Thursday, April 29, 2010

The Adventures of Captain Canada

The adventures of Captain Canada, and his loyal sidekick Brother Andre, who battle the hostile forces of unregulated banking practices and other trans-national policy issues across a global stage. Not front and centre of the stage, like the vulgar Americans, but somewhat stage right, next to the plastic Palm trees, you can find Canada, standing ready, on guard.

Yes. Captain Canada is standing on guard, somewhere, making sure that all the northern-most peoples are safe in their beds tonight. His pursuit and battles with a galaxy of super-criminals are the stuff of legend. His laundry list of evil-doers includes such human wreckage as Dark “Dick” Tarken, Radical Reclaimists, the Far Right-Winger, Medical Marijuana Man, The Shark Jumpers, T.O.M. The Older Man, Socialist “Cash” Register, Vital Man (friend of T.O.M.), The Pun Groksters, The Original Cheezlings, Ms. Varicose Vanity, Dr. McNasty,and little Snotty Sneeze are all “free love” type traitors deadly to the Canadian cause of peace, order, and good government.

His is a lonely vigil and he finds himself trapped in his solitude until the next enemy of the state appears or, occasionally, a friend drops by for coffee and conversation. He suspects his limited number of friends is due, perhaps, to an over mannered ego and some basic, overt, paranoid tendencies but more likely is a result of his actual friends who are among the most loathed entities pn the planet. Captain Canada has only two friends that he can rely on amidst hostile waters on every shore and they are the pair known as Uncle S.A.M. and The Brutish Bulldog and they have been Captain Canada’s staunchest allies from the beginning.

In the period right after the Second Great War (W.W.II), from 1946 to 1963, Captain Canada was known to all and beloved by many. Before the debt-laden rot of failed enterprise collapsed the financial infrastructure of the post-war empires of the Allies they were alot of fun. Whether “making automobiles,” “establishing Israel”, or “killing Iraqis” these two bosom buddies were known for their extraordinary loyalty to the point of exoneration. No wonder, together they co-invented the Atomic Bomb, with Canada, and as a point of order dropped two on Japan but aimed those weapons squarely at stopping the Great Expansionist Bear of Mother Russia.

The Bulldog, having dispatched the “Nig-Nogs” years before now refer to their inferiors, if at all, as those foreign devils and does strenuously apply all matter of tax and tariff preventing certain invasion. Uncle S.A.M. (Surface-to-Air-Missiles) has also dealt a weaker hand to all the other, vulnerable, continents and by the mid-Twentieth Century had enshrined some very uncivil rites into the fabric of their local society. Captain Canada, once a friend of the Third World, is a now considered a turncoat nation known more for cuts to foreign aid and clawbacks of international assistance than for the generous spirit of the post-war era. Try and understand the revulsion of the African nations who continue to observe and report the rape of their continent.

This triumphant trio of state sponsored adventurism is on a quest to maintain a positive spin on “peak oil” or “earnings-to-share ratios” and have little motivation to change. Using a deft combination of high touch technology and nuclear brinksmanship this unholy Trinity have  installed their currencies as de facto standards of global commerce especially in trade of oil, which is the lifes blood of all three linked economies. In the first decade of the Twenty-First Century, their wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Mexico with Moslem insurgencies cropping up in Chechnya, Indonesia, the Philippines, New York and London, sandblasting their respective exonomies and with new threats emerging every day, the climate, or the current zeitgeist, on the set of Captain Canada is fearful, paranoid, and completely  in denial.

Saturday, April 24, 2010


a painter sees through darkness to work shadow
light escapes her brush as they follow flow to form

a sculptor shapes, dexterity deftly deflecting light
shadows extrude from hand to a point in the medium

every human senses hidden patterns of summation
attempting to capture moments of fragrance and grace

or transmission and the mythic nature of ancient starlight
the natural and numinous hold special mystery for the artist

moving forward, relentlessly, towards the next exploration
life becomes the transition of an idea through to completion

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf

Saturday, April 17, 2010

April Angst!

