Reprise Sunday: Wonder If God Reads This Stuff?

Well, if he DOES….boy am I screwed. Here’s a reprise of a blog from April 2012.

Bless you my child and enjoy.

The Catholic Church Is Being Too Catholic…Sorry GOD…But I Had To Chime In On This One.

GOD will most likely be really ticked off at me for writing today’s blog, but I figure it this way. If GOD doesn’t have a sense of humor, which HE may not, considering I’ve never seen HIM on my list of readers that WordPress supplies me with, then what have I got to lose.

I base this on the fact that ever since lotteries came into being, and I’ve prayed to hit the lottery, I haven’t hit it yet. Except for a few dollars here and there, which doesn’t really constitute a winning jackpot as far as I’m concerned, and may actually mean that GOD “does” have a sense of humor for screwing around with me with these small winnings.

Might be his way of getting even with me for not going to confession all of the time, and, perhaps leaving out some details when I was confessing my sins. HEY….I looked at it this way.  Why embarrass the heck outta myself in front of Father Penance, who is, after all, human, when GOD himself knows all that stuff already. I don’t need no stinkin’ middle man.

Hmmmm…..can I be excommunicated for writing this? AND….if I am, does excommunication mean I can’t communicate with any of my exes anymore?

Anyhow, I read about the late Senator Edward Kennedy’s wife, Victoria, who was supposed to speak at a commencement and receive an honorary degree at Anna Maria College in Paxton, Massachusetts. (no relation to Gary Paxton from the rock duo Skip & Flip)

It seems that Bishop Robert McManus, head of the Worcester, Massachusetts diocese, was upset that Victoria would be speaking at the commencement. Maybe he was afraid Victoria would be telling some “secrets.”  Play on words there folks.

Actually, Bishop McManus gave no reason for his decision. But, a diocese spokesman, (guys who speak for the diocese and GOD, kinda like a Heaven PR man, if Heaven had a publicity department) said that, “Catholic institutions should not honor those who act in defiance of our fundamental moral principles.”

Which, might be due to the fact that Victoria has backed abortion rights and gay marriage which are a no no as far as the Catholic church is concerned. So, I would assume if you’ve had an abortion, or, even thought about one fleetingly, or are gay and possibly thinking about marriage, or (gasp) even got married, you are not welcome in the Catholic church.

Which got me to wonder……how does the Catholic church know if any of their parishioners have had abortions or are gay?  Then I figured it all out. Being good devoted Catholics, anyone who had an abortion or is gay obviously went to confession, told Father Penance all that stuff, and in turn he immediately faxed GOD with this classified information, and GOD, or his PR department sent back a GOD memo banning these sinners from whatever it is they ban you from.  Speaking at commencements and other stuff I guess.

Victoria said that no one from the church ever contacted her, including Bishop McManus, about his objections or to speak with her pastor to learn about her faith. The least they could have done was forward her a copy of the memo from GOD’s PR department.

Unless…….they were too busy, considering Rick Santorum has been spending a lot of time with GOD himself. You all know how tough it is to keep track of all that sinning repenting stuff when you’re in the middle of a heated campaign. AND……as we all know, Santorum DOES have an “in” with GOD himself.

I think I read somewhere that GOD had told Rick to run via a GOD memo.

Well, all in all it’s Anna Maria’s loss.  Um, the college and not Anna Maria herself. I’m sure there’s an Anna Maria somewhere out there in Worcester, so I just had to clarify that fact.

If I were Victoria Kennedy, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over their decision. I myself have never been asked to speak at any Catholic school commencement either. Mainly because I’m of the same opinion as Victoria. That, and the fact that I did hold back on some of my confession material sin stuff as a child. As I said earlier, there was no way I was gonna tell Father Penance all that stuff. Nope. Next thing ya know he might decide to retire, write a tell all book detailing my sins, sell it to a movie producer, and then where would I be?

I’ll tell ya where.  Exposed!  I’d be all over the newspapers, Internet, Twitter, Facebook, and the next thing ya know on “Dancing With The Stars,” be writing a book and go on book and speaking tours, and then land my own reality show making gazillions of dollars just like Bristol Palin.

WAIT!!!  OMG!!!  (sorry GOD)

“Dancing With the Stars!”  The Internet!   Twitter!  Facebook!  Reality show!  Books! Speaking tours! G-g-g-gazillions of dollars!!!!!!!

“Hello… this Father Penance from “Our Lady of Continuing Agony Church?”

“Yes my son…..what can I do for you this fine day?”

“Um…….can ya schedule me for a really long confession session?”

(DONATE) The MisfitWisdom PayPal donate (alms) link is posted below. If it is not highlighted, (blue aura) it might be due to the fact that only non-sinners are able to have that blue aura on their PayPal donate link.  In that case, if you happen to be a sinner such as myself, simply copy and paste it into your browser and it will take you to the PayPal site.  Just drop your donation into the basket. Just like you do on Sundays.

Copyright 2012/2017 MisfitWisdom RLV


And now…..a word from GOD via Joan Osborne:


Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Reprise Sunday….”Cats In Connecticut”

On Sundays I like to dig back into the MisfitWisdom blog file and find a past blog post you may have missed. That, and the fact that I had a nightmare last night that I was a woman and Donald Trump tried to grab my pussy. Which, in turn, reminded me of the following blog about cats. I’m sure you understand the connection.

