Good Question!
Not many years ago, I worked at a run-down
daily newspaper in Benicia. It
shared the same building as a Mexican restaurant, and was haunted
because it
had been built over an ancient Indian burial ground. X-acto
knives would
mysteriously embed themselves in the toes of our production crew,
and holes
in the floor gapped open on Groundhog Day and other odd. The
publisher,
however, did not heed these dire warnings, and kept the paper
going. If he
had read any Stephen King novels he would have known the ultimate
outcome of
this doomed rag. One day, the editor found an ax hidden in the
wall behind
the sheet rock next to his desk. Fortunately, I had already
handed in my
notice two weeks prior to his going on a bloody rampage, which
would have
been the biggest story this paper had ever covered, except that
all the
other newspapers scooped us due to the fact that our newsroom was
a crime
scene and needed to be hosed down.
This rambling intro is the reason behind my appearance on Bang's
new
website. Since leaving the newspaper, I became an ordained art
minister. It
is a very large church, whose worldly flock is watched over by
the Dope. I
watch over the art flock now, known to one and all as Father
Dick. You may
know a distant relative of mine, Philip .K. Dick and A. B.
Dick...latter was
a high roller in the printing trade, the other one was our family
schizophrenic. He also wrote a few books after getting strung out
on speed.
Since I don't really exist. (that's not really me on the masthead
of this
column) We hired a model for that) it hasn't been easy for me to
hold my
weekly services, until Bang invited me to grind out a corner of
this
website, which I will do on an irregular basis. That is, now and
then. I
will cover the flotsam and jetsam, the triumph and the tragedy of
my art
flock. Sometimes we may have to administer absolution. We have a
Drive-Thru
Confessional here, as always...we even take mail-ins.
To contact the good Father
Click Here
