I was only six

I’d never heard

Of gun control

I was drawing

Flowers that day

That’s all I remember

Why don’t you

Remember us?

I don’t hear much

About us from you

Mostly you’re talking

About gun control

Why is that all you care about?

You can’t control a gun

If you can’t control yourselves

Are you stupid?

I was drawing flowers

To take home to my mother

Bloody flowers now

All over the country

What will a six year old

Draw tomorrow in school?

I know what I would draw

And I would show it to you

I would make you see it

Make you feel it

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

Seems the NRA (and all of us) have forgotten THE CHILDREN. There is something sick about a society that cares more about its ‘constitutional rights’ to shop for and buy Corporate Products than it cares about its CHILDREN.  GUNS are a Big Business in this country.  Just like Big Oil, the Car Industry, WalMart, and all the other Wall Street Robber Barons.  BIG BUSINESS NEEDS TO BE REGULATED!  And we need to regulate ourselves.

by Professor PeteySweety CsD (Doctor of Conspiracies)

11:11:11 UTC (Coordinated Universal Time, whatever)

Yeah folks, that’s the exact time tomorrow when The World Will Come To An End.  Converted for you laypeople (I love that PC word), that’s 6:11 am Eastern Time, like 3:11 am California Time, man, and 12:11 pm Vatican Time.  So remember, if you have friends in California at Daily Kos, let’s say, you can post to or chat with them up until 6:10 am tomorrow.  Say your goodbyes and final thoughts.

How this relates to my scientific work is that this afternoon I’m going to Charlie Os and, hopefully, drink for free, because Os will close early tomorrow morning, just hours before THE END.  (Talk about Last Call, Junior)  As a Doctor of Conspiracy, I hope to observe the average Montpelieran’s interpretations of what I call THE FINAL INEVITABLE.

For those of you layfolks (heh) wishing to experience THE END OF THE WORLD, I advise you to set your alarms for about 5:45 am tomorrow morning, so you’ll have time to post to California, where it will only be 2:45 am (following this?), and, hopefully, your friends will just be getting home from LAST CALL out there, and will be in the mood to chat a while.  Or post DENIALS in the comments section.

I must warn you all, however, that I have uncovered a CONSPIRACY in progress to PREVENT THE WORLD FROM ENDING.  I have been studying email reports from my STAFF OF EXPERTS that reveal an insidious plan by Political and Religious Leaders and Heads of State to cancel-out or, at least postpone THE END OF THE WORLD.  It appears to me, from these expert reports, that Corporations and the Very Rich want to CASH IN on THE END OF THE WORLD this Christmas.  Watch out for higher prices at WalMart today and this evening.  From the data I have examined, it looks to me that The Rich not only want to make a killing this Christmas (oh, pardon my politically incorrect wording), but that they want some more time to complete and stockpile the Underground Playlands they have been building since Reagan became President.  I have pinpointed a date in early February that seems to have significance–Feb. 11–after GroundHog Day and before Valentine’s Day.  Also after the SUPER BOWL.

What this means to you, the average person not in the loop, is that the LEADERS OF THE WORLD will come up with a lot of bullshit tomorrow if nothing happens.  They will probably tell you that the MAYANS just ran out of tablets, or whatever, to make a NEW Calendar.  Or that the MAYANS couldn’t pick up a NEW Mayan Calendar because there were no Banks, Printers, Insurance Companies, Construction Companies or Car Dealerships back then.  LIES!  Do not be deceived by normality today and tomorrow.  THE END IS COMING!  It’s just a question of how long THE VERY RICH can delay the processes I have fully researched and, in my own humble way, have helped to make an EXACT SCIENCE.

What I would suggest to you average people is that you come to Charlie Os this afternoon around 4 pm (don’t ask for a UTC on that), and buy my drinks before Junior raises the prices tomorrow if THE END OF THE WORLD is put on hold.  I may have more data to relate to you this afternoon, depending on whether my STAFF OF EXPERTS continue to probe the variables, or, in their state of agitation and stress, decide to get a head start on me in getting SHITFACED.  There is an EXACT SCIENCE to all this.  And I will explain it to you at 4 pm today at Charlie Os in simple terms your little pea-brains can comprehend.  

Now I must go, for a report has just come in from my EXPERT in Warsaw.  But I can give you this one last bit of information–The rumors that Duct Tape will PREVENT THE END OF THE WORLD have absolutely no validity according to the data I have thus far analysed.

See you at 4 pm.  Remember–THE CLOCK IS STILL TICKING!

