June 1, 2020 (In The Year of The Trump Virus)

June 1, 2020 (In The Year of The Trump Virus)

It's fascinating to watch President Virus self-destruct in such a fashion that is not a surprise whatsoever.  He is a child that one tells not to touch the flame, and you turn your back on him, and there he is with both hands in the blaze.  I can't imagine how exhausting it must be to be a journalist and have to write about him.  Easily provoked, and since he's trapped in the White House (in theory), he is being poked by a long stick while he's in the cage growling against these advisors, family, and god who knows who else who choose to be with this piece of shit.  I can't imagine a Hell that is worse than spending social or private time with this attention addict.  I get the idea that Republicans believe that if they keep their head down and get stuff passed in the house and senate, it will be worth it. Even with that thinking, how low can a human go with smelling their asses?  How long will it take from now to when he's hanging upside down in some gas station near the White House?

On a personal level, I have work to do, with even a deadline, yet, this oxygen sucker of what some suspect is or was a man is dragging all of us into a mixture of mud and shit.  I'm not particularly eager to get my clothes dirty for such rotting pounds of flesh, AKA President Virus.  Any showbiz figure who comes to his inauguration with the Stones' "Heart of Stone" as his intro music was clearly not a good sign for the next three-and-a-half years.   Flush him and his entire world down the toilet.  I prefer his golden toilet if you don't mind.  -Tosh Berman

President Virus (Trump) Plans to Veto Bill for Funding the United States Post Office

My father, Wallace Berman, is known for making postcards and then sending them to people. They were or is "Mail Art" in its truest definition. My dad liked to send quick messages to friends, but always on a card that he made and designed by himself. They were never meant to be exhibited in galleries or museums, but now they are often in museum collections. Nevertheless, the reason I'm bringing this up, is that President Virus plans to veto a bill that will give much-needed funds to the United States Post Office. I would think stamp collectors and mail art fans would find this horrifying. Stop President Virus. - Tosh Berman

April 12, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

April 12, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)


It's Wednesday, and I'm waiting for the mail.  My day is, waiting.  I wake up due to the sun coming up, and I move around the house to avoid the intense and direct sunlight.  It is not until around 7 PM where I feel I can stay still and place my body on the seat facing Waverly Drive.

Once the sun goes down, I feel more alive. Perhaps due to its cocktail hour at that time.   The first sip of white wine drains all my anxiety away.   I feel guilty about spending money on vinyl records, but it's one of the great pleasures in my life where I can sit in front of the turntable, with headphones on, and play an old record, that clearly has a lot of history on it.  The album may have been at the very least in one household, but perhaps two.

 I remember in the 80s I sold my records to get credit to buy new albums.  It was the only way for me to afford in getting a new record.  At that time, it was Aron's Records on Melrose, but I often regret in letting go records that mean a lot to me.  It's mostly an impulse on my part that when I want something new, I just trade in what I feel I can trade in at that moment.  I'm happy to get the new record, but it always comes with a profound sense of regret.

The wine drinking now is very much like the sun moving in a 12-hour day, it's just a reminder that time is moving on.   I sense a significant loss of wasted time, but that comes down to the nature of doing work, and on a schedule.  As I wander around the house to avoid the sunlight, I plan to sit myself down to write.  Within 12 hours I very much want to write something special or original. Or if anything else, something that will bring importance to whoever reads the text.   On the other hand, the truth is, I just want to make a presence within those hours to prove that I can be productive.   Alas, I often fail.

As mentioned, I feel close to Stephen Bannon.  We did arrange a meeting early this year, but we never met up.  Although I don't have proof, I suspect he deliberately ignored me.   I can feel his presence hooking me, and pulling towards his direction.  But then he rejected me, not by words, but by expressing no communication or clearly expressing the fact that I have no meaning in his life.  It's ironic that he's getting the same treatment from President Trump and his family.   They use you for your ideas, and once finished, they throw you back into the ocean.   He and I are like bloated whales, that are stranded on a beach.   I was thinking of approaching him again, now that he has been rejected, but decided that would be cruel on my part.   I sit here and get angry, but what good is it to add misery to his already miserable existence?  This is what I think about, when drinking a glass of Charles Shaw white, and listening to an old Move album on my hi-fi.