One Liners Department
She was living like a millionaire but without the money…
The first Pope was into denial, so nothing has essentially changed…
The Christian crucifixion is a crucial fiction…
Republicans and Democrats are just the Bloods and Crips…
The need for evolution is the seed of every revolution…
Hendrix understood reality at thirty-two feet per second…
The anonymity of cash transactions...
The decadence of hand delivered mail...

The United Mistakes of St. Paranoia
The United Snakes of Disturbia
The United Freaks of Hysteria
The Untied Stacks of Dyspepsia
The United Stakes of Investia
The United Cracks of Pavementia
The Untied Snacks of Dispensia
The United Flakes of Dandruffistan
The United Streaks of Lower Blurria
The United Wack of Napalmistan
The Untied Tracks of Upper Blurria
The United Strokes of Dementia
The United Perks of Entitlement
The Untied Slacks of New Pant City

Game Show Idea
So You Think You Can Divorce?
Couples can win valuable prizes in this retro-fit game show that combines The Newlywed Game, with Winitinaminute, and Divorce Court. Contests include: I Wouldn’t Put That In My Mouth (a skills contest to see if the children will actually eat their parent’s cooking), Testify! Your BFF Forever? (a tattletale game about your ex-partner’s best friend and the things you were not allowed to repeat), Separated At Birth (where ex-relatives are compared in split screens shots with farm, forest, and jungle animals), and Pinnochio (where the couples must lie about their ex to a celebrity guest who must decide the truth). All while the host eggs on the couples to insult themselves, each other, and the viewers at home via a partially-scripted stream of vitriol and other invented invective. Sure hit.

Tribute To Bobby D
I ain’t gonna work at Maggie’s pharmacy no more, no
I ain’t gonna work at Maggie’s pharmacy no more
I wake up in the morning and I find I am insane
I need to pop my pills so I know I’ll get well again
It’s a shame the way I fall down on the floor
I ain’t gonna work at Maggie’s pharmacy no more...

What’s an Ill Eagle Alex
Those ill evil drugs from multinational thieves
Who respond with a shrug and stash it back up their sleeves
That an ill eagle’s laws punch using sharpened rules
Without proper due clause assigned to corporate clues

Ill evil now pretends to protect the western global village
Giving them the power to brutally eco-rape and pillage
That Ill Eagle lays dying while the world shows little diligence
The sounds of crying are from those who retain intelligence

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf

Monday, April 12, 2010

Dark Days in Rome

These are the darkest days ever in the long history of the Roman Catholic Church. It seems the current Pope Benedict, ex-Hitler Youth and the former Bishop of Munich, is personally responsible for the cover-up policy adopted by the Church since the child abuse scandals that broke back in the 1980s and 90s in North America. These days the same scandals and smokescreens are being watched in Ireland, Germany, and Brazil where the latest expose of Priests sexing kids is making headlines.

Although I am not a Catholic, I was abused by Catholic-thinking for decades. My father was born in Germany and raised Catholic near the start of the previous century. He was a decent fellow who hated the Catholic Church for the pain and suffering inflicted on himself and others as they grew up. You must try to understand how bizarre things were back then. As an example of the weirdness, if a Priest walked down the street towards you and passed, you had to bow before him to demonstrate your respect. That was the custom in my Father’s little hometown in Southern Germany and based on such repression he felt he had no choice but to leave the country. Which is exactly what my father did, and in 1935 on his Twenty-First birthday, the first day he could legally do so, he left Germany for Canada.

As you can imagine it was a disturbing time in Germany with Hitler and the rise of the Nazi Party and, thankfully, my father got out of Germany, Europe had become very unsafe for many people but my father was far more afraid of the Catholic Church than Hitler and his mad followers. The madness of National Socialism (Nazi) politics is legendary but not even close to the repression suffered by Germans at the hands of a Catholic Church that beat, bullied, and battered boys for centuries prior to the second outbreak of global hostilities.

My father told me that the Priests used to have a saying, “give me a child for five years and I will give you a Catholic for life.” They should have added that the Catholic-for-life would have problems later around intellectual honesty, social anxiety, intimacy, ego displacement, and apparently never ending, sexual abuse issues. My father could read Latin (he was an alter boy), could speak three languages and read many more. He was an educated man who threw it all away to immigrate to a new land with a strange tongue where he would forever be part of the under-class, not native-born.  To try and build an existence from nothing was a staggering task but considering the abuse he left behind he felt it was a small price to pay.