“Cats In Connecticut”……. TV Reality Show..or “Pussy’s Galore.”

Last week another blogger wrote about her cat. She suspected that it actually might be a terrorist and listed the various reasons why.  I compared notes from her blog and have determined that she’s absolutely correct. Her cat is a terrorist.

That said, it gave me an idea for a new reality show.  After all, we all know reality shows are the rage right now, so what better way to become famous and at the same time make a gazillion bucks than to have one’s own reality show.

I’d call it, “Cats In Connecticut” or, “Pussy’s Galore” after the 1964 movie “Goldfinger” in which Honor Blackman played “Pussy Galore,” and considering that I have five cats, and “galore” means, “a plentiful supply of something,” which in my case is cats, I thought it quite appropriate. I’ll leave the final title up to the shows directors.

Scene 1:

Camera zooms in on Misfit and other half sleeping while three terrorist cats roam the bedroom in an attempt to make enough noise to awaken us. One is assigned to rattle the plastic blind slats. The second cat strategically places itself in front of the digital ceiling clock so that we will not be able to determine the exact time. Cat three rattles the sliding closet door thereby making a noise that sounds like thunder.  Morning wake up time has arrived.

Scene 2:

As both of us stumble out to the kitchen area to prepare the terrorist cats breakfast consisting of putrid smelling God knows what’s inside those cans cat food, meowing commences and jockeying for bowl positions takes place. It is at this point no other human activities can take place. Several episodes of spilling coffee and sugar on the floor while attempting to feed cats has all but ruled that function out.

Scene 3:

Cameras focus in on our morning ritual of reading the morning paper as one or two cats walk across the table in search of human morsels.  From the distance the sound of hacking and barfing can be detected, at which point the director signals to the audio person to delete the “F” and “MF” words from the soundtrack before airing the show.

Scene 4:

Late morning and time to clean the cat litter box, which I always look forward to with great anticipation after having my morning breakfast. It still amazes me to this day how cat poop gathered each morning outweighs the total weight of all five cats when one attempts to scoop it up.  Camera zooms in on my hacking as I attempt to scoop the cat box while two cats stand in line in anticipation of new litter to play in.

Scene 5:

It is mid afternoon and cat nap time.  Both for the cats, myself and my other half. Two sofas, one recliner, one chair and five cat beds are simply not enough as the camera pans the room showing one cat on top of me as I attempt to lie back on the sofa. Second cat is acting as a scarf around my other half’s neck while the third 19 pound cat is at her feet. Cats four and five commandeer a sofa and a recliner while all “made for cats” beds remain empty.

Scene 6:

Supper time is a repeat of breakfast with at least six out of the ten pairs of feline eye balls staring in anticipation of yet another human morsel. My glasses fog up from the closeness of the proximity of the cats in relation to my food and eating utensil. A cat hair or two mingled in with each meal is not an uncommon occurrence. One learns how to detect those quite methodically after a while as much as the cats try to disguise them. This “cat hair” ploy is used to discourage you from eating your dinner thereby securing more morsels for them.

Scene 7:

By far the most exciting part of this reality show is from 7PM to 11Pm when all cats on the face of the universe get into “cat games.”  This consists of knocking things over, which always is out of your line of sight or in another room, and always sounds like something catastrophic is happening.  Barfing in dark corners of the house which is similar to placing hidden mines in a battlefield. Playing in water bowls which I personally think is some sort of cat religious ritual, blessing of the feet or something. Placing their cold wet noses on your butt as you sit on the toilet because cats get a huge rush from doing that. And finally, loud meowing and screeching that sounds like Hannibal Lector is dissecting a body. I swear most of the TV shows that we watch on a nightly basis have meowing in them.

Scene 8, final cut:

Bedtime. A large panoramic type camera is used in this final scene as we attempt to call it a night, slither into bed, (queen size) while three, sometimes four, of the five cats also attempt to slither into bed and, after kneading for 45 minutes, select their final comfortable spot on the bed.  For the next 8 hours we are frozen in position. Quiet…….more quiet….sleep begins to take hold……ahhhhhh.

Off in the far away distance….the faint sound of hacking and barfing. Another typical night at the MisfitWisdom household.

Camera crew packs it in, gathers their equipment, and tip toes out into the night……….

walking verrrrry slowly in the dark so as to avoid any cat barf mine field .

(P.S. This blog was written with the assistance of one of the five cats sitting on top of my computer…..achoooo!….did I mention I have allergies too)

And finally, my favorite cat quote which I’ve said before: “Why is it that cats are only one foot tall but their butts are always in your face?”

Copyright 2011 MisfitWisdom RLV

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

On The Lighter Side, A Reprise Of “Stuff”

Every so often I like to go back and reprise a blog from eons ago, long before the insanity of politics that has overtaken our society today.

So, from March 2011, a bit of “On The Lighter Side.”

Why You’re Forced To Buy STUFF!

Stuff!  You know, all that “stuff” you have in your home that you absolutely needed because you couldn’t live without, and also because if you didn’t buy new “stuff” to replace all of your old “stuff” you’d be out of the loop with all of the newer “stuff” coming out that replaces the original “stuff” you bought.  I’m a bit overstuffed here folks.

But all of this is a giant conspiracy.  I’m the only one who’s uncovered this plot to make us buy stuff.  Where the hell is James O’Keefe when ya need him?

