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Evil Nostalgia

Evil Nostalgia - Why do we long for the past?

It’s fun to remember things that happened in our past. Childhood has both good and bad memories but we weed out those things that upset us.

I remember I wanted a two wheel bike. I kept asking my parents for a bike and they gave the usual excuse that it cost too much.

Then on my birthday, I’m guessing it was around eight or nine years old, they blind folded me. When the pulled off the kitchen towel it revealed a red two wheel bike. It had an electric horn and multicolor plastic streamers coming out of the hand grips. Fantastic.

Well, I took off on the bike wobbling along with the training wheels down the street.

I came upon my friend Karl Whitesman, who was autistic. I proudly told him I just got a new bike. He took one look and said, “It’s not new. It’s old.” Old? I looked down and what I thought was a red bike was actually rust. 

It was rusted solid including the chrome. My parents must have found it at the bottom of Lake Erie.

A lot of people have a nostalgia, a wish to return to a former time. In most cases that wish, that desire is for a time they will say was simpler. What they really mean to say is there were less choices. Less responsibility. Less awareness. Less acceptance. Less knowledge. Less cognition. 

Becoming an adult makes you aware of the reality of life.

If you become an adult.

If you become an adult you are aware you can make mistakes. You can make your life and others happy, sad, terrible, miserable.

It’s your choice.

People don’t like to make choices.

In fact, there are some who actually fear making choices. Fear of making the wrong choice. Fear of judgement. Fear of responsibility. Fear of awareness. Fear of acceptance. Fear of rejection. Fear of knowledge. Fear of cognition.

White House Chief of Staff is essentially the concierge of an administration. They keep the people in an administration up and running.

The other day General Kelly wished for a past when things were sacred.

He obviously was feeling the stress of his moment in time when he wished upon a star to return, that shown so dimly for so many except for white men.

He was trying to defend a man who had broken with the ideal of sanctity a long time ago. He was at odds with the facts both current and of the past he was nostalgic for.

That’s what happens when one wishes instead of doing.

When one is unwilling to accept things as they are. That the universe, the galaxy, the earth, life, the individual all change. 

You cannot hold time back from the inevitable change that will occur without your permission.

As it was said by a poet of the recent past, ”Either help or get out of the way when change comes your way.”

Nostalgia at it’s heart is evil. It wants what is the now to not only not change but to reverse and go back from whence it came.

It is divorcing your self from the reality of this universe that everything changes.

The nostalgia Kelly speaks of, repressed women and minorities to all be subservient, to the whims of the white male master of the house.

A simple time for simple minds.

A time when white men did not have to be bothered with worrying they had done something wrong, when in their position, they could never be found wrong.

Time has left some behind the times in which we live. It has left them clutching at a past that will not return. Especially when people of good faith and good hearts unite as we move forward towards the prize.



Forces Film, Again Begin



Every day we wake to questions that we have no answer to.

Some are simple while others are complex.


Why does my back hurt when I wake up in the morning?

Who used all of the toilet paper?

What’s happening across the street?

Where are my leftovers?

Who the hell is driving that car?

Why is it so hot out today?

What does that street person want me to do?

How come God doesn’t answer me?


What made that congressman smarter than me any ways?

What’s this spot on my shirt from?

Why does my knee hurt every time I climb the stairs?

Look at that asshole, doesn’t he know you can’t do that?

What are brown people complaining about? Aren't we all equal?

I don’t use drugs, why can she?

What does that black guy want me to do? Give him all my money?

Why is that woman proud? Doesn't she know she’s poor?

Who has the time to listen?

Why can’t we kick all the bad people, and you know who they are, out of our country?

Why does the president think that nazis and the klan are good people too?

Why doesn’t our legislature tell the president he’s wrong about white people losing their heritage?

Why would a president give a pardon to a known racist?




Sometimes, we don’t want the answer to our question because it will reveal a truth we are not comfortable about.

A truth we are not comfortable about our nation, our community, our selves.

A truth we do not want to examine because it means we will have to act. To do the good work. To stand against the darkness which wishes to extinguish the light we have fought for.



Forces Film, Again Begin

Where is the Hero


The boy stands on the corner of the street. His mind races, not letting in the questions that pummel him from the bystanders. At his feet lays his father.

Is he drunk?

Are you lost?

Who is that old man?

Look at that piece of shit.

The boy can't cry out. His mind caught by jagged thoughts. Thoughts that back him into a choking, dark corner. 

As all of time comes to a stop.. 

A hand reaches past the boy and checks for a pulse on the neck of the fallen guardian.

The same hands flex, move the body into position, force life back into the tired heart.

Who are the strong?

Where is compassion?

