heart ---finis

I ONLY WANT TO ************* AS MANY PEOPLE AS I CAN August 21, 2007 I just read a news article on the Internet, entitled: "Drug Research Causes Tragic Death". (Washington Post; August 5, 2007.) So now I've decided to broadcast my own comments re. this tragic matter, through my very own Efficiently Automated Many-Years Gay Activist Filter. Here ya go: Well, they were so successful with AIDS, why shouldn't human experimentation expand? After all: such an EXCESS of people, and so much NEED for science. Uncle Sam sees queers as nothing more than fodder for medical experimentation...thanks to the overwhelming homophobia STILL so ubiquitous in our pathetic society, including among our most "liberal" and "progressive" groups. They like to pat us on the back, make us THINK they're doing SO MUCH MORE for gay rights than ever before...and we have truly GOOD friends in them now, in these enlightened days. DON'T FALL FOR IT! Beware of The Crocodile's Smile. For the REAL TRUTH about many of them, is this: They are SOCIAL ENGINEERING BROWN SHIRTS. WAKE UP PEOPLES! More and more experiments are being done on OTHER minorities, and women. Game over wo/man! Either take up your mantle of the Golden Rule, or be gone. And it STARTS with treating gay people with RESPECT. ALL the goodness and badness that has been generated by the human race, is now amassing into one giant orb of karma...the Big Payback has begun! Homo sapiens is about to take a huge, evolutionary leap...but not without first CLEANSING its sins of history. The TRUE BLOODLINE is more likely found in the gutters of Paris, than within any HUMAN flesh. Among many other good things, this suggests (very STRONGLY, I might add) the utter LIBERATION of sexual minorities. ALSO suggested, is that any minority--no matter how long suffering--will NEVER gain liberation, until they finally BEGIN to respect their own queer siblings. They should therefore EXPECT to be simple lab rats for the advancement of eugenics and vivisection, on behalf of The Neonazi Overlords & White Aryan Confederations. Until they learn to respect their gay brothers/sisters, they shall never be far from The Furor's scalpel. (You can even be black as The Ace's Spade...still, NO EXCEPTIONS!) It has often been denied even within gay newsgroups, that homosexuals were actually the FIRST group to be targeted by the Original Nazis. While I suffered this ignorance for some years, I knew I'd eventually be vindicated. Access to the truth of this matter, lay buried in centuries of anti-gay repression...so I therefore lay helpless, bleeding on the battlefield, since no library or similar outlet possessed evidential records. Fortunately, since those dark years of my life, evidence has begun to emerge from obscure, forgotten records...records usually discovered among the inherited droppings of a recently deceased Gestapo party member. It is now considered common knowledge (at least, among the educated), that gays were first targeted, because of their new vulnerability (visibility): they had become the weakest plank of the Weimar Republic's foundation. Gays were the jugular to the Nazi wolf. The Nazi Party's first mission was to denounce the Weimar Rule as a poison to Germany's Aryan R oots, due to their blasphemous support of homosexuals. Goddess will soon STOP this mass/global experimentation/torture upon gays that first began with dissemination of HIV via the Hepatitis B testing way back in the late 70's. But it will be stopped in such a way that all EVIDENCE will be secure, to PROVE the wicked intent of gov't, industry, the military, churches/temples/mosques, etc. Those who declare that gays deserve their outcome as subhuman guinea pigs since homosexuality is the Ultimate Perversion & Crime (more, much more, than even raping a woman or little girl, then bludgeoning her to death after a prolonged scene of horror)...will simply disappear. I don't know HOW they will be disappeared by Goddess. Perhaps in a sort of Satanic Rapture? Just kiddin'. :b Maybe they'll remain alive, but just kept from doing harm. But what good would that do? Would you even want one to wipe your ass? Would they actually serve some purpose, no matter how trivial? Ahhh, questions only eternity will answer...and surely not this humble servant of Lucifer. Sinqueerly, Ezekiel J. Krahlin The Little Queer Vegan Vampire PS: Godwin's Law be damned! ---finis

