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beastkeeper91 · 10 months ago

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Mattholomule

(My Hazbinsona)

[Name]

•Mattholomule

[True Name]

• Matthew

[Nicknames]

• Matt

• The Crimson Ripper (Alias)

• The Fear Demon (Title)

• Maniac Matt (By his bullies)

• Sweetie, My little cupcake (By Charlie)

• Matty, Squirt, Little Nerd (By Cherri)

• Pipsqueak, Twerp, Loony Boy, Sparky, Kid, Dork (By Angel)

• Kid (By Husk)

• Kiddo, Sweetheart, Mijho (By Vaggie)

• Little Rascal, My Dear Boy, Sport (By Alastor)

• Youngman (Sir Pentious)

• Bloodthirsty Brat (By Vox)

• Blazing Inferno, Goat Boy, Homicidal Maniac (By Velvette)

• Psychotic Prick, Troublesome Little Shit (By Valentino)

• Darling (By Rosie)

• Little Fella (By Mimzy)

• Forsaken Child, Filthy Brat (By Lute)

• Fucking Dweeb (By Adam)

[Species]

• Human (Formerly).

• Sinner Demon.

[Age]

• 18.

[Gender]

• Male.

[Sexuality]

• Pansexual.

[Date of Birth]

• September 14th, 2003.

[Date of Death]

• August 5th, 2022.

[Sins]

• Wrath and Gluttony.

[Cause of Death]

•Smoke suffocation.

[Likes]

• Animals, Murder, Torture, Killing those who he deemed "guilty", The Color Red, Fire, His adoptive parents, His Friends, Pain, His stuffed bear "Teddy", Marijuana, Pizza, Sweets, Video Games, Reading, Listening to Music, Drawing, Snuff Films, Vintage Antiques, History, Halloween, Mythology, Sci-Fi, Horror, Cooking, Helping Others, Swimming.

[Dislikes]

• Loud Noises, Crowded Areas, Summer, Hardcore Drugs, Hardcore Parties, Alcohol, Gambling, Someone taking his things without permission, Innocent people getting hurt, His friends & family getting hurt, Bigots, Animal Cruelty, Bullies, Pedos, Rapists, Perverts, Pornography, Needles, Angel Dust's Pranks and Insults, The Vees, Katie Killjoy, The Exorcists, Adam & Lute, Heaven's Hypocrisy.

[Friends]

• Charlie

• Vaggie

• Angel Dust (Sometimes)

• Husk (Sometimes)

• Alastor (Sometimes)

• Sir Pentious

• Egg Bois

• Niffty

• Rosie (acquainted)

• Zestial (acquainted)

• Carmilla Carmine (acquainted)

• Cherri Bomb (Sometimes)

• Emily

• Teddy (His stuffed bear)

• Kodak (OC)

• Giggles (OC)

• Viscera (OC)

[Enemies]

• Adam

• Lute

• Velvette

• Valentino

• Vox

• Mimzy

• Katie Killjoy

• Helsa Von Eldritch

• Seviathan Von Eldritch

[Crush]

• Viscera (OC)

[Family]

• Melanie (Mom)

• Joseph (Grandpa; Deceased)

• Charlie & Vaggie (Adoptive Parents)

[Personality]

•Kind Hearted, Respectful, Polite, Generous, Protective, Sensitive, Enthusiastic, Sympathetic, Friendly, Anxious, Psychotic, Sadistic, Homicidal, Obsessive.

[Physical Description]

• Normal Form: An average and short body with light-grey skin and forty tallymark scars, curly desert sand-colored hair along with two black horns, red eyes with a white sclera, including a third eye, black-hoofed feet, and distinguished fangs that stick out from his lips.

• Full Demon Form: A slender and tall body with red glowing tallymarks all-over,dark flaming hair with black elongated horns, elongated fingers and limbs with the legs being bended back, elongated claws, a long prehensile tail, a red eye located on his chest, black spike protrusions on his body, fully red eyes with a black pupil, and a wide mouth having complete rows of vicous sharp teeth.

[Height]

• 5"11 (Normal Form)

• 10"11 (Full Demon Form)

[Disabilities]

• Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

• Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD)

• Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

• Schizophrenia

• Pyromania

[Occupation]

• High School Student (Formerly).