Abuse of power comes as no surprise and the power of Catholic Church back in the day was absolutely stunning. Every Parish Priest ruled his small empire as an extension of a much greater empire with roots in Rome. Every Parish has their stories of brutal abuse which is one form of tragedy but ultimately the Church’s response to abuse allegations are inadequate, uninformed, and really the greatest tragedy of all. There needs to be criminal actions against the offenders whether Priests, Brothers, or Associates and they must serve Prison time.There also needs to compensation dealt to the victims who in this case are one-in-six people on Earth.

The compensation should come in the form a personal cheque, from the Pontiff, in the amount of $656.67 for One Billion people. This amount can be easily gathered by simply selling off all of the Church’s real estate holdings in the Americas. That’s at least 30 Billion dollars right away, the rest can come from Bingo, bake sales, and Rummage. The time has come to make things right for the One Billion victims of Catholicism and only the Catholic Church has the power to heal this massive rift.

The Church's very existence may depend on it...

"I Nailed Right In"
On Easter Sunday the pedophile Priest
Began his usual early morning routine
Convincing a young boy to make no noise
While he ate his ass like a bowl of poutine

The Pedophile Priest to say the least
Has no problem when giving Communion
With all the protection he gets from Rome
You would think he belonged to a Union

Pity the Priest who is also a pedophile
He cannot be trusted around any child
Pity the child who really is all the while
Growing up lonely, so empty, and wild

Poor little Willy just thought it was silly
That a Father would pull down his pants
He was their victim until he was twenty
A victim for sex then the butt of their rants

Poor little Sue thought that it grew
Because she was bad or so he said
Sue was afraid of all that she knew
She lost her soul when he took her to bed

Millions of victims searching for answers
The children of abuse can only ask why
Surviving so much pain from the cancers
Tortured, tasked, and then tossed aside

The Priests and the children may destroy
The institution for which they all bleed
The anger and rage that they will deploy
Can shut down a church by planting a seed

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf

Friday, April 9, 2010

owed to the junkie on the corner

you know, the guy with the pidgeon tied to his hat
who one who sits in the corner of the bank parking lot
across from the take-out burrito stand
his name is george, his pidgeon is called “pudge”
he used to have a rat, Henry, but he died suddenly
george says the rat died saving the life of an old friend
he is a hearty fellow, on his own, off welfare for years
hundreds of tracks reveal an inventory of self-injection
little embarrassment about the obvious implications therein
Vancouver, HIV, AIDS? Does it ring a bell Doctor Pavlov?
george is oblivious and probably infected, undetected
but not unaffected, as his sad-bad song painfully points
perhaps a cash donation or a few Tylenol-3 from a friend
he doesn’t like the shelters, “too many thieves in there”
he prefers to stretch out in dry underground parking
there he gets the occasional beatings from the owners
this city has become target hardened by his own admission
there are fewer older junkies as the lifestyle is prohibitive
george would be just another hype except for his animal lover
at first the bird was a beard but later became a bosom buddy
and he can get quite poetic about his two-pound companion
the bird’s great compassion has touched
george deeply
and his love has, in turn, moved me to write this line

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf


Inspect your respect and accept the exceptions
Reject disrespect and deflate all deceptions

Neglect your regret and respect most rejection
Just cover your lover to avoid all infection

Inflect don’t inflict and get rid of that addiction
Intent is all about direction so abandon all prediction

Relent on all derision, detect for self-illusion
Project a precision beyond the confusion

Connect to correct regardless of condition
Expecting a reflection regardless of religion

Drummers and jesters masking as distractions
While the planet is, herself, cast in contractions

Knowledge is power to shape inspiration
Dedicate yourself to cheering on Creation

Delegate your learning to the given situation
Your intense density will factor in vibration

Fractals found in science, wave and sand
Conceptual procedures now invoked by hand

Fractions as moments set and divided by time
The free form found as both a signal and sign