GAY ACTIVISM HAS REALLY TURNED QUEER From: Foster Boodlewite (Thought Editor), Mendocino Mosquito To: My Loyal Readers who are also Loyal Patriots Subject: Gay Activism Has Really Turned Queer I thought the good folks of these gay and activist news groups would enjoy my interjecting my very exasperated feelings about Ezekiel Krahlin's dangerous intrusion into national politics...due to the absurd ruckus he is able to stir up by his uncanny ability to manipulate the English language. And apparently, that's the only gift he has. He's a one-trick pony. Nonetheless, if this lunatic charms too many people he can wind up being a dangerous marriage of Svengali and Hitler! (And I'm sure you people didn't have THAT in mind, when you cooked up "domestic partnership" laws.) If child-guard Internet programs could only do one thing...I'd want more than anything else, for them to block Mr. Krahlin's site from ever seeing the light of day in the presence of an innocent child's eyes. All of whom we know would grow up STRAIGHT as an arrow if subversive geeks like "Zeekers" wouldn't amuse themselves by thinking the world is their plaything, and that terrorizing people is a fun way of winning a point. And it is one reader's desperate appeal (posted below) for a massive overhaul of the Internet anti-pornography laws, that opened my eyes to this menace who claims copyright over The Final Testament, which he believes usurps the previous two Testaments! (Besides, I thought the Final Testament's sources were almost as quizzical as the other two. Who REALLY wrote it remains forever shrouded in the misty past of a few nanoseconds ago, so it's too late to do anything about it.) I think we need to start teaching again, in the classrooms of every fifth grader across this Great Nation, the dangers of people like Ezekiel, Socrates, Jesus, Buddha, and Rodney Dangerfield. See what happens when you pervert the definition of free speech to accommodate limousine-liberal bleeding hearts, by embracing "Gaybonics" under the Free-Speech umbrella: ---begin letter: From: Irate Citizen To: The Mendocino Mosquito Subject: Ezekiel Krahlin (militant sodomite a.k.a. "Jehovah's Queer Witness") Dear Editor of the Mendo Mosquito, I recently logged onto an, ahem, interesting (so to speak) web site, "gay-bible.org", run by some harmless lunatic who makes a whopping big deal that he is gay, only because an unabashedly glamorous Marine once paid him some attention for a short, short while. Well, his heterophobic ranting scrolls are funny I must admit, but I'm afraid we're all laughing AT you, Ezekiel, not WITH you. But one particular rant you unraveled across my monitor really made me wake up and smell the ersatz: "Learn How You Can Prepare For The Global Civil War, Yet Still Manage To Show Up Fashionably Late!" I hope after reading my outraged letter, you will seriously consider removing that one especially hurtful screed, when there is so much you could gain by that simple self-censorship. And please: we've all suffered more than enough "slippery-slope" maniac posturing idiot conspiracy theorists--including gay gadflies like Tom Keske--to last us all many, many lifetimes. Well, Ezekiel, you may have intended your smug know-it-all hybrid hippie/queer title to be a facetious comment undesirous of an answer...so sure are you of your Righteous Gay Benevolence. But, Ezekiel, I DO have an answer, even if you DON'T want to hear it. And I am going to SHOUT that answer from every rooftop of my loyal America (or as you so treasonously enjoy calling God's Country "Amerika"!) Through the telegraph, the telephone, the newspaper, and the new-fangled radio...I will SHOUT that answer over and over again, until it permeates even THAT thick skull of yours. So Mr. Krahlin, here is my answer to your snide challenge, and a very terse answer at that: "Get shot for treason." A Patriot of Texas, Arnold B. Gassman Professional Taxidermist Xsellentay "Stuffing and preserving illegal Mexican immigrants is our business --our only business." ---end of letter --- Zeke for Gay President, 2008: http://www.gay-bible.org

