These Idle Hands....
Off of work again today, puttzin around on the zine. I actually have work tomorrow, but who knows for how long? Sent my resume to a screen printing place that has an ad up on Craig's List. They had no number to call, nor did they list the name of their company, so I had to do things the new-fashioned, impersonal way. I don't meet all the requirements of the job, but hopefully my resume can portray how much I would like to learn the things I don't know...probably not though. Oh well, I did what I could.
-Re-reading the Panzram book for a 3rd time and will be done with it today. It's probably taken me less than a full work day to finish it. It's that good. Here's an excerpt:
...This scheme worked fine for about a couple of months and then the kids began to point their fingers at me and yell "reform school" every time I passed by. Then I started knocking their blocks off every time I could catch one alone. They told their parents who told mine who in turn told the German preacher to do his duty by me. He did. He started whipping me fairly regular, but I was a pretty big boy and very strong and one day when he started beating me, I came back at him and gave him a good scrap, but he was too much for me so he won that time. But I had learned a thing or two by then. One of them was a little piece of poetry by Colonel Colt:
Be a man either great or small in size,
Colonel Colt will equalize.
With that idea in my mind I looked around until I found a kid who had a big, old-fashioned, heavy caliber Colt pistol. I got it. The next day at daylight I stole one of my brother's vests, put the big pistol in the inside pocket and went to school, the first crack out of the box after school opened up I gave the preacher-teacher warning to lay off of me or I would fix him. I guess he took it for granted that I was bluffing or incapable of carrying out my threats, so instead of leaving me alone he immediately got his whip and ordered me to the front for punishment. I refused to leave my seat. He came down and tried to pull me out but I held on with both hands and feet. The he started beating me over the head and shoulders with the whip, at the same time yanking at my coat and vest collar to pull me up. The buttons on the vest gave out before I did. The preacher gave a yank. The buttons on the vest tore loose and the pistol fell on the ground and the preacher with it. He fell on his big, fat caboose with his mouth wide open and his eyes as big as saucers. He was paralyzed with surprise and fear. All he could say was, "Mein Gott, a gun, a gun." I was not surprised or afraid. I was mad as hell. I jumped out of my seat, grabbed the gun and pointed it at him right between the horns and pulled the trigger two or three time but it wouldn't go off. The school was in an uproar, and during the excitement I figured it was a good time for me to go somewhere else.
That was written by Panzram about his days at a German Lutheran school. He was 11 or 12. It may seem fantastic for someone this young to be that rash, angry and determined, but 98% of the tales he tells in the book are researched and checked and all the ones they could gather info or records on are full of nothing but truth. He doesn't only write about the people and places he's killed, burned, raped, etc... He also talks a lot about prison and school reform and surprisingly has a lot of the same ideas as people I would consider to "have a good head on their shoulders." It's worth more than a read and I recommend it to anyone and everyone: Panzram a Journal of Murder - Gaddis and Long ISBN: 1-878923-14-5
-I'm bad with money, keeping track of it and all of that. So yesterday I bought a ledger-style notebook to keep track of my spending and saving. So far so good. I do believe I will keep it up. More or less every cent I spend or earn will be documented. It's far past due that I do this.
-I dropped off some zines and such at Cool Hand Luc's. I hear stories of people who, once they complete a new issue of their zine, take it to places of interest around town (comic shops, record stores, coffee shops) and was always envious. But, now I'm one of them and I'm happy. I also feel a good amount of pride seeing that all the stuff in the local box at the coffee shop, I have had a hand in in someway. It's all stuff that either me or my close group of friends, my click, if you will, has produced. Up the Ft. Myers punks for sure.
-PANZRAM(the band) played in Tampa on 1/1/11 with NATURAL LAW, NAZI DUST and CHURCH WHIP - all good bands, but a very boring show...except for the 'slow skanking' that went on during our set. We, by the way, killed it. It was, in my opinion, the best we've played and for sure the best I've ever felt playing. I couldn't hit my drums hard enough. I wanted to destroy them entirely and fought the urge to just stab through them with the sticks. The new songs went off with out a hitch and I was proud as hell of them. If all shows could be like that I would abandon all the bullshit and just play and tour all the time. But alas, such a scenario doesn't exist.
