Revvin’ Wit ‘da Rev.

#9 6/3/08

 Church of Perch founder and remunerator Rev. Troutski P. Trout sent this update to cyberspace where it will appear in perpetuity on the web site everyone is talking about, everyone in a dream he had last night that is. 

His words will surely strike a chord with people of disparate cloth, including Madras. Prophetic, pathetic, apoplectic and nausea inducing, the following rhetoric is more troubling than the sound of eight-thousand trillion termites eating away the thin wooden floor that separates you from the floodplain..

Yet, alas and heretofore, someone needs to acknowledge the truth.  And because Rev. Trout is always right, never wrong, completely unbound and deeply religious to boot, you might as well settle back, unloose your tie, unloose some Thai and get real comfortable around this discourse. 

Hi gospel lovers, it’s me, Rev. Trout here.  How is everyone tonight?  I can’t hear you.

Knowing joy and compassion are the real measures of success and knowing we can all use more success in our lives I urge each and every one of you to continue treating strangers as poorly as possible and look down on all disadvantaged people with the kind of contempt usually associated with the surly behavior of pirates urinating off the coast of West Africa who may be having bad hair days or even worse heir daze.

We face perilous times in our sad excuse for a culture.  Home values have plummeted to the point Bill Gates’ house is worthless and even the land it rests on is tired of idle humor; vagrants are mayors of major U.S. cities, including Buck Naked, Arkansas where former president Bill Clinton once told a married waitress he never played sax with that woman; flea markets have begun replacing hoity art galleries and snooty sneaker emporiums in high-end shopping malls; no Hollywood stars are currently involved in divorce disputes according to the covers of tabloids for sale in the super markets we frequent, excluding Wall-mart which we infrequent; I can’t type with two open beers.

This perfect storm, this convening of calamities has led the current leader of Iran to threaten with extinction any country where women are allowed to breath.  Zealots are running the show, from your zip code to the Halls of Montezuma where a bunch of college students just became ill from drinking post-dated goat milk.  Speaking to the clergy in Tehran, the sovereign zealot guaranteed imminent destruction will envelope our consciousness just as most of us were beginning to grasp Islamic Law, including the provision that instructs anyone stupid enough to complete this sentence must surely be going to Bangkok.

A hard rain is going to fall and a dumb reign is going to implode. Either Bush leaves the White House with more silverware than BOTH of the Clintons could steal or my name isn’t Marie Anderson.  Vixens will appear from the heavens, the Christian heaven, the Jewish heaven, the Mormon AND Amish heavens, the Islamic heaven (praise the Lord) and the Catholic heaven, not necessarily in that divine order.  Holy radiant light will emanate from their wingspans, some exceeding 30-cubic-feet and others jutting out only mere inches from your wingtips.

Wait. Excuse me.  Someone’s trying to reach me on my felt cone.  Just a minute please.

OK, I’m back. But I can’t stay.  My friend from the baths, Mohammad, wants me to join he and his brothers on one of them-there jihad deals.  I don’t plan on hurting anyone although I think it’s a good idea to play along with them as if I am at least as intolerant as the next extremist, learn what I can and report back to y’all in a fortnight or two. 

I’ll miss you more than you miss me.

Ask Rev. Trout

 www.troutpomeroy.com.

Our goal is to enhance your life. “We” in this case are the writer, his family, friends, debtors, detractors and former wives. 

To sustain the hilarity and extend his humanity, we have recently embarked upon a new marketing strategy designed to keep you in reading and listening material and keep us in seclusion. 

Here is how the campaign is shaping up:

 The Music

 Several CDs featuring the folk-rock expressions of this blatantly sarcastic artist are available for sale through the www.alleyrecords.com web site. Featuring over-the-top brilliant lead guitar samplings from Michigan-based Dan Hazlett and heroically strong studio support from musician/engineer Billion Watts, the tapes celebrate songs composed during the artist’s brief professional fling in the early-1970s. Tucson bass phenomenon Bill Ronstadt contributes generously on these projects. They also feature the amazing John Swayze on banjo and emerging star Garrett Pomeroy on back-up guitar.

 By using this links below you can purchase the following releases:

To "Try before you Buy" click here »»SAMPLES

              "Contemplating Time"                                               “Staid Too Long”

                   “Road Scholar”                                                          "Ramblin’ Boy”

                “Vague Vagabond”                                                “The Path is Wide”    

              "A Time Remember"                                     "Extraordinary Renditions"  

 The Books

If Others Remember

Publisher: Outskirts Press

Swimming Downstream.

A link exists herein to journey through cyberspace to the source of these enriching bodies of work.  Here is a thumbnail sketch of each book:

If Others Remember

This late-‘60s memoir is shocking but true, banal but benevolent, highly personal yet broadly general. Wacky as hell at times while grimly serious at others, this book could possibly border on sheer pointlessness except for the fact the time-period it evaluates has turned out to be of insane historical interest to younger readers.  Readers will traverse the 1968-1972 Era through the experiences and perspectives of the non-celebrity writer who was passing through his mid-20s at the time with a brain that worked fairly well at least occasionally. Readers will encounter the Kent State shootings, the American Vietnam War and the emergence of marijuana and later, cocaine, in contemporary culture.  You will also meet two primary characters in this authentic drama, the legendary lawyer-to-be, Spike, and the gorgeous motel swimming pool life guard, Nancy – each of whom entered the writer’s life and in rather blatant ways directed his journey from straight-as-shit right wing Republican to quasi-commie, war protesting psychedelic warrior, and back again.

Swimming Downstream

This collection of columns, writings, newspaper articles and death threats contains approximately 100 pieces all bearing the signature style of a writer who was once compared to Aunt Jemima. No thematic consistency unites this work.  Instead, the writer leads the reader on a wild romp around a camp for retired nymphomaniacs embracing topics as diverse as noodle extraction and gargantuan gargling while tacitly ignoring physics, algebra and Latin studies.  Even though ambitious fish opt for upstream angling this slimy sludge indulges the concept of going with the flow as triumphantly as possible.  Flying in the face of the advice of several literary agents who warned the writer “anyone can write a column,” this body of work deserves a place in the pantheon of post-Puritanical prose as it also has the potential to work on the body of the reader, especially the funny-bone.   

E-Books

 Some of the writer’s books –

Larceny of Letters: Breaking in as a Writer (Intro) (Prologue)

Days Gone Bill  (Intro) 

Facing 50: An  Essay on Aging (Intro)

One Brief Run  (Intro)