LARKIN: A HIDDEN TREASURE March 31, 2006 Though a self-made gay activist, I rarely visit our bars. That's because I'm a (batik) dyed-in-the-wool left-wing counterculture pothead hippie-dippie non-alcohol/non-hard drug wholesome left-wing radical street-wise pagan and anthropo-politico-faggot. And as all my readers surely know by now, we lefties are an endangered species in all minorities of any stripe! In fact we've been mostly gutted out except for a few tough stragglers like myself, bravely carrying a sputtering torch that is the Spirit of the Sixties...particularly, the LGBTQ Spirit born thereof. But see how crippled and dysfunctional our beloved community has become, by taking this rude swing to the Right? Now, all you losers come whimpering back home to us loyal commies, begging forgiveness and your return to a warm hearth and loving souls. But every several years or so, I go into my "bar cycle"...this time, South of Market's "Hole in the Wall" on Eighth Street near Folsom. Expecting--as usual--to sit alone in my daydreams, enjoying the (non-disco/non-hiphop) brilliant collections of authentic rock in its various genres. Plus the occasional operetta. (By the way, I don't drink alcohol much, so I usually nurse a cup of coffee...really, just an excuse to hang out. I am 95% teatotaler.) I had visited this bar in a previous cycle two years ago, and found it pleasant enough. But, this time around, I'm like: WHOAAAAA! So I fall in love with this hot item called "Larkin", who is 41 but looks 28: very tall (maybe 6-1/2?) lanky darkly-red haired, handsome rogue of an Irishman. He's the star of the place, and I sure can see why! (What's gotten into me?) Larkin plays a hot game of pool (and those sexy moves that bring on the drool), and puts so many smiles on so many faces of our older gay brothers, most of whom suffer AIDS or equally immune-damaging ailments. He is so funny, so witty, makes so many folks laugh their arses off...I am literally stunned at this remarkable youthful man: a REAL "man" in every best possible sense of that word! He has such a compassionate and humorous outreach to so many! These men who are dealing with nerve-wracking life and death issues every single day, day in and day out, nonetheless look forward to another day of life because of: Larkin. His loving friendship to me in the few weeks I've been there can only be compared to a Knight in Shining Armor. He has so many wonderful gay souls under his wing, that I can't believe he had the time and energy to also shelter me...who is blessed to be free of AIDS, cancer, or anything else. I am 55 and in excellent health, still (despite my loss of medical and dental insurance), thanks to the pagan wisdom I've acquired in regards to self-healing and prevention. (And never messing with hard drugs or too much alcohol.) Larkin is a great party mixer! He is very sociable with everyone, young and old, male and female (and in between), and is also a most excellent bouncer when need be. Yet he does this of his own devotion, his own will, and lives in a humble room paid by a humble job in the tacqueria next door. What's wrong with this picture? Well, Larkin is so funny and such a great all-around guy, he could be very well paid at gay events and parties. Or how about hiring him to bring happiness to AIDS and other patients suffering deadly diseases? He'd also make a most excellent big brother for troubled young adults. This man is so talented, I can't believe Hole in the Wall has been able to keep him secret for so long. Here, I thought I was San Francisco's Best Kept Secret (since I am after all, "Jehovah's Queer Witness")...but I must pass on that crown to this most outstanding and gracious gay man among all gay men: Larkin. I think--now that I've let the cat out of the bag--the only way the bar owner can keep Larkin from being whisked off by a talent scout, thus losing more than eighty percent of his customers resulting in the bar's shutting down after all these years: The owner should put him on the payroll, with a living (not minimum) wage, complete with quality health and dental insurance. For this bodacious dude of dudes, Larkin, has been entertaining for free, for years, at Hole in the Wall...and he remains the main draw for anyone to hang out there! In spite of all the excellent bartenders who already work there. I think it is selfish of our affluent patrons to not already have arranged for Larkin to be a professional party mixer at least several times a month! They want to keep him all for themselves, like a bird in a gilded cage...but instead of a bird, it's Larkin (a human being), and instead of a cage, it's the Hole in the Wall (a gay biker bar)! I found a most wonderful treasure for our community, in Larkin. He has done--and continues to do--so much good for so many with AIDS and other difficult issues (including those restful breaks of sanity in these virulently homophobic times). It is my wish that our Queer Family give due recognition and honors to this incredible, unsung hero. As a spiritual counselor for my gay buddies on the streets, I have learned a thing or two about identifying a true hero. And Larkin is outstanding in that department, as well as in every other! At fifty-five, I guess I ought to consider myself yet one more aging queer who's found shelter and warmth under Larkin's great wings. Thank you Larkin, for being the magnanimous guardian angel that you are, for so many! You have brought incredible happiness to my own heart, for the good man you are. Watching you work a room is pure magic! Coffee and Larkin: it doesn't get any better than this. Thanks, wonderful buddy! Most sincerely, Ezekiel Joseph Krahlin (San Francisco) President and Founder of the Larkin Fan Club --finis

