February 15, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

Photograph by Tosh Berman

February 15, 2017

The only time I can catch up on some serious cinema is when I fly from Los Angeles to Tokyo.  Singapore Airlines without a doubt has the best film programming.  For instance, I can make a choice between the Tom Cruise "Jack Reacher 2" and "Suicide Squad."  Or due to the long plane flight, I can watch both.     Jared Lato's version of the Joker is nothing compared to Trump's taking on the Joker's characteristics.  President Trump reminds me a bit of "Suicide Squad," because he's much better than the film.  It's interesting that the execution producer of "Suicide Squad"  is Steven Mnuchin, the brand new Secretary of The Treasury.  The other thing I like to watch is the real-time map of the plane going over the Pacific ocean.   I once sat in my seat for 10 hours just glued in front of my own screen watching the Plane I'm on, leaving Los Angeles and eventually arriving in Narita.   

I loathe traveling.  I find it hard to believe that there are people out there that like to deal with their luggage.   I had to push my wife's luggage from one space to the next.  Once we got to our living space in Meguro, she opened up her luggage exposing four boxes of  Trader Joe's cereal brand.  My wife refuses to change her breakfast habit, even when traveling.   I find it insane that she can't find cereal in the local Japanese market here, but she insists on Trader Joe's cereal.   So what can I do, but push her luggage from there to here. 

I suffer from jet-lag which is something horrible. It makes my eyes hurt and of course the headache as well.  They say one should drink a lot of water on the flight, but I usually drink tons of white wine to get through the boredom.    In theory, this may not be the best thing to do, but alas  I have never turned down a free glass of wine on an international flight. 

I haven't been to Tokyo since 2015.  I feel like I'm greeting old friends.  I tend to hang out in the Meguro area of Tokyo, and I see the same shop people - the sake shop, the fish market, and the local coffee shop.  They know my face, and that I tend to disappear, but I always come back.   As I walked home from the local market tonight, I ran into a display of dolls. I'm told by a citizen of Meguro that this is a display to honor 'Girl's Day."   Which reminds me to write to Stephen Bannon to suggest that there should be a girl's day in the U.S.  I know I should give up on Bannon, but I can't help it.  There is something charming about the man.  We do share a love for Italian Futurist culture after all.  Surely something can make this relationship a total go for the both of us. 

February 13, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 13, 2017

I'm packing for my trip to Tokyo.  It's cold there.  Since I'm a hardcore California man of 60 years standing, I don't even own a jacket.  I'm   bringing a v-neck t-shirt so I can wear it over a regular long sleeve t-shirt, which of course, will be over a white cotton t-shirt.  And a scarf.  So three layers of T-shirts and scarf I think will be okay for temperatures around 50 degrees.  The plane ride will be 11 hours long, and 17 hours in the future.  Jet-lag is not an option.  I have to stay alerted for the entire trip.  Although, the neon lights of the Ginza bathes my eyes in such a fashion that I become sleepy.   There is something about Japan that makes me feel cozy.  For instance, there is no central heating in most Japanese homes.  To get out of your comfortable bed to pee in the middle of the night is a shock to the body.  First, it's cold outside your bedding, and then when you're in the hallway, it's 10 degrees lower for some reason.  The saving grace is the freezing toilet room, but alas, the toilet is heated.  Most if not all Japanese toilets are heated.  It sounds silly, but very much needed in the middle of the night. That, in a nutshell, is a typical middle-of-the-night schedule in a Japanese home.  Right now I'm projecting this, but if it is like the previous trips to Japan in the winter time, well, there should be no surprises.  Where I'm staying there is a washing machine, so I think I can just bring the three t-shirts, scarf, blue jeans, and tennis shoes.  Oh, maybe a pair of socks and shorts as well.  Then I'm set for my adventure.   Must remember to bring BOOKFORUM for the plane ride.  It's the only thing I can read on a plane.  And the size of the magazine is perfect.  It's sort of like a newspaper so one can use it as a napkin on one's lap while you're eating.  I don't know about you, but it's tough to eat in the cheap seats on a plane.  I'm left-handed, so it's always awkward to have someone near me during a meal.  And I tend to leave crumbs on my lap, so BOOKFORUM serves excellent service.  I can't wait until tomorrow.  Why can't tomorrow be now, and now be some other time?