Remember when I wrote about going from 78RPM records to 8-tracks, to cassettes, to CDs then to iPods and then to downloading music on your phone or directly to your computer. SEE!  It’s stuff to replace the stuff you already have.

And as far as I’m concerned the old stuff works just as good as the new stuff but the newer stuff just tweaks the old stuff to make it appear that it’s better to have the newer stuff, otherwise you’re labeled as an out of touch nerd because you’re not using the new stuff.  I say, “stuff it!”

For instance. I’m a bit in the stone age when it comes to recording shows. I (sigh) still use an old VCR that has the indicator light flashing. Works fine for me. I actually still record “stuff” on an old cassette player and sometimes physically touch a 45RPM record. OMG!!

I don’t own a “smart” phone because my “dumb” phone works perfectly fine. I can actually say “hello” when answering it and a person on the other end can hear me. So what the hell do I need a smart phone for?  Oh yeah…so I can text while driving 65mph down the Interstate rather than say, “HELLO.” I assume texting is much easier to do while you’re driving. I could be mistaken.

I’m even dumber when it comes to movies.  Now I don’t go to an actual movie theatre because I subscribe to “Netflix.” Why would I pay seven to twelve dollars plus gas and snacks to go to the movies when I can pay less than ten bucks a month to rent as many movies as I can get my bleeding eyeballs to watch in a months time?  This pisses off the movie theatre people and the movie studios, which is why they’re attempting to screw “Netflix” by holding back on releasing them to “Netflix.”  See…it’s a conspiracy to make you go to the movies.

Just like it’s a conspiracy to make you buy all that new stuff. GPS….I have a damn map. Cable TV……well, that will be a thing of the past when the “stuff” people force you to buy HDTV or require you to watch TV on your computer.  SOBs.

Smart phones you can obviously do everything on, which eliminates most of the other stuff you have. If smart phones are so smart why can’t you have sex with them?  Um…..wait…..I think they’re working on that. Something called, “hand app.”

Books are another thing that these conspiracy plotters are working hard to make obsolete.  Download books onto your Kindle or iPad or pod or whatever and no more turning pages or carrying those heavy books around.  So like, how exactly do you get an author to sign a Kindle book anyhow? And when you’re done with that book, how does it make its way to the Goodwill Store discount shelf? And, suppose you wanna have a book burning, what the hell do ya do….burn your Kindle?  Hmmmm……come to think of it, isn’t “kindle” something they use to start a fire?  Might be on to something there folks.

So ya see, everything, and I mean everything, is eventually going to replace all of the stuff you presently own. It’s a conspiracy I tell ya….a conspiracy. More money for the manufacturers each time they make new stuff to replace the old stuff.

The only exception to this is stuff that you’re married to or dating….female stuff. Or in some instances, male stuff, depending on your own personal option. Either way, your choice. No need to admit to which stuff you prefer here.

I personally would NEVER think of replacing my own female regardless of what new technology comes out in an attempt to replace females.

Unless of course those manufacturers of inflatable dolls manage to perfect a female replica that can be programmed to never have a headache, is programmed to only respond to “yes” when asked to do anything, has no use for money, is very well proportioned, and can be programmed to play my entire collection of oldies at the push of a button….located stragically……and also take my phone messages, act as a GPS system, with no bitching, and can record several TV programs at the same time.

Then I’d be very tempted to then replace all of my stuff.

Sorry dear.

Copyright 2011 MisfitWisdom RLV



Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Willie Loco Alexander, The Velvet Underground and Misfit

Nice article about the Velvet Underground courtesy of “The Daily Beast” My friend Willie Loco Alexander was a member of this group. Check him out on Wikipedia.

Photo Illustration by Sarah Rogers/The Daily Beast


50 Years Later, ‘The Velvet Underground and Nico’ Still Sounds Like the Future

There has never been a rock album more ahead of its time than the Velvet Underground’s singular masterpiece, released 50 years ago this week.

Stereo Williams

Stereo Williams

03.12.17 3:48 AM ET

There is no argument against 1967 as an epochal year in music. Landmarks like Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Are You Experienced?, High Priestess of Soul, Disraeli Gears, I’ve Never Loved A Man the Way I Love You—it was the year that popular artists fully realized the creative potential of the LP and it happened as a generation was discovering its cultural voice. But the year’s boldest musical moment was an album that didn’t appeal to the same sensibilities as idyllic hippie anthems or strutting soul classics—and it wasn’t born of Haight-Asbury, acid freakouts or middling interpretations of Eastern philosophy.

That album was The Velvet Underground and Nico, a uniquely groundbreaking release from a band of artsy New York misfits and marketed by the creative whims of one of the most iconic figures of the time: Andy Warhol. The cornerstone of the Velvet Underground’s image and sound was the songwriting of Lou Reed. A socially-awkward Jewish kid from Long Island, Reed’s musical voice, like so many others, was forged in pop and in pain. He taught himself how to play R&B songs on guitar by listening to the radio, eventually forming a doo-wopish group as a teen. Reed also began suffering panic attacks and after a mental breakdown following his first semester at NYU, his parents submitted him for electroshock therapy.

“Panic attacks and social phobias beset him,” wrote Reed’s sister, Merrill Reed Weiner, in 2015. “He possessed a fragile temperament. His hyper-focus on the things he liked led him to music and it was there that he found himself.”