YES, VIRGINIA, SANTA CLAUS IS GAY Eight-year-old Virginia O'Handjob wrote a letter to the editor of New York's world class and multiple-award winning gay periodical, Kum Daily Report, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1987. The work of veteran newsman Francis Phallus Church has since become LGBT history's most ejaculatory newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in plain brown paper wrapped books, blue movies, and other racy editorials, and on gay bathhouse posters and Queer Nation flyers. ------------------------------------- "DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old with two lesbian Moms. "Some of my little friends say that Santa Claus can't be gay, because he's married to a woman. "Papa says, 'If you see it in the Kum it's so.' "Please tell me the truth; is Santa Claus a closet case? "VIRGINIA O'HANDJOB. "115 WEST SIXTY-NINTH STREET." Virginia, your little breeder-robot friends are wrong. They have been afflicted by the homophobia of a heterosexist age. They do not boink except [what] they are permitted to boink. They think that nothing can be poked or made erect which is not sanctioned by our breeder overlords. All penises, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little when compared to a Belgian workhorse. In this great universe of ours Closeted Gay Everyman is a mere fudge packing factory, an anal retentive party pooper, in his obeisance towards the hetero overlords' Calvinistic ideology, as compared with the boundless and freely available super-size joysticks about him (telescoping rod from 7 to 14 inches; comes in thick, extra thick and bodaciously thick widths that would make even a full grown man 8 feet tall feel proud as a bantam cock celebrating the dawn), as measured by the guiltless hand capable of grasping the whole shaft of jism-gushing orgasm. Yes, Virginia, there is a Gay Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as boners and spermolocity and the prostate gland exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest booty and boy butt. Alas! how unlavenderish would be the world if there were no Gay Santa Claus. It would be as unlavenderish as if there were no Virginias. There would be no unzipperlike faith then, no buggery, no blowjobs to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in men and slobbering over their hefty Levi jeans pocket bulge (suspicious perhaps, that it's really just a cucumber and two billiard balls after all). The eternal light with which childhood fills the anus would be goosed. Not believe in Poofy Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in not-so-radical-but-still-somewhat-to-the-left-of-moderate fairies! You might get your lesbian papa to hire Stop AIDS Now volunteers to spy on all the horniest male prostitute hangouts on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus drop his baggy red pants and beg to be violated, what would that prove? Nobody pees on Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Gay Santa Claus...just no Gay Water Sport Santa Claus. The most rod-engorging things in the world are those that give us children and fresh horny boys to plow. Did you ever see fairies dicking on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not queer. No hetero man can conceive without imagining he's actually goosing Jesus while shagging the wife. You may tear apart my baby's dildo and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a condom covering the unseen head which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could lick apart with their manly rough tongues. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, bromance, can push aside that sphincter and slurp and pierce the supernal dude-crotch and glory hole beyond. Is it all man-cock? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding, than a hot man's relatively hairless bung hole...shaving is a plus. No Gay Santa Claus! Thank Nyarlathotep! he boinks, and he boinks four men all together. A thousand cum shots from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand cum shots from now, he will continue to make glad the raging hard-on heart of gay childhood. --finis