• Serial Killer (Formerly).

• Asylum Patient (Formerly).

• Hazbin Hotel Resident.

[Residence]

• Oakwood, Washington (Birth Home, Formerly)

• Spring Valley, Arkansas (Formerly)

• Pentagram City, 9th Circle, Hell (Currently)

[Abilities]

• Intellect, Hand-to-Hand Combat, Lock Picking, Weapon Proficiency, Murder Intuition, Torture Intuition, Cooking, Singing, Demonic Transformation, Hypnosis Immunity, Weapon Summoning, Typhokinesis, Hallucikinesis, Night Vision, Enhanced Agility, Enhanced Strength, Hypnosis, Pyrokineses, Zoolingualism, Telekinesis, Teleportation, Fire Breath.

[Weaknesses]

• Due to his ADHD, it's hard for him to stay focused when using some of his powers. He would easily get distracted by something he either finds interesting, adorable, or unique.

• When creating illusions, it'll slowly drain him due to the need for concentration in order to create them.

• There were times where he couldn't control his full demonic form due to either panic attacks or uncomfortable rage. To prevent this, however, whenever there were signs of him transforming, he would take cannabinoids to keep him calm.

[Other/ Fun Facts]

• Whenever in a conversation he'll sometimes bring up references and facts.

• He has a lot of favorite animals in hell, though his most favorite are Dragons.

• Despite his murderous intentions and psychotic behavior, he's actually very genuine and kind once you get to know him better.

• His teddy bear acts both as a comfort item and as a memory of his mom back in the living world.

• Has a knack for bringing in animals and collecting antiques.

• Whenever he teleports, creates illusions, and manipulate or generates smoke. The color of the smoke will be Black & Red.

• Most of the overlords, except for the Vees, developed respect for him due to how powerful he is, which they'd never seen before, not since Alastor.

• His stuffed bear is sentient, meaning he can walk, eat, and understand people. Though he can't talk, he does make cute bear cub noises.

[Backstory]

• Matthew was a very good person in his early life. He was considered to be the sweetest, kindest, and most compassionate young man anyone has ever met, but that was before he moved to Spring Valley, Arkansas, which is one of the worst towns in America. There he became a target of bullying and prejudice to the point where he would get badly assaulted, harassed, and abused every day at school or in town for being both autistic and pansexual, but then one day he finally snapped and started killing not only his tormentors, but those he deemed "Guilty". From October 31st, 2021, to May 13th, 2022, he killed, butchered, tortured, and mutilated a total of 200 people and was later arrested and sentenced to "Spring Valley Sanatorium," where he would spend the rest of his life, but that was until a horrific fire happened in August, which killed half of the patients and staff, including Matthew. When he manifested in Hell, he arrived in the "Doomsday District" of Pentagram City where he stayed in for about a year till he saw a news report about a place called "The Happy Hotel" for those seeking redemption, but that wouldn't be the only thing he would find there, as it'll also be where he will start a new life and, possibly, a new family.

(Note: Might Edit once the show progresses.)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel rp #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel vaggie #alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin niffty #sir pentious #katie killjoy #hazbin overlords #hazbin exterminators #hazbin adam #the vees #valentino #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #egg bois

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evaofkonoha · 1 year ago

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shisui & itachi roadtrip nonsense

In Arizona

"Wha---what is that?" Shisui asks, eyes narrowing as he leans in closer to the glass case.

"I believe that is the Thing," Itachi deadpans, caught somewhere between annoyance and amusement at the novelty of this road-side stop.

Shisui narrows his eyes at the gray mass tucked in the case. "Do you think it's real?" He whispers.

Itachi rolls his eyes. "Probably not. It appears to be a paper mache craft project."

"Ah c'mon Itachi! The magic is in believing!" Shisui chides, looking up at Itachi with sparkling eyes. Shisui knows he is charming and insanely persuasive, hence why they keep making stops at every roadside attraction in the continental United States.

"It's not very convincing," itachi remarks, taking in what is supposed to be proof of the extraterrestrial but really feels like a waste of time.

"Then close your eyes and believe."

"I won't be able to see it then."Shisui smiles back at him.

"Exactly."

