Month: April 2018

Indoor Picnic:

. . 56-3642574-1429538256beb700524d9643288615f1a959f87 by Mister-Seen
I think today I’ll just eat a cheap meal, hot-dogs, beans and potato chips. I had some unusual expenses earlier this month so I need to economize. My ADD has really been acting up bad lately. I can’t concentrate on anything. I got up to page 282 of “American Psycho“, I was going to write a review of it, but to be honest, I completely lost interest. It’s not terribly well written. One of the reasons I started reading it was that I assumed, based on the cover, that it was written in the early sixties. I mean, come on, look at it, it’s totally retro! But no, it was published in 1991. I actually read another one of his books ten or fifteen years ago, “Less Than Zero”. He’s not an overly impressive writer but he deals in topics that arouse your morbid curiosity. In “Less Than Zero” it was rich kids doing drugs. In “American Psycho” it’s a yuppie serial killer. Oh well, I took a lot of notes so I guess I may as well finish it and write the damned review. He’s not very subtle so it’s not much of a challenged to figure out what he’s saying. Understated delicacy is obviously not very much in vogue these days.

In case anyone is interested in hearing more of my domestic news Karen bought me a new cart recently since the two I already had are now broken, a red one this time. They make the damned things so unnecessarily cheap they never last more than a year tops. I got it yesterday and there is a certain amount of assembly required. I need a pair of needle nosed pliers to insert the cotter pins and I either don’t have any or I just can’t find them so that project is now on hold. Karen suggested that I could ask the management here if they would lend me a pair. Maybe, they did let me borrow a hand tuck before. I may try that solution Monday. If they refuse to cooperate I guess I’ll just have to wait and buy some off E bay. No hurry, I’m already stocked up on jugs of water. That’s pretty much the heaviest thing I buy.

Oh, and just now I checked the mail and found a Nagel book. Older people may remember that he was kind of a big deal back in the mid 80’s, though I personally never cared much for him. Haven’t talked to Karen yet so I’m not sure whether she bought it for herself or got it for me as a joke. Maybe some seller just sent the wrong book, that happens more often than it should. She has her purchases sent to me because her father has a few untreated psychological problems and would totally flip if he knew she was buying all this junk. Although I agree it’s best to be as frugal as possible he does seem to over react to certain things way too much. Recently she got me this very nice H.J. Ward book to thank me for a favor I did for her. It’s awesome! I’m surprised they don’t make more books about those early 20th century illustrators. Those guys really knew their craft inside and out. There are a few books out on Pulp covers, but I hate buying too many general books on that topic because they all pretty much have a lot of the same pictures in them. I’m very in favor of publishing the works of old time magazine, comic book and newspaper illustrators in book form because, unfortunately, that stuff was originally printed on the absolute cheapest paper available and they are so fragile that simple exposure to light and air will eventually destroy them. I used to collect paper ephemera but I no longer think it’s worth it since they are always deteriorating, but I am slowly growing a library of illustrated books featuring their work. Next I’d like to get a book on J. C. Leyendecker. He was another legend.

I’m supposed to write a review of a friend’s book that he recently published about the subversive history of Hollywood, “The Protocols of the Elders of Zanuck: Psychological Warfare and Filth at the Movies“. I started working on it last week until I realized I was just writing my own essay on cinema. Of course I was, I read the book one or two months ago so I only have an ambiguous impression of it still with me. What I’ll have to do then is reread the book, or, at least, parts of it, then share my thoughts and impressions of what he wrote. Damn, and I better do it soon, I think I’ve already kept him waiting too long as it is. Anyway, since I’ve mentioned his book I may as well also link to his blog.

Earlier, a few days ago, I watched all four “Toxic Avenger” movies in a row and I wanted to review those, and even though I endured that crap-fest to the bitter end my mind again wandered and I no longer felt like writing the review. Now it’s no longer fresh in my mind so I don’t know if I can do them justice.

Anyway, after I stopped reading the Ellis book I started working on another skull mask, this time I’m doing “The Red Skull”. I should have bought more of those skull masks from China when they were available, I had no idea they’d ever stop selling them. They’re solid, white, foam plastic masks and I decorate them with markers. They were only a buck each but I only bought four, and one’s fucked up. Maybe they’ll be available again next Halloween. I hope so. I think I’ll make my next skull a clown. That would be fun. Well, at least you’d think so. It’s very slow and tedious work decorating those things with Sharpies and now that I don’t get high any longer my attention span is pitifully short. When I was a kid they had me on Ritalin for it so I guess they were already grooming me to be a druggy even way back then. Oh well, if I keep forcing myself to do that kind of work even though I don’t like it it will eventually become a habit, it just takes discipline, that’s all.

I’d like to start drawing again, I think I had a unique gift, and time is slipping away so quickly I feel it’s a crime that I’m wasting so much of it. I mean, sure, I read and even write a little bit, but I want to create something substantial. I admit I have no idea how to write a novel, but I know how to make pictures so that seems to be the easiest road I can take to accomplishing something noteworthy. Hell, I’m already literally a world famous artist so it seems kind of silly that I don’t even draw anymore. I think part of it is I feel I’ve been terminally trivialized and all my efforts are destined to never be taken seriously because of that cornball television show of theirs. No matter what I do I’ll be most famous for that shitty show. That’s pretty disheartening so it kinda takes the wind out of my sails. Of course drugs would certainly jump start my production. Drugs and art, for me at least, seem to go together. I used to love looking at art stoned. You often feel like you are literally walking around inside the picture. But I know some people who have died from drugs, and, what’s even worse, I knew this one guy in High School who we all thought was pretty smart, but now, after countless years of drug abuse he’s just a crazy asshole nobody wants to talk to or have anything to do with anymore. I think that’s even worse than death.
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“Can’t you keep your money and just give me my life back?” That’s how I often feel about this whole thing. Of course I don’t know if they ever really plan on paying me. Based on all their past behavior towards me it doesn’t seem very likely they ever will. Sometimes I wonder if my parents sold me to a television studio for money to buy drugs or pay gambling debts or something. These TV people certainly act like they own me. I mean, of course I was never able to do anything meaningful with my life because they stole it from me at an early age and starred me in their brainless TV show and have been directing my life as though it were a nihilist play ever since. That show should be no reflection on me. If it reminds you of the Jerry Springer show meets the Weekly World News or the National Enquirer it’s not because of me or how I want to live my life, rather it’s because that’s the highest level of entertainment these retarded hacks are capable of creating. They’ve wasted years of my life trying to compress me down to something that matches what their limited ability can portray.

