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.
0b5dea20aaf10e633945630eef2f64bfd4dfc884a3829aadbb by Mister-Seen
“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.
1523970896267 by Mister-Seen
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.
Eb5ec8cd144aab886262e08e340a581691f28ed8a9294fe0d4 by Mister-Seen
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.
50cf10399b36701a6d5d4491fd82019feb8319ae28b6b0a7d2 by Mister-Seen
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.
4d6f8038ebb0c2214a7fbe0a7f08b180a60a690cd50120eb56 by Mister-Seen
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.

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