CHICANONAUTICA CELEBRATES AN APOCALYPTIC INDEPENDENCE DAZE

. . . on Chicanonautica, at La Bloga.

The U.S. of A is another year older:

We avoided traditional rituals:

Do we need cosmic impacts to change our society?

And the evolution goes on:

BACK TO ARTSY-FARTSY COWBOY LAND

Emily and I went out on an overnight jaunt to get away from the soaring temperatures in Phoenix and the all-night setting off of explosives that have become an Independence Day ritual in our neighborhood. Why not Artsy-Fartsy Cowboy Land, Sedona, the New Age Mecca? It was cooler than the Valley of the Sun. We could go to some of our favorite restaurants, and poke around the streets that seem more like a theme park every year. 

There were flags, but they seemed subtle in this town where surrealist Max Ernst once lived and the ghost of P.T. Barnum would feel at home.

The big night was quiet. Not a sparkler or firecracker.

What do artsy-farty cowboys do on the 4th?

We passed a place called the Vortex— not the Vortex, but a place that sold “activated” tonics, juices, smoothies, and coffees. I wondered how they activated them. I imagined a device out of Dr. Frankenstein’s lab. According to their website, “Adaptogenic herbs and superplants” are activated with a “Proprietary Hand crafted ultra high vibrational substance” that has “Rose Vibes, Shilajit, Love, Magic, and some other powerful ingredients.”

Like the Firesign Theater said, “there’s a seeker born every minute.”

After breakfast at the fabulous Coffee Pot, we cruised Oak Creek Canyon, checked out the Midgley Bridge stickers and graffiti (an interesting 21st century tradition), and stopped for iced tea at Indian Gardens. Nothing Adaptogenic, but great for the blood pressure.

Then we headed for Cottonwood. Em’s phone rang. We had left a bag of clothes at the hotel.

We groaned, but decided not to let it get to us, turned around with smiles on our faces. Turns out it wasn’t our bag—it contained swimsuits we had never seen before. The universe may have had a reason for us to go back. Maybe it was just a reminder not to take shit so seriously.

Finally, made it to Cottonwood, a genuine, hippie-dippy, artsy-fartsy cowboy town complete with an Iron Horse Hotel, a Hippie Emporium, antique stores, and much, much more. There was a meditation center next to a Mexican restaurant, but if you’ve got good Mexican food, meditation is redundant.

And there were murals!

It was a lovely drive back. Only a little bit of an end-of-the-holiday-weekend traffic jam.

We’ll return to Artsy-Fartsy Cowboy Land in the future, being seekers of a sort.

In Chicanonautica, over at La Bloga, I’ll do something about the darker, political implications of what we saw . . .

CHICANONATICA SPIES ON THE WILD, WILD BORDER

Chicanonautica, at La Bloga, is about trouble at the border.

As fantasized in an old TV show:

The proto-steampunk, Wild, Wild West:

James Bond in the Old West:

With “Hispanic” villains:

AMERICAN DREAMING ON THE EDGE OF THE ABYSS

Happy Fourth, folks! When you read this, I’ll be on a romp across the wilds of Arizona with Emily. A great way to celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I’ll be taking photos and notes for a travelogue. Stay tuned.

But it’s kind of bittersweet now, with an especially bizarro election looming. What’s with all these people calling themselves patriots but wanting to trash the Declaration, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights? Do they know what the words they’re throwing around mean? Do they understand English?

And it’s not just here. All over the planet, people are warming up to the dictators.

Raging ignorance. Cult thinking. Argh.

And the world is in the hands of people who can’t make up their minds. At this point the election is about winning them over. Working with people who don't agree with you. Y'know, democracy.

I understand. There never seems to be a candidate that is in line with my view, but I’m a wild and crazy vato with far-out ideas. I learned long ago that me and politicians aren’t going to get along.

I’ve long considered voting to be like a pinball game. You whack away, hoping the ball will go where you want. Sure, often it doesn’t, but if you don’t whack, the assholes win and you didn’t do anything.

I’ve already made up my mind to vote for Biden, or whoever  may be running against Trump, who does more to make me want to vote against him every day.

Yeah, I know about the wars, and Biden is starting to look like the new LBJ, but Trump–who ain’t no peace freak and hates protesters–is worse than Nixon ever was, and is promising a full-blown dystopian nightmare if he wins.

Did I mention that Democracy is teetering on the edge of the abyss?

I know about protest votes–I’ve done them. They don’t do any good. I’ve always regretted it afterward.

Don’t worship politicians–I honestly don’t believe you should worship anything–they are pawns in this important game. Vote for them, but you don’t have to follow them. More important, vote against them, don’t invite the batshit crazy vampires into your front door, much less into the White House (again). Sacrifices must be made, as the Aztecs knew well . . .

And the day after the election, feel free to protest your ass off. One shitstorm at a time. Think strategically.

It’s awkward, and difficult, but far better than letting the monsters run the world.

Meanwhile, try to have some fun. I’ll be back with some weird, silly stuff soon. I promise.

 What's that? Immunity . . .

CHICANONAUTICA HANGS WITH ALIENÍGENAS AMERICANOS

Don’t know how legal they are, but they’re out of this world, from a book reviewed in Chicanonautica, at La Bloga.