In Colorado

They camp for a night in the Great Sand Dunes National Park, because one of Itachi's goals for this grand roadtrip is to hot up as many National Parks as possible. The sand dunes are magnificent as they are astonishing.

"Isn't in crazy how all of a sudden there's just… sand. Like, sand everywhere," Shisui remarks, letting a handful of it slip through his fingers.

Itachi smiles softly.

"It's a little unexplainable, isn't it? I'm sure there's a reason why this is here, but it's almost more magical to not know why and instead just be amazed that it's here at all."

Quirking an eyebrow, smirk growing, Shisui quips, "Oh so now you're filled with mystery and adventure?"

The next day, Itachi buys a so-ugly-it's-cute Bigfoot Christmas ornament in a junky shop in Colorado Springs. When asked what compelled him to buy it, Itachi just responds with a cheeky grin,

"I don't know, kind of reminded me of you."

Shisui pouts a little at that.

In Oklahoma

Itachi's head whips to determine if what he saw in his perriferal is actually real. Interestingly enough, it is.

"Pull over there," he says, voice tinged with an edge of urgency.

Shisui follows where he is pointing, crossing the highway to find… Alvin and the Chipmunks?

Itachi's already half-crawling into the backseat to grab the camera. "You have to get my picture."

Shisui sits stunned at the events unfolding, not quite processing what is going on before it finally hits him that they are now pulled into the parking lot of a Marijuana despinsery so that Itachi can get his picture with three massive and slightly unnerving chipmunks. Of course he loves Itachi, so he takes the camera and gets out of the SUV.

In Arkansas

Their adventures have taken them to the Ozark mountain range, specifically to the small town of Eureka Springs, nestled and built into the mountain side. It has quirky, tourist shops, interesting restaurants, and a sex shop right in the middle of town. And not just any kind of sex shop, but a slightly trashy one.

So of course, Shisui just has to go in it.

Hand in hand, Shisui leads (drags) Itachi amongst the families visiting the little town towards the shop. Not one to be too embarrassed about his sexuality usually, the location and lack of any subtlety has a small blush growing on Itachi's cheeks. He finds himself keeping his head down and hoping his bangs will keep him from being recognized (as if he knows any of these people).

They make it into the shop, which smells very strongly of lemon intense, and immediately Shisui's eyes light up at the cheap lingerie sets and sex toys scattered about with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

They spend the next twenty minutes pursuing---at least Shisui is---occasionally stopping when Shisui finds something to menace Itachi with.

Making their way to one of the back corners, away from the very open windows to the street or the front counter, Shisui pulls Itachi in close for a kiss.

"You're cute when you blush," he whispers against Itachi's lips. Of course, Itachi blushes just a little bit at the compliment.

"And you're annoying."

"You find it endearing. Honestly, I'm a little horny. Want to get something and maybe go find a place to try it out?" Shisui nuzzles against Itachi's cheek. "I saw a maid set that you would look so cute in back by the window…"

Itachi pulls away with a blush and a scoff. "And the mood is dead."

They ended up not getting the cheap maid costume, but a few other things. Needless to say, the mood was not entirely dead.

This was fun to write. I couldn't sleep so I worked this out on my phone. If you have a state you would like to see them visit, don't hesitate to tell me! This is a fun little writing exercise and I would love to add more to it <3

#Shiita #uchiha itachi #naruto #fanfic #itachi uchiha #naruto fanfiction #itachi #shisui #shisui uchiha #uchiha shisui #Drabble #Ficlet #Road trip au #Road trip #Traveling #Writing #writing exercise

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reality-rogue · 2 months ago

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#weed #ganga #canabis #marijuana #joint #blunt #smoke #wakenbake #ptsd #medical #patient #arkansas #usa #thc-a #18+ #legal #smokeshop

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us-laws-you-should-know · 1 year ago

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Marijuana Legality: The Quick(er) Version

A few days ago, I started writing a very long, very detailed post about marijuana legality state by state... and it got eaten by tumblr's drafts features.

This post is going to be the Cliff Notes version of that post.

First off, Wikipedia's Legality of cannabis by U.S. jurisdiction page is an excellent resource for this. It doesn't capture everything, but it captures a lot, and you can always go to linked pages for individual states and/or check the linked sources for more information.

