SETTING THE STAGE :

HOW I BECAME A BEAST SO ENRAGED

​

 

As we last left my Beast #1,

I was nearly undone (in 1991)

 

My soul was empty and weary

And I only had a little bit of life left in me

 

I had a son

And to my credit

I never took a bite out of him

(not even a nibble!!)

 

Yet the boy wood have been bred to hate

For I had little love left

 

I knew only misery and poverty of spirit

 

Until my view was enlightened and uplifted

In just a moment of time which was gifted

 

It all began

When I had blessed and prophetic dreams

Of a Just and Holy Throne

Which was shaped just like the mountain

Which you call Half Dome

 

The Throne of a Just and Holy King!!

A Ruler over everything!!

A Creator of the Entire World!!

May His Majestic Tapestry be unfurled!!

 

For He was and is a Lion from the Tribe of Judah!!

(El Capitan is The Suffering Lion King)

 

Ah, The Glories of The Kingdom that He shall bring!!

 

Once I realized that Yosemite’s Granite Monoliths which tower

Had been carved (sculpted) with ice by a Higher Power

I realized that I no longer had to be a vengeful guy

Also, I no longer needed or desired power

 

In effect, I turned over a new leaf

Because I had a new found belief

 

My newfound Lord and friend

Was a Mighty King who controlled most everything

 

He formed me in my Mother’s womb

And He’ll be with me all the way to my tomb

 

I was grateful and praised him

And discovered newfound feelings 

Towards my wife and son

So I gave up my strife and settled down

 

We enjoyed a couple of good years

And shared some warm memories

Before the coming of a time

Of sorrowful tears and fears aplenty

 

First The Lord took my family away

But at least I was still religious 

And spent the summer of 1996 fasting

And on my knees in prayer

 

It sure helped to soften the blows

Of what was to come

For I was soon to be smacked around some

 

Before long I was homeless and drinking heavily

For I was paying for my sins aplenty

 

Every time I looked up at a telephone pole

I saw Christ strung up like a suffering scarecrow

And I couldn’t run from Him,

There was nowhere to go

 

I soon found myself homeless, jobless and broke.

It was like I was riding on a bike

Which no longer had spokes

 

One day in San Mateo

When some kids came by

They poked fun at me

The homeless guy

 

It was then that I decided

I needed a new lair

And the workers at “The Great Entertainer” (a pool hall in San Mateo)

Were caught unprepared

 

They had a Junior Pac-Man machine

And their music CD player 

Was the stuff of dreams

With it’s enormous array

Of classic rock songs

 

Before long I was working for beer

Or credits in the music machine

But after I’d clean, I’d start to dance

For often the music would have me entranced

 

It must have shown 

That I’d grown hooves

Yet I also desired

Some graceful moves

So I danced like a lady 

During the gentler parts of the songs

 

I felt that I was doing no wrong

But I might have ended up slandered or scorned

So I needed for my inner beast to be reborn

 

Thankfully nobody called me a fag

Or I’d have gotten up into their face

 

Perhaps it was because my inner beast was a stag

Who headbutted the posts 

That held up the place

 

I danced like a spastic who was eager to fight

I danced like a creature of the night

 

It almost helped me to forget

That I’d been repressed

And not able to dress like a delectable sight

 

There are few who care for a transvestite’s plight

You just have to fend for yourself

 

And I did just fine for a time

But inevitably, I ended up smacked by the Devine

 

He’d just keep dredging up my past sins.

I couldn’t seem to win.

 

So I took up the bottle

Yet when I’d get drunk

It only fueled the battle in my head.

I guess I should have stuck with sobriety instead

 

My apocalyptic clock was ticking

And it was 1999 when The (Over)Lord

Began punishing me for my past sins and crimes

 

It’s not surprising that I had

Many demons to contend with

For I had once been a dark lord of the Sith

 

Once upon a time 

My sun used to shine

But back then I found myself

Cursed by The Devine

 

In the end, I believe that Christ and I

Will get along just fine

But back then, He bade me to suffer

For the sins of my past 

Began to drag me under

 

Soon, while drunk, I’d take a stick

Or a beer bottle

And I’d bash it against my own head

 

It seemed a good way to drive out the undead

Or other unclean spirits

For it seemed that The (Over)Lord “wood’ then have mercy

And that He’d then dispel one of my demons

 

The problem was, that I was usually possessed

By a whole legion

 

Sorry if one of the demons which was expelled

Then latched itself onto you

But there was no herd of swine nearby

So what was The (Over)Lord to do?