The heart knows what the mind cannot conceive.

The hero does what is needed.

The answer to all of our problems lies within the grasp of the hero that is in each of us.

Not born of radiation.

Not created by gods.

Not given birth by a miracle of DNA.

We all know what is the right thing to do. What prevents us from moving forward is the familiarity of our own doleful ignorance to accepting that the everything changes. Nothing stays the same.

We either accept that or we find ourselves at odds with our fellow participants in life. We constantly are at odds with the news, with people in line, in traffic, at the store, at the DMV, at places of worship, at places of amusement, fellow diners. The list is as endless as living itself.

We can make the promises of heaven here and now.

We, the hero, accept the call of the future to, “do”.



Forces Film, Again Begin

What The Righteous Hear


There is a portion of American society that likes to tell everyone else how terrible they are. 

Yes, I mean the followers of Jesus, who at every opportunity like to hammer into our heads the story of their Lord and Savior as if we haven’t heard it before.

However, I have found through my lifetime of experience in the far-right community that these followers hear a different set of words than what is written. 


The following quotes are what good people believe they hear from their Christ.

– You shall love your neighbor and ignore the non-white race.

– No one can serve two masters. Serve profit first and your fellow man can take care of himself. Get a job you lazy welfare cheat. Stop stealing good people’s hard earned money.

– Judge not people who look like you. Condemn those that do not look like you.

– You shall love your God with all your heart. Your fellow man who doesn’t believe as you can go to hell.

– For what shall it profit a man, if he works hard all his life and he has to share with the monkey races.

– A new command I give you, Love one another. But you faggots need to die so I can sleep at night not thinking about what you’re doing.

– Blessed are the merciful. Yet all of you who have used drugs a special place in hell is reserved for you scum.

– Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to cast a stone. Oh! He’s talking to me. I’ll throw a boulder at those asshole, non-christian, anti-Christmas, mongrel races. Especially at those godless Muslims.

– Suffer the little children, and forbid them not. Abortion, contraception, prenatal care are all the plan of Satan. All those abortion loving baby murders need to dive head first into a wood chipper. Jesus would love that.

– If you want to be perfect, go, and help the rich get richer because one day they’ll let you into their golden mansions and make you a billionaire too.

– For if you love those who love you, you don’t have to feel uncomfortable being around people who don’t speak english, who wear their pants off their ass or don’t smell like you.

– For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, to save the White man from the other dirty races of the world, to live an everlasting life in heaven, separate and not equal.

It’s a hard reality, that the loudest voices of condemnation out of the religious right, as well as that silent majority, are so afraid of the world we all live in.



Forces Film, Again Begin

Who You Owe


I have a question.

Potentially our current president Mr. Trump and his son-in-law owe over a billion U.S. dollars to a Russian bank/banks. The Russian banks operations are over seen by the Russian dictator Putin.

Question: If a president owes money to a foreign bank, does this influence foreign policy towards the country that the bank resides in?




Forces Film, Again Begin


Warner Road, Toluca Lake, CA, Daniel J Frey, Forces Film

It was a hot spring evening in Hollywood. I had just settled down to watch the Maher when a call interrupted my weekly dose of reality. It was a dame. It’s all ways a dame. She was crying, didn’t know where else to turn, she needed my help.

I told her to pull herself together, hit the John, get dried out. I know just what she needed. It was me.

I got my tools, I took everything, you never know what your going to need you know? I told my roommate, my day walker nephew who was pacing back and forth on the balcony learning his lines I was going out.

Out onto the 101, the Ventura Freeway over to a forgotten corner of tinsel town.

Toluca Lake.

I pulled up outside of a row of shacks. Leftover vintage bungalows where Warner use to warehouse his talent. I took my tools and casually made my way to the scene of the crime.

There it was, a big ugly lump laying across a table, bits and pieces strewn about with no intelligent regard. I turned the lump over, noted what I had to do. I could hear the young woman still crying in her hovel as I went to work on the monstrosity.

I hammered that son of a bitch over and over again. I felt a set of pleading eyes burn a hole in the back of neck. It was the dame standing in the doorway, her voice on lockdown.

Would the lump crack?

Then snap! The monster was free, it was finished. The dame called me her hero. Seems she sculpted a monster head, her mold was stuck together. Her naiveté and my expertise made some horror romance that night. Lucky the neighbors didn’t call the cops on us for all the hammering.

As I got into my car, the dame’s lipstick still hot on my cheek, I looked over at the Warner water tower. In my rearview mirror I could see Universal by the light of the full moon. I wiped the good sweat from my face and smiled.

Monster making in Hollywood.



Visit the dame at KateFreysfx.com

Forces Film, Again Begin