I was born to be a Pulp Fiction Writer – amongst other things! Is there a Philosopher in me? I think I will be writing – for Ludwig Wittgenstein – from now on. It is said writers pick someone to write for. All the folks I picked, are dead, or – want me dead! Christine has someone living in her house named Steven King. He is the latest MAN she has taken hostage. She’s trying to take me hostage again with this contrived story about Ruben Blades being the father of her daughter, Julie. I want Blades to be in my movie that takes up where MISERY left off.
As promised, I am adding Harry, Liz, and Richard – to the Oaks Motel Crowd. I am also including Montgomery Cliff – and Wittgenstein – because I just discovered he inspired several movies.
I want to do a painting of the top photo and title it “I prepared his way! John the Baptist. That’s what they said about me in regards to my sister’s amazing, but disturbing success. The American Family Collective Success was GUARANTEED to all American Children. However, when success comes to a member via being a successful artist, actor, or writer, the Collective feels cheated somehow. They deserve SOME MONEY. They want the one who led the way – TO REALLY SUFFER! My family hates my long sobriety. They wish I would take another drink – and die a painful death! They want me to feel an un-insulated aguish at the Oaks Motel, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Presco (played by the Burtons) fight – around the clock! They want to have me feel like someone put a cutup clock spring in my hamburger meat, while they go to town to spend their illgotten – ART MONEY!
The children are only aware of the world contained within their parents’ compound. When they realize that the (to put in Wittgensteinian terms) that the limits of their world are not imposed specifically by metaphysical constraints (and rather by physical restraint by their parents), they begin expressing their tumult in disturbing fashions.
Here, Lanthimos exemplifies Wittgenstein’s idea that “the limit of language are the limits of my world” in that once the children are exposed to newer ideas and combinations of older ideas in newer forms, the limits of their world begin to expand, leading them to new and unsettling revelations.
The Oaks Motel – A Play
Posted on May 15, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press
The Oaks Motel
A Play
by
Jon Presco
The Last Hippie on Earth, does not know he is the LHOE. At seventy one, and in poor health, he begs his old hippie friend to allow him to come visit him – before they both die!
Employing impeccable Lost Hippie Logic, he has backed his buddy, and his attorney wife, into a corner. There was that blood pact they made while looking for Time Portal in Honduras, so long ago. He is on the verge of discovering it was not, Sheena, who did not want him in her home, but Pretzel who did not want to see that fucking freak ever again. He could not accept that most people are motivated by ‘Love of Money’. Wanting money gave safe signals to fellow human beings. Everyone who knew Cecil, was afraid of him, because the “I’m Safe” sign never went off over his head. Pretzel was afraid if he came to the house, Cecil would discover the evidence he had ‘Copped Out’ all over the place. This might set him off. He might fly into a rage – and try to hurt himself, or…………..?
So Sheena paid for a room at ‘The Oaks Motel”. However, when Cecil called to say he was in town, and thanked her for getting him a room with a “color T.V.” she started reading things into this thank you. Was Sheena detecting a……deadly sarcasm?
Detecting that Sheena was tightening up, and on the verge of becoming a rea cunt, Cecil layed on her the itinerary he had in mind.
CECIL: “Hey Sheena ‘Of the Jungle’, I bet you like ribs. There’s a ‘Juan’s BBQ HUT across the street. I thought we can get a couple of racks and celebrate Epiphany Day’ in my room. Are you hep to what that is? I brought my costume. Do you and Pretzel have some glow lights?
Pretzel comes in and finds his wife trembling. There is urine rolling down her leg. Pretzel grabs phone.
PRETZEL: “What did you say to my wife – you dirty old fuck?”
CECIL: “You haven’t called me a “dirty fuck” in ages! Wow! Does that bring back memories!”
(The play Michael took me to see was ‘The Beard”. I could be wrong. You know the old saying…..”If you can recall, you weren’t there!”)
Christine’s Typewriter
Posted on November 19, 2021 by Royal Rosamond Press
Christine’s Typewriter
by
John Presco
A Serial-Novel
Copyright 2021
Over a month ago. I boxed and sent via UPS, Christine Wandel, one of my manual typewriters. It sat in her hallway on Carmine Street in the West Village – for a week! Why she didn’t bring it into her appartment, is the beginning of this haunted tale that led me to learn my favorite actor is dead! God rest his soul.
I will be conducting a ceremony at sundown, where I will assign this actor’s heavily-textured soul to the Oaks Motel in Oakland California. He will be the first Thespian in residence. I think I will put Taylor and Burton there as well, in the next room, sos his tortured pathetic soul can be woken in the middle of the night by screeching and hollering!
I wanted Harry to play me in any movie made about me, or, anyone I know, but, as fate would have it, Mr. Statton has been chosen by the God’s of Pathos – to haunt Christine’s Typewriter! I have been accused of engaging in automatic writing in regards to my blog, Royal Rosamond Press. I have have given credit to My Muse. I wanted to help Christine become a Village Writer. but, I think she is a……Muse Snatcher! I think she – wants it all! She wants to own my Magic Jinn so it will type all day and night and generate a small library of novels – and several blogs! She wants a car, a literary vehicle – that writes automatically – just like the car in the movie ‘Christine’!
Harry was in the movie ‘Christine’. He plays Detective Rudolph Junkins. In my serial, he will be, Michael ‘The Spark’ O’Harkins. I have created this Pulp Detective to get to bottom of this. What the hell is going on? I think I created a – MONSTER!https://www.youtube.com/embed/J0pMmth5tDw?version=3&rel=1&showsearch=0&showinfo=1&iv_load_policy=1&fs=1&hl=en&autohide=2&wmode=transparent
Christine (1983 film) – Wikipedia
Wise Blood (film) – Wikipediahttps://www.youtube.com/embed/ieBmy6qjiCI?version=3&rel=1&showsearch=0&showinfo=1&iv_load_policy=1&fs=1&hl=en&autohide=2&wmode=transparenthttps://www.youtube.com/embed/Wh13eaXsxCQ?version=3&rel=1&showsearch=0&showinfo=1&iv_load_policy=1&fs=1&hl=en&autohide=2&wmode=transparent
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Philip Roth Now At – The Oaks Motel
Posted on May 23, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press
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Philip Roth will now be next door to Tom Wolfe at The Oaks Motel. Will there be masturbation after death? There will be an alphabet soup of old man noises coming trough the thin walls, then, the meeting of the minds out at the ice machine. Time to get really real. What’s holding them back?
These are the pioneers of the Graffiti Arts. The World of Eisenhower had a lock on reality. A Coney Island Dog of the Mind. Just over the hill is Kaspars where the Hell’s Angels hung out. They parked their hogs outside and hung their Levi-ass over a diner stool. It was good to have bad boys in your hood.
https://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/kaspers-hot-dogs-oakland
Ah, hell! Kesey’s got a room at the Oaks. So long Eugene! I win! That’s Ken Babb’s bookcase. Now we got a gang, of Oakland Realists. They celebrate Oktoberfest down the street. I’m going to get them to include the Three Ghost Writers in the festivities. There will be the ride of The Headless Horseman into the Black Hole. Irving can hang.
I’m going to call up the owner of Kaspar’s and suggest the Kesey Dog, the Wolfe Dog, and The Kosher Jack-off Dog. Maybe he will put their names on the stools. Sure it’s a lie. Writers are liars. Then………….they die!
Jon
Rosamond Press 
Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:
I install Gertrude Stein, Tolklas, and Sonny Barger at the Oaks Motel. Sonny was a writer. I never compared Victoria Bond and Starfish to Alice and Gertrude till I put them next to Sonny. What a perfect match!