DR. Jack Kevorkian
Dr. Death has some amazing paintings. The descriptions themselves have an almost serial killer feel to them. Signed and numbered prints available at $250 a pop.


Every person is physically a part of the fabric called humanity, which bedizens itself with all kinds of noble epithets and arbitrary virtues. On the contrary, the pervading spirit is, and always was, a miasma of distrust and suspicion, periodically accentuated by hate, outright mayhem, and murder. A perfect example of this societal depravity is the history of slavery and racial bigotry in "free" America.

Despite effusive lip service to sublime ideals, humanity's worship is lavished on its real god, Satan, whose sovereignty and leering confidence are sustained by his mindless subjects throughout the world,--in Bosnia, Ireland, india, Pakistan, the Middle East, Rwanda, Kosovo and--Waco


The annual resurrection by dumb bunnies of a pathetic, despairing, almost scorned image of purported divinity is hardly noticeable amid the tawdry paraphernalia of irresistible Paganism at its vernal orgy. It is a spectacle badly conceived, badly manipulated and superbly desecrated by those disciples of Mammon, who, with armfuls of brilliant multi-colored eggs and gleeful joy, framed in parade stomping millinery, might, in a rare pseudo pious mood briefly condescend to acknowledge some sort of disquieting mystery pervading it all. Such is the perfunctory eater of modern Western society which seems to have lost appreciation for anachronisms like Rods and Staffs and Angels and Lambs.



The message here, though somewhat capricious, nebulous, and indefinable, is clearly underscored by intense feeling and brilliant colors. These highlight the melancholy age-old balance between the warmth of life and the iciness of death, spiced with the sardonic humor of irony.

The disquieting mood portends inescapable doom for the frail symbol of individual life and through seemingly callous extinction of its evanescent aura. The age-old balance is certainly skewed.



What is war? Is it a soldier dying, or guns, or bombs, or crosses, or weeping mothers, or sports, or patriotism, or valor, or high paying jobs? What is war? Not hell, for that is merely evil. War is worse than evil. It is mind-boggling suicide--mass suicide with humankind devouring or trying to devour itself.

In vein attempts to assuage some sort of weird, innate (and apparently insatiable) appetite nurtured by our true, and pagan god, Mars, we will not settle for less than the "flower of evolution" as the main course, embellishment by bountiful side dishes and fanciful shakers filled with the "fruits" of our marvelous hands and big starving brains.

How long before we really believe that salvation lies not in an insane paradox fostered by brute and selfish gluttony, but instead in the far more "nutritious" and healthy viand in the sadly neglected garden of human compassion and understanding? Considering the status of brotherhood today, probably too long.


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