Off to Berlin!


In the morning we hear to the train station for a few nights in Berlin.

  The last time I was there the Wall was still up and it was a city surrounded by oppression and fear. Berlin was, and from what I hear still is, a party town. I can only imagine the thoughts of former East Germans as they saw the lights and heard the sounds of their Western counterparts reveling until the dawn. 

 Come the morning, I will finally get to travel freely to Berlin without the fear of detainment for for opposing communism. Photos soon.  

Back in Germany


Well I have finally made it back to the country I grew up in. I am currently in the city of Detmold, a city I was not familiar with in the past, but find it very cool. Cool because of all the amazing buildings and history, but also literally. It is April 4th and freaking cold! Here, check out this scuture called The Apocalypse. 

  

 

We are headed to what is know as Germany’s Stonehenge. Photos to follow. 

Here, I climbed  this today!

   

   

Oh my!


As you can see I have started writing here again. I had to pause to recover from hand surgery, the first step in becoming Wolverine.

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Now that I am basically healed, I can start pecking away at the keyboard. What do I do as soon as I come back? Post some wimpy shit about my life and attack a friends boobs. Sorry.

To be fair, I think I wrote the attack piece in a fever state. I am sick as hell. This is the first cold I have had in a very long time.

So, to anyone offended… oops. I don’t apologize. I will own up and say I was wrong though.

Pass the NyQuil.

Tits are for talent?


RANT TIME! It is a stupid one as well, so move along.

I have been a fan of a certain writer for years now. Got to know her online, she introduced me to some major talent in the art field. What drew me to her? Her huge tits. When you put yourself out there as an author, then change your Facebook pic to you wearing a super-tight “geek shirt“, you lose some points in the artistic realm.

'Total Recall' Remake

What got me on this tit rant was this woman’s newest update to her Kickstarter. She started this series of books years ago. I have always supported her. My problem is… She treats her novel as a comic book! Yeah, there are heroes and superhuman fights, but as each book has come along, she started adding more artwork. Not just to the book, but as incentives to pledge. Her books have become novels with concept art pages in the center. Fluff!

If that wasn’t enough, her stretch goals. Useless comi-con bling. T-shirts, art cards (each from famous comic artists), zipper bobs. Zipper bobs?! WTF is that and what does it have to do with the story? This is from her own website…

In addition to the novel itself, the book features an art gallery with original character designs by artists from Marvel, DC, Dark Horse and Image: Barry Kitson, Dan Panosian, Dave Johnson, Mark McKenna, Natasha Allegri, Jason Baroody, Derek Laufman, Thor Mangila and Jon ‘Roc’ Upchurch – as well as YouTube personality Comic Book Girl 19.

So she wrote a book… And had everyone else do the hard work!

My biggest hate of this new breed of writer is Kickstarter. You only have to have a basic outline of a story to get thousands of horny teens to pony up $50,000 K for a novel that isn’t even written yet. If you would stop fucking around with designers, 3 editors and trips South of the Border, this last book of the trilogy would be finished. Part one was OK. Part two? I couldn’t stomach it.

So today, when she put up her video update, I called her and all writers out on not having a story before you raised the money. I joked about her boobs and how her vacation photos would be in my inbox soon. Joking with her as I always do.

I get berated.

Give me $50K. I would sit in a cabin for a month and bang out something pretty cool. I would use that money to support myself and expenses, not t-shirts and stickers. There is time for all that if you can get a movie deal out of this trilogy. I am in a piss mood anyway so fuck it. Let the boobs win. I like boobs and hate having my feelings for them used to sell something I am not interested in.

EDS… KCCO


I was just on The Chive’s charity site filling in an application for help. I got stuck at the part where I had to show proof of my diagnosis and doctor info. Well my diagnosis is from one doctor, I have an orthopedic doctor, pain doctor and general practitioner. I can only use one doctor and some I haven’t seen for years!

I have this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. It affects people in many ways, but my hay is pain and hyper-mobility combined with severe fatigue. The connective tissues in my body don’t grow back. Joints dislocate daily and it does not feel good at all. That is me and I am gonna stop harping on it now.

I try not to ask for charity, but things are getting tough. At first I thought a cool therapy pool would work. Then I started thinking. The bane of my life… thought. I thought about how my room is a disaster area. I risk falling and dislocation a random joint every night to pee. Mom is going on 70 and taking care of her 45 years old son. Our house is falling apart because I can no longer work on it.

My father was a Vietnam vet, Purple Heart. We were lifers in the military. I joined up with the USAF, but my then unknown condition led me to an early medical release with a blown knee. These days, everything is blown.

I am in a good place right now, mom got me plane tickets to go visit home, Germany, in April and I couldn’t be happier. Who am I kidding? I spent ages 5-23 over there. I am ecstatic. I just hope my body holds up for this one last journey. I plan on having my first script finished when I return.

Reading all these inspirational letters on The Chive, seeing people set up gofundme.com accounts for people they don’t even know warms my soul. I read about a sick kid, reach for my wallet… only to remember, Government disability only pays me $635 a month.

I don’t want pity. I want a home, a safe hope. One where a 70-year-old doesn’t have to rake leaves. I want the pain to stop, it wont, but one of those hot-tub/swimming pools sounds like heaven. I am not asking for someone to start an indiegogo or gofundme page. I just wanna get out of bed once in a while, talk to mom and not worry about the house falling.