OH TREMBLE AMERIKA Oh tremble Amerika, you land of Moloch, for you have greatly broken my covenant: that you should speak for The Angel of Democracy to every corner of the world. What have you done, Amerika, spreading fear of your own self (instead of love for freedom) to every nation, to every person; yeah, even unto your own citizens, that they tremble so before you, Oh Hand of Satanic Ruin? Who are you, Amerika, that you should take ten percent of your children, (who you call "homosexual" but I call "Hellene") and teach them terror unending from day to day, and year to year, right unto their very own death? What wickedness is this, Amerika, that you take the very Word of God and blaspheme it to preach the killing and misery of a good number of your brave children (Hellenes) whose only sin is brotherly and sisterly love? (Were you to sin in such a seemly manner, you'd all know heaven by now!) Amerika, you are NO LONGER God's country, for you have broken your covenant with me, in a most grevious manner. You have invented A NEW ARROGANCE which hubris even I have never seen, nor Lucifer ever conceived; in such unbridled malice of your own loyal Hellenic citizens, WHO ARE ALSO MY ANGELS! Oh, Amerika, tremble now, for the hour has arrived: for amber waves of grain to wither under a Great Drought, for purple mountain majesty to shower pestilence upon the fruited plain, and for fiery whirlwinds to level your great cities that lay parched of spirit and void of compassion. My hetero Amerikans: return to your homes, complacent in your gender supremacy, believing that you are righteous in your condemnation of homosexuals, or in your tolerating these citizens (as long as they don't demand equal treatment under your laws). Amerika-Moloch, you ARE hypocrite unlike any other under the sun, and your time in this age has come to a close. You have sealed your own fate: of a terrible Civil War of many deaths and unholy destruction. Vermont shall go insane with rabid homophobia and rape herself into many pieces; while Florida burns from political fires, and sinks into the Atlantic, her great smoky plume turning all of Mexico into midnight for eleven dark months. And all lands in between and west of these two raging states, shall likewise be consumed by plagues and madness of myriad types. The Great Mississippi shall overflow with the blood of you hypocrites, drowning many in your sleep; and your towns shall stink of your children's putrifying flesh. For I have summoned my Angel who long ago freed the Hebrews from Egyptian bondage, to now unshackle all same-sex lovers from your diabolical chains. For them, I shall keep the region known as Northern California, as a safe refuge... casting out all who maintain homophobic ideas, no matter how slight. This includes many churches of the Christian realm. And this region I shall name "Athenia", to separate her from the punishment I shall mete out to the remainder of land known (for a while longer) as Amerika. ---finis

MESSAGE TO A LONG LOST FRIEND 13 December 2011 My dear, handsome Witt: Writing this letter today, to prove to you that I strongly sensed your wonderful return in my life was imminent. I've since printed it out, and kept it secure in a pocket, that I may hand it to you immediately upon our resurrected friendship, wherever and whenever that may be. Another way to say this is: "My angels told me to prepare for your return...and it will only be a few weeks at the most." This makes me very happy. Regardless of the ups and downs of our association, I have always admired and appreciated your friendship, as well as your survival skills living on four wheels, scavenging discarded furniture and other valuable detritus for resale at flea markets, and conjuring up delicious victuals out of dumpsters and trash cans. Those founders of the "Freegan Movement" have nothing on you! (In fact, I'm sure you could provide them with many useful tips! Glad you've finally found your own disciples, hey little grasshopper? You will be as God to them! You'll have 'em eatin' right outta your "Witt's Outrageous 3 meats/3 Cheeses Mulligan Extra Special Gourmet Stew" hands! Surprise 'em with your utterly delectable vegan version. They'll never know what hit their tongues, nor ever eat real flesh again.) I