"05-05-05"

Run the Yellow Caution Light to read the story of Tony's "05-05-05" painting (Click the traffic light)

“Checkered Chihuahua Chulo”

I suppose if I was on a deserted island or locked up in a jail cell somewhere, this is the kind of thing I would paint. With no photos or visual reference of any kind, this is the sort of image that seems to pop out of my mind and onto the canvas. “Checkered Chihuahua Chulo” 30” x 40” Acrylic on Canvas On the last day of Summer, Tony www.tonydecarlo.com

Adam and Steve in Hawaii

This is another painting added to my “Adam And Steve” series, the first one set in Hawaii. Adam And Steve In Hawaii 30” x 40” Acrylic on Canvas Aloha, Tony

Mitt Romney: Four More Demons, Four More Wars in 2012

Here is a most revealing campaign poster from 1938. These people eagerly voted "YES" for "True Strength". History has recorded how things ended for them in 1945.

"The House, #4"

As a contrast to the last painting I did of my house, this time I tried using a bare minimum number of shapes and colors, and then slapped about ten pounds of paint onto it. It's not my favorite in this new series of my house, but I still see my house in it, and identify with it, as much as any of the other paintings.     "The House, #4" 24" x 36" Acrylic on Canvas   There's no place like home, TONY

Saturday Night Soup for the Soul (42)

here was once a certain person, who I thought was my friend.  I realized some time ago to my great sorrow that he was not. The past several weeks, I have  watched from the sidelines as he upped and abandoned his most lovely and rock solid faithful wife and kids for a dirty and insane (mental, emotional and /or spiritual insanity is after all an absolute  pre-requisite trait that one must possess before they surrender long-term their life and soul to any cult, religious or not) Seventh Day Adventist cult whore.  So everything good that I ever witnessed him say or do, and there was overwhelming evidence suggesting that he was rock solid in the personal integrity character traits that matter in this world, are now all  called to question.   Demolished is a better description of what has become of his reputation. My subject, we will call him Frito, has used the same fig leaf that scoundrels everywhere have used thru the ages, and continue to use today.  He is playing the false  “I am with the only true church and with the only true Lord and the rest of you are with Satan” card to try and mask the fact that at his bedrock soul, he is, in the words of my brother who figured this out three years ago, "just another Puerto Rican shit bag" man-whore.   Though I long ago realized that there was "something a bit off” about him, I never in a million years thought he would exhibit such selfishness and cruelty as I have witnessed these past several months.  El Güebón.  ¡Que bruto!   Yo sé como bate el cobre. Forsake, forsake your house carpenter And come away with me I'll take you where the green grass grows On the shores of sunny Italy So up she picked her babies three And gave them kisses, one, two, three Saying "take good care of your daddy while I'm gone And keep him good company." His widow who I will call Grace (I call her a widow because the man she loved is now dead and has been replaced by a Seventh Day Adventist cult man-whore) is devastated. I had gently warned her a year ago that one of the other fat slob cult whores was licking her chops like a glowing crimson-eyed she-devil starring at Frito and Gracie as she danced with her husband in their home. She dismissed my worries as a figment of my imagination   Oh what are those hills yonder, my love They look as white as snow Those are the hill of heaven, my love You and I'll never know   Oh what are those hills yonder, my love They look as dark as night Those are the hills of hell-fire my love Where you and I will unite   Now seeing this transpire, and witnessing Gracie’s pain has pushed my own buttons and raised some childhood issues.  My own rotten and selfish father (and believe me, he got exactly what he had coming to him in the end) abandoned my mother, my brother and myself when I was 12 years old, on CHRISTMAS DAY, 1965.  Yes, you read that correctly.  He chose Christmas day to abandon his family to seek his own self-fulfillment.  To this day, I have zero tolerence for being subjected to any type of selfishness from others.  Both my father and apparent dumbass Frito. Like all whores, they live off someone else and use everyone to get what they want for free.  Frito did not take off his mask and show his true colours until he had the next woman he would live off lined up.   A dirty man-whore to the core.   Broki, bregaste cajita e pollo.  ¿Oiteh?   When I was with Gracie a week ago and she was on the verge of crying, I hallucinated my own mother’s face on hers for a short moment.    It is always unforgettable to see one person’s face superimposed upon another’s.   DREAM. I dreamt that I was in Gracie and Frito’s downstairs bedroom.  Frito had ram shacked the room, stealing everything that was not nailed down including the bed and leaving bits of busted up debris everywhere.  He was sitting on the single remaining wooden chair dressed in his blue collar work clothes.  His face was pale, gray, like a ghost or like someone who was of the living-dead.  He had no expression and he sat motionless in the chair.   As I looked around the bedroom to survey the scene, I saw that the carpet was stained with dirt, especially where their bed had once stood.  He had stolen the bed.  I tried to find the words, tentatively at first as I was unsure how to ask the question.  Then I finally asked him “Frito, what made you hate her (Gracie) so”?  I awoke. Oh twice around went the gallant ship I'm sure it was not three When the ship all of a sudden, it sprung a leak And it drifted to the bottom of the sea   And now let us break bread and share Saturday Night Soup.   1. House Carpenter a/k/a "The Daemon Lover" by Bob Dylan is based upon a 16th century Scottish ballad.  It can be enjoyed as both a literal story and as a biblical parable.  The literal story tells of a man who returns to a former lover after a very long absence, and finds her with a husband (the house carpenter in the story) and her children.  He entices her to leave them all  behind and come away with him, luring her with many ships laden with treasure. Together they board one of his ships and put to sea… The woman regrets leaving her children but does not regret abandoning her house carpenter husband.  From aboard the ship, her spirits soar when she spots snow white hills on the horizon.  Asking her companion lover what they are, he responds “Heaven” and informs her that they are destined to never know the place.  She then spots dark and foreboding hills on a different horizon.  Asking about them, her loved responds that “Those are the hills of hell-fire my love, where you and I will unite”.   The ship then sinks and they die together.   That is the story told by the song. But there is parable lurking inside the song.  A parable that concerns choices ones makes between truth and falseness.  The House Carpenter can be seen as a stand in of “Jesus Christ”, or more broadly as “things which are true”.  The stranger seduces her from The Truth and she runs away with the Great Liar and Seducer: Satan. With him, she perishes. This song was to be on Bob Dylan’s debut 1962 LP but did not make the cut.  After circulating for decades on bootlegs, it was finally released in 1991 on Dylan’s The Bootleg Series Volumes 1–3 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961–1991. All of this makes it's way into this week's soup. You can get your bowl of Saturday Night Soup by clicking the jukebox.

