Why Cat Marxism Was Doomed to Fail

 Comic by Daniel Smallegange, all rights reserved.

This Thought So Fraught

There is a thought which bores and penetrates

It confiscates and complicates

It is naught but a thought

But a thought that is fraught

With perils and unknown consequences

And common senses do not

Prevail

It nags and resuscitates

This thought so fraught

Bestirs beliefs and hopes and dreams which were

Flatlining or otherwise

Not trending, unbending

It makes a mind hesitate

This thought which penetrates

Spreads like a flood

Muddies waters and intentions

Naught but a thought

But a thought that is fraught

With dangers and unknown paths

Speckled with hopes

This thought so fraught

By: Daniel Smallegange, 2024, all rights reserved.

Be Cautious of Humans

Be cautious of humans

As a general rule

For most of these are bad

And inclined to treachery greed and or

Stupidity

It is a fact and a sad one at that

A hard truth you cannot deny plausibly

If ever there was a hearing regarding the human race

The outcome would be obvious and quite

Predictable

One cannot paint over cracks if they become chasms

Be wary of these

They leave a path strewn with destruction and refuse

They consume with relish

Be cautious in approach as also they

Can be generous and kind and

Beautiful of heart and mind

But these in the minority

And even more dangerous as they

Can allow one to

Lower one's defences

So be cautious towards this race

The human race

The majority of humans are

Bad

By: Daniel Smallegange, copyright 2024.

Me Doing Karaoke at the Frankenstein Wrap Party

A friend took this of me doing Karaoke of Leonard Cohen's Tower of Song at the wrap party for the movie I just finished. I had to go on right after the star and the director did a duet so no pressure, haha. Not the best sound quality as you know my adoring fans were so loud (kidding), but this is one of my favourite songs, just the first 30 secs.

Bring Out Your Dead, fiction by Daniel Smallegange

And so, ‘bring out your dead’ they cried, and came seeking and came finding those dead and those alive also, despite the seemingly specific nature of the advertising. Flushing the streets and those places of rest, salvation and ill-repute of those they deemed enemies of the entity, defilers and defiers of the grace of God, or just plain ruffian scum. 

Cries of ‘bring out your dead’ and the heavy tread of government issued boots caused howls of fear to ripple and sweep through the boroughs and dens of inequity. This followed also by a general crawling and a running and slithering away as the fearful and/or guilty sought solution and refuge, the sweet embrace of secure walls and locked doors. This while the likes of I, proud card carrying member of Ruffian Scum local 898, lay stone drunk in a pool of self manufactured spittle and brine, clinging to a whiskey tree and ashtray as one would two lovers of extreme and equal talent. Out of mind and blind with sleep, lost to the cries of ‘bring out your dead’ until the hard tread of government issued boots made introduction uncomfortably to my very personal ribs and spleen.

And so they caught me, bound me, raged me, dragged me. I, Union Goon Second Class and humble narrator! What ignominy, ruin, disgrace. Dragged free and away from the asylum of my whiskey tree. My cries of ‘I ent dead’ largely ignored, the source of mirth and much pleasure. Yes, caught, dragged, found and bound like a hare soon for the pot. And I said through lips daubed rouge: ‘But sirs and enemies, I en't dead so much as I know.’ They laughed and spit: ‘Soon to be corrected.’

Desolately drawn, kicked, prodded shoved through the streets, trailing an assortment of fluids, clear or red or green/yellow, thick, thin or viscous. Other’s poor fortune turns to my luck as captors trot off, in pursuit of these and lessen in number. Through the streets they drag and haul, roped up like a like a sacrificial dishonoured lover, like a broken bird of prey, like fear and like sin caught in the open day light. ‘Bring out your dead’ more cries of, and the wagon piled three deep with corpses and dust in my eyes making tears of mud and choke. Just hoping to survive the day and welcome the embrace of night. And then they are fewer even, my captors and unwanted honour guard down to two, and falling behind the wagon, isolated and struggle and ropes made looser and reaching and a razor from my boot finds my hand and I am on him, I bite him, I bite him hard, in the knee and in the groin bringing him down and upon the other, said razor between teeth now kissing his neck slowly all the way across and more rouge flowing. ‘Bring out your dead’ he shall cry no more.

Now further freed and it tastes like copper. My velocity of escape is as fast as the half deead may limp, but fast enough, and much faster than corpses. Soon to rest and sleep in the warmth of mud... But first to seek the source of a new and uncompromised whiskey tree.

By: Daniel Smallegange

Capitalize on the Time and Space

Capitalize on the time and space

Granted by the un ambition

Of your foes and comrades and enemies

Alike

Their lack of initiative against you

May well be and is

Your only chance at salvation

Salivate at the thought of

Escaping the noose and extending some

Breathing room this extenuating situation provides

Portends

And read the symbols of the winds

And then think of maybe

How to make amends

For your faults and address the shortcomings

Long lists of such

Your critics have amassed

Capitalize soon for

Your foes and comrades and enemies

May yet retrain their forces

Against you

And tighten the noose once more

By: Daniel Smallegange, all rights reserved 2024.

Pay No Mind

Pay no mind

Pay no mind

Time to sit and just unwind

Time to catch a wayward glance

Time to watch as strangers dance

Throughout the background

Out of the light

Into focus then

Out of sight

But through it all

Pay no mind

Pay no mind

Silent and still

Be not unkind

In thought or deed

Keep your council

Calculate the odds

Pick the best path

Through the fog

Enjoy the view and pass the time

But pay no mind

Pay no mind

And hope the gods react in kind

And hope the fates react

In kind

By: Daniel Smallegange, all rights reserved 2024.