I Voted For A Witch – Wars!

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Ted Cruz is a long lean mean man from Texas. The other day he pointed at the news camera with his finger, and said;

“Leave Heidi the hell alone!”

This is Gary Cooper at High Noon. This is High Art and Prophecy – thanks to me! What we got, is, a evangelical hooked on Dominion Theology, in a showdown with a neo-Nazi who employed an image of these candidates wives, one flattrng, the other demonic. The message is, which one would you vote for, want to see in the White House…..The Witch, or……The Beauty? This is going into my T.V. series ‘I Voted For A Witch’.



Here we got muses and politicians stooping as low as you can go. Is there stalking involved? Do we got some witchy-warlock stuff being applied as it was in my town? Are hexes and curses being cast? Is there a threat of violence? For sure we Americans are being entreated to a authentic Wild West Show – with Saloon Babes like Belle! My blog is….


Jon Presco

Come election time, Bucky is cussing as he looks at the lousy liberal candidates. Out of spite,  he choses the strangest one of the litter. He puts his X next to Serena ‘Wolfpack Persephone – who wins! There is a strange lightshow seen in the skies over downtown.

“I think I voted for a white woman. Let’s keep our finger’s crossed!”

It is a dark day in Mudville. To top it off, his good friend and neighbor, dies of a broken heart. An old beater Opal pulls up, and a woman in her late twenties gets out. There are half deflated balloons and streamer hanging all over it. On the side are these words.

“Congratulations, Serena! The Witchiest Witch in Town!?”

Serena’s house was condemned because she owned a hundred cats. Her father died just in the nick of time. A big truck pulls up, and Serena’s supporters unloads her evil ongoing Yard Sale – and put it all over the front lawn! Now that she is on the city council, the order to remove her junk, will not be enforced. The cigar falls from Belcher’s lips!.

“Jesus Christ! I voted for a Witch! Can my life get any worse!”








HEADLINE: How being unfriended by Boris led to an idea about remaking the movie ‘Bad Day At Black Rock’  starring Rutgar Hauer who plays a German grandfather who comes to America to investigate the death of his grandson who is shot dead in a garage.

“This morning, my old facebook writer-buddy, Boris Kachka, unfriended me after I responded to this article he posted about  a German exchange student who gets wasted with a shotgun in a garage he broke into……..”

“MISSOULA, Mont. — Teenagers call it garage hopping. The goal was to sneak into an open garage, steal some beer or other items and slip away into the night. It was dumb and clearly illegal. It was not supposed to be deadly.

Around midnight on April 27, a 17-year-old exchange student from Germany named Diren Dede left the host home where he played Xbox and drained cans of Sprite to set off with a friend through his dark hillside neighborhood. They passed a home whose garage door hung partially open. Using a cellphone for light, Mr. Dede headed in.

Inside the house, motion sensors alerted Markus Kaarma, 29, to an intruder’s presence. Two recent burglaries had put Mr. Kaarma and his young family on edge, his lawyer said, and he grabbed a shotgun from the dining room and rushed outside. He aimed into the garage and, according to court documents, fired four blasts into the dark. Mr. Dede’s body crumpled to the floor.”

Thus began my blog on the very day Sony said it would not be showing ‘The Interview’ they caving into “fear itself” after North Korea launched its infamous  cyber-attack. Need I say Boris is a Jew, and I was surprised he would censor me. Did he think it was a good time to get rid of the ‘Trouble Maker’, those who can’t bring themselves to go along with the program? What if Kim goes after me, and my facebook friends? Would Kim zap their computers?

“Do it to Winston! Strap the rat to his FACE (BOOK)!”

All of a sudden, Sony was giving the world the message that it is best to give in to the demands of hackers so they will stop hacking you. This had become the accepted way to avoid INTERNET TROUBLE, by becoming Artful Dodgers. However, when we had to accept the truth we would avoid movie theatres, and, no longer make movies that may offend someone who will cause us grief, we knew we given up a huge portion of our sacred Freedom of Speech. I would say Kim took out about 86% percent of our, rights.

So, how did I get unfriended? Boris had posted on a shooting in Montana, forgetting all about my trouble with Rena Belle and the Sheriff of Bozeman that prompted me to google this wasteland and discover there was a fierce problem with bored folks getting hooked on meth. I blamed the death Boris brought to our attention, on boredom, and said I would write a book on this epidemic, if I had the time! All of a sudden –  I’m out of there! With the push of a button, the Facebook cyanide pellets are dropped, and Presco is sent to the showers.

Here is my blog on the cultural warfare going on in Bozeman. I talked about the Supreme Court ruling that made Hobby Lobby, a human citizen. Why didn’t any writer declare Sony a Fellow American, a human being crucified by the dictator of North Korea?  This is a Human Rights violation.


“Yesterday, the Supreme Court did a batch of peyote and took our democracy on a vision quest. They declared a company has a mortal soul and thus a right to protect it’s religious freedoms. Artists make logos for companies and help brand them. I pointed this out with Target, a logo that Jaspar John’s made famous that is a new age cross. In HOBBY LOBBY I see HOLY LOBBY.”

To tell you the truth, I am not sure why Boris unfriended me. Was he trying to get us to focus on this new law that NRA pushed that allowed homeowners to kill unarmed intruders? Why was the New York Times interested in this – injustice? I felt they were out of their – jurisdiction! Perhaps there is a connection to the “I can’t breath” incident that happened in New York State? What angle was Boris working on?