February 19, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

February 19, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

As I write, I'm like a fuse that's burning, and once the explosion hits, the world I know will be torn into pieces of flesh and metal.   I can tell things are bad because people are avoiding me like I'm the wrong reporter in the White House press conference.   Ever since yesterday, I have been printing out images of Stephen Bannon from the internet.  I'm convinced that he's a murderer.   I saw the man once, the one who caused my father's death.   Ever since then, I wished for him to rot outward to his inners.  Bannon looks like a man that is rotting by the second.  Like a hanging banana left too long on the kitchen counter, Banner is clearly decaying in front of my eyes.  If you poke too hard, he will explode.  It makes me sick to my stomach that I approach him about helping to build a statue in the President's honor.  I now want to burn my plans and scatter the ashes into Bannon's whiskey and water.

On the other hand, it's a beautiful day in Tokyo.  I spent some quality time in Shinjuku.  I borrowed a jacket from a member of the family here, and there is something fantastic when you leave an over-warmed room into the cold air.  I never felt so clean before.  I like to lose myself in the crowd.  It's the only time that I can forget about myself, and become this force.   I even enjoy the Far Right in the Shibuya Station.  At least four vans followed an all-black van that looked like they had metal fencing around the windows.  On the top of the vehicle are four huge loud speakers.  Not sure if it's a tape they are playing or an actual person in the car with a microphone.  Free speech being allowed, but in a volume where one can hear it for miles.    If Trump were smarter, he would have a series of these type of trucks driving through rural and urban centers.  He can stay at Mar-a-Lago with "the set," and at the same time, Trump can have these trucks plow through the countryside.  Japan always have better ideas than the West.

Today I will plan for my future.

February 10, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 10, 2017

For my long flight to Tokyo, I need to read a book that will make me forget my misery somewhere, flying over the Pacific Ocean.  Through my e-mail friend, yet a man who refuses to see me, Stephen Bannon, I plan to read Julius Evola.  Bannon has often given praise to Evola, for his views on society and its culture.  His masterpiece is reported to be "Revolt Against the Modern World."  Born in 1898, and died in 1974, this Italian painter and philosopher is known as a Radical Traditionalist.  A major occultist/esotericist of his time, he was a man who embraced the avant-garde arts, such as Futurism and Dadaism as well as a lifetime love for Fascism.   Although he was once close to Mussolini, he was more in line with the Nazis in Germany.  Of course, a man of high intellect becomes a suspicious character in the eyes of SS's Heinrich Himmler, who didn't trust him.    Evola felt Mussolini was too soft of a figure and intellect, and he felt the same way regarding Marinetti and the Futurists.  He preferred the spiritual leanings of the ancient Roman Paganism than to say something like Christianity. 

Bannon and I share an interest in digging deep into the cultural world to discover the foundation of our political beliefs.   Bannon is more attracted to the possibility of seeing Evola's political views becoming a reality in the 21st century.   The intellectual racist is the new man in Washington DC.   Not the President mind you, but it's best when the intellectual whispers secrets to the King.  As for myself, I'm more interested in Evola's theories on tantra sex.  Deep down I could care less about society in general.   I just want to get 'off' in an unusual fashion. 

February 5, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 5, 2017

I went for a walk in Downtown Los Angeles, mostly to clear my head.  In my depressive mode, I tend to walk in that neighborhood for the architecture, bars, and to look at the people.  I have to admit that I haven't been happy ever since the President got elected.   I thought I had it in with the Stephen Bannon connection, but like everything else in my life, I'm often invited to the table with the big guys, but of course, it's at the end of the table by the toilets or exit.  It's discouraging because I just want to support myself as a writer, and of course, as a community project, build a Trump statue.  The truth is I don't even like Trump.   I just wanted to do something to bring the country back together again.  For awhile, I was toying with an idea of having a statue made of Trump shaking hands with Hilary Clinton.  But again, I was discouraged by friends and foes who say that is a horrible idea.   I was even open-minded to make a statue of Trump and Putin shaking hands - and that too didn't go off well in my community or the board members (my wife and mom) of my foundation.  