Reed’s love of music became his guide, and rock ‘n’ roll became his voice. He eventually landed work as a pop songwriter, churning out middling hits for Pickwick Records while composing songs for himself on the side. His approach was to keep things simple and direct.

“I studied classical piano, and the minute I could play something I started writing new things,” Reed said in 2004. “And I switched to guitar and did the same thing. And the nice thing about rock is, besides the fact that I was in love with it, anyone can play that. And to this day anyone can play a Lou Reed song. Anybody. It’s the same essential chords, just various ways of looking at them. There is nothing special about it, and it only becomes special when I can’t do it. When I can’t do it I’m very impressed by the person who can, and when I can do it, it means nothing. But I would write new things from the day I could play anything.”

Reed had been inspired by as much as R&B as pop, and his edgy approach belied a music lover whose tastes were informed by a wide variety of influences.

“There were two sides of the coin for me: That kind of music—R&B, doo-wop, rockabilly. And then Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry, Archie Shepp, stuff like that,” Reed told rock journalist David Fricke in 1989. “When I was in college, I had a jazz radio show. I called it Excursion on a Wobbly Rail, after a Cecil Taylor song. I used to run around the Village following Ornette Coleman wherever he played. There was his song ‘Lonely Woman,’ Charlie Haden’s bass on that [he hums the riff]. Extraordinary.”

What would become the Velvet Underground started in 1964, when Reed met experimental instrumentalist John Cale and formed a band called The Primitives. With Reed on guitar and Cale on virtually everything else, they eventually added guitarist Sterling Morrison and percussionist Angus Maclise. After a short stint as The Falling Spikes, the fledgling quartet dubbed themselves “The Velvet Underground” after Michael Leigh’s book about sexual subculture in the 1960s. After Maclise suddenly left the group prior to their first paying gig, Morrison brought in Maureen Tucker to play drums. With Tucker’s unique approach (she used mallets more than drumsticks and never played cymbals), the Velvet Underground’s classic sound began to come together.

Gigging around New York City, the band eventually was introduced to Andy Warhol and became fixtures at The Factory, his famous studio in the Decker Building on Union Square West. Warhol insisted on becoming their manager, and centered the Velvet Underground in his ambitious pop art roadshow, Exploding Plastic Inevitable, with the VU’s music combined in showcase with experimental films from Warhol and his associates. The exposure raised the band’s profile significantly—despite the fact that Warhol had little-to-no influence on their actual approach or sound and rarely operated as a traditional manager for the band.

“We needed someone like Andy,” John Cale told Rolling Stone in 1971. “He was a genius for getting publicity. Once we were in Providence to play at the Rhode Island School of Design and they sent a TV newsman to talk to us. Andy did the interview lying on the ground with his head propped up on one arm. There were some studded balls with lights shining on them and when the interviewer asked him why he was on the ground, Andy said, ‘So I can see the stars better.’ The interview ended with the TV guy lying flat on his back saying, ‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’”

“I loved him on sight, he was obviously one of us,” said Reed in 2004. “He was right. I didn’t know who he was, I wasn’t aware of any of that, amazingly enough. But he was obviously a kindred spirit if ever there was one, and so smart with charisma to spare. But really so smart. And for a quote ‘passive’ guy, he took over everything. He was the leader, which would be very surprising for a lot of people to work out. He was in charge of us, everyone. You look towards Andy, the least likely person, but in fact the most likely. He was so smart, so talented and 24 hours a day going at it.”

It was Warhol who famously pushed the Velvet Underground to add German model Nico as they worked on their first album—a move that the band resented.

“We were together as a band, and then Nico showed up at the Factory,” said Morrison in 1980. “Andy said, ‘Oh, here we have Nico. Would you like her to sing with you?’ We said, ‘Well, we couldn’t dis-like it.’ That’s how we became the Velvet Underground and Nico. She just came kind of creeping in. We knew that it couldn’t last, because we didn’t have that many songs she could sing. Lou and I cranked out some songs for her. ‘Femme Fatale’—she always hated that. [nasal voice] Nico, whose native language is minority French, would say, ‘The name of this song is ‘Fahm Fahtahl.’ Lou and I would sing it our way. Nico hated that. I said, ‘Nico, hey, it’s my title, I’ll pronounce it my way.’”

“Lou and I were sort of startled,” Cale recalled to Quietus in 2011. “Moe didn’t know what to make of it. And Sterling was harumphing . . . But, y’know, after a little bit, you got to understand Andy, and that was really pure Andy. Everybody suddenly started looking at us in a different way.”

Get The Beast In Your Inbox!
Daily DigestStart and finish your day with the top stories from The Daily Beast.
Cheat SheetA speedy, smart summary of all the news you need to know (and nothing you don’t).
By clicking “Subscribe,” you agree to have read the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy

The VU began recording the album in the spring of 1966 at the ramshackle Scepter Studios in New York City. The original acetate was shopped around to labels and routinely dismissed, prompting the band to re-record several songs. To facilitate a more marketable approach to the music, producer Tom Wilson, who’d produced Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel, was brought in to remix some tracks. In Los Angeles, the Velvet Underground would re-record “Waiting For the Man,” “Venus and Furs” and “Heroin,” a seven-minute composition Lou Reed had begun as far back as 1964. At Wilson’s urging, the band also recorded the more radio-friendly “Sunday Morning.”