The short(ish) version:

Under federal law, specifically the Controlled Substances Act, marijuana is a Schedule I drug and cannot be prescribed or possessed legally aside from a very tightly-controlled quota for scientific research purposes. This scheduling includes language stating that marijuana "has no currently accepted medical use" and "[t]here is a lack of accepted safety for use of the drug or other substance under medical supervision", which is... arguable.

There is a process for changing drugs, including marijuana, to a less restrictive schedule under the Controlled Substances Act or removing them as a controlled substance altogether. But that process hasn't happened for marijuana so far.

Technically, this supersedes state and local law on the subject; state law can be more restrictive than federal law, but not less restrictive, or else the whole idea of federal law governing the whole country is moot. Theoretically, that means that federal police could arrest anyone, anywhere, for marijuana possession under the Controlled Substances Act, regardless of what local authorities say on the matter.

Realistically, that's highly unlikely. Any case where someone gets arrested for marijuana in a state that says it's okay is practically asking for a Supreme Court case on the matter, and said Supreme Court ruling would inevitable be controversial and divisive, and right now everybody's content to just... pretend the federal law doesn't exist when the state says otherwise. Probably some years down the line such a Supreme Court case will indeed happen and cause a shift to the current murky and unstable status quo, but it's highly unlikely that said Supreme Court case will star you, random marijuana user. (And if it does, well, upside is there's bound to be a bunch of folks willing to represent you for free just to get in on the action!)

Also, the federal police are busy, and hey, if they don't have to worry about marijuana use in a large chunk of the country, that just gives them more time to go after other kinds of federal criminals.

So, if state law's what matters, what do the states say?

Again, I point you to the Wikipedia page outlining exactly this. (It's most of what I'm using for a resource here myself.)

Recreational use of marijuana is legal in 24 states (Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Montana, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont, Virginia, and Washington state), three U.S. territories (Guam, Northern Mariana Islands, and U.S. Virgin Islands), and Washington D.C. Note that Ohio's measure here is newly passed and doesn't actually take effect until December 7, 2023, three days from now.

Commercial distribution is legal everywhere that recreational use is legal except Virginia and Washington D.C.

Personal cultivation for recreational use is legal everywhere that recreational use is legal except Delaware, Illinois, New Jersey, and Washington state.

Recreational use is decriminalized in Hawaii, Louisiana, New Hampshire, and North Dakota.

Medicinal use of marijuana is legal in 38 states (the recreational use ones, plus Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, Utah, and West Virginia), four U.S. territories (the recreational use ones plus Puerto Rico), and Washington D.C.

Medicinal use is decriminalized in Nebraska and North Carolina.

Iowa gets a special shout-out here for allowing medicinal marijuana, but not allowing any actual distributors of said medicinal marijuana in the state; medicinal marijuana patients need to go out-of-state to get their marijuana supplies, but those supplies remain legal upon bringing them back to Iowa.

Personal cultivation for medicinal use is legal everywhere that recreational cultivation is legal plus Illinois, Washington state, Hawaii, Oklahoma, and South Dakota.

Marijuana remains illegal for both medicinal and recreational use in ten states: Georgia (though several cities/counties in Georgia have decriminalized it), Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Wisconsin, and Wyoming, and also the territory of American Samoa. Everywhere but American Samoa has some exception for CBD oil, though, with limits on the percentage of THC present.

A number of Native American reservations have also legalized marijuana use, either recreational or medicinal.

Most of these laws have restrictions beyond just "it's legal". You might have to be 18 to purchase marijuana, or 19, or 21; there's generally a maximum amount you're allowed to possess, or grow, at one time; medicinal use might be restricted to specific symptoms or conditions outlined in the original law; details may vary about having it in a public place, or about the specific forms allowed.

Also, some laws specifically address potential effects of marijuana use within the state beyond simple criminality. Can marijuana use be considered in a child welfare case, and held against you as a parent? Can use of medicinal marijuana get you fired if you fail a drug test your employer gave you, or just because your employer doesn't like it? Does being fired for using marijuana count as being fired "for cause" for unemployment purposes? Can marijuana use disqualify you from accessing needed health care like organ transplants? Excellent questions! The answers will vary. Or they might not be specified in the original statute at all, which leaves it open for the courts to decide.