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

Yes…this will be fun.  A love affair between a 64 year-old Palestinian man (Me-I’m 64) and a 62 year-old Israeli woman that started back during the Six Day War in ’67 (Summer of Love).  My apologies to Bob Dylan, but I can’t help it.  I’m calling it:

  TANGLED UP IN JEWS

Yeah.  let’s see…

“Early one mornin’ the rockets were flyin’

I was layin’ on my face

Wonderin’ if she would get hit by one

If she was still livin’ in occupied space

Her folks they came over from Florida

Settled on the West Bank

Her daddy didn’t like the rag on my head

He had me driven off by a tank

Then I was standin’ in the Gaza Strip

Listenin’ to my friend Bin

I must admit I felt a little uneasy

When the IDF started comin’ in

And went tearing through…

…Tangled up in Jeewws…”

I met her during the Six Day War

Back in nineteen sixty-seven

She fed me bread at the interment camp

And it wasn’t even leavened

She was sixteen and unorthodox

And I was eighteen for Allah

Her daddy ran the camp like a Nazi

She said: “You’re not like all those mullahs”



And then she turned around to look at me

As her Daddy had me led away

I heard her say over his shoulder:

“We’ll meet again someday

On a settlement that’s new…”

…Tangled up in Jeewws

We were living together in ’73

When I volunteered for the Yum Kipper War

The Egyptian captain didn’t like me much

He said: “You’re the one with the Jewish Whore”

All the time I was in the Sinai

I kept her picture pure as a flower bud

Wonderin’ if we’d ever be the same again

If her hair was still red as blood

But Ariel Sharon kicked our asses

And Sadat said he’d had enough

Everything was gettin’ occupied

And Tel Aviv’s terms were gettin’ tougher

And harder to chew…

…Tangled up in Jeewws

Yes.  And must have my hero flee to New York City for a while and hit the nightclub scene, like that little fucker Arafat did in the mid-seventies.  Have him run into Jesse Jackson in ’84 who will say to him:



“…so you better take that rag off of your head

And take a look around

Don’t you know where the fuck you are?

Don’t you know this is Hymietown?

I said so on the news…

…Tangled up in Jeeewws…”

Oh, this will be…Hey, gotta remember to mention The Prophet:



“And I studied the words of Muhammad

It didn’t take me very long

Never understood what all the fuss was about

Maybe HE should have made it a song



I threw rocks in the Intifadas

And Bin taught me how to watch out for mines

But I never could get her out of my head

I was wonderin’ about her all the time



So after years of hangin’ out with Bin

I became withdrawn

The only thing I knew how to do

Was to make a bomb

And I always made it wrong

But I paid my dues…

…Tangled up in Jeeewws…”

So, this should piss about everybody off.  If I do it right, that is.  

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

(Black lady shot and killed last week for shoplifting at WalMart)

I never knew when I left you there

that I would never see you again.

They told me you were killed

in a misunderstanding about your bill.

Shot dead at the Courtesy Counter

when you argued about the special.

And when I got there they told me

I had to go to the Courtesy Counter too.

What the fuck am I going to tell the kids?

“Mommy died shopping for us?”

In the parking lot I saw them all

running big carts of shit to their cars.

I looked at the sky and wept.

And for that I got dirty looks from them.

I told myself this can’t be happening;

that life cannot be this meaningless.

What has made us into people who will kill

over products that won’t even exist next year?

Where do I go and who do I talk to about

why we should do something before it is too late?

Should I have asked them in the parking lot:

“Why do you have nothing to say?

“If it were your wife or child, would you

just load up the car and drive away?”

I will walk the streets now and ask people

to sign my petition, to help save us all.

And when I am arrested for it, when I am shot dead for it,

will the sky rain down the only tears?

Tears that won’t erase the horror

of how all of us let this come to pass.

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

BREAKING NEWS!…Hollywood…30 seconds ago

Oliver Stone To Direct First REPUBLICAN NOIR Movie

With Republicans acting as born losers now, a whole new genre is beginning to emerge on the American scene. Already, there are reports here in California of Republican motorcycle gangs whose members wear T-shirts with logos such as:  Born To Lose–Just Wait Til ’16, and Live Fast, Die Rich, Make A Good Looking Tax Shelter, and What Are We Voting Against?–Whaddya Got?

And California rock groups are coming on with songs hailing Republicans as the new misunderstood rebels of the decade: I Ain’t Payin’ Taxes Anymore, and A Hard Economy’s A Gonna Fall, and, an Elvis throwback, I’m All Taxed Up.

Republican Angst it is called.  Or, Republicans Without A Cause.