“I’d been around studios before, writing and recording these cutout-bin kind of records, trendy songs that sell for ninety-nine cents,” Reed said in 1989. “But Andy absorbed all the flak. Then MGM said they wanted to bring in a real producer, Tom Wilson. So that’s how you got ‘Sunday Morning,’ with all those overdubs—the viola in the back, Nico chanting. But he couldn’t undo what had already been done.”

For all of its visceral feel and focus, the debut album from the Velvet Underground opens with this rather delicate ballad. “Sunday Morning” features Lou Reed cooing in his most preciously girlie voice about “all the streets you cross not so long ago.” The song is a beautiful ode to paranoia (“Watch out—the world’s behind you”), and an early indicator that Reed was capable of remarkably simple melodicism that rivaled the more mainstream songwriters of the era while not directly emulating any of them. “Sunday Morning” was explicitly written to be a single, and is one of the most pop-friendly songs on the album. Wilson wanted the tune to be a showcase for Nico; nonetheless, it was Reed who sang the lilting lead vocal.

The jaggedly jaunty classic “I’m Waiting For the Man” sits somewhere between Bob Dylan, Lead Belly and glam rock, laying a sonic foundation on which David Bowie would build his church (Bowie recorded a live cover in 1972). The soundtrack for a white hipster’s travels uptown to score drugs, Reed’s crass “Hey white boy, what you doin’ uptown?” jive along with the strutting rhythm sounded more urban and streetwise than anything else happening in rock at the time. The declaration of “Man, you gotta split ‘cause he got no time to waste” captured the awkward hastiness of scoring some shit, with Reed’s chugging chords and Morrison’s Cropper-esque guitar lines swerving against the melody throughout.

The dirge-like “Venus In Furs” drips with sex and oozes doom. It’s an S&M-driven masterpiece that features Cale’s dissonant viola set against Maureen Tucker’s thumping drums. Reed’s lyrics are inspired by the novella of the same name—by Austrian author Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (“I didn’t write the book. But what a great book to throw into a song,” Reed would say in 1988), with declarations to “Strike dear mistress, and cure his heart” and references to “Sevrin” who “awaits you there.” The primary narrative of the novella describes the suprasexuality of Severin von Kusiemski, who is smitten with a woman named Wanda von Dunajew and longs to be dominated by her in degrading ways.

The forced addition of Nico adds an off-kilter element to the three songs on which she’s featured. Her icy vocal is best highlighted on the swirling midtempo “Femme Fatale,” a song inspired by Warhol superstar Edie Sedgwick. Warhol had requested Reed write a dedication to Sedgwick specifically, and “Femme Fatale” would be the first of many Reed compositions inspired by personalities he’d met at Warhol’s Factory. Reed’s observations of the people at Warhol’s Factory also inspired the Nico-led “All Tomorrow’s Parties.” Cale’s repetitive piano drives the melancholy feel, as the lyrics detail a sad woman who has lost her family. She was among the personalities Reed had encountered around Warhol.

Despite Reed’s declaration that “if anybody played a blues lick [in the band], they would be fined,” “Run Run Run” sounds like Slim Harpo sitting in with a garage band, with a driving rhythm turned on its ear and driven dissonant with Morrison’s jagged leads and Reed’s abrasive solo. It’s another song focused squarely on New York City junkie life, with lyrics that detail strung-out characters Teenage Mary, Margarita Passion, Seasick Sarah, and Beardless Harry, who need to “get a fix” and “rode the trolleys down to 47” to “get himself to heaven.”

“There She Goes Again” is the album’s most explicitly R&B-influenced track; the opening guitar rhythm is directly lifted from Marvin Gaye’s 1962 hit “Hitch Hike” and the backing vocals are straightforward harmonizing—or at least as close to it as the Velvet Underground got. Reed’s lyrics focus on the daily life of a prostitute: “She’s out on the streets again / She’s down on her knees, my friend / But you know she’ll never ask you please again.” The song never presents the woman as a tragic figure. In keeping with many of Reed’s characters, her life is just a reflection of reality—not a cautionary tale: “Now take a look, there’s no tears in her eyes / Like a bird, you know she would fly, what can you do / You see her walkin’ on down the street / Look at all your friends that she’s gonna meet…”

Nico’s vocals on “I’ll Be Your Mirror” became a source of frustration for Morrison and Reed. The German model seemed to be adamant in singing the song aggressively, which neither of the band members felt was suitable. After Morrison decided that they would scrap the song if she couldn’t get it right, Nico sang the final vocal in one take. It would be one of the first commercially available songs by the Velvet Underground—a single that was released in July 1966, almost a year before the album itself.

Cale’s experimentalism was at the core of “The Black Angel’s Death Song,” with dissonant viola and droning rhythms. The Chuck Berry-esque guitar riff repeats early on and slowly descends into avant-noise with feedback and distortion—as well as a crash of plates, courtesy of Cale—with Reed singing dismissive lyrics aimed at writer Delmore Schwartz, who was a mentor to Reed during the rocker’s time at Syracuse University. The lyrics don’t directly mention Schwartz, but original pressings of the album titled the track “European Son (Dedication to Delmore Schwartz.)”