"Lafayette Square, Savannah"

This is one of the 21 public squares located throughout the Historic section of downtown Savannah. There are small parks everywhere here, within a block or two of everyone's home. Most of the homes, and the church, in this painting were built in the mid to late 1800s. The home on the far left at center is the Andrew Low home, wealthy "cotton merchant" (which I read as "slave owner") and the former residence of Juliette Low who founded the Girl Scouts. The over-the-top church here is Savannah's most famous, St. John the Baptist, and the yellowish home in the bottom right is the childhood home of Flannery O'Connor. I only know this because the city seems intent on putting wordy bronze plaques everywhere. I've read "Robert E. Lee visited here" in so many plaques; it made me wonder if all he ever did was going around town socializing. No wonder he lost the war! Conspicuously absent in the countless plaques I've seen here, commemorating war heroes and history, is any mention of slavery. Like it never, ever happened. "Lafayette Square, Savannah" 24" x 30" Acrylic on Canvas Historically Yours, TONY

"Lumina"

In memory of my late sister, Judith Rae. She died, the victim of the American Health Care System, on March 25th, 2005.

"Blessed are They that Mourn"

"Gay Baptism by the Holy Spirit"   Seeing the multitudes, the Good Rabbi went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him: The Rabbi opened his mouth, and taught them, saying:   Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.   Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.   Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful:  for they shall obtain mercy.   Blessed are the pure in heart:  for they shall see God.   Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.     Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you,and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.   Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

"Christmas Cats Stalking an Ornament"

I was sent this delightful original work of art from friend and artist Miss Cat. Most cats love batting at ornaments watching them rock back and forth, dislodging them from the tree, and playing kitty soccer with them, until the break. GOAL.

