About Me

Vintage metalhead, Divorced, Latino, Scorpio, amateur DJ, indie theater projectionist, and recovering Texan/Catholic/Soldier/Journalist. No kids, two dogs.

Liberal firebrand, honorably discharged veteran of the United States Army, proud Godless Heathen, major league misanthrope who prefers the company of canines to most humans, avocational disc jockey, bargain basement renaissance man, artist, writer, perennial anti-authoritarian smartass and irreverent, semi-pro curmudgeon with a 10th-degree black belt in Creative Self-Immolation.

I host a 2-hour free-form rock (mostly '70's-'90's punk, metal & grunge) radio show called "Bat Country Radio" every Saturday morning from 3-5 a.m. Arizona time.

Some, perhaps most, believe that Life is about achievement, and the slow and steady accumulation of things like power and prestige, money and material things. Forever chasing that elusive fiction we call the American Dream. Hoping beyond hope that a life spent chained to the soul-grinding wheels of perpetual production and consumption will ultimately be rewarded with the freedom to buy an RV, hit the road, and visit all those places we spent our lives dreaming about. Or if we're really lucky we'll have squirreled away enough money to buy an overpriced cookie-cutter house in some sun-drenched boneyard of senility in Florida or Arizona, where we can play bingo, golf and shuffleboard to our hearts content while our bodies fall apart and we shit and drool all over ourselves for the few years we have left before we return to the dust from which we came

Most do this without a second thought, for this is The Way Things Are and Always Have Been.

And so, after spending our lives immersed in mindless, dehumanizing work sanctioned by a fictitious God who promised us Life beyond the one we know, all too soon the vigor and glory of youth falls into ruin, and we find ourselves old and wondering where the fuck all those years went while we were busy worrying about 6-pack abs, fixed-rate mortgages, stock portfolios, IRA's, and American Idol.

But not me.

Yes, we are all going to die sooner or later, and when the Reaper eventually finds me I will most likely be cold, wet, and penniless, and living with at least one dog in a Van Down by the River.

But when that day comes, I want to have a better story to tell than, "I sold my soul for the American Dream and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."

My interests include but are in no way limited to: Running my big fucking mouth. Pissing off the defenders of ignorant and/or irrational religious and conservative ideology. Offending the easily offended. Brutally confrontational iconoclasm. Wanton anti-authoritarian irreverence. Hurling profane, industrial-strength brickbats at The Powers That Be - especially if they happen to be religious and/or conservative. Horror, fantasy, science fiction, indie & foreign movies. Perfecting the verbal Art of Sarcasm. Politics. Baseball. Wolfdogs. Dark, twisted humor. Spicy food. Good beer. Pop culture. Group howls. Cooking.

I'm also a damn good cook.

I'd love to meet: Misfits, dreamers, rebels, creative spirits, fellow Rush fans, nonconformists, disturbers of the peace, women who run with the wolves, and anyone else who is equally disgusted with/horrified by the army of flesh-eating conservative turd merchants currently wielding entirely too much power at home and abroad.