I suspect Boris tracked my ex-wife down via this blog, he googling Thomas Pynchon’s name because he is an admitted Pynchon Stalker. I guess he forgot about the old rule, that you got to be nice to the un-famous Bohemian writer who was sticking it to the same muse the famous writer was sticking it to. Notice I didn’t call Pynchon is a Bohemian. That’s because he’s a Sissy Writer who is always running away from folks who just want to have a beer with him, or, smoke a joint. You could always find Hemmingway, who was a real man – and a real writer! For your edification I put the photo of a real famous writer next to a photo of our wanna-be.

Also, I have put two faux cereal boxes together. One graced the cover of Vonnegut’s book that was written in 1973, and the other is a poster our old chum, Denis Dent executed in 1969. The Weedies poster got the attention of the Levi  Straus Company, who spent a billion dollars branding their Jewish name, so that when Northern Folks think of Ol San Francisco Sourdough Bread, they see the little Jewish tailor as Paul Bunyan heading to the hills to dig another gold mine. Levi paid Dent for a logo. He came up with;

“Old jeans, never die. They just, fade, fade away!”

Denis got $50,000 for this BRAND that is alive and well all over the world. You can buy pre-faded jeans. He got cheated! I am going to start a new Bohemian Club where only great un-famous writers are welcome, those Palooka’s that are still in the ring, refusing to take a dive. My compatriot, Casey Farrell, came up with a logo that is pure genius. And he was not even trying. He made a joke;

“The North will rise again!”

If Truman Capote was alive, he would be staying in an old motel in Montana, making a mountain of notes. At night, he would be holding court at the local watering hole where everyone takes him for a sissy-shit, until sunrise, when they come-to on the barroom floor, and Truman is just getting into his best material.

Today, writers just unfriend the competition in the comfort of their homes, on their lap tops. What we got here is a bunch of writers who are into Sissy Fighting, just like Kim Jong Fool. Sissy Fighters never win.

The New York writer crowd won’t be hearing my crazy-ass ideas anymore, like the one I threw out there about Artaud and Joyce’s daughter teaming up, that Charles Shields got a chuckle out of.  I had Artaud and Van Gough taking a train to Bozeman for the Art Fair the squares were having, and, they are the bad-ass Bohemian dudes in High Noon. This is right out of Vonnegut’s ‘Breakfast of Champions’. Being the son of a German Turner, Kurt understood the Krauts have a powerful need to get together and celebrate their culture. How dare Kachka put me outside the his circle of sissy writers who have a very sneaky way of going after people. I might give my reader an example – if I feel like it!

Well, it didn’t take this gun slinger long to go for my pen, and come up with the remake of the movie ‘Bad Day at Black Rock’.

You see, the grandfather of the boy who got wasted by that redneck in his garage, was a famous Nazi. He was the boy Hitler pats on the cheek before he goes to fight the Communist hoard for Berlin. As soon as Hitler heads to his bunker to shoot himself, a Nazi doctor distributes meth and  hyperdermic needles to the brave boys, in eyeglass cases that once belonged to Jews.

“You will be no good to us if you fall asleep in the defense of the Fatherland! I will now teach you how to inject our Superman Drug!”

After getting released from a Russian prison camp, Beepa becomes a meth freak in Hamburg, where he befriended the Beatles, by the way. He offered to be their bodyguard.  On the verge of death, Beepa has a divine revelation, and is free of his addiction. No sooner does he hear of his grandson’s death, he is googling Montana, and discovers his old nemesis is alive and well. Taking a jet to America, he is quite a sight to see when he gets off the train in Black Rock. Three teenage girls tailgating, are checking him out, they coming down to the station to grok on the passengers.  What else was there to do?

“Excuse me Fraulines, Do you know where I can catch a cab?”

The two girls giggled, and whispered to one another.

“Has anyone told you  look like Freddy Kruger?” offers one, brave, but very bored soul.

Rutgar Hauer will play Beepa Hubner.

The girls let Beepa sit up front, while two lookers ride in the back. Just as they were about to pull onto the highway, Heather’s boyfriend skids to a stop next to her Ford. She had just broken up with Jason because he was spending all his time shooting at tree stumps with his Oath Keeper buddies. Three of them are piled in the back of a Chevy truck. The one riding shotgun, is giving Beepa a hard stare. What else is there to do?

“I ain’t talking to you, Jason. So why don’t you and your friends go shoot at some soda-pop bottles full of your own piss!”

“Whos’s the old freak ya got with you? Reminds me of that dude in the movie ‘No Country For Old Men.”

“Hey, El Friendo. Where are you from?” says El Snakeo, who spits some baccy juice out the window.”

“Never you mind!” Heather spat, and floors it.

As she pulls away, Hubner gave these wanna-bes ‘The Look’.  Somehow they got it, that these steel blue Aryan peepers had seen the glint in Hitler’s eyes. One of the bored boys, creamed his pants!

“Where are you from?” asks Heather.


Heather felt a cold shudder come up from the base of her spine, and slams on the breaks. We get one of those camera shots where smoke comes off the tires as it leaves a patch of rubber on the road.

“Get out of my truck, you fucken freak! I had nothing to do with Bobbies death. We made out twice at the old water tower. That was all. They put me up to it. I didn’t want to go along with their plan, but, I had no choice! You understand! I had no choice!”

We see Beepa’s black boots alight on the pavement, and another cloud of burning rubber. Beepa watches the Ford fade into the horizon line. Taking off his black felt Bavarian hat, Hubner scratches his head.

“That was too easy!” Beepa says with his distinct Bohemian German accent. “What the hell is going on?”

What this Kraut did not recognize, is, the whole town was guilty of something, because they were bored silly! If your weren’t guilty, or, if you failed to act like you were guilty, you were socially shunned! Of course this would make it near impossible to find the real guilty ones.

Jon Presco

Copyright 2014

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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