CHICANONAUTICA GRUMBLES IN AN EXTREME HEAT WARNING

 

Chicanonautica is all about the heat, over at La Bloga.

The heat's on all over America:

In Arizona, we've got a monsoon with massive haboobs:

Dehydration is an issue:

 And we're cooking:

CASE OF MY MISSING BOOKS

I hoped that I wouldn’t have to write this one. Sometimes, if you wait a bit, the problem fixes itself, but not this time. So now I have to explain . . .

If you tried to buy my books on Amazon in the last few weeks, you've gotten a “Sorry we can’t find this page” message and a picture of a cute doggie with a suggestion to try Amazon’s home page. When you did that, you get the message with another cute doggie.

Amazon has a remarkable supply of cute doggies.

I am a little worried that no one has contacted me about this. It did seem like my books are selling. Royalty checks keep coming in. Is anybody still buying my books?

No, it’s not a nefarious move by ICE to stop my works from rousing the Chicanos of California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Nevada, Utah, and Colorado to simultaneously secede from the USA and establish Aztlán as a NeoAztecan theocracy (as if I would do such a thing or it would even be possible). 

So I got in touch with Strange Particle Press. They got back to me right away. Turns out it’s one of those annoying, Kafkaesque/corporate pendejadas in a world run by brain-damaged politicians and hallucinating AI. Lawyers are working on it. Should be cleared up soon.

Did a quick check: The Strange Particle High Aztech, Smoking Mirror Blues, and Cortez on Jupiter are gone. Just doggies. But, Guerrilla Mural of a Siren’s Song is still available . . . 

 

If you want a copy, I recommend ordering now.

Checked a few hours later. A Google search for Guerrilla Mural got a doggie but going through the main Amazon page brings up its order page. Still no sign of my novels. Peculiar. Guess I’ll keep checking.

Knowing that my books were easily available gave me a peace of mind. Now I’m uneasy. It feels like I’m on probation, like my status as a “real” writer has been knocked down.

But then, is any of this real?

At least I still have my delusions of grandeur. . .

Stay tuned. I will update.

CHICANONAUTICA ON A WHOLE LOTTA LITTLE APOCALYPSES GOING ON

 

Its raining little apocalypses in Chicanonautica, at La Bloga.

What is that smell?

And it's everywhere:

Could be coming from the White House?

Be careful out there:

CHICANONAUTICA LOOKS FOR AMERICA IN AZTLÁN

 

Once again, Chicanonautica goes looking for America, in Aztlán, at La Bloga.

What a better thing to do on the 250th 4th of July?

And of course, fireworks:

There's chilaquiles out there!

And Zorro lives!

WEIRD VEHICLES ON THE ROAD

 I like to cherchez la weird while on the road.

And sometimes the weird is literally on the road.

 

As in weird vehicles.

 

Not just the occassional goof wherein something unusual gets temporarily cranked out of the corporate assembly lines.

I mean those acts of defiance when the consumers hijack the product and remake it into something more suited to their sensibilities and lifestyles.

Or some forgotten artifact of the past is rescued, giving it a new life, traveling in time as well as space.

 

Or just making art with wheels or treads.

There are a lot of cybertrucks in Northern Arizona, but not in their virgin state.

This pseudo-Martian colony is going rogue. 

WHERE FOR ART THOU, AMERICA?

When this goes up, Emily and I will be off on another getaway. Yeah, I know we just did one a couple of weeks ago, but you gotta do what you like to do when you get the chance, and schedules in this world-gone-mad force you to be fiendishly opportunistic. Muhahahahahahahah!

And we have made getting out of town on the Fourth of July into a tradition. Relax out of the Metro Phoenix heat island. Come back when the fireworks have quieted and the gunpowder stench is beginning to fade.

It’s also a good time to do the search for America thing. Where is America? Just what is it these days?

It’s different in the Arizona outback. And with the world going through the current shitstorm.The times, they are a-changing, as the rock star who won the Nobel prize said.

Meanwhile, here are some pictures I’ve taken recently of some nearby mutations.

CHICANONAUTICA SHARES A GONZO WRITING DIARY

You can read it in Chicanonautica, over at La Bloga.

In the gonzo traditon, I write on a road trip:

Because I'm teaching how to write Gonzo Science Fiction, Chicano Style: 

I even experiment with writing under the influence:

 Will I ever be comfortable in the role of teacher?

SCENES FROM A PRE-SUMMER GETAWAY

It’s not summer yet, but it’s hotter than hell.

I’ve got a weird feeling about this summer–and not just more recording breaking (or should that be melting?) heat.

That’s why Emily and I do these little getaways, up north, Prescott, Jerome, Sedona.

Where it’s about twenty degrees cooler.

You know you’ve been living in Arizona when eighty degrees Fahrenheit seems cool.

And I had to write my story for my “Gonzo Science Fiction, Chicano Style” class on the road, in a haunted hotel, and at roadside, while waiting for AAA to come fix a flat.

Yup, it’s gonna be weird, gonzo . . .

CHICANONAUTICA TAKES NOTES ON MY NOTES

I'm getting ready to play teacher in Chicanonautica at La Bloga:

It'll be gonzo:

 

And maybe a bit mystical:

But I don't believe in gurus:

 There will be demystification:

 

 

SUDDENLY THIS SUMMER

Suddenly, the flowers died. Not all of them, but the sea of color was now fallout that we walked on.

Heat. Radiation. Like a bomb. A war.

Open a door. Feels like an oven. The air smells burnt.

Break out the beachwear and the sunscreen. Another record-breaking summer has hit Phoenix. Are we uninhabitable yet?