PR Moves

Instant addiction print by @recycledpropaganda

Before blasting us with another photo bomb, publicly repulsive stunt, or staged photo op. The people you forsake, by each posted misfake, want you to open your mind not your mouth. If not your mind, then how about your heart?

You make mistakes that bind us because of your blindness. Because you see only the few whose money you’ve desired, And not the public caste into your classist mire.

Your calculated and calous willingness to forsake those who you swore to serve in this space comes with a cost. You have milked the public of their patience, their safety, and their lives.

The oaths from your office opine outrageous orders so often. Your words have become nothing more than malicious and misleading statistics. Attached to deflection, blame, and party li(n)es. We have had enough of your politricks.

Pictures of your “work” show nothing but a reckless climb up a gilded ladder of success, Your policy and lack thereof shows that you are willing to cut each corner at the expense of everyone’s health.

Your anti-public relativism has been reduced to desperately disparate posts to a selfie cult of personality. Seeking and leaching the likes like an addict on a bender. But you’re in control. You’re hubris assuredly saying you could quit at anytime.

Dis(sing the)appointment

I guess it’s one way to look at things
Unhinged, hinged, singed, impinged.

Signs or is it sins, of designs never meant to have wings
Ideas that could not walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Pointing the way to dead ends ahead

Our turn will come,
So why is it always a left when we need to go right?


I ‘m stuck being neither well nor sick
Stuck in the cracks created by pandemic and panic
Stuck by a disease that causes unease waiting for the physic

Stuck until an elixer enters my arm through a needle’s prick
Stuck wondering what magic is left out there that will do the trick
Stuck holding my breath as the smoke of disinformation grows thick.

Stuck in the space found between feeling
Stuck consumed by wondering
Stuck wanting and wishing,

To scream out a word that begins with F
and ends in _uck!


I’m stuck!

Object at [un]rest

The Laws of Physics are less clear to me.

Always taught what went up usually came down.
Resting objects remained at rest etc., etc.,
That went for me too.

I was an object at rest and then
non-physical forces acted upon me.
Duty, fear, and commitment to name a few.

The subject of rest; cut short out of self-interest,
or was it the forces of engrained social preservationists?
Responsibility and care to name just two.

Rest, no longer the object as unseen forces push me into action.
Too little, too much? And now the reaction to my inaction.
I have become an object at unrest too.


Arguably, it is easy to accept that routines and perspection are not meant to go together. I can tell my perspective is shifting because, in each moment, the thoughts that were, are not any longer, and the mind is now, somehow, processing things/something(s)/everything differently despite repeatedly seeing similar situations beforehand. This leads me to a few questions:

What’s changed,  what needs to change, and what else have I been missing? 

2 metres

Are 2 metres enough? When it comes to school, keeping at least 2 metres apart may be the only way from keeping us all from being 2 metres under. How far will this go?

The desks rearranged again row by row 2 metres apart.
Imaginary bunkers with plexiglass barricades,
face masks, and the scent of Eau de Désinfectant will
these hallowed spaces.

Sombre, subdued, and still only somewhat sterile,
Schools, once again, turning into subdivisions
where halves of haves and have nots will be asked to sit.
Whose decisions have all been made for them by people who
felt it too unsafe to meet in person while deciding whether to
send the future back together.

Hands off,
Keep apart 2 metres,
Stop singing,
Stop touching your face,
And for the love of humanity
Keep your masks on at all times!

Learn, play, line up,
get scanned, and repeat.

Keep your distance.
Make sure you smile, check in online,
and do all of your work,

Don’t forget to act like this is good for you.

Go home. Don’t get sick or else.
Limit contact with anyone. Wash your hands.
Come back tomorrow, and we will try to survive together,
like this, all over again, from 2 metres apart. 


Happy Father’s Day.
In the past, I have shared posts about fatherhood, but this year I asked my dad to share some of his thoughts. What you will read below is dad’s first ever blog post and I could not be more proud to be his son.


by Bill Gourley

Becoming a father begins at a very very young age, as a son or grandson in my case.

Who were the ones teaching us about life or guiding us towards what is important and the consequences about right and wrong as I grew up?

Were our family teachers …
A) kind, caring, with fair understanding of our learning process?
B) fierce and excessively heavy handed and demanding?
C) abusive – physically, sexually, or verbally?
D) full of boundaries or open range
E) alcoholics or abusers of other substances?
F) believers in God or other higher powers?
G) hard working or slackers, frugal or extravagant?
H) understanding with allowable conversation or closed off from differences?
I) sharing and unselfish or selfish in worldly things?
J) builders of a safe environment with nourishment and clothing and all the necessities of life?
K) loving, happy, thoughtful, uplifting, with encouraging words?

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