-Now, I'm drinking iced tea, killing time, typing away and kind of working on the zine. So damn lazy.
-Re-reading the Panzram book for a 3rd time and will be done with it today. It's probably taken me less than a full work day to finish it. It's that good. Here's an excerpt:
...This scheme worked fine for about a couple of months and then the kids began to point their fingers at me and yell "reform school" every time I passed by. Then I started knocking their blocks off every time I could catch one alone. They told their parents who told mine who in turn told the German preacher to do his duty by me. He did. He started whipping me fairly regular, but I was a pretty big boy and very strong and one day when he started beating me, I came back at him and gave him a good scrap, but he was too much for me so he won that time. But I had learned a thing or two by then. One of them was a little piece of poetry by Colonel Colt:
Be a man either great or small in size,
Colonel Colt will equalize.
With that idea in my mind I looked around until I found a kid who had a big, old-fashioned, heavy caliber Colt pistol. I got it. The next day at daylight I stole one of my brother's vests, put the big pistol in the inside pocket and went to school, the first crack out of the box after school opened up I gave the preacher-teacher warning to lay off of me or I would fix him. I guess he took it for granted that I was bluffing or incapable of carrying out my threats, so instead of leaving me alone he immediately got his whip and ordered me to the front for punishment. I refused to leave my seat. He came down and tried to pull me out but I held on with both hands and feet. The he started beating me over the head and shoulders with the whip, at the same time yanking at my coat and vest collar to pull me up. The buttons on the vest gave out before I did. The preacher gave a yank. The buttons on the vest tore loose and the pistol fell on the ground and the preacher with it. He fell on his big, fat caboose with his mouth wide open and his eyes as big as saucers. He was paralyzed with surprise and fear. All he could say was, "Mein Gott, a gun, a gun." I was not surprised or afraid. I was mad as hell. I jumped out of my seat, grabbed the gun and pointed it at him right between the horns and pulled the trigger two or three time but it wouldn't go off. The school was in an uproar, and during the excitement I figured it was a good time for me to go somewhere else.
That was written by Panzram about his days at a German Lutheran school. He was 11 or 12. It may seem fantastic for someone this young to be that rash, angry and determined, but 98% of the tales he tells in the book are researched and checked and all the ones they could gather info or records on are full of nothing but truth. He doesn't only write about the people and places he's killed, burned, raped, etc... He also talks a lot about prison and school reform and surprisingly has a lot of the same ideas as people I would consider to "have a good head on their shoulders." It's worth more than a read and I recommend it to anyone and everyone: Panzram a Journal of Murder - Gaddis and Long ISBN: 1-878923-14-5
-I'm bad with money, keeping track of it and all of that. So yesterday I bought a ledger-style notebook to keep track of my spending and saving. So far so good. I do believe I will keep it up. More or less every cent I spend or earn will be documented. It's far past due that I do this.
-I dropped off some zines and such at Cool Hand Luc's. I hear stories of people who, once they complete a new issue of their zine, take it to places of interest around town (comic shops, record stores, coffee shops) and was always envious. But, now I'm one of them and I'm happy. I also feel a good amount of pride seeing that all the stuff in the local box at the coffee shop, I have had a hand in in someway. It's all stuff that either me or my close group of friends, my click, if you will, has produced. Up the Ft. Myers punks for sure.
-PANZRAM(the band) played in Tampa on 1/1/11 with NATURAL LAW, NAZI DUST and CHURCH WHIP - all good bands, but a very boring show...except for the 'slow skanking' that went on during our set. We, by the way, killed it. It was, in my opinion, the best we've played and for sure the best I've ever felt playing. I couldn't hit my drums hard enough. I wanted to destroy them entirely and fought the urge to just stab through them with the sticks. The new songs went off with out a hitch and I was proud as hell of them. If all shows could be like that I would abandon all the bullshit and just play and tour all the time. But alas, such a scenario doesn't exist.
-Now, I'm drinking iced tea, killing time, typing away and kind of working on the zine. So damn lazy.