Tuesday, April 14, 2026
—it shall come to pass, he said, because it will be, and that is all, I don't love you and I don't hate you, as far as I'm concerned you can all go to hell, if one falls down, then another will take his place, I see in advance what will be, I hear in advance what will be, and it will be sans joy and sans solace, so that nothing like this will ever come about ever again,
,indeed, already at the beginning he would speak as, according to expectations, he was compelled to—and as for rebellion—his voice suddennly became very subdued—if anyone even contemplates a plan against me, or if the desire would be manifest, even in a suggestion, that anything should be executed any differently than how I want it to be—well, do not even let this appear in your dreams, cast it out from your minds, or at least try to cast it out, because if you make any attempts, the ending will be woeful, and this is a warning, although not a benevolent one,*
How many times have you thought, This has happened before, and will happen again, and this will keep on happening. How often have you felt inside, this is eternity. This dirt, this cat, rescued from the park below, healed and raised on the 15th floor, looking down from this window, this pink cross, this pink dashed line, this pink cross again. It may be gone tomorrow, but it was here before.
Monday, April 13, 2026
I remember a fellow on Gabriola Island who loaned me a cute little trailer and helped me move it to the horse pasture where I lived among the horses. He thought he was Jesus. He swallowed LSD and prayed on some one's lawn and knocked on the door saying he was the savior and was met with a shotgun and the island policeman was called. He was a sweet guy. I wonder where he is today. Trump thinks he's Jesus too, though he's nasty. He's just doing his perverse song and dance. Later he said he thought he was a doctor because he helps people. We don't have to pray to a specific god, but we better pray, as we are in a world of trouble now.
Sunday, April 12, 2026
Saturday, April 11, 2026
Humans come in masses to swoon over the evanescent cherry blossoms. There are so many the traffic is forced to a stop to allow them to cross. I dread the future masses of pilgrims to come to swoon over the Obamachron. And we, if we are meant to stay, will look upon the masses from our window and be grateful we're still here, and not over there.
Doha — Qatar has announced its decision to withdraw American military forces from the Gulf region, becoming the first country in the area to do so. The Qatari foreign minister stated that his country has paid a heavy price for hosting foreign military bases. The minister also described Qatar’s relationship with Iran as “brotherly” and affirmed that Qatari soil will never again be used to harm that relationship.
Friday, April 10, 2026
An amazing piece of truth in Haaretz this morning: the European pine trees Ashkenazi settlers planted over the ruins of Palestine's villages are dying en masse throughout occupied Palestine, 'and no one knows exactly why'.
But it is obvious why: they are not native, and they were used as weapons of war and ethnic cleansing.
The very soil rejects repugnant Zionism. The land itself, no less.
This could be the most ominous signal Zionists have ever received. And they have received plenty. It feels like a divine warning.
Alon Mizrahi
-the trees know where they don't belong.
I look down there and my eyes water. I'm not even thinking, really. I feel a bottomless feeling about this bewildering production in the park. I feel the wired network buried and the styrofoam substrate offgassing underneath the soil excavated from another place. I feel an excavation taking place. Meanwhile another president in succession threatens to destroy another civilization begun long long ago, before the invention of the free world.
i wonder what the trees feel, born elsewhere, put on a truck, roots bound, where do they feel they are, hopeful, is this to be home then? what a strange home then. the workers dug a hole by this one tree and i saw a worker down in the hole, now the hole is filled, and the little tree still sits beside the hole.