One of the most harrowing and beautiful drug songs ever recorded, “Heroin” is an epic that seems to define the album. Opening with Reed’s distinctively melodic guitar lines and building into a cacophony of sound that evokes the rush of shooting up, it was a daring record—even during the “mind expanding” rhetoric of the 1960s. Hippie bands were singing about marijuana and LSD, but the darkness and danger of heroin was something else entirely. The element of release was there, but this was a harder addiction—something that the idealistic flower-power crowd hadn’t broached on record. Reed relished standing apart from what was supposedly the counterculture of the time.

In a 1987 interview, he told Joe Smith, “When [bands] did try to get, in quotes, ‘arty,’ it was worse than stupid rock ‘n’ roll,” he said. “What I mean by ‘stupid,’ I mean, like, the Doors. I never liked the Beatles, I thought they were garbage. If you say, ‘Who did you like?’ I liked nobody.”

The Velvet Underground’s “artsy outsider” ethos and fiercely New York image went against the grain in 1967, but their association with Andy Warhol kept the band’s profile relatively high for an act that was never very mainstream. The weight of Warhol’s image over the band came to be something that the Velvet Underground chafed against—especially after The Velvet Underground and Nico was released with the “produced by Andy Warhol” tag on the sleeve.

Cale fully understood the power of Warhol’s vision when the he saw what would become the iconic album cover for The Velvet Underground and Nico. The inspiration was purely spontaneous and indicative of how Warhol saw high art in the everyday. Warhol had noticed a magazine in the waiting room at an earlier doctor’s appointment; there was an ad inside that featured a banana with a peel-away sticker that revealed the nutrients in a banana. “He called me over and showed me: this is the album cover,” Cale told music publication The Quietus in 2011. “He said ‘What do you think of this as an album cover?’ I thought it was amazing.”

The Velvet Underground and Nico was finally released on March 12, 1967, but a pending lawsuit from actor Eric Emerson (his image was inadvertently featured in the background of the album’s back sleeve, in a photo of the band performing) led to it being shelved briefly and redistributed that summer. With the Summer of Love in full swing and much of the world fawning over Jimi Hendrix’s Are You Experienced? and the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper…, The Velvet Underground and Nico barely made a commercial dent. Shortly thereafter, the band broke from Warhol. And Nico, always viewed as a temporary affiliate of the Velvet Underground as opposed to an actual member, went her own way. She would release six solo albums before her death in 1988.

The Velvet Underground, of course, would release three more seminal albums, White Light/White Heat, their eponymous 1969 album, and 1970’s Loaded, before ultimately deteriorating (Cale would leave after White Light/White Heat and be replaced by Doug Yule; Reed and Morrison left the band after Loaded.) Cale would become one of the world’s most highly-regarded experimental rock artists, and Reed would go on to a legendary solo career, becoming one of the most revered rock songwriters of his generation before his death in 2013.

Brian Eno famously said in 1982 that “the first Velvet Underground album only sold 10,000 copies, but everyone who bought it formed a band,” and it doesn’t feel like hyperbole. With the benefit of hindsight, the most mythologized album of 1967, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, looks more like a relic of the Summer of Love and an exercise in pretentious pomposity. Conversely, The Velvet Underground and Nico looks more like the future of rock music. With its embrace of dissonant sounds, unapologetically gritty subject matter and simplistic rhythms and songwriting, the album is a jumping-off point for virtually every form of “alternative” music that would take hold over the next 30 years. Glam, punk, noise rock, art rock, ’80s college rock—it all seemed to draw from something established on The Velvet Underground and Nico. There has never been a rock album more ahead of its time.

In many ways, the world is still catching up to it.

Image000 - Copy (3) - Copy

Willie Loco Alexander

Willie circa 1956 in my basement long before he became a member of the Velvet Underground.




Posted in current events humor, Uncategorized | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Counting The Days To Impeachment


Obviously a fake or alternative document

As you all know I’ve (agonizingly) refrained from blogging about The President (who shall remain unnamed) because it just drives me bonkers to even watch him, let alone write about him. So, that said, which I just did, I’m simply sitting back and counting the days till our Führer is impeached.

Hey……if Bill Clinton can be impeached for getting a damn blow job, WTF, at some point something will catch up to the unnamed President.

Soooo, what have I been doing instead of posting facts when I see a story on-line, which as we all know tend to cloud up the issues we all face in the political arena today. Damn those pesky facts.facts

Lets see.

Spending time watching other people (bloggers, FB  and Twitter people going berserk.

Good luck with that. As I said bloggers…..facts do not matter.

But, takes the pressure off of me having to post facts and some brain-dead idiot post an intelligent response like, “But what about liar Hillary or Bill’s blow job.”

Hmmmmm…… getting a blow job really a bad thing? Oh yeah, (gasp) Bill lied about getting a blow job. Specifically, (for fact checkers) about having an affair.

Or, “Ah did not have sex with that woman.”

BUT……did you get a blow job?

“Um, er, well yes but ya didn’t ask me that!”bj2

Kinda like…….(under oath) “Mr. Sessions have you ever met with a Russian official.”

“Um…….not that I recall.”


“Mr. Sessions we have proof you actually met with a Russian official.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh. You said “Russian Official.” I thought you asked if I ever met with an official and was rushed.”sessions

Anyhow….so much for that.

