Nick Masesso, Jr.


“It is life, I think, to watch the water. A man can learn so many things.” –  Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Illuminating the enraptured notion that I am, as we all are, but a tiny speck of consciousness in an incredibly expanding, immense and almost eternal universe, 190 billion light years across, was never more prophetically enlightening then when I first saw the majesty that is Victoria Falls. I met her in 1974 where she straddles the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe in southern Africa.

Since the whole of black ruled Africa was then officially in a state of war with apartheid Zimbabwe, named Rhodesia then, and I’d promised myself despite that sanction that I would not travel over 8,000 miles and be denied a Visa into Zambia, which I was, it left me little choice. Enlisting the talents of my native pals fearless guidance; we snuck across…

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Nick Masesso, Jr.


 “Authority is supposedly grounded in wisdom, but I could see from a very early age that authority was only a system of control and it didn’t have any inherent wisdom. I quickly realized that you either became a power or you were crushed”  Joe Strummer

The flower of America’s youth lift and flutter like bees as they skyrocket, soaring like gliders above the sidewalk in front of the Dairy Queen in my small American hamlet. In chaotic formations, high on hearts afire they transmit their pollen of optimism on each other and send me a glorious contact buzz.

They are dressed as soldiers in an army of denim and sneakers hidden under Caps & Gowns that flow; like ersatz apparitions floating on an ocean of idealism, that tasty narcotic designer drug; an alchemist potion hypnotizing only the young before that giant pull to mediocrity descends like a Monty…

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Goin’ Mobile

Nick Masesso, Jr.

“Gotta do what you can just to keep your love alive. Trying not to confuse it with what you do to survive. In sixty-nine I was twenty-one and I called the road my own. I don’t know when that road turned on to the road I’m on.”  Running on Empty; Jackson Browne

The hardest thing a man can ever do is regain the heart of a woman he has betrayed. I knew it was a suicide ride but I took the mission anyway. What the hell else was I gonna do? 

Noon the first day; I locked up my bedroom and stepped into the cool air with nothing I needed left there behind me. I stowed the gear in the spaceship and opened the door for my co-pilot-nurse and pointed us south for the desert. She was taking me, once again, to a place I’d never been before; no more

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Nick Masesso, Jr.

“See me, feel me, touch me, heal me” – Tommy – The Who

An old friend posted a review for my books and reading it made me want to put my feet up, stick a ten-dollar cigar in my face and sip an expensive whiskey. I experienced the Pavlova effect; like an appreciated puppy I had to have a piss.

From that first paper we handed in to a teacher four times our size hoping for approval, we got tricked into believing we needed approval and we carry that stigma into adulthood. Wanting to fit in has destroyed untold numbers of artists in the crib. The man who needs approval the least is King.

We all want approval of some sort or another and that separates the normal from the serial killers and psychopaths and organizes what we call society. It’s OK to want approval; the trick is not to need…

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Finito Benito

Explicit language video attached

Oak-Town Bump City boys say you will not get a wall. You will not get millions of new high paying jobs. You will not see businesses bullied into staying home. You will not get paid by trade wars. You will not be safer by banning dark skinned people. You will not be served by the all bad style no class elitist masquerading as a populist Carnival Barker on your TV because the revolution will not be televised. The revolution will be live.

The puppet master clown jester has riled up the Nativist; they are restless, itchy, scraping at the last bit of slimy goo at the bottom of the barrel; the saved up spewing of their new redeemer, the classless D.J. Rump. He bloviates as he gesticulates; conjuring memories of the original II Duce; the last National Fascist Party leader, the Rumps idol; Benito Mussolini.