Rumors also now are that these new Republican rebels have been experimenting with exotic ‘offshore’ drugs that allegedly help them make more profits through chanting, finger painting, and nude dance.  And there are increasing incidents of 20 and 30-something Republicans taking to the streets in defiance of all authority to hold LOVE THE RICH love-ins, and of them harassing respectable working class and middle class citizens with their anti-establishment of all social and economic programs attitude.

“These new Republican rebels are like Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson in three piece suits,” said one California working class union organizer.  “They break every law we’ve got, and scare the hell out of my wife and kids and mother.  Even my mother-in-law.  And the cops can’t seem to, or want to, do anything, and teenagers are now considering them some sort of anti-heroes.  Just yesterday, I saw my neighbor’s 14 year-old daughter in a cocktail dress.  And young boys walking around wearing Donald Trump ties.  Somebody’s got to do something!”

Well, somebody is.  It has been reported to us that Oliver Stone is putting together the very first REPUBLICAN NOIR film, called: Farewell, My Bailout.  This movie will allegedly expose the grittier side of the new Republican Hep-Cat Rebel movement.  Plenty of sex and violence, we hear.  With Sarah Jessica Parker and Jennifer Aniston cast as Michele Bachmann-Ann Coulter Republican Noir femme fatales. And Arlo Guthrie as a disillusioned IRS auditor torn between upholding the system or helping a aging shadowy loner named Newt, played by Harry Dean Stanton, create the biggest stock market crash ever.  

Newt’s motive was given to us in this ‘exclusive’ piece of noir dialogue from the film: “Economic Chaos for Economic Chaos’ sake, man!  Dig it!” says Stanton as Newt. “Fucking 47 percenters!  Fucking Dildo-Dipshit-Assholes!  Fucking Rodriquez Brothers!  Shit!  There’s gotta be a way of finding out how much they owe and making them pay!”  We have not been told who is doing the screenplay for Stone’s film, but we do know for sure that Mickey Spillane died in 2006.

Also, we hear there will be a drag-racing ‘chicken’ scene, with Stanton and Guthrie driving SUVs with dogs in cages on their roofs, heading for the edge of a ‘fiscal cliff’, whatever that is.

It is reported that Stone has hired Hank Williams Jr. and Neil Diamond to create a “haunting, evocative” score–“part classical, part country yahoo, part elevator and dentist office music.”  And that Bob Dylan has been cast in the role of a rich Republican Presidential candidate who gets beat up by the incumbent President, played by Bill Cosby, causing the Dylan character to drift aimlessly from one religious cult to another, finally dying in a shoot out with a lesbian couple at a same-sex wedding in Montpelier, Vermont.  Other location scenes in Montpelier, we hear, will feature Tea Party Republican rebels fighting it out with liberal trust funded Peace Ninnies. And two brooding noir assignation scenes set in two popular Montpelier bars known as Charlie Os and Three Penny Taproom, where the Aniston/Coulter character tries to seduce the local radical communist drug-addicted madman named Mister PeteySweety, played by a character who closely resembles the deceased Hunter S. Thompson.

No real production schedule has been revealed, as, we are told, Stone wants to improvise along as the Republican Rebel movement continues to develop.  We have confirmed, however, that many other location shots were already filmed on Nov. 23 at WalMarts around the country, supposedly depicting 20 and 30-something Republican rebels shopping in a lurid frenzy for “the sheer Hell of it!”  Many of these scenes are said to be so explicit that they may earn Stone’s new film an X rating.  And possibly some lawsuits.  

Sources tell us that a liberal activist named John Odum, not attached to the film, was fatally trampled to death in a WalMart parking lot while he was trying to collect signatures on a petition denouncing a local noir politician known only as Leftfield.

We will follow the story of this film as it unfolds.  As for the new Republican Rebel movement, we advise parents out there to watch out if their pre-teen children ask for shrimp and white wine for breakfast.

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

(and Hollywood, California)

I’m standing in line NOW

I’m not fucking around this year

When those doors open Friday 4am

I’ll be the first one in

Everything I can grab

I’ve got my down sleeping bag

And a heavy duty tarp

Used to be I’d go hiking with them

Fuck that  Weren’t no stores

On the trails

People are giving me looks

Like ain’t they ever seen

An activist shopper?

What?  Do I have to have a sign?

Like:  Fuck You!  I Was Here First!

I’ve got lots of water

And a thermos of cognac

I have take-out delivered

And my laptop to monitor

Any changes in the specials

You think I’m ridiculous?