Dennis Hopper "Colors, The Polaroids" Essay by Aaron Rose (Damiani)

ISBN: 978-88-6208-476-5 Damiani

Dennis Hopper did many things. Known as an actor, filmmaker, artist, art collector, and photographer. His strongest fields for me, is his acting, photographs, and of course, his art collection. The two that stand out is his great sense of the eye for art and his understanding of that medium, whatever it's paintings, colleges or sculpture. He's also a fantastic photographer. The various books that have come out for the last ten or so years are all pretty good. He was always in the right place and time, and his camera/eyes recorded those moments magnificently. 

I have lived in Los Angeles for the most of my life, and I have seen and lived among graffiti walls, side of buildings and sidewalks for my entire adult life. One thing that never goes away in Los Angeles is graffiti. I hate it. For one reason, I love architecture, and I like how walls and concrete look like just a wall or a piece of concrete. The naked texture of the side of a wall is something of beauty to me. When someone paints on it, or use it as a canvas, I feel I'm cheated of the original vision of that structure. Writing this, I know I'm someone in the minority who sees graffiti, both as art and message board, as something of an eyesore for me. There are exceptions, of course, but 98% of the graffiti around Los Angeles is pretty depressing. Dennis Hopper felt another way about it.

"Colors The Polaroids" more likely were Dennis' research material of his making for the film he was about to make called 'Colors." The story of two LAPD cops dueling with the local street gangs. In preparation, Hopper went through his neighborhood of Venice California and elsewhere to document various gang graffiti. On a sociology level, graffiti is fascinating. It's a coded language within a particular group, as well as a message for other gangs. The act of covering up one's graffiti and replacing it with their writing has been a practice for decades. There is that, but Hopper is also looking at the graffiti as works of art, or paintings. As much as I loathe graffiti, there is clearly an aesthetic going on. It is a craft if not always an art. 

The Hopper book is interesting with the fact that he was recording these images for his film, but also a dual interest in it as painting. The way he photographs these walls - mostly shot closely and straight on, I can feel he loved the imagery of this world. Also that he used a Polaroid either means he wanted results right away and not wait for the images for a day or so (before digital photography of course), or he liked the instant playback and almost artless aspect of such a camera and its use. The truth is, the Polaroid is a highly aesthetic as well. It has its limitations, but that sometimes turns the artist onto that medium. Most of the writings on the side or wall have to be done quickly for their safety sake as well as not being caught by the cops or property owners - so in that sense, an instant camera serves the same purpose. You have one shot at it, and that's it. 

The introduction/essay by Aaron Rose is pretty good. For the hardcore Los Angeles citizen as well as being a fan of Dennis Hopper. Then the book is for you.

"On The Natural History of Destruction" by W.G. Sebald (Notting Hill Editions)

ISBN: 978-1-907903-55-7 Notting Hill Editions

As a writer, W.G. Sebald is a guy with a bow and arrow and can take on a difficult subject, and hit a bullseye every time. He had the talent to look at his subject matter apparently, like a surgeon going into the operation room to do a complicated procedure, but he always comes through in the end. Normally Sebald is a fictional writer but through the eyes of a subjective journalist. It's his skill in laying out the landscape in his novels, and especially in these two essays, one on the bombings of various German cities, and the other on a controversial German writer, Alfred Andersch.

The brilliance of his essay (speech) on the bombings in different German cities is that he doesn't play the victim's card. He looks at them for what they are. A destruction that killed and disrupted many lives, but in the shadow of Hitler's horrible vision of the world. Through Sebald's descriptive writing, one can almost taste the misery and the essence of the hopelessness of it all. Hitler's goal was to bomb London. He would go into detail about how the flames would eat up the English capital in horror overtures. The irony is that it happened to his own country. The vision he brought to the world, didn't exactly worked out for him (or Germany).

The Alfred Andersch essay is fascinating, due to how Sebald, a fellow German, see this individual within the Nazi/World War II environment. Andersch is a writer I know nothing of, till I read Sebald's piece. It seems in certain circles and through his writing, he was the good moral German during the Nazi years. Sebald feels differently. In a critical and almost cold-like manner, he cuts into the Andersch myth of the good Nazi. Reading it, I'm struck by how the individual deals with the issue of morality and identity in a landscape that is both dangerous and quite evil. I think we at this moment and time, feel the same regarding a certain individual in the White House. It's hard not to read this book and not think of the destruction in Palestine, Libya, and other parts of the world.

The Notting Hill Edition of "On The Natural History of Destruction" is a beautifully designed and elegant book. Which makes the book even more compelling in how this devastating text is placed in such a seductive packaging.