 

Most of the chaos occurred on the Samtrans buses

And I swear it mostly started out as a cry for help

 

I can see now though

That it must have caused the other passengers unease

 

I wood have just prayed for deliverance

But The (Over)Lord wood rarely hear my pleas

 

Thus it was that my second beast was born

Beast #2 or if you prefer #776 witch has to do with the letters in my name

And he (it) (the beast#776)  was sure to be a thorn

 

He (it) raged for three years

And must have caused some fears and apprehensions

Yet when I was apprehended

I was usually just hauled away

To the mental hospital instead of prison

 

My punishments came almost solely

From The (Over)Lord who had once been risen

 

He just wouldn’t let me forget my past

So I stewed and I gnashed

And more than once 

Committed a bus-bash

 

Society was in my sights as well

For it had been conservative society’s repression

Which had started me down a dangerous road

“Witch” led me almost to the very gates of Hell

 

The first cause of my anger

Was that I was unfairly denied a military career

Just because of the length of my hair

 

During The American Revolution

No one forcibly had their head shaved

 

Unfortunately times have changed

And it made me wonder if America still exists

But mostly it just made me want to hiss

And clench my fists

 

I believe that Sarge 

Should be tarred and feathered 

Or at least placed in the stocks

Because I was repressed 

Just because I tried to rock

 

The T.V. show “Hill Street Blues”

Had me singing the blues

Because few people complain

About a long- haired female cop

Yet my dreams of a patriotic military career

Were quickly put to a stop

 

I was seen but not hired

And I took it real hard

Why, I couldn’t even land a job

In The National Guard!!

 

And it’s not necessarily

That I couldn’t keep up the pace

It’s that there was a “short- haired males only”

Policy in place

 

I was explosive, I was livid, I was enraged!!

Because I viewed these policies

As tyrannical and strange!!

 

I should have had a “write” to fight for your country

Yet you declined

What choice did I have then

But to try to raise a militia which would be accepting

Of a long- haired headbanger such as myself

 

That was the American thing for me to do,

For I still wanted to fight for The Red, White and Blue

 

Sure, it was fun.

It was quite an adventure

But my generation had other plans

So I soon became 

Quite a lonely man

 

To them, “The Spirit of ‘76”

Is just a gas station which doesn’t even fly the right colors

 

Why, they don’t even celebrate or commemorate

The victories won in The American Revolution

On the 4th of July!!!

 

For them it was all about family and fireworks.

 

George Washington and his perilous struggles

Was the last thing on their minds.

 

I guess that’s just fine?

But when they scoffed at this Revolutionary poet

IT WAS MOST UNKIND!!

 

No wonder then

That I became quite an angry and bitter guy!!

 

My generation was far too often

An un “Warrant”ed,  “Poison”ed  Motley Crew

And so I retired to the netherworld

Where I fictionally slew

 

I didn’t summon a witches brew

 

(I never was a warlock or a witch,

I just like using the word “witch” instead of “which” for

It definetely fits the tone of this story)

 

No, instead I fancied myself a warlord

And I tried to recruit ancestors from the past

Or animal spirits 

 

(I went for plenty of hikes in the redwoods,

While I was high as a kite on psychedelic drugs)

 

(it certainly helped to fuel my creativity as a writer!!)

 

I was bitter though, and so I call this collection

Of animal and (vengeful) human spirits

Witch I conjured

“The Great Horned Beast”

 

Not to be confused with Satan (the devil)

Who was once an angel who rebelled against God.

 

I didn’t believe in such entities when I was a young man.

