Sunday, February 1, 2009

Mocking Birds

I'm drunk. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I drank a bottle of Malbec, 2007 Los Alamos, good stuff, deep purple and 11.00 a bottle. From Argentina. Like Ernesto Guevaro de la Serna. Faithful and true. Then I returned to my roots. I've been drinking Jimmy Beam straight since I finished the wine.

This isn't fashionable. I remember a time when drinking heavily was kewl. Well, ya know, I've done my time with fucking fashion. I did a lot of coke back in the days when coke was all the rage. I did a bit of meth too, if it was clean and the fount wasn't tainted too much with white trash. But you know, there is this whole ethic now that demands that you feel somewhat ashamed if you allow yourself to become drunk, or overcome by any mind altering thing. Screw that.

These things come and go. There's nothing wrong with getting fucked up, and I don't really give a rat's ass anyway. As long as you don't die - and even if you do - whose fucking business is it anyway?

Anyhow. I've been doing some thinking tonight. I've been wondering if there is any truth to the idea that our attitudes toward politics is inbred. I'm Irish. I've never lived in Ireland, and my founding ancestor left Ireland to get the fuck away from the faith and the violence. But let me watch a movie, say the Devil's Own, and I'm rooting for the IRA guys to kill the loyalist fucks to the last man. Me, Ms.Pacifist, screaming out to KILL HIM, SHOOT HIM! I swear I can feel my blood start heating up. What the fuck? Let me watch a non-violent Irish movie, for example The Secret of Roan Inish, and before the goddamned thing is over, tears will be running down my cheeks.

El Che was part Irish. He was a Lynch, from County Galway on his dad's side. He also had Basque blood. Sounds like a genetic prescription for a refusal to accept the status quo, if nothing else. Was his revolutionary streak inherited? Or was it just handed down from generation to generation by family tradition? It's interesting to speculate. Hard to prove.

Maybe we Irish are really all crazy. Maybe it's genetic. I'm listening to my beloved Mark Lanegan tonight. Talk about crazy Irish people. I love that man. There's a strain of self-destruction in his music and lyrics that speaks to me. I don't believe in woo, and I don't believe in ethnic predisposition per se, but

Aw fuck it. Judge for yerselfffff.


  1. Must be something in the air in Ioway. Feeling somewhat crappy this morning, I threw myself into making a nice meal, followed by lotsa wine and cigars while a buddy and I yelled profanities at the super inanities on the teevee. Yeah, a night for introspection. As they say: tempus fuckit

  2. Paying for it today, though. Yes indeedily-do.

  3. Yeah, there is that reality thing to pop back up...

  4. I'm just a lump of hybridized Sicilian, Irish, Polish, German, Ukranian, Bohemian, ancestry. Which might mean that I should be a dude who sees five sides to every question, and can't decide anything, but who sometimes just wants to give some stupid fucker cement overshoes, drop him into the harbor, & watch until the bubbles come up.

    Actually, that's pretty accurate... crazy how this ancestry stuff works.

  5. Hey, not a damn thing wrong w/ enjoying oneself in the privacy & safety of one's home. Just be sure to keep the William Holden Memorial Drinking Helmet on.