I suspect everything is turning from bad to worse, which is causing me grave feelings of insecurity and depression.  The funny thing is when an election is over, and the guy or girl wins; everyone is Ok, maybe things will get better.  But for whatever reasons, everyone is stressed out or even suffering from anxiety of all sorts.   My soul purpose is to get rid of this sense of loss or feelings of apprehensiveness.  As I walk up Broadway without being conscious of where I am going, I came upon a group of really cute girls.   They were carrying signs.  "Water is Life."  "Pipelines are War Crimes."  I found myself in a March regarding the Standing Rock Indian Reservation and the plan to build the South Dakota Pipeline, on Native American land.  I didn't plan to be there, but here I was, walking among them.   

I realize it's fate that I'm here.  Perhaps the statue is not going to bring people together, but the process of going on marches is what is going to unite us.   As I walk with these people, which first, seemed to be a hundred or so, but more come, block-by-block, that hundred turns to a thousand.  Or perhaps more!  It's an incredible feeling to be with the masses, after spending so much time alone, just thinking about my stupid statue project and my useless writing.  I discover the two most important things in life is being with a vast population for one cause for all, and of course, on Facebook.  Is my happiness around the corner? 

January 31, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 31, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

This past week, I wrote several emails to Stephen Bannon, and not once, had he returned my correspondence to him.   I suspect he's a rude man.  Since I got back from Washington DC, I have been sitting in the front of my blank laptop screen and listening to David Ezra Okonsar playing the piano works of Pierre Boulez and Xenakis.   Post-modern thought needs post-modern music.   

A lot of my friends are kind of mad at me because I attempted to organize a non-profit for both the Trump statue and my writing.  I need to study Hubbard's technique in starting an organization because I'm truly failing in that department.    In theory where there is a crisis taking place, and that is apparently happening, the writing should be coming through loud and clear.  I'm no Adorno, but I can have a good thought now and then.  

I do have two board members committed to my foundation.  I called a meeting with my mom and wife, and they are both free for the meeting.  My wife, who is a foreigner has a hard time reading my writings, due that it's not that interesting for her.   My mother is convinced that one only needs to read the first paragraph and the last to get the 'drift' of the piece.   Both are solid board members, but so far they haven't contributed to the yearly board fee.   I now wonder if I should have offered Stephen Bannon a discount?   I don't think it's a good idea because then I would have to give my mom and wife a discount as well.  

Also, I should mention that my idea to organize volunteers for the Trump wall between the United States of America and the country of Mexico is not going so hot either.  I went door-to-door in my neighborhood, and pretty much everyone was very hostile to that idea.  My one and only friend who is a Trump supporter, as well as giving me Bannon's personal e-mail address, showed some interest.  The thing is, his anger is really negative.   He spends his entire energy into the 'send Hillary to prison' movement.    He told me he's often totally wiped out by the early morning (he stays up late) due to tracking down information on Hillary's criminal record through various news websites. 

The news items that he sends me connects the Clinton Foundation to the assassination of John and Robert Kennedy.   Part of that Texas/Russia/Alabama connection that keeps coming up.   For some, the battle is never over.  Even when there is a prison, and they have a prisoner inside the prison cell - some people are never satisfied.  My friend is that way.   Meanwhile, I will try to stay focus on my end of the world.  Which at this time, is not much happening. 

January 26, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 26, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

Stephen Bannon.  The man who rejected me, but I didn't dear sir, rejected you.  My understanding is that he's very much the architect of Donald Trump's vision.  In a way, he's like Mick Ronson to David Bowie or Billy Strayhorn to Duke Ellington.  Without Bannon, Trump may not be able to do what he must do, whatever that is?

When the country is under stress, it's best to do things that will bring the country back together.  A sense of focus.  It's crucial for all of us to chose the path, and all must follow it to the conclusion.  Therefore I thought maybe I should forget about building a statue in honor of Trump, but instead, help him build the wall between Mexico and the United States.  Because without a doubt, this wall will very much be the lasting tribute to Trump.  I suspect that the wall itself, once built, will be called "Trump Wall."  Not very poetic, but easy to remember.

As I sat in my living room, with a glass of cold beer (been drinking early in the day), I have thought what I can do as a citizen.   Should I volunteer to help build the wall?  It's going to expensive.  Maybe organize a fund-raiser for the wall?   For sure, I don't think our taxes should pay it.  Citizens should be paying this wall by either donating their services, serving cold beer on the sidelines, or supplying the tools such as shovels, tractors, and so forth.  There is no reason why this can't be a positive thing, with all of us, working together.