Saturday Night Soup for the Soul (24)

arly the next morning, I continued day two of my manic "1000 miles in 36 hours" road trip thru central Oregon. I double backed and headed due north from Prineville back to the Columbia River Gorge. I periodically slammed on the breaks and jumped out into the brisk mid April high desert air to shoot pics of the deliciously muted spring colours.   "The Couch by the Side of the Road" (one man's discard is another man's treasure)   Where did your long hair go?Where is the boy I used to know?How could you lose that happy glow? Oh, Caroline no! Who took that look away?I remember how you used to say You'd never change, but thats not true... Oh, Caroline you break my heart; I want to go and cryIts so sad to watch a sweet thing die.           Oh, Caroline why? The high lava plateau that makes up this part of central oregon is slashed by sudden, and unexpected deep canyons caused by the slow power of water flowing downhill in the form a a series of small rivers that join the mighty Columbia to the north. Prior to this lifetime I surely was a tailor.Look at me... ("Good morning, Mr. Leitch....Have you had a busy day?" ) I own the tailors face and hands. I am the tailors face and hands   I flew north, down the winding road finally reaching the waters of the mighty Columbia, where I crossed over into Washington state, with JC, and the Sexy WonderHunk Twins carrying on in the back seat. Waiting for me, on the other side of the bridge, was the star of the Columbia River Swim Team: that smooth and slippery, lickity split, seal boy you may have heard about, Number 17. This Road Trip Diary continues next week...about the time that bush's butthole boy, Alberto Gonzolas has been tossed down the political crapper of no return.     1. Caroline No is from Brian Wilson's masterpiece LP “Pet Sounds” . This is one of the ALL TIME GREAT works of popular music. Inspired by the Beatles' Rubber Soul LP, Pet Sounds knocked them out, especially Paul McCartney. They answered Pet Sounds with a brilliant LP that was so unlike, and lightyears beyond anything ever recorded, that is is often called the GREATEST LP ever recorded: Revolver. There is a very specific reason that I included this song in the soup. A musicical link piece that is made up of several fragments follows in the soup, which takes you to.... 2. Save the Life of my Child from Bookends by Simon and Garfunkel. 3. The Kite Song is Yoko Ono from the Approximately Infinite Universe LP. Love this song. The words say it all. I flew a kite, I held on tight to its string. Each time I go anywhere, I held on tight. In the middle of the night I woke up in fright, Thinking maybe in my dream I let go of my kite. When I was in a restaurant, talking to my friends, Watching their mouths move faster and faster. I thought of the kite that was flying in the sky And made sure that my hand was holding the string. That was a long time ago, Many skies went by since then. Now my hands stopped holding anything And Ive learnt to take a walk instead.   Then one day in the evening light, I saw something strange shining bright. The sky was dark, with swarms of larks, And in the midst of it all, yes, it was my kite.How did the kite get there, Ill never know, Floating away among the clouds to where nobody knows.I held my gun with both my hands, Slowly aiming at the shining dot. The shot went off, the dot blew off, and since then Ive never seen the kite again. All of this makes it's way into this week's soup. You can get your bowl of Saturday Night Soul for the Soul by clicking the jukebox.



Fuck John McCain and his Alaskan HAG

STOP THE PRESS

NEW EVIDENCE REVEALS that neo right wing religious fog machine, Pastor Rick Warren, is the illegitimate son of Charles Manson. Who’d of thunk it...

"The Three Graces"

"Beach Boys"

After living in the heart of Savannah for more than two years, last week I realized there is another lifestyle here I was totally oblivious to. For the first time in my life, I went riding on a friend’s boat on a river, and suddenly realized there are thousands of people here living on the banks of the many rivers, all with docks and boats, and all tied to the water and the tides.   I’ve been on boats in the ocean many times, but never experienced anything quite like this with the constantly changing scenery, the different islands, the beautiful homes, the winding rivers and tributaries, and dolphins swimming up to the small boat.   Of course I didn’t see any lost tribe of naked orange boys waiting for us on the shoreline, but that’s what I drew and started painting as soon as I got home. “Beach Boys” 24” x 36” Acrylic on Canvas Tribally, TONY