They also had to hold me down so they could keep control over me. Naturally the more independent I could become or the more money I could make the more in charge of my life I’d be, and they certainly could not allow that. For instance, if I had enough money I’d have been able to find out about this stupid show of theirs many years sooner and I could have put a stop to it. They could not allow me to jeopardize their cash cow like that so they always made sure I couldn’t get a high paying job or make connections on my own that I could find useful in obtaining my independence. These assholes are total control freaks. The only reason they let me move out of the welfare building in Oakland was because they didn’t want me to be able to hear their show anymore.

They want absolute and complete control over the narrative, they don’t want to be bothered by my contradicting them or explaining the real story behind any of what they tell you. When you study how the media controls your thoughts practically the first thing that jumps out at you is how they always either silence, ignore or misrepresent anyone who contradicts the story they want the public to believe.

When I say I was never allowed to live a meaningful life I’m not even necessarily saying that I’d have created a great masterpiece of art or written an important novel or anything like that, just having been able to get married 20 or 30 years ago and having had children that would be college age by now would have been nice, but you go ahead and try to have an intimate relationship with anyone while you are being secretly starred in some cheesy shit show and see how fucking easy it is. I was always plagued by this urgent sense that everyone was lying to me, that everyone was dishonest and big secrets were being kept from me. Yeah, you don’t have to be all that perceptive to pick up on that shit, it’s pretty obvious and it totally fucks up your ability to feel any trust in anyone. You’re totally cut off from the world, from everyone, it’s just you, all alone, against a hostile world. The situation is not exactly conducive to living a healthy life full of love and friendship. Near as I can tell their show started seriously messing me up back around 1979-80 when they started focusing on how “weird” and angry I supposedly was. Considering that that time frame spanned from when I was ten till I was fifteen or sixteen that means that I had been suffering in the withering glare of their invasive spotlight for at least five years at that point so it should be no wonder if I was. This is just one of many examples of how this Satanic thing feeds off of the chaos and misery it creates.

People have always disappointed me but art was something that was always there for me whenever I needed it. Another unfortunate side effect of that evil show is it has majorly distracted me from the road I wanted to travel and I eventually stopped making art altogether, but I want to try and resume my journey. My skills are pretty rusty so it may be too soon to try to tackle themes like “alienation” and “loneliness”, besides, I’ve been kidnapped by pop culture so those subjects may be too serious for my audience, or it just wouldn’t be weird or exciting enough for them. Fine, so that’s the way it is, that’s what I have to work with. I’m creative, I can figure out an angle if I want to do something interesting and get back into making art. Maybe to warm up (I’ve been idyll for quite a number of years now), since I’ve been, against my will, made into something of a pop icon, I can capitalize on that and do a series of drawings of old movie monsters. That wouldn’t be too challenging to start off and they come with a ready made fan base. I even think a lot of them are public domain by now.
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I’m not sure I want to just pick up where I left off, drawing those visual puns and that surrealist and existential slapstick stuff. I posted a series of oddball “believe it or not” type stories here not long ago, maybe I could draw illustrations for those. Oh, I don’t know. I should just draw something, not even plan it, the main thing is to just get going again, but it’s so hard. I feel something is blocking me or holding me back and I’m not sure what it is.

I simply can’t get over how these clowns picked me out of the crowd and made me so damned famous without even telling me or asking my fucking permission, unless I was kidnapped and forced to sign a contract and then I was hypnotized to forget about it (which I’m sure we can all agree would be pretty far fetched) I never consented to any of this degrading bullshit. These people are monsters. I’ve been suffering all the unpleasant and difficult aspects of being a celebrity without a single one of the perks. This TV star gig is a real pain in the ass, this is why they get paid the big bucks. These sadistic assholes have had me working for free for nearly half a god damned century by now. I’d say “there ought to be a law”, but there already is, lots of very serious laws have been routinely violated where I’m concerned, but these privileged assholes aren’t held to them. I have no idea what the fuck is going on here. I’d never have chosen to be on TV, at least, if I did I’d prefer to be a traditional TV star. You know, one who actually gets paid.

And seriously, why would I have ever agreed to a shitty deal like this? I’d never grant somebody permission to broadcast hateful slander about me to all four corners of the globe every night, or allow these same misanthropes to completely control my life like this. It seems every friend I’ve ever had, every girl I’ve ever dated works for these people, and remember, these are cheap bastards so they’re not willing to put out for anyone who’s terribly interesting or attractive (at least they weren’t until recently, but I’m through falling for it). They had a real inexpensive and economic way of manipulating my social life. Nature abhors a vacuum, and their tasteless, tacky show repels people so my social life is usually an empty wasteland. They could just plop down any bargain basement loser they could find in the middle of that desert and all they had to do is show a little interest in me and, well, it’s not like my social calendar is solidly booked or anything, so, because I didn’t usually have anything else going on I’d eventually start socializing with these creeps.