Soooo, as I was saying, before getting sidetracked, I watch other bloggers etc. Visit my local casino because they give old coots like me free slot play every week. Promote my books, specifically “Forgotten” my most recent book about two WWII pilots killed over my town in 1944 in a mid-air crash.

Plan my Spring yard activities. Which are, in order:

  1. Build a giant wall to keep litter from flowing into my yard and have my Mexican neighbors across the street pay for it.

    HEYYYYYY! Great idea for an album cover.....ya think?

    HEY! Great idea for an album cover…..ya think?

  2. Add an extra four feet to my outdoor shed with funds obtained selling cats that I dyed orange who I named after the President.

    Um....geez....can't ya do better than this!!!

    Um….geez….can’t ya do better than this!!!

  3. Make giant signs with my name on it and tack them up on my mailbox, shed, truck, grass, house, driveway, trees, and any stray animals on my property as that unnamed person does. Hey… for him.Misfit was here bathroom graffiti
  4. Plant a lot of new trees in my yard. I figure if “HE” defunds the EPA trees will be a rarity after they all die off from pollution and I’ll make a killing selling MY trees.tree
  5. Build a dome over my yard to protect the trees from pollution. Cept for those damn Maple trees that get sap all over my truck.


    Available at CVS and Wal-Mart

  6. Build a new bird house that resembles the White House. My old one has a lot of bird poop on it……so……I thought it fitting under the circumstances that if would be a source of comfort for me to have birds poop on the new one…..considering……if ya catch my drift.poop1
  7. Considering the latest news from fake news that Obama bugged, as Orange Head would say, “tappd” his hotel, I’m  installing wiretaps on MY phone because I think someone else, probably the Russians, or telemarketers have tapped my phone so I’m going to “tapp” every phone in my neighborhood just to see if I can find out who’s leaking information to telemarketers, or the Russians, on what I buy at because how the hell can ya explain the fact I keep getting calls on my phone or on my computer wanting to sell me stuff they think I might be interested in.



Ok……enough of this. The casino callith.

Yep….nobody there gives a big rats ass about politics.

My kinda place.





Posted in current events humor | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

I Was Freakin’ 100% Correct When I Wrote This Blog

Yep……(patting myself on the back, which is not easy to do, but I will anyway)
Back on February 17, 2016 I wrote the following blog:

Playboy Magazine Just F**KED Themselves…….AND….No Nudity Was Involved Either.


Titillating but…no tits…(soreeeeeee….couldn’t pass up on that one)

For once the dog is right.....

For once the dog is right…..


Yep….for the most part, sex involves nudity. I SAID……for the most part.

There ARE exceptions, but I’m not gonna go there.

Instead I’m gonna go to Playboy Magazine, who, since the beginning of time, um, well, at least since the beginning of MY time, has always featured nudity in their magazine. I believe “MY TIME” began in 1956 when Playboy featured Marilyn Monroe as their first nude layout.playboy marilyn cover

Soooo, fast forward to 2016 when Playboy, in all of its infinite wisdom decided to drop nudity altogether.


So, what do you wind up with? A glorified spinoff of “Maxim” and “Esquire” magazines.

As Steven Colbert of Comedy Central said on one of his shows with regard to reading Playboy, “Now men can really say they’re reading it strictly for the articles.”


Articles? What articles?

Now all that said, which I just did, I completely understand that many of you will have differing opinions. BUT….because this is MY blog and this is MY opinion, deal with it.

Now why do I personally think Playboy is, pardon the expression, “f**ked?”

Well, simple, it WAS a classy men’s magazine that yes, had nudity within its pages, which, if you are a male, contributed to the enjoyment of reading the magazine. Not only for the nudity, which I might add was always in good taste, (no hard-core stuff) but YES….YES…..for, (believe it or not) the articles, which were cutting edge and very informative.

Sure, when I was a mere child, and had no access to boobs, like every teenager, or younger, I would rip off a copy of Playboy, scurry back to my bedroom and ogle the photos. I really didn’t give a rats ass at that age WTF else was in the magazine. As did most of my friends as well.

But, as I grew older I truly enjoyed the articles, cartoons, interviews, jokes, finding the hidden Playboy rabbit logo and yes, the nudity.


At Hef’s age….I actually believe him

Again….”the nudity” was the keystone of Playboy for many years and perhaps its attraction.

It’s like having the main character from one of your favorite TV shows leave. It’s never really the same.

And men, let’s face it, all of us, me included, fantasize about women naked. The nature of the beast. Us being the beasts.

And, we all (men) fantasize about our favorite celebrities naked. Go ahead, deny it, and if ya do, you’re a freakin’ liar.

Playboy fulfilled those fantasies by allowing us to actually see some of those celebrities in the buff. Tastefully of course. And yes, airbrushed, as in some celebrities who were past their prime, such as Nancy Sinatra, Terry Moore, etc.

Nancy Sinatra

Nancy Sinatra

Terry Moore

Terry Moore

I myself have opted not to renew my subscription to Playboy. My way of protesting that stupid move to eliminate nudity. Do they actually think their decision to eliminate nudity is going to attract more subscribers? I thinkith notith.

Are there any other options? Not really. I mentioned Maxim and Esquire but I much preferred Playboy. So, now I’m relegated to just being titillated, (love that word) by AARP Magazine. (sigh)

Just shoot me now.....

Just shoot me now…..