Promises broken to myself.


So last year at this time, I decided to promise myself something. Since New Years Resolutions always go bust, I just made a simple statement about how I was going to do something big the following year (2014).

Well I had all these great writing/photography gigs set up and thought this was my breakthrough year. I had a comic script I was working on, a novel and a host of other projects that would fulfill my definition of big. Well EDS and other mysterious illnesses foiled me along with my ineptitude. .

As my main talent these days is writing, I thought it was gonna be a cakewalk. Well enter unknown, bone eating whatever the fuck. Suddenly my hand, well pinkie but hand sounds better, was having its bones chomped on, and it hurt. I went to my ortho doc and he thought it was some arthritis shit. He goes in, fuses finger joints and tests to see what it was. He couldn’t find out, it was some anomaly. So I am laid up for months with some Wolverine, metal rod stuck in my finger. Typing is hard one handed people.

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Then concert gigs! Yay! I got to see the last Motley Crue tour, go backstage and meet the guys, but no press. The freaking venue didn’t allow it. Fuckers. After bragging that I would have a huge scoop, band after band PR people started… not calling me.

So this past year sucked. I have some personal plans for next  year, but I am at the fuck it stage right now. Money is tight, gotta pay for medical shit and get the hell out of debt. That is why I am selling my most prized possessions, stuff Nikki Sixx and Crue signed. I am even including the signed copy of The Heroin Diaries that has kept me clean all these years. Here is the link to the eBay auction.

As for next year? I have no clue.

The BRAT Perspective: ‘We Are not Spoiled Brats’


army-brats-570x200So I wrote this thing for military.com check it out here, or here
December 18, 2014, in KidsSpouse & Family News by 

In recent weeks, there has been a war of two cultures across social media.

There is a group, a non-profit, called Operation C.H.A.M.P.S (Child Heroes Attached to Military Personnel) that is run by a mother/daughter duo out of Maryland. A former slogan, that has since been removed from the internet, was “BRATs are now CHAMPs.”

To those familiar with military children, you know we have a special affection for the “BRAT” name. It symbolizes more emotions, history and pride than can really be put into words. The very thought that we, mere children at the time, could be called “heroes” is offensive. It not only falsely labels us, but diminishes who the real heroes were — our parents.

This act means to steal honor from our true heroes, our mothers and fathers, who have heroically served our country. We were not heroes, we tagged along. We thrived. We see this attempt to change the term of endearment known as “BRAT” as an attempt to steal the subcultural identity of millions of people around the world. Our greatest fear was a coffin draped with the American Flag. That was daily life – the root of our culture;, the source of our heritage, the very thing that makes us family. Being a BRAT is all of that to us. We do not feel at all deprived or disconnected.

Now we are in the middle of a PR war and painted as “spoiled brats.”

The BRAT flower is a dandelion. Pick a dandelion, blow the petals off and wherever they land, they will flourish. Many consider it a weed, but to us it symbolizes the strength and resourcefulness a BRAT has. We moved at least every 3 years, changed schools countless times and made and lost hundreds of friends. As military children we endured saying goodbye through eyes that held back tears, tears that were sometimes stronger than we were. We shed them in group hugs as we left, silently on a plane that was flying us to a new home and at times into new pillows that muffled our sadness. With each new assignment there was the sadness of loss yet the promise of a new adventure.

We became adept, acquired skills. These skills recently manifested in the alleged attack on Operation CHAMPS. Articles site that our actions closed essential help to military families, specifically the babysitting program. That was not our intention. That is one of the few parts of their program we applauded.

The book published by the group that wanted to change the name, The Little C.H.A.M.P.S, was a gross misrepresentation of military life filled with alcoholism, bed-wetting and shame for being a child of a service member. While researching the company, we discovered inconsistencies and strange business not commonly used by non-profits. Sponsors were unaware of the content of the materials and only saw the fact they were helping the military. Lavish trips to Europe and SE Asia were flaunted online, while the owners, the Finks, touted “bridging the gap between civilian and military children.”

The Finks do not understand the perceived disconnect that BRATs face when they “age out” or “PCS.” They call the program they offer Edu-tainment. BRATs do not need a song and dance filled with a fantastical misrepresentation of military life. Speaking from personal, lifelong experience, they need help with reintegration.

I, along with a newly formed group of like minded BRATs, are in the process of redressing the void, small as it may have been. There are over 3,000 of us actively working (millions in the background), without pay but with passion, to make the life of the military child better than ever. Teachers, writers, medical professionals, and activists from around the world are answering the call.

We have welcomed everyone with open arms, offered a chance to dialog with the Finks, but we had been shut out. We feel recent columns published about what happened reflect the gross misunderstanding. I am here to show you our side.

We are not “spoiled brats.” We are proud children of real heroes, fighting for our legacy, our heritage, and our birthright and the chance to help our younger brethren of today.

Michael Hyatt spent the years 1975-1993 moving from base to base in the European theater. Upon moving to the States, he went through years of reintegration troubles, joined the USAF and finally settled down as a novelist. 

Photo courtesy U.S. Army.