Anyway, I finally wised up. Since everybody is only out to get stories about me for that lame show or get me into trouble I just stay away from everyone these days. Believe it or not women often flirt with me and they are often very forward about it. Actually this hardly ever happens nowadays because I’ve just been staying home all the time for the past few years and only shop very early in the morning when there’s hardly anyone out yet. I guess those TV people had been getting desperate because these women have been starting to get pretty uncharacteristically decent looking during the past six years. Sometimes, although very rarely, they even went so far as to offer to perform sexual acts on me, and these weren’t prostitutes. They were usually young, fit and attractive White girls and often dressed very nice and conservatively that I meet at either the Bart Station or while out shopping. Of course I’m not stupid. I’m just a generic, middle aged guy who dresses like a slob. Sure, a lot of girls these days have a sort of “daddy fetish”, but they usually prefer older guys with serious money and nobody could mistake me for a rich guy. These girls are either working for that show or hoping to get on it by having some spicy or degrading stories about me to share. Actually, given that they are attempting to do this for fame and fortune I suppose they are a kind of prostitute. Of course I want no part of any of that, I’m tired of being exploited by these goons. I’m not a performing money they can entice into copulating for their own childish amusement. Either pay me for the 44 years of work I’ve already done for you or leave me the fuck alone. I used to take all the flirting girls as evidence that I did have a big payday coming. A lot of women seem to be doing that these days, they get their hooks into some rich schlub then divorce him in a year or two and take half of his money, but I’m pretty eccentric so I’m not for everyone, and I’m also not so sure that in this society which puts such a premium on novelty and instant gratification that many of today’s girls could stand married life that long unless they were receiving regular paychecks in order to do so. I won’t have any money till this stupid show is canceled. Anyway, what possible motivation could I have to take the bait? Nothing ever works out, and it’s not only because I know they’re always lying to me, things just aren’t really supposed to ever work out. My achieving happiness and contentment is not the endgame here. It never was.
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This stupid show of theirs can also make it needlessly difficult for me to grow, improve and develop as a person. They constantly show old footage, and if I know these schlockmeisters they are getting lots of mileage out of old clips of me blowing my stack. The fact is I’m a lot more relaxed now that I have some idea what the fuck is actually going on, but these zombies are constantly shown footage of me getting mad so they naturally assume that’s just what I’m like. I use this as an example, it could be anything. I already mentioned in a previous post how a lot of people seem to assume I’m into precisely the same things that I was back in junior high or high school, but, like everybody else I’ve changed considerably over the years and I’m constantly learning and altering my tastes and opinions accordingly. People who watch that tabloid crap show supposedly about me don’t know me, they don’t know me at all. The person in that show is a fictional character. They create a false impression of me by showing select clips over and over again and letting any pathetic loser who wants to be on television go on there and make up preposterous stories about me. I’m really a very nice person but sometimes people make it hard because they’ve already made up their minds about me from that criminal show and treat me like a jerk. Funny how every sane individual who knows me personally likes me yet everyone who knows me only from the show hates me. It doesn’t really bother me all that much because, really, who cares if a bunch of morons don’t like you, but there is such a thing as common courtesy.

Some people do actually get it. They understand the show is only entertainment and that they exaggerate whatever quirks I may have and try to make me into a grotesque caricature or parody of myself because people these days like that kind of thing. Unfortunately sophistication like that is very rare and most people, like little children, take everything they see on TV literally so they take out their dislike for the contrived personality they see on the screen on me, which is very naive and inappropriate.

Figuring out all the ways they are spying on me used to take up a lot of my time when I was in that low rent building on Oakland. I really didn’t have much else to do. I once thought neighbors were spying on my cordless phone calls with some kind of equipment because they were reacting to what we were saying on the phone as we were saying it. Now I’m pretty sure it’s because my phone is tapped and my calls are broadcast live on that stupid fucking show. I once heard them playing one of the obscure video tapes I owned on that show, some stuff from the 1960’s. I figured they recorded it sometime when I was watching it on that thing they have for monitoring what your kids are watching on TV, or maybe Dana copied all my tapes while I was at work so maybe they were only playing one of those. I ruled out that it could have been footage shot in my room as I was watching it because the sound was way too clear. Evidently they not only show hidden camera footage of me and stories people tell about me but also everything I watch on TV, do on the computer and possibly whatever I’m reading too. Some of it anyway. I think it’s possible I have an entire channel all to myself, at any rate I think it’s very likely they have all that material available on their web site.

I also found that someone had uploaded Web Watcher onto my computer while I was in that miserable Oakland building, which didn’t really surprise me. That program costs over $100 so I know none of my neighbors bought it. Obviously the show paid for it and they had one of the losers in the building install it when I was out.  Back when I was living with Dana she once sent me an email with a virus attached to one of it’s pictures that infected my computer. She was not only able to see everything I was doing on the computer in real time but had control over all it’s functions. She, of course, being the demented, power mad cunt she is couldn’t help demonstrating her power over me by fucking with me while I was trying to do some Photoshop work, thereby giving her whole game away. She even paid this guy I knew to ask me a bunch of personal questions and questions about how much money I was getting, as well as all my financial details as he was secretly taping it. Isn’t that just tacky as fuck? The only reason I found out about that one was because I heard them playing his little tape on that vile show of theirs when I was living in that Oakland hotel. She had people doing this kind of stuff to me all the time. This kind of thing is not only creepy it’s also pretty sadistic when you think about it, but obviously nobody’s thinking too deeply hear. Either that or their just inhuman fiends. Personally I think it’s both.

Even my psychiatric sessions were broadcast live (which is not only as unethical as hell but highly illegal), plus I know people who work at the hospitals and with the doctors I go to sell them all my medical information to broadcast on that damned thing.

Although I’m sure they have pinhole cameras in the ceiling over my bed and desk since they want to watch me drawing and even read whatever I’m writing, I’m sure at the Oaks they had some cameras in the walls too because not long after I first moved in there I used to hang out in the lobby a lot since I didn’t have any furniture in my room yet and I was subjected to a staged conversation where a tenant was asking the front desk for some tape so he could put up some posters in his room and they were telling him no because it was against the rules to put up posters, which was complete bullshit. I think they didn’t want me covering up any of their lenses in my walls by putting up posters. Naturally after a year or two my walls were absolutely plastered with pictures, but since it seems everywhere I live has heavily textured and high ceilings I was never able to do much about the cameras up there. There’s equipment you could buy that detects bugs and cameras, but its very expensive. Just another reason why they’ve kept me poor I guess.

