Uptown Uptown Uptown

9:00 a.m. on January 16th, 2026. It is bitterly cold outside. The wind cuts you like a knife, the cliche wielded with errant caution.

An incident involving my father just popped into my head from the center of 1991, 35 years ago. Despite everyone warning me not to, I lived with my father after my mother passed away, and figured he had been a change band as we all had been, but that was not to be the case.

I gathered a lot of material and possessions and had them stored in the basement of my parents’ house, and my father, having not much to do, wandered into the basement and saw various items, including a mixtape that Jet Watley had created named after an Iggy Pop song, “I got my cock in my pocket.”

My father saw the tape and was furious and felt I was disrespecting my mother by owning a cassette with that name. I was fairly certain then, as I am now, that my mother would not have cared.

It is the Friday of a three-day weekend, and most everyone is happy about that. I know I am. I was in bed by 11:00 and slept soundly, waking up at 6:17, 8 minutes before the alarm clock went off. So I gave myself a head start.

Mike is occupied with his beloved, and Bill is on the road due to return tomorrow, the day that Mike’s beloved heads back to the West Coast. Bill remarked that Mike has no sense of direction, and it’s true. They had a plan, Mike and his beloved, to visit the Statue of Liberty, so they took the PATH train to the World Trade Center and found it to be too cold, so they opted to go to Times Square

But Mike did not know how to get to Times Square, so he called m,e and I told him we could take any train from down there to 42nd Street, which would get him to Times Square. But he could not understand if it was uptown or downtown, and I had to remind him that it was uptown, uptown, uptown.

The same thing happened last Friday when he wound up in Brooklyn after getting on the wrong train; instead of going uptown, he went downtown and wound up in Brooklyn.

Mike and his beloved had dinner at a BBQ in Times Square, as well as seeing the third Avatar movie. Bill and I saw the first Avatar movie and did not like it, not because of the movie, but because it was an IMAX and we were in the first row, so it was very uncomfortable, and we had difficulty following the plot. We are so uninterested that we never thought anything about it again.

Remembering a conversation with my brother Brian a few weeks ago, thinking about how he was told that he was not fired because of the regard in which my mother was held. Larry Ioli told him that. Larry could usually be found before work at the hilltop tavern on Essex Street getting an eye opener before heading into the office. He was one of those managers who was thrown out after being caught embezzling for a number of years.

But the name that popped into my mind was Lou Nagy. He was a character from Lincoln Park and drove a forklift. He had a filthy mouth on him that was generally funny if not off-color, and had a Newport hanging out of the corner.

I played guitar for a little while last night and it went quite well I have to say I was inspired by Jeff Buckley and tried to figure out a certain song but as things happened things don’t go in the direction that I intend that something new comes out of it that is what happened last night though I wound up playing Please Please Me by The Beatles my version not as faithful but still key elements were involved

I am really no good on my own. I thought to get in the way, and they’re not very good thoughts. I spoke to Mike earlier; he called me up while his beloved was getting ready to shoot some videos, which is nice, I suppose. And Mike was telling me that he’s so in love with his beloved Dell laptop.

So much so that Mike was saying how he wished he had a Dell laptop rather than the HP that he purchased. I have to admit it pissed me off a bit. Considering that Mike had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the concept of owning a laptop, and now he is envious of his beloved’s laptop.

Beloved also has a hotspot which they’ve been using for Wi-Fi, which made Mike very happy, but Mike hasn’t done anything to get Wi-Fi for his apartment as far as I know. And he’s mainly using the laptop to look at porn, not to increase his computer skills, which would only help him in a job search. No, it’s all about porn.

I was hoping he’d use the laptop to write his poems and his fabled play which I have heard so much about that is stored in his dome but so far don’t say no typing no creativity just a whole bunch of masturbation. But it’s his life and not mine, and he can live it anyway he wants, because that is obviously what he is doing anyway

Turn it on again

Thursday, January 15th (2016) 2026
AI is a disappointment, and it’s only going to get more and more disappointing as we go on.

Last night I finished watching the Jeff Buckley documentary, which is very good, ultimately sad, and John and Yoko One to One both were on HBO, so it was very easy, and I didn’t have to look for the remote. As far as I could recall, the only thing I posted was a video clip of (Alaska) Last Goodbye as well as a description of the documentary and my encounter with Jeff Buckley 30 years ago

After completing my sleep routine, I went to bed a little before 11:00 p.m. (It looked) I slept quite soundly and slept quite soundly. Fucking AI is messing up.
I’m going to leave all the AI errors in this post for tonight.

I’m sure I posted it previously, on December 15th, my main Facebook account was deleted, not by Mary.

I requested a review and an appeal, and have never heard anything in return. It was annoying, not the end of the world. I still had a backup. So I used the backup, which was actually the first account that I had with Facebook

Back in 2005, I had a friend, an online acquaintance at Columbia University, which was an Ivy League college, and he offered to sign me up, and I figured, sure, it’s just a fly by night thing, no need to get into it, and so I used John osed@yahoo.com to get into it. Eventually, I forgot all about it and opened up another account with my Gmail account, and that works okay.

Occasionally I was blocked from posting, usually a song by the Slits from their album Cut which featured Tessa Ari and Viv covered in mud and naked, but yet covered in mud on their album cover.

The blockage lasted for a few days, and sometimes I learned my lesson, sometimes I did not, but I am now thinking that it’s an artificial intelligence design that has forced me off their website

So that was December 15th, and I figured everything was all right last night. I watched John and Yoko and Jeff Buckley and posted that Jeff Buckley video, as well as a brief critique of the Jeff Buckley documentary. I went to bed at 11:00 p.m.

At 12:30 AM, Facebook decided they had enough of me, and I was off the rolls once again, with no chance of returning, so all those friends and family and photographs and whatnot that I had posted or instantly deleted with no hope of returning

Whereas it bothered me in December, in January, it was not such a big deal. I didn’t care about it, I was done. I was thinking about taking a break from social media anyway, and it seems like social media made the decision for me
Mike, who is with his beloved, who had flown in last night, was very distressed, so I tried to set up another account to placate him using my actual name, but I was barred from doing that. So I went to the Old Reliable Albert Ross and set one up for him, and also contacted various friends and family once more, letting him know what had happened to my situation. Summer shocked somewhere dismaye,d some were confused

I myself right now am pretty much more annoyed by it now than I was a few hours ago, and as I said, this is my last stand. Zuckerberg can go to hell with the money that he throws at Trump and his six nuclear reactors, but she is building to fuel is artificial intelligence, what should I call it ?