"Before Pictures" by Douglas Crimp (The University of Chicago Press/Dancing Foxes Press)

ISBN 978-0-226-423456

In my youth, I subscribed to the October journal. I feel my main attraction to the journal was due to its design. Which is, to this day, the exact same thing. I like a magazine or journal that doesn't change. Saying that I haven't read it for 20 years or so, even though, it's an excellent publication of writers writing about things I'm interested in. One of those writers is Douglas Crimp. If his name was attached to an essay I would read it. 

"Before Pictures" is a book that I wouldn't expect from Crimp. It's very personal, and perhaps one of the best books from a gay perspective on New York City and its haunts. The book is centered on the fact that he curated a show called "Pictures" which was influential due it had Robert Longo, Cindy Sherman, and others. He was a critic who was/is interested in how the arts merge into pop culture. What I like about this book is that it's a very focused memoir on the place, time, and the nature of one's sexuality and love of the arts can all meet on a specific landscape. When he writes about the disco era it's fascinating, maybe because I just think of him as an art critic and not a guy who actually had a public life in such a wonderful environment. Or his interest in the Ballet, which is quite deep, and of course, like everything else in this book, deals with a relationship. A superb memoir that touches on a lot of issues. His love (I think) for Manhattan and some other locations. The Fire Island part of the book was equally fascinating to me. Essential gay culture literature, and of course, a very insider's view of the arts during the 1970s through the 1980s. Wonderful.

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 9, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 9, 2017

I can't deal with it.  I'm leaving the United States for Japan.  I need a country that represents order and is sane.  The situation is, do I focus on life as a Zen Monk, or go into Japanese pop music (J-pop) life?   Or can I do both?   

The foundation thing is not happening.  Both my mom and wife quit the Foundation's board of directors.  Which just leaves me as the head of the board.   We or I should say "I" had a board meeting, where I sat around a white table and read a tourist guide to Tokyo.   It was by far, the most constructive thing I did that day.  My tickets are purchased, and I'm very much looking forward to spending time in my old haunts in little Tokyo town.  There is a bar in Shinjuku that is calling out my name.  If you be quiet for a second or so, you can hear it.  "Tosh-chan, come here."  

I'm looking forward to getting back to the old Shibuya sound.  I have a faint idea of getting a band of girl dancers behind me as the singer.  I can dance OK, but I think the spectacle of it all will be a huge success. If nothing else, it will be useful for my ongoing memoir. 

"Novi Sad" by Jeff Jackson (Kiddiepunk)

www.kiddiepunk.com Kiddiepunk

I read "Novi Sad" on the bus where my destination was at the barber for my haircut, and I didn't want to go home till I finished the book - so I ended up in a local bar to read the entire novella. It's a very moving book regarding the subject matter of imminent death, the loss of an important person in one's community, and the presence of the world that is not going to get better. A gang of young people, who are barely existing, are located in an abandoned hotel waiting for their 'leader' of sorts. They go through an abandoned and destroyed city to find the lost one. Not to give away the details of the plot, but it is very much a haunted work I think dealing with sadness and the acknowledgment of one who has passed on to the other side.

One of the characters in this short narrative is named "Blue," and the pages in this book are on light blue paper. I was reading it in a dark bar, and the blue is a nice bath for the eyes, but also in tuned with the character "Blue," as well as the story being sort of a version of the blues. It's a beautifully designed artbook by Michael Salerno and published with great love by Kiddiepunk, who works by the way, with Dennis Cooper. The images or artwork fits in greatly with the narrative. A really nice package. A great read. Now, it must be yours.

Theodor Adorno - "Minima Moralia: Reflections From Damaged Life" (Verso)

ISBN: 978-1-84467-051-2 Verso Books

"Minima Moralia" is my first introduction to the writing and brain of Theodor Adorno. I, of course, heard of the Frankfurt School, but never read works by its writers/thinkers - except for Walter Benjamin, who I adore. And technically he knew these guys, but wasn't a "member." This book is the ultimate bathtub book. It took me at least ten bath sessions, and a few long bus rides till I finished this book.

153 segments stand alone as miniature essays on subject matters that deal with the political system, aesthetics, literature, music, and Hitler. Since he wrote this book during the war years and as an exile in California, one gets a very precise snapshot of what it's like for an intellectual to witness such a devasting loss. The end of civilization, or the entrance of hell. "Minima Moralia" would be a proper companion piece to Guy Debord's "Society of the Spectacle." Both writers are very different, but the format of the writing is similar. The prose is very dense, and often I had to re-read passages. There are countless cultural references in Adorno's text -from classical works to pop culture of Germany/U.S.A/Europe of the time he wrote this work. The book analyzes the system that made things go wrong but doesn't have an answer to the problem. What comes through is an intelligent writer who is bitter, angry and very critical of the world as it lays out in front of him.