Up against the media as I am I find there’s very little I can do to ‘defend myself’ because I’ll always look like I’m the bad guy. Like back in 2007 when I was understandably upset with Brownfield for setting me up and making me homeless I said a lot of harsh things about her, even though I was the victim 100% I looked like an ungrateful asshole because of the way they spun the story on their show. She actually went on her own show crying about “how hard she tried to help me”, obviously never mentioning the fact that she herself was in charge of that very show and has been messing up my life since I can remember. I have a lot to be pissed off about in this situation, but anytime I’ve expressed that I was portrayed as a psychotic hothead. They were even making fun of me when I got depressed over it. Funny how they didn’t tell the truth and just say I was depressed because their show had ruined my life and everything I had ever tried to do, instead it was presented that I “suffered from depression”, like I simply had a psychological disorder. Same when they successfully got me mixed up with drugs. They certainly paved the way to them for me by giving me an awful lot I wanted to forget and get away from. They also had their employees posing as my friends who encouraged my drug use by giving and selling them to me. Of course they entirely ignored that whole aspect of it and just told the public I was just another drug addict.

Boys At Beach Small Web by Mister-Seen
How much better and happier my life would have been if they were honest with me about this show, or at least didn’t work so hard behind the scenes to fuck me up or slander me so viciously on it, but these people are habitually dishonest and that’s just how they roll. One of the things I hate most about these people is how they always have to sneak around.

Dana herself is particularly perverse in this way, if an end could be arrived at with equal satisfaction by either a straight forward, up front approach or a devious underhanded way she will always prefer the dishonest method. I remember once, many, many years ago, I was watching TV with Dana and it was one of those nature documentaries about how the bucks duel for access to the females during mating season. It mentioned how while the fit and strong males were fighting each other to prove their worthiness to reproduce many of the more weak and sickly males would take advantage of this to sneak in a little rutting of their own while the big boys were distracted. I was thinking, “Okay, so sneakiness isn’t just a human trait”, but Dana thought this was the best thing in the world and kept going on about how “Smart” those sneaky fuckers were. She just couldn’t get over it she was so absolutely awed by it. She was, I thought, more than a little too impressed.

So she’s always been very interested in deception. It’s in her blood. Then there was the time I had that Yahoo group back in ’03 or ’04. Back then, before I figured out I was the center of attention on a sappy “reality” show this sense that I was being watched and spied on would occasionally overwhelm me and I’d get a little paranoid. This time I decided to clean out the members of my Yahoo group and limit it to people I actually knew and people who knew people I knew. I didn’t want any strangers spying on me. I made an announcement that people who can’t prove that I know them or that they know somebody I know will be deleted. Dana had joined under a fake account. She has lots of fake accounts. Under her fake account she begged to stay even though she didn’t know me. In this account she claimed to be a retired airplane mechanic or some bullshit. I didn’t know this character, so I deleted him like I said I would. Okay, I forgot to mention that a few weeks or a month before this I was at the computer with Dana and she saw me put in my password. Even though she smiled very strangely after seeing me do this I’d known her nearly 20 years at that point so I thought nothing of it. Like a lot of people I used the same password for everything. Obviously I’ve never been paranoid enough. When I think about this I think it’s also very possible that everything I did on her computer was monitored anyway so it’s likely she already knew all my passwords, but who knows.
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So, back to my story- not long after I deleted her sock puppet account someone had changed the password to my Yahoo group so, of course I could no longer get in. A couple weeks later it was deleted entirely. Obviously she wanted to be in the group so she could have immediate access to all my posts so she could feature them on her stupid fucking TV show and because I deleted her fake account she destroyed the group. But she’s such a twisted cunt, if she wanted to know everything I was doing in that group she could have just joined under her own name, or, since she knew my password she could get in it herself and spy on me that way. She’s so devious she’s warped her own mind beyond all reason.

Now that I think of it back in the 80’s once she actually asked me what my pin number for my bank account was. Of course I didn’t tell her based on simple principal, I NEVER give out any of my banking information to anyone. If not for that strict code I set for myself I’d probably actually have told her since I didn’t feel I had any reason not to trust her, but knowing what I know now and thinking back I think it’s creepy as fuck that she even had the nerve to ask me that. I hate to think of what might have happened had I told her.

Also, Dana has always known that I’d give her copies of any of my pictures she wanted if she just asked for them, but instead while I was staying there she was busy stealing prints from my print file while I was out of the house. A lot of times the print I had was the only copy of the picture I possessed. I’d have gladly made her copies but the POS bitch stole them so they are now lost to me forever. She was also stealing originals, many of which weren’t yet finished and some I hadn’t even made copies of yet. I didn’t even realize this was going on until relatively recently when I finally got around to looking through that old stuff and found all these things missing. A lot of what’s missing Dana had expressed specific interest in, and now they’ve all mysteriously vanished.

Not all the sneaky shit she does is as pointless as what I’ve just mentioned. For the longest time they were offering financial incentives for people who could provide them with material they could use on that cornball production of theirs. So people would not only make up lurid stories about me to tell on the air, the losers at the welfare building I was staying at from ’07-’12 were stealing Computer CDs and notebooks out of my room to get the money they were offering. That was entirely unnecessary since they already had cameras and microphones in my room and Web-Watcher on my computer, but by encouraging everyone to participate it becomes a community effort to harass and persecute me. These assholes are obsessed with manipulating and controlling people. You know what’s really worrisome? Dana has in the past confided in me that someday she hopes to go into politics. There’s a truly frightening thought.
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Also, to anyone who thinks I’m just saying all this stuff about Dana K. Brownfield because I’m just trying to slander an X-girlfriend, well, she was never my girlfriend. I’ve explained all this before but I don’t remember how long ago. Her family was friends with the people who started that damned show so they were grooming her to take it over back in the ’80’s. She got a job where I was working, made herself available to me, we started dating and then she got me to move up to the Bay Area with her where this show originated, where she promptly dumped me, no reasons given. Eventually I moved back down south. Of course the show started making everyone I knew act crazy towards me and Dana was bugging me to move into her home in Oakland so I finally said yes just to get away from the madness going on around me where I was and came back up here. That was obviously one of my biggest mistakes. While I was living there she had some girl named Anne use sex to get me involved with hard drugs, then later, when Anne left on a long trip Dana kicked me out. I was never her bf, I was just an assignment. These people are sick bastards.