 

I guess my “soul harvest” got out of hand

For I unwittingly recruited

An entire legion of the undead

 

Unfortunately, the unseen devil 

Was, far too often, my drill instructor

And I soon turned into a destroyer

 

After all, I had responded

To my generation’s apathy 

With viciousness and spite

And had sailed into the swirling mists

Of a dark sithian night (from 1986-1993)

 

If your country had just allowed me to serve

I might have been fulfilled

And wouldn’t have gone stalking

In my mythological east, in the search of violent thrills

(the vast Russian plains, where I attempted to cause 

A great deal of pain)

 

Udentroops of the undead had been my minions

But I was headed for a Heavenly prison

 

I can see now,

That I was predestined to be a man of sin

But it all could have been prevented

If long- haired males

Had been allowed to serve in your military.

Instead, I was headed

Towards being a man of infamy

 

I guess your repression

“Wood” come back to bite you hard.

 

I’ll let your Sarge know 

That I wasn’t a discard.

 

My Holy Metal was patriotic and

For him to diss me was idiotic

 

“Live free or die” had been my motto

But Sarge and I

Could never see eye to eye

And so I became (what else!)

A bitter and angry guy

 

“Woe to you,

O earth and sea

For the devil sends forth the beast

With great wrath

For he knows that the time is dreadfully short

 

Let him who hath understanding

Recognize The Number of The Beast

For it has a human number

It’s number is 666”

 

Get ready to have a computer chip

Inserted into your head or on your hand

With that number imprinted upon it

If you want to continue shopping at “safe”way

For it will come soon,

That dreadful day

When the brief reign of the Anti-Christ 

Shall hold sway

 

Another reason why I later rampaged

Like a vicious beast

Was because the dreaded “B-town boys”

Wouldn’t leave me in peace

 

I call them the B-town boys

Because I grew up in Burlingame, CA

But the town seemed 

Boring and Lame

Because I was repressed, stressed and harassed

Just for growing a mane!!

 

I grew up in the Ultra- conservative 1980’s no less

And that goes a long way in explaining

Why I’d later become such a pest

 

Why, I’ve been fighting “Fashion Fascism” since 1982

Perhaps you don’t care

Perhaps the enemy is you!!

 

Those suburban hicks,

The B-town boys 

Just wouldn’t give me any rest

 

I was androgenous

And maybe they could rightly guess

That when I was with my lady friends

I, too, would often wear a dress

 

I considered it kinky and fun

But the B- town boys-

Well, I’ll just be greatful that they didn’t play with guns

Because  it was for me, that they were gunning

And I wasn’t prone to running!!

 

I couldn’t dress up like Julia Roberts

From the famous film (apathetic) Woman

 

If I had worn a dress

And those thigh-high boots-

Well, let’s just say 

I wood have had to have taken up Martial Arts

And have practiced up on my kicks.

I also wood have had to have carried a big stick

Even still, I probably wood have gotten my ass kicked

 

On the other hand,

I was brave enough

To don black Rock T-shirts

And a pair of black leather pants

And a black leather vest

 

Some of the females were impressed

And “wood” often whistle

“Witch” only made the fuming B-town boys bristle

 

I tell you, they had a murderous hatred for me

And I fought back

And it led to psychotic infamy

 

(Why, I wood have to master my-

“’I just got out of prison, I’m psychotic’ look”

Just to be able to walk down their less than “fair” streets unmolested)

 

Just because I looked sexual, I was detested

 

They wood hiss and I was 

Number 1 on their hit list

 

It had me feeling less than free

In the “land of the brave”

 

It also led me towards

A very real spiritual grave

 

My chances of getting laid increased x 5

Unfortunately it was a struggle just to stay alive

 

I was handsome

Yet the fallout wasn’t pretty

 

Just because I looked fun and kinky in bed

The dreaded B-town boys

Wanted me dead

 

My tale wasn’t as cute as “Tootsie” (Dustin Hoffman)

 

“Some like it hot” (Marilyn Monroe)

But few like it as hot as “Mrs. (Spit)fire”  (Robin Williams)

 

This much I know,

My only “Busom Buddy” (Tom Hanks)

Became The Great Horned Beast

 

He at least defended my writes

Yet He also turned me into

A most dreadful sight

 

As far as redeeming qualities

I had plenty of those

But I couldn’t get too far in B-town

Because I wore sexy clothes

 

It was even worse 

When I was with a pretty lady

For then envy wood come even more into play

 

They were jealous

Of my hard earned writes

That God had freely given

 

It was through envy that they were driven

 

The bottom line

Is that men can’t dress like objects of desire here

Unless they are singers up on the stage

And it had me wanting to rage

 

(I woodn’t have become so battle tested

Had I been able to walk down your

Less than fair streets unmolested)

 

Discrimination, repression and intimidation

Were the watchwords of the day (in the 1980’s)

 

They thought that they wood

Expel me from their fair? town

But they were wrong

I stuck around!!

 

I can see now,

That it was because The (then unknown to me) Lord wanted me to report

On what was going down

 

(don’t think that I’ve forgotten how the ultra-conservative B-town boys

Would gather together on Hillside Boulevard on Halloween and throw eggs on every innocent car that passed by)

 

Once I went just to witness the event. 

I was fortunate to escape unscathed

For they almost turned on me like a mob depraved

 

If you were to have asked me, they themselves were repressed, and just like

The villians in the film “Easy Rider”, 

They viewed free-spirits as potential scapegoats

For their repressed anger. 

To me, they were a danger.

 

But I’m getting ahead in the story

 

I realize that just the sight

Of a flamboyant, sexual male

Is just too much for your society to handle

 

People often talk about freedom

But sometimes the reality is that they can’t handle it.

They’ll respond to the sight of a sexual male

By dissing him as just a freak

It’s no wonder then, that I’m not meek!!

 

Even worse, they can often respond

With hatred and spite

 

I fought back

And that was the first crucial step

In my becoming a creature of the night

 

Let my backtrack

And discuss all the flack

That I unfairly received

Just for allowing my hair to grow long

 

It led me to become a poet

Who wrote dreary songs

 

After all,

Growing your hair long

Is one of the most natural things that you can do

 

Jesus Christ did it too!!

 

So did Samson

And he was no mere mouse

He brought down the house!!

 

Obviously, your military

Can’t handle individuality

So shaving the heads of the recruits

Is the first damn thing they do

 

But I was denied countless other careers too

 

It’s all perfectly “legal”

To discriminate

Against a long- haired male

 

No need to wonder then

How so many of them often fail

And then end up in your jails

 

It’s a cruel policy

Witch to me appears stale

 

I’d like to know why

A long- haired male can’t aspire

To a career at “Safe”way? (a supermarket chain)

 

What’s the matter?

Wood they scare all your customers away?

 

It’s a shame because I would have looked

At such a stocking job as a career

And I would have (later) had no cause

To spread fear

 

The first job I ever had was at Marine World Africa U.S.A.

They could afford to be up front about it-

They flat out said that any man who let his hair grow long

Wood be fired right on the spot

 

Whatever happened to the idea of equal opportunities?

 

I was livid because of discriminating policies such as these

 

I tell you, just growing my own hair long

Started a vicious chain of events

 

Just the type of thing that more tolerance “wood” prevent

 

(I feel I should point out here

That I am very greatful for the tolerance

Your society shows nowadays.)

 

In the 1980’s- social stigmas could be fierce

 

I felt like I was being punished 

Because the Cold War was on

And desperately needed to be won

But the “hippie” generation

Witch preceded me

Had been anti-militaristic

 

That Sure As Hell Wasn’t My Fault!!

I was just a little kid back then!!

 

I would have loved to have been able to help out during the Cold War!!

 

I wood have easily shed my blood

For the freedom of Western Europe!!

(the land of my ancestors!!)

 

Like I’ve said, 

I was always willing to fight for The Red, White and the Blue

This doesn’t necessarily mean you!!

(France and Great Britain fly those colors too!!)

 

I wasn’t a dummy!! 

 

I knew that “The Soviets were the Blues” (“Grace under pressure” by “Rush”)

 

I had read “The Bridge at Andau” (about the brutal stomping of Hungary

By the cruel Soviet empire) by the super writer James Michener

(Alright, truthfully, I couldn’t finish the book; it’s too depressing!!)

 

But I was an individual

And not willing to be a shaven-headed conscript

So what the heck did anyone care?!

 

Apparently, the important lesson

Which should have been learned

In the far- fetched, but nevertheless

Very important, morale boosting film “Red Dawn”

Has been lost on far too many of my ex-compatriots

(the film is about a fictionalized communist invasion

of Your United States)

 

(FREE) MILITIAMEN MATTER!!!

 

Alright, I’ll admit it,

I wouldn’t allow Patrick Swayze’s character to control me.

But I “woodn’t”  have been battling him for the leadership of the ragged tribe

 

I wood have just been struggling to stay alive!!

 

WAY TO GO, though, YOU WOLVERINES!!

 

I can relate!!

 

I wasn’t raised to be one of your subservient Marines!! 

 

I, TOO, WAS A WOLVERINE!!

 

And in case you are wondering

How this film could be so important to Your Public Morale back then,

It was released just a decade after Your Vietnam debacle ended

 

That was by far one of the lowest points in Your Nations history.

 

For Crimenie’s Sake!!

The poor soldiers returning from that “police action”

Were spit at and called baby killers

(though not by me!!)

 

Here’s a tip; The next time you fight “a Police Action”

Why don’t you draft the Police?

 

Or at least don’t draft conscripts

Who are totally opposed to the conflict

 

Heck, if you need more recruits,

Maybe you ought to open your military

To free- spirits like me

Who are eager to fight!!

 

Don’t ask?

Don’t tell?

I wanted to yell!!

Cause I was mad as Hell!!!

 

Nowadays, you are willing to allow Homosexuals

(and presumedly bi-sexuals)

To serve in your military

 

What about Long- haired headbangers?

How about Afro- Americans  [(wo)men with Afros]?

How about Mohicans  [(wo)men with full Mohawks]?

 

Oops, sorry! I guess I’m just asking too much.

Freedom is apparently more than discipline can handle.

No wonder then that I flew off the handle.

 

Sorry if I veered from the point I was trying to make.

Sorry if I was rambling.

But I am the Luny-bungler

And this is my manifesto

 

And I’ll offer my life on a silver platter

Because I still have some Values that matter

 

Oh, I remember now,

I was going to mention

Just how damaging your hairpocracy was

To a free spirit such as myself

 

Mainstream 1980’s society said in effect

That just by growing my hair long

I was taking a big step towards becoming uncivilized

 

It was a policy witch wasn’t wise

 

It reminds me of how the Native Americans,

After the U.S. cavalry had beaten them into submission;

They had their hair shorn away

While they were imprisoned

On your reservations

 

It was cultural warfare,

Nothing less,

A policy which I could only detest

 

Where was the A.C.L.U?

I tell you, I needed you!!

 

I quickly went from a bright lad

Who earned mostly A’s and B’s in school

To a street survivor

Who had to make his own rules

 

Theirs was a ship of fools as far as I was concerned

And my enmity burned

 

As for power,

They thought they could get along

Without allowing me my fair share

Beware!! That policy hit a snare!!

 

Later I wood prove to be less than forgiving.

It was because I had been denied my fair chance

To earn a living!!

 

I guess I should have just stuck with stockwork

And have been satisfied

But they lied

And it wounded my pride

 

All that was left for me were scraps from the table

Perhaps now I could handle it

Back then I wasn’t able

 

The worst thing was that they acted

Like there was no repressive policy in place

 

Conservative people

Kept trumping up your state

As a great land of opportunity

 

Well, I assure you

That opportunity doesn’t exactly knock

If you are long- haired

Because you want to rock

 

I should have just gone and purchased a van

So that I could live “down by the river” (Chris Farley)

For my chances of succeeding in business

Became just a mere sliver

 

They wore their hairpocracy

Out in the open for all to see

 

Where were the liberal lawyers

Who should have been

Standing up for our writes!!

 

I said the Hell with this

And I learned how to fight!!

 

Being an American ought to mean more

Than just being born 

In the right geographical location

 

I was denied countless vocations

But I didn’t just sit around and stew

In my own mind, at least

I raged against you!!

 

I grew mean, Mean, MEAN!!

Because I didn’t care for your Tyrannican dream

It had me wanting to scream!!

 

If this is America,

Then why didn’t I have the same writes

I wood have enjoyed back in 1776?

 

Back then, I could have been a long- haired soldier!!

Fueled with fury, I grew bolder!

 

They said I had to be clean- cut 

To be an “All American”

But I woodn’t comply

Instead I shrieked out “Metallican- American” Do or Die!!

 

And don’t even get me started

About all the harassment I received

Just for wearing splendid 18th century coats

 

I’d be harassed on the fourth of July!!

 

I’d be harassed just one single day removed from Halloween!!

 

Like I’ve said, their’s was a Tyrannican dream

But I was a poet, so I knew how to sceam!!

 

I had the God- Given writes

To Life, Liberty and the pursuit of my Happiness

 

What was it that was so hard to understand?

 

If you can’t deal with it

Perhaps you ought to move to another land!!

 

At least my own mind was mein!!

 

In there, I fictionally raised

A mythical Armee that was Grande

As I set out to be a scourge upon the land

 

Maybe General Patton never had his chance to attack the Russians

But I did, and the blood was gushing

 

My Franco- Prussian- Austrian alliance

Shouted DEFIANCE!!

 

Just like Judas Priest

I was unleashed (upon) the east

And it was upon the carnage that I wood feast

As I was well on my way to becoming a beast

 

I “shrieked for vengeance”

And vengeance was mein

Even when I first crossed the Rhine 

In my mind

 

It was Beauty within the Beast for real

For in my head, there were tank treads

And they were Grinding Steel 

 

My belly felt like I had devoured a meal

My heart could barely still feel

My only concern was that the Soviets were made to reel

And indeed, they were on the run

I must have been under a dark cloud

To have ever thought such a deadly game could be fun

 

My gears would grind

Clankity, clank, clank, clank

And the Soviets wood fear my approaching and poaching tanks

 

As far as my (str)ife in the real world,

Well, the cultural confict was much the same

Naturally, I was still repressed and stressed 

Just for growing a mane

 

But at least the armament used was more tame

I recruited animal spirits 

And I prayed to my ancestors

 

I prayed to Odin and to Thor

Because I needed a Mythical sword

Because those B-town boy brutes-

I really, really abhorred

 

I was less than overjoyed

At being under-employed

So my fury was more than a match

For the spite of the B-town boy brutes

 

They conformed,

And they wore a preppy uniform of Izod shirts 

And they “wood” smile at you and act “nice”

But I knew better

They accosted me just because I wore leather

And I was a victim of their spite

When they’d start fights with me

On Saturday nights

 

They were Fashion Fascists

And as far as I was concerned

They might as well have been wearing

Steel-toed jackboots

 

But they were sure barking up the wrong tree

When they messed with me

 

I didn’t believe in God or Satan at the time

Yet I had plenty of help from the Devine

 

Animal spirits. That’s what he lent to possess me.

 

And like I said, they were barking up a dangerous tree

For I was fueled with fury

And more than once, they fled in a hurry!

 

Alright, so that’s what went down 

In a mildly tyrannical, suburban 1980’s

 

That’s what led me to become a man of sin

 

For exactly seven years after challenging a priest

The devil took hold of my soul

And I was slowly transformed into a beast

 

That “wood” be from 1986- 1993.

 

I recovered

And thanks to God’s Love

I was full of love myself

To The Lord and my family (1994- 1996)

 

But then my sins returned with a vengeance

 

By 1997 I was homeless

And fasting, though not by choice

 

By 1998, I was drinking heavily

To drown out The (Over)Lord’s voice

 

By 1999, I was out of my mind

And getting smacked about by the Devine

 

He was my best friend 

Yet also my worst enemy at the same time.

Needless to say, it drove me out of my mind

 

Clearly I went insane from the pain and anguish

 

It got so bad

That after getting drunk

I’d often break the bottle

Over my own head.

It sometimes worked to drive out the undead

 

I woodn’t have become a very real scourge upon the land

If I hadn’t been getting smacked around

By The (Over)Lord’s fist

Once that happened

Any chance for peace was missed

 

He wouldn’t let me escape my past

And reliving my past meant being reminded

Of how your repression had kicked my ass

 

Monseignor Murphy gave me an exorcism

And I tried to give myself a few of my own 

But the devil wood still find his way home

And into the weary depths of my soul.

Then I’d roam about and hiss 

Because I’d think of all the exorcisms I missed!!

 

Anyhow, I just wanted to set the stage 

And to show you how I became a beast enraged