We’re talkng UFOs:

Over South America:

And Mexico:

Plus chupacabras, and more:

THE GONZO SCIFIISTA TEACHES AGAIN!

Are you a writer in the Latinoid Continuum with a dangerous imagination who missed my “Gonzo Science Fiction, Chicano Style” class at the Palabras del Pueblo Writing Workshop in the Spring, or even if you know such a person, good news–I’m doing it again in the Fall!

It’ll be the first two weekends of October: October 5, 6 and October 12, 13 at 9am to 1pm Pacific. And it's on Zoom.

 

I’m sticking with the gonzo title because I figured I could keep plugging Guerrilla Mural of a Siren’s Song: 15 Gonzo Science Fiction Stories, and I can keep it freeform, centering it on what the students want.

I could even talk about creative nonfiction with mentions of my piece in Our Creative Realidades, and Chicanofuturism, as in the upcoming Chicanofuturism: El Porvenir, ¡Ya!  II that will feature a new story about Paco Cohen, Mariachi of Mars. Yeah, it’ll get weird.

Just another way to help encourage fantastic fiction from brains infected by the Lationoid virus, to make culture on this planet spicier!

CHICANONAUTICA CHERCHEZES THE WHITHER GOEST THOU AMERICA WEIRDENESS

 

What’s Chicanonautica cherchezing over at La Bloga?

The election in Arizona:

Remember Trent Franks?

 

Who the hell is Abe Hamadeh?

And meanwhile, across the border . . .

INSTAGRAMED AND WIKIPEDIAED

A publisher once dismissed my audience as a “noisy minority.” Since then I’ve been advising all minorities to make more noise. I make a lot of noise myself.

The recent post here featuring Jan Karlo’s post about Guerrilla Mural of a Siren’s Song: 15 Gonzo Science Fiction Stories on Instagram shows how this can make things happen. Karlo has since posted another one about High Aztech, with another great quote:

Another great trippy sci-fi read that takes you to different cities and planets, painting a psychedelic world similar to blade runner. The virus that acts as the real main character is a great vessel for the theme and message of the novel.

When I put it on Facebook, it got more quotable reactions:

And it's true. You created an entire Genre! And will be remembered. Now if they could just heap that pile O cash at your feet now, that would be great! - Selina Phanara

And:

This novel is so f*&^%g good I once let two stoned guys at a Con talk themselves into believing that *I* had written it under my pseudonym of Ernest Hogan.” - Don Webb

I will be exploiting them all soon . . .

And that’s not all, I’ve also been written into a Wikipedia article, Speculative Fiction by Writers of Color, in the section on U.S Latino Authors Contributions of Speculative Fiction:

. . . Ernest Hogan comments on how being Chicano helped his speculative writing because being a Chicano is a science fiction state of being, since Chicanos exist between two cultures. Hogan integrated his Chicano culture into his work to reflect how different worlds can collide into stories while highlighting the struggle of trying to feel connected to a specific culture.

 And in the Chicano Futurism Theme/Authors section:

Chicano futurism is an emerging and vibrant community within U.S. literature and media. Latino speculative fiction, in particular, has witnessed a remarkable surge in popularity and creativity. An illustrative example of this phenomenon is found in "Smoking Mirror Blues" by Ernest Hogan. This work not only captivates readers with its imaginative narrative but also delves deeply into the complexities of Western rationalism, which is deeply entrenched in the patriarchal history of modernity and colonialism.

Again, very exploitable, and fitting into my diabolical plans with my being in the forthcoming Chicanofuturism Now anthology . . .

CHICANONAUTICA EXPOSES POETRY AND/OR VIOLENCE IN LA GALLERA

A bold, new crime novel reviewed in Chicanonautica, at La Bloga:

It’s noir:

There’s cockfighting:

Cocaine:

In Spain:

SOMEBODY LIKES MY BOOKS

You really know you’re a writer when you have these needs.

First, you need to write. Duh, but it’s amazing how many wannabes I’ve known over the years beat themselves up trying to become a writer without writing.

Next you need to get published. If I haven’t been published in a while, I get depressed. This year I’m feeling good, with a Guerrilla Mural of a Siren’s Song: 15 Gonzo Science Fiction Stories, “Lost in Trumptopia” in Our Creative Realidades: A Nonfiction Anthology, and (a drum roll please) “A Wild and Woolly Road Trip on Mars”—a new Paco Cohen, Mariachi of Mars story–coming soon in Chicanofuturism Now.

If I have a long dry spell, it can get pretty grim. I have to remind myself that I actually have a career. Blogging and social media help, but there’s nothing like getting published. Talk about addiction.

But, still, that isn’t enough. You need to have people read and react to it. It's nice to be called a genius, but I even like it when someone gets pissed off or offended.

And then, oh yeah, there’s making money, but that's a whole other pendejada.

I’ve been nervous about Guerrilla not getting “real” reviews, but meanwhile, I’ve been getting proof that people like it.

Like Jan Karlo, one of my students from the Gonzo Science Fiction, Chicano Style class He was impressed enough to go on to read Cortez on Jupiter, which was based on the title story of my collection and do an Instagram story on it. He also did one about Guerrilla.

I was delighted and put them both on Facebook and Twitter. And here at Mondo Ernesto.

Self-promotion. It becomes a way of life after a while.

It also makes me feel good, in the mood to get back to making my Paco Cohen stories into a novel . . .