The World, the Flesh and the Devil:

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“…we should pass over all biographies of ‘the good and the great,’ while we search carefully the slight records of wretches who died in prison, in Bedlam, or upon the gallows.”
~Edgar Allan Poe

You know, it’s very strange, but I often wake up shortly before my phone starts to ring, and I’ve had premonitions of family or domestic disasters that had shortly come to pass. For years and years I had a strange idea that I was on television and always made a point of putting on an act and trying to be as entertaining, or at least as amusing or interesting as I could, even while in “private” (I actually have no privacy). Is a delusion still a delusion when it turns out to coincide with something that is actually going on?

After I finally heard the show for myself and confirmed all my worst suspicions I felt that perhaps many people who had gotten me involved in mischief had been motivated by seeing the show to try and mess me up, but later I came to find that most of them, possibly all of them, were directly employed by Dana Brownfield or the show for that very purpose. This is how Dana, and whoever had the job before her, exercised their jobs as the show’s directors. Would be nice if those TV people at least once in a while mentioned how they have been intentionally fucking up my life for the past 44 years, but obviously they prefer keeping their methods secret. The purpose of this whole thing would appear to be making me into the type of person they feel threatened by, showing me in the most unfavorable light possible, humiliating me, then sacrificing me on television by getting me to die by my own hand. Well, that last part disturbs me considerably, but fortunately it depends on my cooperation so, naturally, I refuse to provide it. They really are deplorable people. They used me like a resource and tried to squeeze as much money as they could out of me (and you’re a fool if you actually believe most of it goes to “charity”), and once they had finished they tried to throw me out like an empty cereal box or milk carton.

Another very disappointing and annoying aspect to this whole thing is the naive trust people seem to have in this staged production. People, how many times do I have to tell you, TV ISN’T FUCKING REAL! I’ll never forget how shocked and dismayed everyone was when the charge that I had been defrauding the government had been dismissed. People had been waiting ‘with baited breath’ for me to get busted and sent to prison over that for years. Some of my social workers stopped taking my calls after I was cleared and my psychiatrist, Dr. Tower, was livid and refused to see me anymore because he was so disappointed to have been “robbed” of what he felt was the privilege of testifying against me. No surprises there, after all he was allowing SF Commons to broadcast my sessions on that show, so you can see what his ethics were. I’m amazed that it never occurred to any of these idiots that the people behind this show have a vendetta to destroy me. Apparently they believe that show is some kind of ace journalism and that it’s the government that doesn’t know what it’s doing and has no idea where it’s money is going. Damn, I mean, I know people are fucking stupid but that’s unbelievable. Anyway, if that fucking retarded show was so totally wrong about something as important as that you must be class “A” dunderheads to believe anything else they say. I mean, between the outright lies, unfair insinuations as well as all the behind the scenes finagling going on I don’t understand how any reasonably intelligent person can trust it worth a damn. At least I guess I can be proud that I am the one on TV rather than one of the countless morons who watch that crap.
Drugs by Mister-Seen
Of course a constant thread throughout my life has been their working behind the scenes to get me hooked on drugs. These people are poisoners, they poison your mind and they will even literally poison your body if they can.

Also, this show’s info about me is also out of date, what little of it that was ever correct at all. Sure, I used to get angry a lot and I guess I had a bad temper, but that’s not an issue anymore Learning the reality of the show has explained everything to me so I no longer find it quite as perplexing. Of course you’re going to get pissed if you don’t know why everything you try to do fails, why people are constantly fucking with you all the time or why everything you do eventually gets sabotaged. Of course this show is nothing short of a criminal act, a violent assault on both me and every plan I’ve ever made, but they have complete control over the narrative since it’s impossible for me to directly respond to anything they say. This is another way they use the media, they silence all opposition simply by not giving them a voice, or creating a false voice for them like they do for me on that show. They are very manipulative and irresponsible and really shouldn’t be working in media at all.

I used to live in a building full of stupid people who religiously watched that lame show so I was able to hear episodes of it for myself. Admittedly that was nearly seven years ago so my impressions may be out of date, but I remember the overall tenor of the show as being excessively cruel and demeaning, they had a lot of liars on there making up provocative stories about me, of course since everybody I personally knew worked for the show I recognised a lot of them and it suddenly became clear why everyone was always encouraging me to do dumb and weird stuff. What I found most annoying about the show was how they frequently played creepy sounding music in the background. They also like to play that eerie, almost nauseating synthesizer music, the same kind they used to use on nature documentaries whenever they’d show footage of maggots writhing all over a rotting dog or something else unsettling, over what I think was footage of me. That’s my best guess as to what was going on, remember that I could only hear it, not see it, but since I often heard my own voice under those sounds I think that’s a good guess as to what they were doing. That’s not journalism, that’s not honest reporting. This show is nothing but propaganda and deliberate slander.
E590d5f97c62ec25e1b1e01082868fdf by Mister-Seen
Anyway, some of the out of date information that I learned that stuck with me was that my favorite author was Poe. Maybe it was when I was 15 or 16, but naturally who my favorite author is is something that seems to constantly change. One thing I will say about Poe though, I grew up hearing he was a drug addict and that he was insane. Living under that evil show as I have for over four decades I have learned to be very wary of gossip and slander and I believe none of that rubbish. He was primarily a literary critic, and an unapologetically honest one at that, and he also seems to have had a bit of a drinking problem. He tended to be viciously “honest” when he was in his cups. Naturally he made a lot of enemies. Some were very rich and powerful, or at least well connected, so of course they did their best to sully his reputation. Believe me, the world hasn’t changed much in the past 170 years. As to who I favor now, my head is presently swimming in a sea of names, both popular and obscure so it’s difficult to say which one occupies the supreme position in my mind right now, but presently I’m reading, “No Name” by Wilkie Collins and I’m finding it very impressive even though it basically reads like a Victorian soup opera, but a very engrossing soap opera. I admit I’m already predisposed to that sort of thing so I’m really enjoying it.