Well I’ll be the one this year

To have THREE DVDs of Neil Diamond’s

“Lost You In The Elections”

You won’t have any  I Was Here First!

I feel like an old fashioned explorer

A mountain climber on Everest

I prepared ahead and I am driven

Don’t try to glom on my place

I have a gun in my pack

The media will be here soon

To put me on TV

I’m on TV and you’re NOT

I’m like the first astronaut on Mars

A sports star  No Pain, No Satellite Vane

Still it is lonely being here  Being me

Look at those dumb fuckers

Buying shit that’s on sale Friday

No wonder the country’s gone to hell

If they’d just get in fucking line NOW

Imagine what we all could do

All of us in lines all over the country?

In lines all the way across the country!

They’d have to start paying us

Giving us the shit for free

That’s why those store clerks look at me

Like they’re scared shitless

Bet they’d like to call the cops

But I’m staying right here

I know my rights  I’m an American

I’m keeping the Chinese and the Muslims

From taking over  They’d destroy all this

Everything I live for and hold dear

Watching the sunsets and sunrises

Over the Mall  Waiting for 4am Friday

Waiting for them to open the doors

And the the rush  Like an orgasm

Like hitting the beach at that Tarawa place

And running up to the Japs and screaming:

“Where’s your fucking Sonys?!”

Yeah I love the smell of products in the morning

And I’m going to get plenty too

And after it’s all over you know what?

My favorite part?  Taking everything back

For a refund  THAT’S why I’m here

And you probably thought

I was just an asshole

Well I hope you’re behind me in line

Next Monday at the Courtesy Counter

Maybe you’ll fucking learn something

What time is it anyway?

My watch is fucked-up

Going to get THREE new ones

Return two of them  Ah hell  All three

Time should be free  Don’t you think?

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

So.  We got a guy who has flashed five times, and still at large.  I love Vermont.  Hope it’s just one guy.  Cause, if he keeps getting away with it, he’ll become Vermont Lore.  Now, the following song is very very politically incorrect.  But, what the Hell.  If I don’t do it, sure as shit someone else will.  I just hope I can get some Vermont singer/songwriter artiste to do this, before they catch the dude.  You know.  CDs.  Super Bowl Half Time, etc.

Yes, perhaps a new State Song.  Also one celebrating Michael Colby’s Birthday (Nov. 19).  Wes–when I get an artiste to do this, I’ll expect a performance at Three Penny.  AND–think about a new ‘micro’-draft: VERMONT FLASHER LAGER & ALE (and BOCK).

The Ballad Of The Chittenden County Flasher

Oh, there’s a guy drivin’ round

Exposin’ hisself,

Showin’ everyone his dick

They call him a flasher

They call him a perv

Everybody says it’s sick

But I get a kick outta thinkin’

That maybe he works for the State

Cause things get dull in politically correct Vermont

I think the Flasher is tourist bait

Ohhh, show us your dick, Mister Flasher

Ski season is comin’ up

Show us your dick, Mister Flasher

Pull your pants down and hold it up

Yeah, show us your dick, Mister Flasher

You’re Vermont’s new tourist bait

Show us that your dick is all natural and Made In Vermont

And approved by the Secretary of State

Yeah, there’s a dude drivin’ round

By the airport

Waitin’ for the tourists to land

He’s Vermont’s own certified Flasher

He’s got MADE IN VERMONT

In his hand

I said, show us your dick, Mister Flasher

And let’s get in on the TV

So they can see your Vermont dick all over the world

And everybody will come here to ski

Yeah, show us your dick, Mister Flasher

Til we’ve seen it more times than we’ve seen CHAMP

Show us your dick, Mister Flasher

While you’re drivin’ by the Stowe exit ramp

(ONE MORE TIME!)

