AT LAST, my shipment has arrived! I’m very happy to announce the NORMALS™ magnetic alphabet sets. They look fantastic!
Have you ever wanted to spell out a word on your fridge with some funny looking magnetic letters using the alphabet of the English language? Well, that’s my idea. And because some of you might wanna spell words that have the same letter twice, or sometimes even 3 TIMES, there’s a discount if you buy more all at once.
Each darling little letter stands about 1 3/4″ tall and has a personality all its own! They can make even the dullest words interesting. Make spelling fun again!
I’ll ship out each order the next day.
Thank you for your continued dependence on me for your fridge magnet needs.
X1 set – $14
X2 sets – $20
x3 sets – $25
I plan to organize this better into my store, but I’m just so excited I had to post this now.
I’m reading The Basketball Diaries atm (never read it before, surprisingly), and I’m inspired to make an entry. A memory I think of often but never wrote about.
Back in 1985 this was my grandparent’s house (where I live now) and this is where we came every year for 4th of July. And at this time I was really into the band Frankie goes to Hollywood. RELAX was #1 on the charts and I was listening to Welcome to the Pleasure Dome (a great album btw) on my walkman while laying in bed staring at this same ceiling, absorbing every note and word. I would have been 17, and a strong believer in God above. I was sure. I mean, I didn’t LOVE Him, or read the Bible or like church all that much, except for the youth events with all my friends, but I really believed in God, and the Devil, and spirits and the other dimension they all got here from.
This all took place during what’s referred to now as the “Satanic Panic”. Churches and mothers and Tipper Gore and everyone were declaring war on rock-n-roll and MTV for all the Satanic influences coded into the music kids like me were consuming. I was hearing sermons on Sunday about it. Our youth pastors were bringing Led Zeppelin and KISS albums to church to show us how if you held them up to a mirror in a certain way there’s an image of the devil there in the art. All popular music was on the chopping block; Madonna, Twisted Sister, all heavy metal, and of course Frankie Goes to Hollywood. I still remember on one of these Wednesdays our youth pastor Fritz looking to us kids for examples in what we’re listening to, and my buddy Bill explained, “I listen to Huey Lewis, but that song isn’t about drugs. It’s about wanting that feeling you get when you’re around the girl you love!” Huey Lewis, for Christ’s sake. Lol
Anyhow, 17 year old me is laying on that bed with Frankie (Holly Johnson) singing his evils into my virgin ears, and my brain clicked. Satanic Panic, just as it’d been taught. I started to feel, and even believe I was seeing the evil that album had summoned. I remember looking around that room thinking, “Even though they’re invisible, I can feel evil spirits all around! Just like at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark!”
During the song “Welcome to the Pleasure Dome” there’s a slowed-down voice repeating the line “WELCOME TO THE PLEASURE DOME! WELLLCOME!” just like Jabba the Hut! I was genuinely scared. Alone in this room with a whole bunch of demons swirling around me, to the music. Subliminal messages conjuring up perversions of every sort! I consciously allowed my emotions to get swept up in the whole experience in hopes, I think, to actually see something. I wanted to really experience this mysterious thing I’d been told about. And it worked! Mind you, it wasn’t enough for me to turn it off and throw the cassette out the window, but emotionally I was shook. I never really saw what I thought I should, but when I closed my eyes I was able to visualize that moment in Raiders and convince myself “Yup, that’s real.”
It fucked with my head for a while. I tried to recreate the experience at home, but never to the same effect. By that time I’d listened to it too many times, and somehow the familiarity with it and my own bedroom was enough to prevent further fantastical hallucinations in that direction. Now I understand how music can stir your mind and emotions to such a degree. I’m sure I shared this experience in some way or another with the Wednesday group. It’s one of the best methods I had to grasp at coveted popularity there. Stories like that work every time at church youth group.
These last several years I’ve been drawing, almost exclusively, portraits. Portraits of famous people; artists, actors, authors I admire. The last two I completed were John Waters and Aubrey Plaza. For some reason after that I felt totally dried up on the subject. I’d just recently found myself single and w/no intentions of changing this status in the near or distant future. With plenty of emotional time to fill I needed something else to draw, FAST.
So back when I was a teenager, the things I drew, most often in a classroom on the blank side of a worksheet or test paper, were googly eyed things. It’s a subject that never left me uninspired. And that’s what I resorted to at the end of August, 2024.
I drew this Bouquet Of Frogs, and I really liked it! So then I did another, Abiogenisis, which actually got comments from people who saw it over my shoulder at the coffee shop. It’s like they’ve just been sitting around waiting to be drawn.
A couple pages a week. Practicing my pen & ink, keeping every line neat and exact. I enjoyed seeing what each would turn out to be even though I saw no use for them other than filling another page in the book. They evolved into decorative borders. After several of these, I realized I had to do the alphabet.
Normals™ 2024
Then I said, “These are neato! If I weren’t me I’d want these as magnets so as to spell things funny on MY fridge sometimes!” … is indeed what I said to myself. Thus born the Normals. Yesterday I sent them to print as magnets. In a couple months I’ll have them to put up for sale, and I’m excited. February sometime. So say hi. They’re Normals.
Yesterday while I was drawing here at the coffeeshop, a guy came over and asked what my tattoos meant. I noticed immediately the cross necklace he was wearing, but he was being very non-confrontational. Polite and friendly. Above each elbow I have a pointy tailed red devil crucified on a cross. I’ve given many different answers to this question in the past.
One time at the amusement park Michigan Adventure I was with my niece and nephews when a lady behind us in line abruptly stated “Is that a devil on a cross? That’s not right. What do those mean??” Not wanting to cause drama there in front of the kids I responded with, “It’s the devil, because that’s who SHOULD be nailed to the cross!” Sorta shocked, she said, “Oh, well, I guess I can get behind that.” And nothing more was said. My brother right after said, “That was slick.”
You can bet that back in the day when this happened in NYC I had no qualms getting loud and proud about my non belief. But I’ve calmed since. So I asked him if he wanted the quick answer because it’s kind of a deep topic. “I just wanna hear what it means to you. I don’t mind whatever. We’re all adults here.” My explanation went pretty much like this: “I was raised Christian, and taught that people’s wrongs, their sins, could be put onto someone else to pay for. I don’t believe that anymore. It’s a bad concept, taking your bad deeds and pushing them onto someone or something else who pays the price instead of you. Shifting the blame. In no way does that work. It defeats the whole purpose of punishment. It’s a scapegoat. So it’s crusifying the scapegoat.”
I told him how there’s some cultures where hey take a goat or a cow and the whole village puts all their bad deeds into the animal and they eat it, or banish it from town. Then all the people are cleaned of their wrongs. Jesus on the cross is just another version of that. And it’s not real. I understand why people want it to be true, but it’s just scapegoating.”
I could feel it churning up inside me to babble on and on, but I stopped there. He responded to me with “Thank you for that. I understand what you mean. I always enjoy hearing someone else’s perspective. Thank you.” Then we shook hands and that was all.
It was later I realized, yup, they’re crucified scapegoats.
And as I sit here now writing this, I’m overhearing two guys at a table next to me talking excitedly about their new church and how they’re trying to get more people to attend. All I can think about is how eager people are to be convinced of scapegoating, and this will surely draw in people who want it.
