Please Give: Help Shoot JPK Into Space

Hello Young Lovers. I have self exiled the fuck out of this year and now I’m R.T.G. (Ready To Go) into Spring swinging my usual loves of lore and Pop music and where the twain meet. Twain? Yes, Twain. I am back and ready to mingle and sing and talk about everything that either upsets…or resets…my personal Apple Cart. Lets catch up….



I put out a record that did pretty well for me. It was a record that I had to make, not for any career reason but more so self preservation. My Great American Novel, as it were. Taking my lyrical voice and really saying something.


I am proud of ‘The Zen Of Losing’. I am proud of the 4 headed cabal that made it: Me, Julie Kay, Adam Hagymasi, Dave Hogan.


So then….what? Oh, the Election.


I am not Political. OK, i wasn’t political. I never picked a side. Though common sense picked one for me.


This is a blog. It is self serving as a blog. I try and keep it funny so people enjoy it. But this could just as well be a summons. Cause if you are reading this now, maybe found it on Facebook or Twitter….you were likely here (online) back in September. October. November.


You remember when it seemed the World turned upside down. When your expected daily consumptions of music food and bullshit were hi jacked by the ugly gnashing politics of the day. Do you understand what I am saying? I am calling you a witness. As I witnessed too. We all witnessed, red and blue states together.


It was surreal, wasn’t it? Almost dreamlike in how everything that was broke down so quickly, so completely. All the thin veneers between us cracked and we saw what was on the other side. And it was not Us. It was Them.


I am not defending badly run campaigns and the American Id refracted into some kinda reality show monster movie. Brighter people have and will continue too.


What I am discussing is how an invasion feels. How it feels to walk into your yard and see all the new neighbors are…wrong in some fashion. Strange language and hours. Emphatic ridiculous ideas passed as proven facts, and repeated and repeated. It is not in my physical neighborhood….but I did not hang in my neighborhood as much as I hung online. Did you?


We watched, and we picked sides. Friends…dear friends who I had real and non Facebook affection for were hidden from my feed and consequently blinded me to what happened next. Things we cannot take back now.


Do you remember? What it felt like to feel the atmosphere changing, even in colonial Blue Connecticut, to something decidedly more alien. Something more suited to spores and single celled organisms.


It broke my heart. Not the Election as much as being so incorrect about where I lived. What I was proud of.


I have always been a Patriot. I know that term is…maligned in the new way of thinking…or at least over used by people who truly don’t remember where we came from. Being a true Yankee (perhaps in all the bad ways as well as good), living in the Intellectual Birthplace of American thought…I thought I knew a little something.


I was wrong. Worse, I was stupid.


And now…what? Why am I dredging all this up again?


Cause I got a band and a Master Plan. We are beating feet off this rock, and you are all invited.


Some people want money and fame. Some people want chicks by the bucketful. I have desired these things but now I have a new goal, a new reason to siong and write and put myself back in the world.


I want a rocket ship. And to sail away with JikiJikiJa.


Interested? Check back tomorrow.



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