If you're going to purchase and/or consume marijuana, please, look up all the details of your local laws on the matter beforehand.

#marijuana laws #cannabis laws #cannabis legalization #marijuana #cannabis #pot #weed #us law #american law #united states law #drug law #substance law #controlled substances act #controlled substances

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beardedmrbean · 9 months ago

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BUFFALO, N.Y. (AP) — The way prosecutors tell it, Joseph Bongiovanni went to work for years with a “little dark secret.”

Behind the veneer of a veteran U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration agent, they alleged, was a turncoat on the take from the Buffalo Mafia, offering an “umbrella of protection” that derailed investigations of his childhood friends, covered for a sex-trafficking strip club and even helped a connected high school English teacher keep his marijuana-growing side hustle.

In a federal trial that began this month, prosecutors portrayed Bongiovanni as a greedy racist who pocketed more than $250,000 in cash-stuffed envelopes over a decade and threw his colleagues off by opening bogus case files and encouraging them to spend less time investigating Italians and more time on Blacks and Hispanics, “n----- and s----” he was alleged to have called them. When authorities finally unmasked him in 2019, he hastily retired and wiped his cellphone clean.

“Sometimes the DEA doesn’t get it right,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Joseph Tripi told jurors. “He was able to manipulate everyone because, in law enforcement, there’s a certain amount of trust that’s inherent. He did it under the watch of supervisors who under-supervised him.”

The 59-year-old Bongiovanni has denied the counts of bribery, conspiracy and obstruction of justice that could land him behind bars for life, charges his attorney says are built on lies “so fanciful they don’t just strain credibility, they rip it apart.”

The trial is the latest gut punch to the 4,100-agent DEA, which has seen at least 16 agents brought up on federal charges since 2015, a parade of misconduct that has revealed gaping holes in the agency’s supervision.

The crimes have included child pornography, drug trafficking, leaking intelligence to defense attorneys and selling firearms to cartel associates, an Associated Press analysis found. One carried a “Liberty or Death” flag and flashed his badge outside the Capitol on Jan. 6. Another infiltrated the DEA in Chicago and helped traffickers smuggle thousands of kilos of cocaine from Puerto Rico to New York.

At least three veteran agents are serving prison sentences of a decade or longer, including one who laundered money for cartels in Colombia and spent lavishly on expensive sports cars and Tiffany jewels, and an Arkansas-based agent recorded taking a bribe inside a Las Vegas casino.

The cases, coming amid an epidemic of more than 100,000 fatal drug overdoses a year, often present yearslong headaches for the U.S. Justice Department to determine whether any investigations were tainted when rogue agents betrayed the badge.

“We should not expect to see this much crime in one law enforcement agency,” said Rachel Moran, an associate professor at the University of St. Thomas School of Law in Minneapolis. “The common thread I see here is a lack of oversight and accountability.”

The DEA declined to comment. DEA Administrator Anne Milgram is herself the subject of an ongoing Inspector General inquiry examining whether the agency improperly hired some of her past associates.

Like other DEA scandals, the Bongiovanni case underscores recurring questions about the agency’s hiring standards and ability to root out corruption. Background checks didn’t turn up Bongiovanni’s prior drug use and ties to Italian organized crime in his native Buffalo, prosecutors said, and not a single member of law enforcement was on to him until a trafficker paying for Bongiovanni’s protection was arrested by another agency. “He’s got that little dark secret,” Tripi said.

The trial, expected to last two months, is part of a broader sex-trafficking prosecution that has taken sensational turns, including an implicated judge who killed himself after the FBI raided his home, law enforcement dragging a pond in search of an overdose victim and dead rats planted outside the home of a government witness who prosecutors allege was later killed by a fatal dose of fentanyl.

Bongiovanni was raised in a tight-knit Italian American community in North Buffalo and known as a “door kicker” in the DEA, defense attorney Parker MacKay said, “not the type to sit in front of a computer.”

In his high school yearbook, Bongiovanni said he wanted to be a billionaire. But prosecutors said he went through financial struggles during his two-decade career that made him vulnerable to taking bribes.