I was recently into F. Scott Fitzgerald for a bit and I even occasionally indulge in what may be considered trashy hack writers like Norman Spinrad. I also read a lot of nonfiction, for instance I was recently studying the Irish Potato famine and read a few books on that. After the Collins book I was thinking of reading ‘The Complete Short Stories of H.P. Lovecraft’. I’ve had the book for a few years but I kept putting off reading it because I thought it would be a special treat, but now I’m determined to get it out of the way. It would be a shame if I had it for years then something happened to it before I got around to reading it. Another reason I’ve not yet read it is because I’m not so crazy about short stories anymore. I used to love them when I was younger, now I prefer longer works I can submerge myself in. This is funny because so far I’m only able to write short pieces and I don’t think I could write a book. Perhaps I will some day, when all this show crap is finally over. (Actually, now that I think of it I’m willing to decare Sir Walter Scott as my all time favorite writer. But be warned, my opinion is more than likely to change at any time)

Some men just like to watch the world burn by Mister-Seen
Another thing I remember was them going on about my supposed fondness for the Beatles. LOL! Yeah, when I was back in Jr. High school maybe. Now that I have a better understanding of the world I can’t say I like them very much at all. They were a tool used by the people who secretly run the world to warp the minds of the young. In fact that’s what all media is. Even though I’m aware of this I can see how their toxic garbage seeps into my own subconscious simply by being exposed to it so I consciously avoid TV, movies and pop music as much as possible these days. I’m determined that all my thoughts and ideas should be based on sound reasoning and personal observation and not the result of being emotionally manipulated by some make believe stuff I saw on a screen or heard in a song. I confess I watch old movies and television on YouTube, but I’m very careful not to let them have any effect on my thinking. I do listen to classical music occasionally, and before I totally woke up to what is going on I listened to a lot of Tom Waits and Butthole Surfers (a very unfortunate name) and a little of this, that and the other thing too, mostly while I was drawing. I used to always get high before drawing. Of course the constant psychological pressure I was living under because of that show led to my using progressively harder and harder drugs. The show’s agents made this even easier for me by introducing me to these habits and even providing me with the drugs themselves on occasion, for a price, of course. Once I finally saw their conspiracy I quit altogether, and I had to do it entirely alone since the community of the bay area refused to assist me and were even very rude about it. The good news is I’m completely off drugs, and since I figured that any job worth doing is worth doing right I also quit drinking and smoking while I was at it. That’s good news, but an unfortunate side effect is that I no longer draw or paint. There was a theory in the 50’s, not sure if it has been since revised or not, but it claimed that if you learned something high or drunk you needed to be high or drunk to best recall it. This may be one of the reasons why I need to be high to draw. Since I used to draw for hours at a stretch I taught myself a great deal, so naturally if I got high I’d be drawing up a storm, but if I can’t learn to draw sober I just won’t draw at all. Never made any fucking money off of it anyway because of that damned show.
I must apologize to my regular readers for repeating the same information constantly, only I can tell by the number of hits each post gets that I have a constant stream of new readers breezing through and I feel the information is important enough to keep before the public. I know that people who “know” me exclusively through the show likely have a very different impression of me then the more literate members of my audience, so when they do stop by out of curiosity I am eager to take advantage of this to enlighten them to certain facts that the people who have been exploiting me through that show may not be honest about as it exposes some of their more deceptive practices, and believe me they use many. “Show business” is, after all, all about deception. Remember, they don’t call it “show business” for nothing, and they certainly can’t call it “truth business”, not even the so called “News”. It’s also easy to tell television is about mind control simply by observing that the shows are referred to as “programming”.Now, I realise they could possibly read my posts out loud on their show, but if they do I doubt they could refrain from making nasty comments and observations during or after reading them. I honestly have no idea since they have since allowed me to move somewhere where I can no longer hear that infernal production. Although I find it relaxing to be away from that hateful denigration I admit that I did like keeping up on what they were saying about me. I guess it’s better that I can no longer hear it since I can’t do anything about it anyway. Not yet at any rate.

This media project was destined from the start to degenerate into a morass of compounded difficulties for me that would eventually render my life unmanageable. Those media bastards knew exactly what they were doing. Had I not decided to drop out of society completely there’s no telling how I might have ended up. Dead, in prison or a madhouse would seem to be among the most likely outcomes, so I sincerely believe I made the only intelligent choice available to me considering which direction things were headed. They were pushing all the public’s buttons so it was very unpleasant for me to interact with most people. They really left me no other choice.
Leonesse-mangiano by Mister-Seen
These people rudely and selfishly helped themselves to everything they could get out of me, even stooping so low as to steal my actual artwork from me, along with everything I’ve said, done or written, and twisted it to their own nefarious purposes, and to date they haven’t compensated me with so much as a penny. They greedily take and take while never paying me a thing while I’m forced to live on the government’s generosity. Believe me, I often have a hard time believing that that laughing imbecile Dana Brownfield and all her cohorts, though they all appear on the surface as good natured idiots, are as vile and evil as they have proven themselves to be. I know how diligently they have been working through the years behind the scenes to get me involved with all manner of vice trying to make me more closely resemble how they present me on their moronic show as they simultaneously slander and insult me mercilessly over the airwaves causing me untold misery and suffering through the years. As hard as it may be for me to believe it I know it’s true. I’m not stupid and I have uncovered many of their schemes. It’s the only reason I’m still around.

Prison of Lies:

1522417561193 by Mister-Seen
“they used to knock out stoolies, or whoever they wanted to get rid of, put them in barrels and pour concrete in the barrels and dump them in the lake.