especially appreciate how difficult it is in your wanderlust existence--keeping afloat by cunning alone--to accommodate me (or anyone) as your guest, in a renovated bread truck that is your home. I understand that many years back, you had asked a certain person on the street named Brian (about 6 feet tall, dishwater blonde straight hair, rather ordinary but wide bovine face), if I was still living at 2306 Market. He said to you, "No, he's not." Brian's an idiot, not a real friend...he only knows me a bit from our occasional encounters in the Castro. I never liked him, and am sorry that he misled you. To his credit however, he did approach me about six years ago, and told me you asked about my whereabouts. Brian said he told you that I was no longer living there ('cause he couldn't really believe I was, after all those years). He apologized for the misinformation...for the truth is, yes, I still live in that rotten little room in which we shared some rather hellacious good times. As I said, Brian is an idiot. He is a pathetic pinhead who hails from Utah, and decided one day to leave Ogden and never look back (or he'd turn into a pillar of Salt Lake City. He's still here in SF by the way, looking old and haggard; I wish he'd move back to Moron Land. Get it? "Moron, Mormon". Ha-ha. How about Morton's Salt Mines? Ha-ha to the "nth" power.Take my wife...please!) In other words, he's just a stupid sheeple whom you really should never have relied on, for any information about myself. Be that as it may, our time apart--though many years at this point (since 1989 I think)--has only made me appreciate you more, with time's slow passage. We are friends, Witt, real friends. And I'm sorry if any of my own insecurities and neuroses made you hesitate to explore our friendship further, and caused you to be overly careful in continuing what to me, has always been a marvelous adventure. I realize how difficult it is living out of a truck, and coming to SF to hang with me...considering how Fascist this city has become, and outright hostile to free spirits like yourself, who prefer not to be tied down to renting a unit and becoming frozen for years--perhaps the rest of your lifetime--in the same tiny habitat. I respect and admire your sense of adventure and freedom on the open road. Though I know such a lifestyle is not without hardship, considering how screwed up America has become, in regards to any citizen who chooses to live an alternative lifestyle. (Ironic, eh, considering the 60?s and all that.) This letter is dragging out, please bear with me, as my angels guide me in how to tell you with what great import and joy i regard your friendship. I have missed you very much, and thought of you every few months or so, with great concern and wishes for your happiness, and hopefully even resuming our friendship where it becomes so much more fun and loving than it's ever been. Several years back, I even rode my bike out by the Berkeley Marina, stopping on the way by that roadside bistro where you once parked in the adjoining lot, to celebrate an evening under the stars, by the sand dunes...all three of us. But there was no Witt, no sand dunes any more, and no starry sky. (Yes, sometimes your spirit does call to me, and I know it's real. And you're calling to me once more, and thus, this letter.) FYI, one of the really neat things about you, is you never mess with drugs or alcohol. (Sure wish you'd smoke some killer ganja with me now and then, though!) And your fantastic little dog Wiley...the dingo of bountiful joy and affection named after a Looney Tunes character. It must've been one of the worst days in your life, when you lost your quadrupedal buddie to K-9 Heaven. But I'm sure his ebullient little spirit is with you once more, in the vessel of another frisky pup. Excuse me for being so forward, but I am now 61 years old, which affords me little time for shy innuendos. I love you (and always have; you're quite the hot dude), and find you to be a most gorgeous and sexy man, with an incredible sense of adventure and "bromance". I would be terribly happy just to resume our friendship without anything "risque" going on. But just in case, I figured it would be wise at this point in our lives, to break the ice. I just wish my room were all fixed up real nice and cozy for your return. But alas, it's still rather a mess since my breakup with another sweet friend, Johnny S., three years ago due to his heroine addiction and father's sudden death. I don't know, but I must be the King of Bromance, the