Now, maybe that ole Flasher

Is a Democrat

Workin’ for Shumlin I suppose

Get more tourists here

They’ll come to see what’s bigger

The Flasher’s dick or the Governor’s nose

Come on an’ show us your dick, Mister Flasher

You’re Vermont’s new tourist hope

They’re on their way here, Mister Flasher

Want you to flash them on the downhill slopes

Ohhhhh, show us your dick, Mister Flasher

Make Vermont the greatest state in the land

Show us your dick, Mister Flasher

You’ve got our Chamber of Commerce in your hand

You’ve got our tourist dollars in your hand

You’ve got I LOVE VERMONT in your hand

You’ve got all of us at your command

You’ve got us lookin’ left and right and up and down

Annnddd…ALL OVER…

You’re the Chittenden County, Vermont Flasher Man

Yeah, come on an’ show it, Mister Flasher

That ain’t no dowsing rod in your hand

Ohhhhhh yea…eaaahhh

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

there was no snow but I

found his track anyway  easy

I stalked him all morning

he was quick and almost clever

but I had his number

I had his scent too

I moved fast yet remained

as quiet as the nearby stream

always ready  eyes left and right

in case he backtracked

about eleven o’clock I had him

one shot took him down

god he was big  over 200 pounds

not counting what he had on him

I undressed him  was going to skin him

but decided to just stake him out

you know  like the Indians and the VC

did to warn us  and as a trophy too

besides I wanted a smoke real bad

and I had to get the hell out of there

out of state asshole  with a wad of cash

and what was left of a pint of JD on him

his daddy should have taught him

you don’t smoke and drink out hunting

well I’m all done for the day  cheers

get your buck yet Pete?  sure did

all the way home I’m seeing the look

on his face when my bullet hit him

what the hell did he expect?  out there

in the spooky old woods alone with his gun

it could just as easily have been me

well no  not really

next weekend I’ll head up north

a good piece of woods I know up there

hit that game supper on the way home

I love hunting season

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

(Don’t try this at home, kiddies.  or, so close to home.)

I want to thank all

My fellow Americans

On this very special day.

I could not have made

It here without you.

I wanted to live to see

If the last 64 years

Really happened or was I

Imagining all this shit?

From 1948 on, you gave me

Korea, McCarthy, the H-Bomb,

Vietnam, Nixon, and Neil Diamond.

After that, you gave me Anita Bryant,

Meat Loaf, Reagan, and then,

Oh you shouldn’t have–Dan Qualye.

But you didn’t stop there.

You gave me Rush and Bush

And one big whacky Party.

Well, you know I threw all

That shit in the garbage; didn’t

Even pass it on at a yard sale.

Because all I really ever wanted

Was justice and peace and freedom,

And some really good (and cheap) pot.

I’m still waiting for these gifts,

My fellow Americans. And for

You to maybe smarten up a little?

Not too much to ask for.

I’m getting old and I expected

Things to get better decades ago.

So come on now and get with it.

I mean, Obama?  I already

Got one of those in ’92.

And what’s all this other shit

About women and unions and gays

And immigrants and Muslims?

Like, what the Hell happened

Since the birthdays of

The fifties and sixties?

I know you gave me assassinations,

But there was some good stuff too.

Trouble is, that stuff got broke.

So I really need that stuff again,

And also some new stuff that

I can count on to last.

Because I want a birthday where I

Don’t have to say: “Oh you shouldn’t have!”

But simply: “Thank you. It’s just

“What I always wanted.”

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.

(Happy 64th, Petey! Many More Happy Complaints!)

Yes, as of today, that’s what the Rasmussen Poll says–49% for Romney, 48% for Obama, 2% Third Parties, and 1% undecided???  SPOOKY.

Well, it looks like we could get us a genuine Fuhrer for President by the early hours of the 7th.  Lucky Americans, we are.  We know the Fuhrer will make sure WalMarts open on time for those great sales we hit the streets for in the hundreds of thousands.  And he won’t take any shit from Muslims, Russia, China (well, maybe a little there), unions, women, workers, children, dogs, immigrants, gays, the elderly, the disabled, the war vets, teachers, scientists and researchers, artists, the sick, the homeless, the pimps, the pushers, and the peace ninnies.

No sir.  If America elects the Herr Mittster tomorrow, we’re gonna see a New America.  One that historians will be writing about long after…hey, wait…there won’t be any historians anymore.  Or anything or anyone left to write about.  ‘Cept a bunch of very very rich people living it up underground, waiting for the day they can crawl out from under their rocks, look around, lift their martinis and say:  “It’s all ours!  At last!  Wish we had saved some of those dumb assholes who made it possible way back in 2016 to clean up around here.  Damn.”

Well, perhaps the Fuhrer will think of something.  He has A PLAN, right?  But what if he doesn’t?  Oh my.  I know.  That 2% and that 1%.  Plenty enough labor force there.  Yeah.  And quite suitable for the task.  Perhaps I should still consider writing in Roseanne?  Nah.  I don’t want to live under a rock.  Oh well.  Goodbye U.S.A.  Goodbye Earth.  

And long live The Fucking Revolution.  The one that said:  “There’s just no difference, and who gives a shit anyway.  Hand me my shovel.”

(Boy, I am getting like so really pissed at this country.  Sigh.  If you’re a Dumb Selfish Asshole, do you die slower?  Or does it just seem that way?  I guess we shall see.)

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt