The New Boy Paranormal

The collision of technology, conservative ideology, and the incel movement in American culture is resulting in a volatile mix of online radicalization, misogyny, and political extremism.

By amplifying exclusionary beliefs, digital platforms normalize violence and connect isolated individuals into communities that can spill over into real-world harm.

Online platforms, social media, and dedicated incel sites provide a fertile breeding ground and powerful echo chamber for individuals with extremist and misogynistic views. It is in these intellectually dank digital hangouts that we encounter the danger of algorithmic amplification and the recommendation systems, which push members of these online communities deeper into radical content, normalizing hostility toward women and liberal values.

There is also a porn-component to this toxic, digital culture. Studies show links between incel misogyny and online pornography, which reinforces distorted views of women and sexuality.

What’s even more concerning is the acceptance of misogynistic beliefs and behaviors as “boys will be boys” by the Trump administration, which is tapping into the aggrieved community of non-college-educated males, not for the purpose of assisting them, but rather to turn their growing sense of isolation and anger towards college-educated women into votes.

There is an overlap between MAGA conservatism and ideology and the INCEL movement in America, specifically around the anti-feminist narrative, where both groups tend to frame feminism as a threat to traditional gender roles.

INECELS adopt a worldview of being “dispossessed men,” which resonates with broader conservative rhetoric about cultural decline and loss of male authority.

It’s at our own peril that we turn a blind eye to the alignment of incels and far-right groups around exclusionary, anti-democratic, and xenophobic tendencies. Isolated and digitally immersed young men in America are susceptible to being drawn to extremist online communities that distort masculinity and normalize misogyny.

The blending of conservative ideology with incel dogma and rhetoric widens the divide over gender, sexuality, and democracy, fueling broader culture wars in a country that is more culturally polarized than ever.

I wrote a poem a while back about the radicalization of young non-college-educated males through far-right groups around exclusionary, anti-democratic, and misogynistic views. I used the AI music platform Suno to put my poem to music.

Here is the resulting song, New Boy Paranormal.

Let me know what you think in the comments!


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-911 America.

Baby Teeth and Bullets Meets AI Music Generator

What to do with a shoe box full of lyrics, looking for a place to live?

I’ve always wanted to set some of my work to music, but because I have no musical skills, nothing ever came of it.

I’ve been seeing a lot of AI-generated content on social media lately, so this morning I created an account on Suno.com, picked a genre, pasted a poem I wrote years ago (Baby Teeth and Bullets), and clicked Generate.

I wasn’t sure what to expect as I watched the progress wheel on the Suno website spin round and round.

In about 1 minute, Suno set my poem to music in accordance with a genre and other characteristics I selected.

I was amazed at how quickly Suno created the song and, even though I feel a little conflicted (guilty?) about using AI to create art, I was giddy at the result.

Checkout Baby Teeth and Bullets the song and let me know what you think about it and about the ethics of using AI to generate art.

Baby Teeth and Bullets – Musical Version.

The Glen

Remember when

we walked the Glen

down to the Manor

and back again

just passersby

to grass and sky

with inlet smiles

and sunlit eyes


Cicada rhythms

danced through the trees

the Sakonnet rolled

out to the sea

that world embraced

both you and me


Remember when

we walked no more

stopped skipping stones

along the shore

we buried secrets

in closet walls

dodged each other

in narrow halls

Glen strolls replaced

by trips to malls

by all-day meetings

and late-night calls


We lost ourselves

and raised the kids

crossed some lines

and hit the skids

then peeled apart

as our parents did


Mundanity paved over love

harsh words gave way

to push and shove

our home became

a handless glove


Does love lie dormant

at the Glen

under rotting leaves

and muddied Zen

or is Wolfe’s

“You can’t go home again”

as true as dirt and oxygen

where the fireflies

we choose to chase

are snuffed

by Moirai’s cold embrace?


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-911 America.

Stephen Hawking Talking

I heard Stephen Hawking talking

to a mirror on the wall

about dust-dance-chaos in tornadoes

and wheelchair wheelies at the mall


I heard Stephen Hawking talking

to Rip Vanwinkle on a plane

about a theory he’s been stalking

around the surface of his brain


I saw Stephen Hawking talking

to dark shadows in the rain

about bending atoms in the Balkans

and mending Jacob Marley’s chain


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-911 America.

American Graffiti

Cast your eye

ankle high

to the message wall

six inches tall

an instructive blurb

from the stony curb

inflicting think

with paint and ink

about a world

that’s on brink

Don’t be led by the moronic clown

who doesn’t know

what’s up from down

who sows the seeds

of discontent

and puts our feet

into cement

Don’t be fooled by the moronic clown

who doesn’t know

what’s up from down

who creates the chaos

in the street

then sends in troops

to “keep the peace”

who says that he’s

the only one

who can fix the shit

that he has done

Don’t be led by the moronic clown

who wears his lies

like a crown

who proffers hate

through Russian bots

while sending fascist

forget-me-nots


Shift your view

below your shoe

to the message wall

six inches tall

to the good advice

for one and all

inflicting think

with paint and ink

about a world

that’s on brink


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-911 America.

Robber Barons and Bullies

Marble-toothed titans
with sneers caked in madness
greed-fed on blood bags
in sweatshops of sadness

Kingpins with linchpins
thick carrots and sticks
deft robber barons
are up to their tricks

The morally crippled
gerrymander in Texas
felonious punk-thugs
that hate and perplex us

Gun toting douchebags
in Home Depot lots
promoting a fascist
while twisting the knot

The clown at the helm
of this powerful nation
is steeped in decline
and reverse escalation

Whitewashing history
attacking the truth
a maniacal misfit
both rude and uncouth

He creates chaos
to hold onto power
commanding the guard
from his fake ivory tower

Targeting cities
that are mostly all blue
a pig who gropes kitties
and pays porn stars to screw

Visions of heaven
black heart full of hate
He’s never come close
to making us great


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my first book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book on Amazon or elsewhere, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-9/11 America.

Paint It, Black

Read to the cadence of “Paint it, Black” by the Rolling Stones.

I see a brown wall
and I want it painted black
if you have brownish skin
I want to send you back

I see brown men walk by
dressed in their working clothes
I tell my ICE agents
It’s time to make them go

I see the Ukraine fry
in Russian drone attacks
the bombing raids and tanks
that turn their cities black

I see our democracy
begin to fade away
a thousand starving kids
in Palestine today

When I look inside myself
I see my heart is black
the orange spray-on tan
can’t cover up the fact

’till that day I fade away
you’re tied onto the track
I’ll make you suffer days
while turning this world black

I watch the climate change
from here to Timbuktu
I smile at the heat that’s
burning into you

If you look hard enough
into my soulless eyes
there’s only room enough
for all that I despise

I see a brown wall
and I want it painted black
just like my darkened heart
too hard to even frac

I see brown men walk by
dressed in their working clothes
I tell my ICE agents
It’s time to make them go

My feeble mind is tainted
tainted black
Black as night
Black as coal
I wanna see the hope
Blotted out from your eyes
I wanna see them painted, painted, painted
painted black, yeah


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my first book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book on Amazon or elsewhere, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-9/11 America.

Book Number 2

Hi folks,

I’ve just published “Imagine There’s No Donald” on Amazon.com.

Imagine There’s No Donald is a lyrical collection that channels the melodic cadence of (mostly) Beatles songs to deliver searing poetic indictments of Donald Trump, the MAGA movement, and their corrosive impact on American democracy.

Each poem echoes the structure and emotional resonance of iconic musical tracks—think “Rocky Racoon” reimagined as the tale of Donald Trump’s destructive path to the presidency, or Terry Jacks’ “Seasons in the Sun” transformed into a lament on Republican cowardice and lost democratic norms.

Through this fusion of pop nostalgia and political critique, the collection:

  • 🎶 Harnesses Familiar Rhythms: The song structures serve as scaffolding for verses that are both accessible and subversive, drawing readers in with rhythm before confronting them with truth.
  • 🔥 Excoriates Authoritarianism: Trump and MAGA are portrayed not just as political figures but as symbols of a broader erosion of truth, decency, and constitutional integrity.
  • 🕊️ Defends Democratic Ideals: The poems mourn the fragility of American institutions while fiercely advocating for civic engagement, accountability, and moral clarity.
  • 🎤 Amplifies Dissent: With a voice that is at once satirical and sincere, the book invites readers to sing along in protest, turning melody into a megaphone for resistance.

Whether riffing on “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window” to expose the sycophantic rot of the Trump administration or twisting “When I Saw Her Standing There!” into an elegy against oligarchs and authoritarianism, this book is a poetic rebellion—an artistic act of defiance that refuses to be silent in the face of democratic decay.

Most free thinkers, poets, and essayists are but a thorn in the side of the authoritarian regime that is running roughshod over America’s democracy. Writing and speaking truth to power sometimes feels like screaming into the void. But with critical mass and momentum, art can influence public sentiment and mobilize opposition to repressive policies and tactics, making it a powerful adversary to regimes that rely on propaganda and control.

Verbal resistance alone won’t revive our democracy. If we’re going to right the ship in America, we’re going to have to do more than sing and complain. We’re going to have to take to the streets and, as the honorable Georgia Congressman John Lewis famously said, “get in good trouble, necessary trouble” by the millions.

Get your copy of Imagine There’s No Donald on Amazon. Please feel free to share the link with others on your social media or simply by giving the book to a loved one as a gift.

Peace (and FUDT).


If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my first book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book on Amazon or elsewhere, I’d be honored.

My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-9/11 America.

I Want to Bomb Iran

Read to the cadence of “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” by The Beatles.

Oh, yeah, I’ll tell you somethin’
I think you’ll understand
When I say that somethin’
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran

Some, Jews, say to me
that I’m their kind of man
church pews are the key
to get the promised land
they want to bomb Iran
they want to bomb Iran

When Bibi hugs me
I feel happy inside
It’s such a feeling that I scream
genocide!
genocide!
genocide
!

Yeah, ole Bibi said to me
Let’s take the Gaza Strip
Trump casinos by the sea
I say we let her rip
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran

When Bibi hugs me
I feel happy inside
It’s such a feeling that I scream
genocide!
genocide!
genocide
!

Hamas has that somethin’
they’ve got a shitty brand
But I’ll say the dumb thing
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran
I want to bomb Iran