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. 

Ludwig Wittgenstein "Lectures and Conversations" Edited by Cyril Barrett

ISBN: 0-520-01354-9 University of California Press

As someone who writes, in other words, tries to put the images that are in my mind as words on a page - I, of course, have a profound respect for the writings of Ludwig Wittgenstein. Not the easiest philosopher to follow or understand, but personally speaking, he's the most rewarding with respect to my writing. The beauty of his thought is not the end of the process, but the journey itself. I often think that Wittgenstein is struggling to make himself understandable to his readers and students.

"Lectures & Conversations" is an absorbing book. It's ironic that it's a book about communicating what you think, but here, it is being filtered and written down as notes by his students in Cambridge in the 1930s. The primary focus of this small book is aesthetics. In how one sees something and how they describe that experience. In this part of the book alone, there are two students' notes of the lecture, which is interesting because you're getting the same information (we think), but the fact that it is two separate people, how they process that information. So overall the book is about what Wittgenstein is stating, bu then how that information or his thoughts are being dealt with in a lecture format.

The other subject matters in this book are psychology and religious belief. Wittgenstein reading Freud is a mind-bending experience. The landscape is so huge, and Wittgenstein I feel works best in a smaller context. For instance, what is on the table, and what does that mean to you? He didn't comment on that, but I'm just using that as an example, compared to the meaning of dreams.

Since I have been reading off and on, Wittgenstein, for the past five years or so, I can see his presence in my work. I don't fully grasp everything he writes or lectures about, but I get the 'drift.' In his nature, he writes like a poet, who thinks logically. I'm a fan of Wittgenstein.

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. 

The Evening Series : VOL 5 (For Tom Neal)

I do love the pitter-patter of the rain tonight.  When there is a scent of moisture in the air, that is the time when I'm happy.  The dead bodies that lay throughout this house seem to me like it was from another time or even place.  What has been done has been done, and I can't cry over spilled milk.   I open the owner of this home's laptop and start writing in it.  I presume the authorities will read this in due time.  I may either check myself out or just leave the premise. 

Back to the rain.  Ever since I was a boy, I seem to feel great comfort in the storm.   The more it raged, and destroy, the more happiness came to my heart.   Even the leaks over my bed brought a sense of adventure to my life.   When I walk through an urban area, I often see a homeless person in a cardboard shelter, but you know that they are getting soaked.  I know what it's like to be wet and in a bed or sleeping area.   As a kid, I never wanted to fully wake-up, so the rain pitter-patter on my bed till it got soaked.  I just stayed in bed and counted the raindrops hitting my forehead. For some odd reason, I never got sick.   While walking I like looking at the wet streets reflecting the lights -it's like they are dancing on the pavement.   The sound of the rain is a beautiful piece of music.  Like millions of others, I feel like Gene Kelly in "Singing in the Rain."  I just want to dance till not only soaked but dead.   The end of time, the end of everything -it's blissful to be at that point. 

In a few days, there will be a new sheriff in the main house.  They're going to clean up Dodge and other towns.   Sadly, I won't be around much anymore.   Neither a lot of people.  No pun intended on the folks who lived in this home.   One thing I have notice is that it just takes only one incident to change everything.  You can plan.  Or you don't plan.  Still, just by having the stars set in a specific position can change one's presence, and I guess future as well.   One lesson I have learned is always to lock your door at night.  Even the most friendliest neighborhoods can have a tragedy take place.  It's always shocking.  I'm glad it's me that brought the news and not someone else.  

Well, I should mozy on.  It's getting late.  Don't want to bore the fans out there.  My hair is still wet from the rain.  Before I leave, I'll go to the bathroom and comb my hair into a sweet pompadour and then go into the night. 

- Tosh Berman

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 16, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 16, 2017

My friend promised me that he could connect me to Stephen Bannon.  If I can get Bannon to agree to become part of my board of directors, perhaps even the chair position, that would be fantastic.   He clearly knows how to raise money, or find money for a non-profit like mine, and also who knows, maybe even get funding for my (our) Trump Statue for the Silver Lake Meadow Park.    According to my friend, the hardcore Trump supporter, Bannon is the guy-to-go-to, for getting things done.  