One final point here. I acknowledge the fact that on any give moment one can go on the Internet and find any kind of nudity they want to. If you’re into that stuff. But, those sites are strictly nudity with absolutely no class at all.

Playboy Magazine had class. Now that the corporate dummies have taken over they may still have “class” but in dumping the “in good taste nudity” will pay the price. The “price” being that no one in their right mind is gonna pay the “price” for their magazine to get the same thing you can get in Esquire or Maxim.

Remember that old saying, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

 Fast forward to today February 13, 2017 AD
Sooooooooo. guess what my fine (nude) feathered friends.booby bird bra
Playboy Is Bringing Back Nudity a Year After Pledging to Stop Publishing Naked Pictorials

Playboy is returning to its original form. (patting myself on the back again)

Here’s today’s news release:

The magazine announced that nudity will, again, be featured on its pages on Monday – starting with the March/April 2017 issue, titled Naked Is Normal.

Chief Creative Officer Connor Hefner – the 25-year-old son of Hugh Hefner – simultaneously tweeted, “I’ll be the first to admit that the way in which the magazine portrayed nudity was dated, but removing it entirely was a mistake. Nudity was never the problem because nudity isn’t a problem. Today, we’re taking our identity back and reclaiming who we are.”

In fall 2015, then-Playboy CEO Scott Flanders announced that the magazine would no longer publish nude photoshoots of women.

Cory Jones, chief content officer of Playboy, told the New York Times that the nudity-free makeover was meant to make the magazine “a little more accessible, a little more intimate.”

Hefner, 90, first published Playboy in 1953 with Marilyn Monroe on the cover and in risqué photos inside. In the years that followed, Playboy became known for its full-frontal pictorials.

RELATED VIDEO: Kendra Wilkinson Isn’t Hiding Her Playboy Past From Her Kids

The new return to nudity won’t be quite as NSFW, though, with the March/April issue only displaying breasts and butts, according to the New York Post.

Elizabeth Elam is the March/April cover star. She was photographed by Gavin Bond for the issue, which is on newsstands now.

Now, after once again patting myself on the back for being soooooo right, if I could only predict Wednesday’s Powerball numbers.

Misfit Wisdom 2017

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment

Kellyanne Conway’s Facts of Alternative Facts*

*Subtitled: I Can’t Believe I’m Actually Saying These Things and Those Idiot Trump Supporters Are Buying Into It.kellyanne1

George Washington did not chop down that cherry tree and then confess to his father by saying, “I cannot tell a lie.” What actually happened is that the cherry tree actually fell down and George felt this was an opportunity to cash in on his image by confessing to his father that he chopped it down so that he would appear to be an honest kid when if fact he was an opportunistic lying SOB.gw3

Abraham Lincoln was not born in a log cabin. He was actually raised in what was to become the first condo complex made out of log cabins located on the South side of Illinois which was manufactured by the Lincoln Log Company which his father owned.

Abe's original condo unit

Abe’s original condo unit

Thomas Dewey actually did win the presidency against Harry Truman but because the lying mainstream media reversed that headline the next day that Truman had actually won the election people believed them and told Dewey to get lost and they ran him out of town on a rail.

Alternative fact

Alternative fact

John F. Kennedy’s famous speech “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country” was changed from “Ask not what you can do for your country, but what can your country do for you.” (original JFK speech was written by Melania Trump -yet another alternative unknown fact)melania1

George Orwell’s book, “1984” was actually first called “2017” but he changed it figuring we’d all be dead by 2017 because some idiot President would be elected somewhere between late 2016 and 2017, which makes sense to me because he had a vision Hillary Clinton would be President in a dream he had one night. The following evening he had the same exact dream only he saw Donald Trump as President and went with naming the book “2017” but his publisher rejected that title as being too far-fetched considering nobody would know who TF either of those two people were. (I think Orwell’s headstone says, “I Told Ya So”)orwell

Donald Trump, my boss, and, I’ll remind you, THE PRESIDENT! never said he’d like to grab pussy. He said, “I love to grab pussycats because they’re so soft and furry.”


Unless there’s another hot pussy around

Emperor Trump’s birthday is NOT June 14, 1946 as the media falsely claims. Because we Republicans and right to lifers believe life begins at conception Donald’s birthday is actually October 14, 1945 which, is yet another alternative fact if you consider that is 9 months earlier than June.

My hair is outta place

My hair is outta place


Much has been said about press secretary Sean Spicer telling the press to “shut up.” Once again the mainstream media got it wrong taking things out of context. Mr. Spicer was actually talking into his hidden microphone to his aides in the back room who were feeding him answers to questions the press was asking. Unable to hear the press and his aides at the same time he said, “shut up.”alternative-facts

In conclusion, there is such a thing as “alternative facts” which Kellyanne stated at one of her press conferences. Alternative facts are facts that are alternative to facts that are not actually facts but facts that can be altered to reflect alternative facts that show that facts cannot be taken seriously unless one first examines the alternative facts to see if they make more sense than facts which sometime, in most cases, are not actually facts and can be proven wrong by simply listening to alternative facts. And that IS a fact. Or, an alternative one.

Unless their alternative facts

Unless they’re alternative facts

Hope this clears everything up for ya folks.

Meanwhile………………….The Most Popular Part of New York: 'Trump-Free Zone.'

MisfitWisdom 2017

Posted in current events humor, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment