Gemini 27° (June 17)
Had some oatmeal and fruit and then went to the beach for two hours. I can’t believe it was only that long. I can feel I may have overdone it sun wise. Had lunch outside at Flying Fish. And then just a little soupy sales for dinner.
I’m having a hard time getting materials from one of the Afterglow artists this year and it makes me sad; providing materials is such an easy thing for an artist; and such a necessary thing for a venue (which artists know). It just seems weird and selfish to me.
One of the topics I’d like to tackle today are those psychic storefronts everywhere. You know how in every neighborhood, including the most expensive ones, like say the West Village in Manhattan which I called home for fifteen years, you find not one, not two but several Psychic joints where, if you were to enter, you’d be greeted by a typically older black-haired woman, seeming to what to discourage you from asking anything of her, let alone her services. Well there was a time, during the early Starsky + Cox years, when we first half-jokingly and then seriously but naively imaginaed taking over these establishments and making them chic versions a la Starsky + Cox; but one day at Jackson Square in the West Village we saw a whole bunch of Russian thugs coming out of one of those places and it suddenly dawned on us (rather late, probably—you all likely know this already) that these places were fronts for the Russian mob and probably tiny bits of money laundering. But of course! But maybe more than that.
Some Ptown friends had an apartment on Bank Street in a large building near Bleecker. I always thought the building creepy when I passed it pretty much daily for that fifteen years; but here, friends had a friend, a woman, who had an apartment on the top floor; but she had moved to another city and, because it was really cheap slash something shady was going on she kept it and these friends of hers we knew paid part of the rent and stayed there sometimes and they offered us in on the deal to split the rent even more. We stayed there and nearly died from what was obviously a gas leak (that we couldn’t report because we weren’t supposed to be there) but from next door, through the wall to this dump’s living room, we could hear loud fucking, but never ending loud fucking; women moaning and screaming—no doubt faking it—and low male voices, Russian voices.
The hallways of the building were filthy, the tiled floors strewn, sometimes with broken green beer bottles. There were always Russian thugs outside, on the sidewalk; if not the same exact guys we saw coming from the psychic on Jackson square, then part of the same tribe, shall we say.
Taken all together I feel that Starsky + Cox have a sort of history with the concept of these ubiquitous “psychics”, “readers”, curiously lodged in all the best neighborhoods. My spidey sense tells me that it’s money laundering, it’s prostitution, it’s sex trafficking, it fucking all of it. And the fact that that fronts for this criminality were the very store fronts I once innocently thought about “buying up” to turn into chic Starsky + Cox versions of the same? O. M. G.. They are there for a reason and it’s not a good one.
So I think this is going to be my angle of attack.
In other news I’m fucking pissed off about Chris Hardwick. Sorry, but there is no fucking way he was abusive. I mean there is but he wasn’t. The ex accusing him I’m sorry but I know her type. I’m serious. I side with women 99 and 99/100% of the time—anybody who knows me knows that—so my emphatic defense of Chris doesn’t come easy. And I concede: I don’t know. But, you know, to see him fired off his show and his name be taken off his brand. Fuck that. I told him: Let me tell you something: Don’t lose heart. The spidey sense says this isn’t a derailment but a redirect. Also people aren’t really buying this one. I see you very clearly rising from whatever ashes this might create. This is more a test of how you deal with it. Don’t succomb to any negative hyphenated words that start with self-. Weather this with grace and ultimately speak your truth. We are with you!
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360 degrees spread over 365 days.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.* Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
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