His protection ranged from providing an “all clear” assuring trafficker friends they were not on law enforcement’s radar to leaking intelligence and opening fictitious cases that made it appear he was investigating them or relying on them as informants, prosecutors said, a sort of catch-and-kill tactic that prevented other law enforcement agencies from pursuing their own cases. This also positioned Bongiovanni to receive notice any time another agency became interested in one of the targets, a process known as deconfliction.

Bongiovanni also is accused of vouching for criminals, filing bogus reports and swiping a sensitive DEA case file on organized crime that he stored in his basement after his abrupt retirement.

Among the rackets Bongiovanni is accused of protecting is Pharoah’s Gentlemen’s Club, a strip club outside Buffalo described by prosecutors as a haven for drug use and sex trafficking. Bongiovanni was childhood friends with the owner, Peter Gerace Jr., who authorities allege has close ties to both the Buffalo Mafia and the notoriously violent Outlaws Motorcycle Club.

Prosecutors said Gerace had the agent on speed dial for advice when he needed to cover up the overdose of a stripper. The evidence includes a voicemail in which Gerace asks Bongiovanni about tracing a drug dealer’s cellphone. “Is there a way to ping it like police do?” he said, according to court records. “I just want to know if you could do that or not.”

Gerace attorney Mark Foti said his client “denies all charges and looks forward to confronting the government’s evidence at his trial.”

The long list of witnesses in the case includes dozens of federal law enforcement officers and a public school teacher of 30 years who admitted running a marijuana-growing operation while receiving confidential information from Bongiovanni.

Prosecutor Tripi said Bongiovanni had two sets of rules, one for cronies lining his pockets and another for everyone else.

“He did just enough legitimate work to avoid detection,” he said. “He almost got away with it.”

#nunyas news

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cannabisbusinessexecutive · 1 year ago

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Medical marijuana industry sits tight following court ruling that could alter future of business in Arkansas

Arkansas’ medical marijuana industry is in a wait-and-see mode after a court ruling last week that could potentially upend the future of cannabis in the state. Pulaski County Circuit Judge Morgan “Chip” Welch declared 27 laws regulating medical marijuana in Arkansas “void” June 14, saying the General Assembly unconstitutionally overstepped its legal bounds. Those laws had changed Amendment 98 to…

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#Arkansas Constitution #arkansas marijuana #Judge Morgan "Chip" Welch #Legal Marijuana #medical marijuana #THC

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whileiamdying · 2 years ago

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Howl

youtube

BY ALLEN GINSBERG For Carl Solomon

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,

who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,

who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,

who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,

who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,

who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon,

yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,

suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,

who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,

who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,

who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,

who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the FBI in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,

who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,

who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,

who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,

who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,

who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,

who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,

who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may,

who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,

who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom,

who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,

who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,

who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’ rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,

who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hung-over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,

who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium,

who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,

who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,

who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,

who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,

who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,

who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,

who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,

who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,

who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,

who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles,

who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,

who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,

who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,

who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,

who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,

who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,

and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,

who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,

returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,

Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,

with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination—

ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re really in the total animal soup of time—

and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipsis catalogue a variable measure and the vibrating plane,

who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus

to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,

the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death,

and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio

with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?

Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!

Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!

Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!

Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!

Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!

Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!

Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!

Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!

They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!

Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!

Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!

Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

III

Carl Solomon! I’m with you in Rockland where you’re madder than I am I’m with you in Rockland where you must feel very strange I’m with you in Rockland where you imitate the shade of my mother I’m with you in Rockland where you’ve murdered your twelve secretaries I’m with you in Rockland where you laugh at this invisible humor I’m with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter I’m with you in Rockland where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio I’m with you in Rockland where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses I'm with you in Rockland where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica I’m with you in Rockland where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx I’m with you in Rockland where you scream in a straightjacket that you’re losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss I’m with you in Rockland where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse I’m with you in Rockland where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void I’m with you in Rockland where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the fascist national Golgotha I’m with you in Rockland where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from the superhuman tomb I’m with you in Rockland where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale I’m with you in Rockland where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and won’t let us sleep I’m with you in Rockland where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we’re free I’m with you in Rockland in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night

San Francisco, 1955—1956

#irwin allen ginsberg #allen ginsberg #howl #beatnicks #beat generation #Youtube

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miranda-javid · 2 years ago

Text

Howl

BY ALLEN GINSBERG

For Carl Solomon