The reason why I wanted to build the Trump statue was in the hopes of bringing people together.   Right now, the landscape in America is pretty insane.   We have the Anti-Democratic Party people who once belonged to the party but feel gypped, along with the Sanders people who felt cheated, and therefore are lost in the woods, and then on top of that, we have individuals who don't support any political party and are totally confused by Trump's victory.   And then there are the Democrats who are rapidly moving towards McCarthy era Republicans stance, while Republicans are siding with the Russians. Then there are the Republicans who are waiting behind the curtain to stab you-know-who in the back eventually.   Also, we have Republicans who are against Obamacare but haven't the foggiest idea how to replace it or even why - and then there are those who are racist, but also at the same time like world music.  On top of that, we have a current President, who is much admired and missed (even though he's still in office for another five days) and apparently a good man, but after eight years brought us all to this.  To be honest, I'm very confused what's happening to Planet United States of America.  That is why it's important to build a Trump Statue in the park, where neighbors, their children, dogs, and wildlife can meditate on the Trump world.  

Of course, there has to be the foundation to support my writing.  One of the people I admire is Ron L. Hubbard.  Not long ago, actually around a similar time now (the cold-war) he started a non-profit group to support his writing/thoughts.   I think it's clearly the time for me to fill the void that's there now and bring the folks back together.   But first, I have to return a library book, due that today is the due date. 

January 15, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 15, 2017

Last night I had a dream that gave me a great idea.   Before I went to sleep last night, I was listening to a recording by the Jack Quartet, who focuses on contemporary music.   When I went to their website, I read that they are actually a non-profit organization.   As I dreamed last night, I came to the conclusion that I started my own non-profit to back my work as a writer.   When I woke up to pee at around 3:42 in the morning (I have a digital clock in the bedroom) I thought this was a fantastic idea. 

The Trump statue project is depressing me because I can’t seem to get it started.  But to start up a company that’s the main purpose is for people to invest, or a better word, donate money to my career as a writer is a brilliant one.  The beauty of the donation is that since I’m non-profit, it can be a tax write-off for the donator.  Therefore easier to get funds and budget together.   One thing I have noticed throughout my life is the big difference between me and the other guy/gal down the street is that I have ideas.   It doesn’t make me better than them, but just a tad smarter. 

The key thing regarding my career is that I don’t work for another person.  One thing I’m an expert on is me, and how “me” looks at the world.  Clearly, there is a need for someone like me to give the ‘me’ perspective to readers and fans alike.   The first order of business for the day is to put together a board of directors together.   Every non-profit organization has a board, where the members are financially responsible for that organization.  In theory, they are accountable to make sure the organization is funded adequately and that they keep notes to all official meetings.  Which by law, I think the Board of Directors has to meet, at the very least, once a year.  My first thought is to get my wife on the board, my mom, a few publishers I know who are devoted to my work, and maybe a lawyer or two.  People are impressed if you have a lawyer on your board.  It shows that you’re not messing around.  And maybe one celebrity.  Since the Trump Statue is not doing so hot (but it will be !). I’m thinking of getting a key member of the Donald Trump world into my organization on the board.  My first thought is getting Stephen Bannon on my board.  Logic thinks that he at least reads.   He does own a website.  This could be a plus for me.  

I have one friend who is an outright Trump supporter, and he told me that he knows Bannon.  I wonder if I can reach Bannon through my friend.  If I get him to commit to the board and at the very least, go to one meeting per year, I think this is a win-win for me.  We will see….

January 14, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

January 14, 2017

I haven’t written in my journal for this past week, due to a sense of depression.   When this cloud enters my brain, my body turns itself off.   I think what’s causing the mood is the failure of raising money to build the Trump statue at the Silver Lake Meadow.   Not only have I failed in getting funding (so far), but also it seems that the city has, at this time, ignored my desire to place such a statue on their premise, which is the park.  

I even attempted to approach foundations from Russia to seek out funding.  Oddly enough, I couldn’t find any specific charities that are Trump supporters.   I have read in the newspapers and online that there seems to be a bent towards the view that Trump would be good for Russia, but finding a particular organization is tough.  And on top of that, I think I’m coming down with the common cold.

To fight the cold, I have been drinking honey with lemon and ginger none stop.  It cuts through the mucus in my throat quite well, but I don’t think it’s going to help my singing career.   Which is a non-starter because I don’t even have a career.  In anything.  It’s chilly outside, but I’ll go to the library on Fifth and Flower to investigate non-profit foundations that give money to the arts.    The library is five miles away from my house.  On a good day, I walk to the library, but since I'm not feeling so hot, I'll either take an LYFT ($8.75) or a bus ($1.75).   Logic says the bus, but I don't think I can deal with people today.   I tend to be the fellow that likes to sit by the aisle and spread my legs out.  I never feel comfortable when someone comes on the bus and wants to sit by me.  Even when the bus is full and the only seat available is the one next to mine.  I rather he or she stand.   First come first dibs on the seat!