Collective density evolver mind body love
What’s bound to be true below is ever echoed above

Falling upwards into hyper-space at thirty-two feet per second
The power of people, directed by love, is a might too immense to be reckoned

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf

The Men in Black

We are the right men standing tall to the task
We are the bright men found out covering our assets
We are those white men rarely laughing, angry, or loud
We are the frightened men behind the mushroom cloud

We are those sinister men - nightmares born from desire
We are those avenging angels who can live with the screams
We are those government men representing law and order
We’re crossing many boundaries as we disrespect your scene

We are the men in black and did you catch my name?
The way we play with time and space is a Goddamn shame
The game, the way we play it, there’s no trace to track
We leave the details sketchy as we’re the men in black

We are the evil army who thwart your goals for peace
Thickly packed darkened dudes with a case of more for lease
We are intelligent creatures with a will too strong to override
Dedicating all due diligence we call the shots and shall decide

We are those empty men with hearts made from stone
Cold ass observers watching you play with your phone
We clone the active principles to shape scenarios and then
We clone our conclusions from things we thought back when

We are the men in black and it’s our future you will see
We are your aching desire to both belong and yet be free
We are a one-way track and it’s down the line you will go
We are the men in black and so let’s get on with the show!

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf

Generals and Majors

Major Epidemic
General Studies
Major Crisis
General Destruction
Major Investment
General Indications
Major Fuck-Up
General Quarters
Major Improvement
General Delivery
Major League
General Interest
Major Upset
General Store
Major Fifth
General Irritability
Major Arcana
General Announcement
Major Upgrade
General Authority
Major Incident
General Hospital
Major Inconvenience
General Malaise
Major Domo

© 2010 LRW

Thursday, April 1, 2010

These notes represent my writing from the past forty-eight hours. Easter is upon us and this time of year my thoughts often turn macabre and somber. I hope you enjoy my Easter words and at least I hope you find the material interesting.

I have always been a thief and it is with full belief
I suggest that poets and painters will forever steal
The reasons that I cheat are a legend on the street
The digestion of words and paint will forever heal

Herm and Hir: Neuters in English for him and her…

The Christian Crucifixion: Is a barbaric act of murder, perpetually on permanent public display, breeding a cold-blooded, treacherous, and backstabbing society where life, other than ones own, is cheap and all those others are all filthy and ugly (subhuman?). This act of deicide begins at the Cross and thus Crucifixion and ends with war, slavery, brutality, and genocide.

The linkage is found in converting “heathens” (or non-christians) into the christian faith through proselytizing and other evangelical trickery-hoopla, or war, in order to “save” their eternal souls and, later, sell them product. For those Billions of non-christians (6 Billion or so) who never knew their soul needed saving this, essentially western obsession, comes as a total surprise, Happy Easter everybody!

The christian crucifixion is simply crucial fiction
The need for evolution is the seed of revolution

Paradox of the Theists: cold-blooded killers must themselves be put to death…

The ongoing ignorance of mental health issues unrecognized as the source behind most urban crime. Criminalizing drug use and making addicts feed their habits via crime are the seeds of our currently sour social scenario.

Third World War
We're living through the Third World War
It comes on slow - just like before
The weaponage used won't be Nuclear
Just untapped fear of being made poor

The Rich will have their day in Hell
In bliss-turd Castles dare they dwell
In Justice Does the third world call
The Gates will Fall on battered shell

As down the Road there comes a time
When politrix mean more than rhyme
When the people begin to understand
Planned genocide is part of the crime

watched a car crash today
3 cars two dead one child
blood and bone emergent
the first responders did so
your correspondent static
oil and rubber and plastic
glass and death machine
small packages wrapped
children's birthday paper
fast-food wrappers & bag
chaos in their packaging
reflecting their end of life

“Welcome aboard Flight Two-Twenty-Three to Israel. I am Captain Christian Clark and I shall be your pilot for Toady's journey. Our flight path will take us past both the Grand Canyon and the old Spahn Movie Ranch so get out your eyephones and prepare to have all ye possess be rendered unto Teaser and her Earth Dog.”

© 2010 Leigh Richard Wolf