David Herrle, poet, editor, at Subtletea has just published “Archipelago” online, the opening story from my now completed short story collection, “Working Through the Holocaust.” If you are interested in my new effort, take a peek. It always validates me, at least, when a story or section of a work in progress is accepted for publication prior to publishing. David has also published my “Glut and Loathing in Las Vegas” in the same issue.
Before I knew it another blog was needed. About 9 months ago I was overweight to such a degree that diabetes was an incipient threat. I have seen what that disease can do and I was in no mood for insulin shots and the paraphernalia associated with that medical anguish. I got on supplements, read some essential books on dieting and began to work out at least five days a week for about 50 to 60 minutes per session. I can report after several blood tests that I am in the normal range (!) once again and that my doctor and I are both elated. He encouraged me, but I did it. Exercise really has shown the way because losing weight has been very hard to do. I am on a version of Weight Watchers (19 points per day for those who know about such calculations), eating the so called right stuff and taking over 10 supplements to assist my body from wearing down. Being compliant when it comes to health issues and not complaisant — after all, I want to be in good health to meet the grim reaper, exercise is no longer a passing fancy. It has to be part of my life if I choose not to become a diabetic — and I choose not to.
I have one more emotional hurdle to overcome; I am detecting a hearing loss so I will have to look into that. So with a diagnosis of a cataract and macular degeneration as well, I forge ahead. Deaf, blind, but never dumb. I go on. For 70, not too bad.
All of the above has given me an oxymoronic calm urgency, to knock off at least 4 or 5 books if not more in this decade. I am bombarded in e-mail and by the world at large as to how to market my books in the digital age — e-books, twitter ( should we rename that twinkie), facebooks and all that gelatinous American push to sell, sell, sell that I enjoy my resistance to it all. As long as I can get the bucks together to finance another book and send it out to friends and mildly hustle and mildly merchandise it here and there, it keeps mental and moral dementia away from my doorstep.
Perhaps as I sit here and associate to what I am writing at this second, allow me to share my “credo,” just newly formulated and brought to you, ladies and gentlemen, directly from the unconscious, the only real friend any good writer has — for it is authentic, unbiased and nonjudgemental.
: I love existence. I do not love religion, nor country, nor nation. I disdain all tyranny, to paraphrase Jefferson, that controls our minds. And it is most everything in any culture in any country throughout the world.
: I am in insurrection over any unreasonable conditioning — Tea Partyers, parties, sects, religions, media, formal national history, family, “normal” human interactions and artists as poseurs (see “Exit Through the Gift Shop” in your local cinema).
If I come to die, let Krishnamurti tell me the truth of that and Eric Hoffer tell me that I fought the good fight.
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