January 24, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 24, 2017

The last couple of days has been hard.  I hitchhiked back to Los Angeles after going to Washington DC in the hopes of seeing Stephen Bannon, who either refused to see me or just forgot about me.   More likely just a  member of the forgotten category in his life.   It was hard getting back, and I will never hit the road like that in such a manner where I have to depend on the kindness of strangers with a moving vehicle. 

On top of that, I got a cold.  At times, when I feel sorry for myself, I felt the cold was my just reward for trying to do something positive in this world.   I won't give up the Trump statue idea, but I will put it on the back burner for now.   I suspect in four years there will be various statues of Trump throughout the country.   Who knows, perhaps when he passes away (he's mortal), they will build a huge Trump Memorial in Washington DC.   Or at the very least, change the name of the XL and Dakota Access oil pipelines as  "The Trump Life Lines."  

At the moment, I have to make some hard decisions regarding my writing career.  Should I start up a non-profit organization focusing on me and my writings?  It's manifestly obvious that my work is needed, and to advance my thoughts, writing, and philosophy I do need a board of directors.  Bannon didn't work out, but that is how the cookie crumbles.  Can't cry over spilled oil.   Also, I think I need to think locally, instead of nationally.  It's a big country out there, and I'm just a man with a brain with two legs, and two arms.   I can do a lot, but not as much as a rich man.  I have to accept my limits.   But within those limits, it is my property.   And I will master my territory.  

January 20, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 20, 2017

Today sucks.  The whole trip sucked.   I suck.  They suck.  One big sucking noise.   First of all, I apologize for not keeping up the diary for the last couple of days.   To save dough, I had to hitchhike to Washington DC - and someone should have reminded me that hitchhiking in the winter is not the grandest idea.   I did dress warmly, but I should have purchased more socks at UNIQLO.  My shoes got wet, as well as the socks.  I was an idiot to wear Converse tennis shoes for this trip.  But I wanted to be comfortable.  Wrong.  I brought a few days of clothing with me, and two notebooks, and one working ball-point pen.   When I'm in a work mode, I live like a minimalist.  Not a well-designed minimalist mind you, but one who doesn't bring the extra dry pair of socks.   

The first impression of my trip to back east is that this country is not that hot.   I was hoping to see the grandness of the states I went through, but to be perfectly honest, it was mostly darkness due to the nighttime, and sleeping with my mouth wide open in someone's back seat, and then there was the truck.   A driver picked me up somewhere in Arizona and told me he was going to travel far, and I could stay in the back of his open air truck.  So I got rained and snowed on, and oddly enough I didn't get a cold. I think when one is determined like I'm, one doesn't get sick.  I have this strong Ayn Rand streak in me that I just go forward and hell with everything else. 

I arrived in Washington DC yesterday.  Dumpy town.  Parts of it looks like an abandoned movie set.  So it's cool in that fashion.  I arranged to go to an AirBnB which was a room with no furniture whatsoever.  I asked the owner if I could use the kitchen.  To give them credit, they were very straightforward and said "no" to me.   The same goes for the laundry.  "No."  What I did get was an empty room with no carpeting and the use of a toilet that was in a gas station a block away.  On the other hand, the price was pretty cheap.  So that's good.  

Once I got myself settled in the new place, I e-mailed Steve (Bannon) to let him know I'm here and ask him if he could meet me at Baja Fresh which is located at 1990 K St NW, Washington, DC 20006.   I thought it might be close to the Inauguration events, and therefore easier for him to get there.   He didn't respond.   I then added that I would treat him to lunch.   I gave him time and told him I'd be waiting for him.   

I easily found the restaurant and ordered a side dish of guacamole and chips.  Which I have to say is excellent.   One can taste the mixture of garlic and lime in the guacamole, which for me, made it unique.  Of course, the portion is small, so I mostly took my time by taking a bite every ten minutes or so.  And to be honest, I wasn't that hungry.  While sitting there, I took my notebook and pen out and wrote some notes to myself.  I knew it was important to get my ideas to Steve quickly because for sure he's a busy man.   But I just want to point out to him that I desire his services as a board member, and I should remind him that he's responsible for the finances of the non-profit, which again, is to serve me as a writer, with a side-project of building a Trump statue.  My goals are clear and even simple.   I feel confident that my 'pitch' is going to work well.  