Due to a major construction project the lake was drained and they found all these old barrels full of concrete. The organic matter encased in the concrete had long ago corrupted into a putrescent sludge. After detectives studied them to get rid of 90 year old cold case files on slow afternoons they had to deal with disposing of the barrels. Well, fortunately for them there was an avant garde artist who called himself “Smudge” who had heard of the barrels and offered to take them off their hands. He had an idea for an art show. He made casts of the inside of the barrels and made impressions from those. The effect was truly macabre, human figures compressed into a confined space, many seemed to have anguished expressions on their faces, as if they were frozen in mid-scream. They put one in mind of the casts made in Pompeii where the victims were encased in volcanic ash only they were much, much creepier.”
Actually, as I was writing the above piece it put me in mind of an incident that happened to me nearly 25 years ago in Encino. I was a member of some organization called “L.A. Art” ran by some guy named Mickey Kaplan. He had one or two galleries but he also had access to a display case in an Encino office building so he let me put some of my work in it. The display I concocted just consisted of pastel drawings of human figures contorted to fit in small squares and rectangles, the limbs reduced to basic compositional elements. It was really just basic decorative cubist fare. Nothing morbid about it or anything. It was actually pretty pedestrian for me since I wasn’t even trying to be weird in any way. Well, not even a week later Mickey showed me a petition all the workers in the building signed wanting to have my display taken down. It went on about how they don’t think they should be subjected to such depressing work every morning on their way to work &tc…
S-l500 by Mister-Seen
It wasn’t until years later, after I found out about the crappy TV show they were using me for and how slanderous and defamatory that it is that I realised that they weren’t complaining about some kind of subliminal negativity emanating from my work, but rather they were complaining about having to be reminded of “me” every morning as they were coming to work, or, more accurately put, being reminded of the offensively twisted creature created by those derivative media drudge hirelings to represent me. That, of course, would be the same Frankensteinian monster most people would superimpose over me whenever they looked at me thanks to that idiotic show of theirs.
Considering that that’s what I have been forced to fight against my whole life I think I’ve done very well for myself, I mean, it’s amazing that I’ve not only managed to survive but have managed to stay as positively as I have and have achieved as much as I have with a handicap like that tied around my neck like a millstone for all these years. I even worked for as long as I could until they started going so overboard with the slander that I simply couldn’t get any kind of halfway decent job any more. I really have been fighting up hill against insurmountable odds living as I have been in the shadow of that kind of constant media defamation nearly all my life.

They didn’t care that I was depressed and habitually using potentially deadly substances because of their show. As long as they were making money they were more than fine with it. Plus if I did suffer a mishap and checked out early that would just be less for them to worry about, and then they’d be able to sell all the work that they have stolen from me over the years and market me anyway they wish, maybe selling Ron Tweedie themed merchandise or making cartoons and movies using me as a character. This is what these people do, it’s how they operate. People and human suffering mean nothing at all to them if there is money to be made. In fact I’ve explained to you all several times how they themselves intentionally created the whole miserable situation where I found myself involved with drugs in the first place. All they care about is money and they don’t care how they get it or who they have to roll over to get at it. These media people are absolute garbage, plain and simple.

The creepiest thing is not so much that they’ve been using this show to try and warp both me and my image over the years, but that they were using me to try and pervert the minds of their viewers. Remember, modern media isn’t about entertainment or sharing information, it’s all about controlling the masses, molding the way they think by altering their perceptions of each other and the world around them. I feel absolutely soiled that I was made an unconscious party to something as sick as that. The sneaky fucks didn’t even let me know they were using me and my work so of course they never asked my permission. It’s no wonder they were trying to kill me by making me unemployable and getting me mixed up with hard drugs, they’d really rather not have to face me and answer for everything they have done to me since 1973, and since they were counting on their succeeding in getting rid of me they haven’t shown much in the way of restraint during the past 44 years. As it turns out I’m still mentally on the ball, in good health and still very much alive despite everything they’ve put me through. Too bad for them
S-l1600 by Mister-Seen
This show, if it were just them getting their sick jollies hiding cameras in my home to spy on me doing God knows what, that would be bad enough, but they have a skill, or at least more of a drive- to make everyone else complicit in their disturbed obsessions. Everybody, from children to sweet little old ladies are now, through their helping maintain this projects secrecy from me, guilty of aiding and abetting this unethical and immoral project of theirs. This may be so if anything did happen to me and I died the public would share in the bad karma. These people really are a parasitic disease. How can anyone really defend something as fucked up as this?
Of course what I resent most is that they took my life away from me at an early age and used it to promote their own nihilistic agenda, so in a way I feel partly responsible for the sorry state of the world today. They had no right to do that to me. They don’t even have the right to be doing what they are doing to you through their televised propaganda. These people are criminals of the worst kind.

Also, how am I supposed to feel having been secretly slandered for over 40 years on such a large scale? My life never got anywhere and everybody treats me weird. How would I feel now if I didn’t know about their show? Suicidally depressed would be my guess. I wasn’t supposed to know about it at all. What should I be feeling now that nobody likes me, my life never got anywhere for me, everything I did ended in failure and I had no idea it was because I was being nightly slandered on TV? Homicidal rage? Suicidal depression? Nothing good I’d warrant. So all you people helping keep this a secret from me were helping them to do this to me. Thank god I know about their show and their evil itinerary so their wicked deeds don’t really affect me mentally. Not very much at least.

It’s my civic responsibility to make sure they don’t get away with this. Of course I have been powerless so far to correct their behavior since nobody will cooperate with me and everybody lies to me about it whenever I bring it up. That’s okay, things are always changing. I may get my opportunity yet.
**************************************************************************************************************

Anyway, on the lighter side of things I’m on the prowl for a book of Picasso’s engravings and etchings. The good stuff, not that sloppy crap he was constantly churning out to make a quick buck. It’s hard shopping for that online as it’s not really possible to gauge the quality of the work based on the title of the book alone. I’m looking for the stuff of his that has all that intricate, spider webby line work. That stuff was a big influence on my own work growing up and I noticed that I don’t have any examples of it in my current library so I feel I need to fix that.

(I’ll be adding to this and the last post until it’s time to make a new one, probably in another week or week and a half)

Footloose and Fancy Free:

1522142513586 by Mister-Seen
March 27th, 2018

Presently I’m reading a book by Philip K. Dick that he was never able to publish during his lifetime, “Voices From the Street”. I think it was finally published in 2007. I’m not sure if it was his very first book, but it was definitely an early effort, written, I believe, in 1952 when he was in his early 20’s. P.K.D. died in the early 80’s when he was in his early 50’s. All his previous amphetamine abuse apparently caught up to him all at once and he had some kind of massive aneurysm and just dropped dead. Certainly not the worst way to go. I’d much rather prefer that to wasting away with a slowly progressive illness. The only serious drawback I can see is if one doesn’t have all one’s’ earthly affairs in order when the time comes.