list goes on and on and on! I have spent many lonely years since you disappeared from my life. My old friend John H. moved to Philadelphia in 1996, and my on-and-off "friend" Michael Carl B. died last year in October. (And good riddance to that, I say; he was a nasty old man that hated the devil out of you, and interfered in my life constantly, in most hostile ways.) I do not deserve this, but I must accept that this is my particular path that our creator has chosen, to shape my soul into the best possible person I could be. Nonetheless, I've missed you terribly. The fact of your return only gives me cause for celebration. For it could never have happened if the angels did not see fit to bring us back together. I certainly do not claim to understand the mysteries behind this, but I do have some comprehension of the ways of the Great Spirit. Now, we are back together again after so many difficult and lonely years. I only ask that you put enough faith in our friendship, to never fear that I would ever want you out of my life. I am sorry that you had doubts about this. I am sorry that dipwad Brian misled you. I also realize that my remaining in the same building as your friend Maxie (and on the same floor, where we even shared a bathroom), may be difficult for you, considering he died from a heroine overdose way, way back in 1987 or so; I really can't recall the exact year. Unbelievable to realize that (since Mr. Betza's most welcome death) I am now the longest-term resident of 2306 (I really don't want to die here, and become yet one more ghost of Dolores Street Apartments...not when three of the most disgusting people I've ever met, also died here, and made my life miserable for a time!) But I am so happy to realize now that you are my hero and good friend, and will rescue me from such a sad demise. I am more than ready to pack up my few belongings (that would be my netbook, extension cord and a backpack...whenever we pop into a wifi coffeehouse I'll download some great movies and TV shows we can watch later while holed up in your van overnight), and join you on the Road to Great Adventures. Or, if you'd like, we can keep my room as a convenient rest stop between breaks from our silly highway escapades. Wash the dust off, kick back and enjoy the few good things this cheapskate, backwater, skanky little burg has to offer. (Okay, pardner? Another way to go with this, is to surrender my SRO, thereby freeing up an extra $310 that might be better spent, perhaps on truck maintenance, or doggie care.) There number about eight fantastically gorgeous and wonderful men I have had the great honor to know over many years (starting in 1969 where I met my first true love Robert Matthew Childers in Columbia, Missouri), share some great times (and fall in love) with, and wished for something more permanent than a few years' togetherness, then *poof* they're gone forever, like it was all just a fantastic dream. You are definitely one of these excellent men. I even wrote an Ice Age Bromance about us, called "Dream on: Encounter with a Neanderthal". You are also the cop-centurion "DeWitt" in my testosterone inspired homo sci-fi tale, "The Mask of Horus". Who knows? You might even be the "Pa" in my animated decal "Padonna & Child". If so, it was subliminally inspired. But now that I think about it, Pa does look suspiciously like you, in that he likewise has your bulky, broad-shouldered stature (though you're certainly not hairy or bald like this Pa, but I suspect you want to be incognito in the animated gif, perhaps to surprise me years later, such as this very moment). I love you Witt, and am so incredibly happy to see you again. Let's kick some ass and have a hell of a good time. You, me, and your little pup Wily III (or perhaps IV or even V by now). Love, friendship, and sincerest regards, Zeke a.k.a. Gene PS: I legally changed my name to "Ezekiel Krahlin," back in 1996...but please feel free to continue to call me "Gene Catalano." if that is your pleasure. I did it only to spiritually divorce myself from my blood family; they don't deserve me. I have never forgotten that cold, starry night when you pulled up across the street late in the wee dark hours, and hollered through a loudspeaker so robustly as to wake up the dead: "Catalano! You awake?" I nearly pooped my pajamas...people heard you more than two blocks away! God bless you, Witt. (John H., you were still living there 2 stories up in 404, you remember that night.) --finis

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