I wrote to him to meet me at 1 PM.  As soon as it got to 1:30, I decided to write him another email from my I-Phone.   Just letting him know that I'm here, and if he wants me to order some food for him, so he doesn't have to waste time standing in line.   I wrote to him again at 2 PM.  Then another at 2:30.   At this point, I decided I should order a burrito and more chips because the people who work here are starting to give me those looks.  

Eventually, I ordered coffee after I ate the burrito.  I stayed there until 4 PM.  I compulsively checked my e-mails, but not one e-mail came to me, except notices from Pen USA to remind me to resubscribe.   There is that funny moment when one realizes that things are not going to work out today.  I left Baja Fresh, but first, I put in a $2 tip into their jar by their counter.   I then walked out into the wintery early evening. 

January 17, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 17, 2017

Good news!  My Trump loving friend hooked me up with Stephen Bannon.  I wrote an email to my pal, and he promised to forward it to Bannon.  What I wrote to him was that I'm interested in having him be part of my Board of Directors to sponsor and support my writing.  And as an additional goal of the foundation will be to build a Trump statue in the Sliver Lake Meadows.  He wrote back to me, writing that he would be interested in meeting me, and if it's possible, could I come to the Inauguration this coming Friday.  As a guest of course, but I will have to pay for my flight, hotel bill, food and stuff like that.  But he said that I would be invited to the ball and one of the dinners that will take place that evening.   

I looked at my calendar for January 20, and I see I have nothing planned for that day, except to visit the Glendale Galleria to buy some much-needed socks at UNIQLO.  I checked the 19, and that can be the day for sock shopping, so I wrote back to Bannon and told him yes, I would love to attend.  At this point, my imagination is going beyond excited.  I imagine that over this weekend, I can arrange to have Bannon as part of my board, but also maybe even meet President Trump and perhaps get some funding for the statue.  One of the things I have learned through life is that things can go up and down.  For me, it's mostly down.  But when an 'up' comes or arrives, one has to ride that wild wave that is called life. 

January 1, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 1, 2017

My heart is not really a heart.  It’s a drone looking for a subject.  Today is the first day of the new year.  I have a lot to look forward to.  I have been thinking about our upcoming President, and as I was drinking at the wine bar in Gelson’s market (on Hyperion) late last night. I had thoughts that I was becoming too negative.  Perhaps I should be more supportive of our soon-to-be President.  I’m thinking of starting up a committee to raise funds to build a nice statue of our incoming President.   

This, of course, will be a non-profit or no profit project, which must be a strange thing to do in the Trump world.  But I think to honor him even before he enters the White House, or even say, his Trump Tower as the President would be a very nice gesture.  The fact is I voted against him, and clearly, I lost, or we lost, and we just have to get up from the bar’s floor and make a new day.  

I thought of approaching the Trump foundation to see if they could grant us funds to build the statue, but alas, I think it’s best that the funding should come from citizens than say from the Government.   I’m not clear if the Trump Foundation is now part of the Government or just a side-business type of thing - but alas, that is not really a concern of mine.  I think what I need to do this morning is think of an artist who can do the job, and it is a job. It would be great to find an artist to donate his services and vision to make this statue, but I think that is asking way too much. 

The location I’m thinking of at the moment is Silver Lake Meadow, where the reservoir is located.  There is a large amount of grass area that would be the perfect spot to build or place the Trump statue.   I can see in the future, where families can gather around the statue to have picnics and of course, enjoy the California sunshine.   Also, I think it will be a great civic thing to do for Los Angeles.  In Tokyo, there is the dog statue that is placed right outside the Shibuya station.  It is a very well known meeting place, and right now, Los Angeles doesn’t have an official meeting place.  I can see future generations or visitors to our city saying ‘oh let’s meet up at the Trump statue.  It will be such an obvious place. I’m sure it will be known around the world.   When it comes to Silver Lake I’m very civic-minded.   Must make plans now!