I was about 74 pages into this book when I realized I had read it before, must have been ten years ago. When I was living in the welfare building with all those losers I entertained myself by trying to read my way through the entire Oakland library. It was very difficult because those morons were very noisy. I often left and hopped on the Bart train and just rode around all day reading, then I’d get off one stop away from where I got on and only had to pay about a buck. Anyway, since it had been ten years since I read it I’d forgotten nearly all of it, but of course certain passages and subplots stuck with me and I finally recognised enough of them that I was able to determine that I’d already read that very book, but since I’d forgotten most of it I just kept reading it anyway. I’m about halfway through now.
I often find myself profoundly humbled by the early efforts of certain artists, writers in particular these days, since I’ve put down my pens and brushes for the time being. Fitzgerald wrote his “This Side of Paradise” in 1919 when he was 23. Hunter S. Thompson wrote his “Rum Diary” in the late 50’s when he was around the same age, possibly younger, and I think that it was his best book. He had a very hard time getting it published though and I don’t believe it wasn’t until years later, after he became famous for his “gonzo journalism”, that it finally saw print. It was certainly his most structured work. His work is generally very chaotic and I guess you’d call it “humorous”. Biting satire that puts me in mind of many of the Warner Brothers cartoons I grew up watching on Saturday mornings. I enjoy his style, although I admittedly find it very tedious reading him constantly alternating between bitching about Nixon and kissing Muhammad Ali’s ass. His retarded (and disingenuous) politics are made almost palatable dressed up as they are in animated, surrealist feux-drug imagery and aesthetics. Actually I’d not have classed him among serious writers like I did just now were it not for his “Rum Diary” since that one proved to me that he at least had the potential. Unfortunate for literature though that he chose not to follow art but the money instead. Well, considering he came from money that shouldn’t surprise us. People who are born rich usually have materialism in their blood.

I’m pretty envious of others’ creativity, those who impress me at least. I hope that once all this stupid TV crap is over and I’m compensated that I won’t feel repressed anymore and I’ll once more feel more free to express myself. I’ve told you before that I’ve always wanted to study oil painting. One day when I can afford it I want to find out who the best teacher is and study under him. It’s always been my biggest regret that I never served an apprenticeship under a real artist when I was younger. I’m not even sure such things are done anymore though. Even if they were my blue collar family would have been totally clueless about it. Anyway, despite everything I can still draw, basically. I mean, I can still copy stuff by eye pretty accurately, I just don’t feel like making pictures anymore these days. I know I’d feel better about myself if I could occasionally create something I can feel proud of like I used to. Maybe after my apartment is all set up and taken care of I may try applying myself to a project and see how I do. If I look through my old sketchbooks I know I’ll find some ideas I can get excited about. Maybe I can even find some old picture I started like twenty years ago and finish it. That would get me back in the groove and going again.
1522142742369 by Mister-Seen
I hope I’ve not much longer to wait until they pay me for all the suffering they’ve been putting me through all these years. I looked at myself in the mirror a little while ago and I can see that I’m starting to look a little old. Those bastards have stolen the best years of my life from me. The situation with these media people reminds me of those old cartoons. Some guy will be sitting at a table and they bring out a whole turkey on a platter with all the trimmings, then a bunch of mice jump on it and after they jump off theres nothing there but a skeleton and the poor guy is left with nothing to eat. That’s the perfect analogy for what these pricks have done with my life.

Once I found out they’d been making this show about me since the 70’s and that I’d likely be paid at some point I stopped doing anything that could negatively affect my health. I’m determined to live long enough to get my money. I even cut out sugar and caffeine for a bit until rather recently, but I decided I had to have something and reneged on that part of my pledge. These clowns need to stop procrastinating and pay me already. This series is officially over now anyway. Nobody but an absolute weirdo enjoys voyeuristically spying on a middle aged man, so come on, just stop it. Since the jackals behind this show have used it to completely flatten my life and have literally taken everything from me I have become understandably fixated on being paid for services rendered. That’s another immoral thing about all the secrecy surrounding this show, I am unable to make sure my rights are observed and not violated, and as a result I haven’t been shown any respect at all by these visionless, bottom feeding hacks. Since my payday will be their judgement day it makes sense that they’d like to postpone those dates for as long as they can. I’m sure their not quite so secret fantasy is to put them off long enough so that I won’t be around to see either of them and only they themselves will remain to tell the tale. Don’t worry though, I’m doing everything I can to make sure I stay here as long as possible and that the world gets the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth by gum!
Of course, “collecting my dues” isn’t my only motivation for cleaning my act up. Like I recently said, my finding out that I wasn’t exercising my own will, but that of my enemies when I was putting all that poison into my body was a life changing epiphany for me. Since I hate those leperous hypocrites more than anything that made it very easy for me to completely quit. The truth really does have the power to set one free. Considering that it should be easy to understand why those media assholes have been so consumed with their obsession that I not learn anything at all about how they have been exploiting me for the past 44 years.

I couldn’t remember any dreams when I woke up today, but I’ve been getting flashbacks from them now and then. No clear recollections but good impressions, very positive stuff about creating and building. I sense positive change in the environment. It’s very exciting although I’m not sure if it portends something for me specifically or whether it’s just the fact that Spring is in the air.

March 29th,
Well, I just finished the PKD book. I don’t understand why Stuart’s boss felt guilty about his meltdown. If anything he only tried to help him by giving him an opportunity to better himself despite suspecting he was a nutjob all along. I’d forgotten how subversive that book was, especially considering when it was written. All his books are subversive though. The only reason I read them was because the way his characters always found themselves in bizarre situations that made them question their very reality resonated with me. I was very familiar with that disoriented sensation, especially after decades of coexisting with that covert show always blaring away in the background playing head games with me.

That’s all for now. I just wanted to make a quick post since it’s been a while. I’ll add more to this one occasionally for the next week or so. Bye!


(Sad that these people are enjoying such a pleasant retirement but there won’t be anything like that available to their own grandchildren. We’ve made some very poor decisions since then and the world is literally falling apart. This is especially true in Britain where this was filmed)