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MTK The Writist

~ Homo sapiens digitalis

MTK The Writist

Monthly Archives: July 2026

Java Beach, a Friday, apropos of nothing

10 Friday Jul 2026

Posted by mtk in 2026, Commentary

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blog, coffeeshop, Francisco, Karthik, life, mtk, San, sf, writing

I woke early amidst a strange dream, shook myself of it, washed my face and shaved and walked down to the coffee shop.

Michelle. No Pete because it’s Friday, when he works at Lowe’s – “How Lowe can ya go?” he always says.

Michelle arrived to find the dishwasher broken, and so everybody else was getting a paper cup, but if I wanted a coffee mug, there were a couple of clean ones left. I accepted.

A couple of others trickled in, then the woman who lives upstairs from the coffeehouse and always comes down in her bathrobe to grab hers and go, arrived.

So I asked her and Michelle for a dream analysis. She proposed I ask ChatGPT. Nearly broke my heart in half. So, I mock-yelled out, “Oh I get it, no, I understand, no more human contact. Thought I’d come down to the coffee shop and get some perspectives on my dream, but we don’t do that anymore.”

Then we all discussed the idea that my dream was likely an internal expression of insecurity about what it is I am doing at this stage of my life. It was very early, but then suddenly four guys carrying crowbars, wearing neon yellow vests and sweatshirts announcing they were members of various steelworkers unions, arrived.

They were ordering coffee and when Michelle asked one of their member if he wanted room, he said no, he wanted his black, even though his mother told him drinking it black meant, “You will never find love.” Which was – wow.

I commented that seemed a little harsh, but that as a black coffee drinker for 30 years, he should respond to her, “That’s why I carry the mints.” Jeez, ma.

Meanwhile their colleague had noticed the pastries. “You don’t want no bread?” He asked the tall, younger man who had ordered coffee before him and stepped away. He pointed at the cabinet, “They got bread.” Michelle paused at the register to await his reply. The guy took a deep breath, swiveled back around and asked, “Is it vegan?”

It was 7:15 in the morning, place couldn’t have been quieter. Michelle literally initially laughed out loud. “What?” But then replied that no, the pastries weren’t vegan, but there was a hummus wrap that was. The guy responded that was too heavy and we all moved on. Three more steelworkers arrived. They were doing a demo/clean-up of material down the street.

But yeah, that was the story this morning, of the seven steelworkers – one a vegan and one who’ll never find love – as observed by an aging, insecure writist.

An Atheist Song

08 Wednesday Jul 2026

Posted by mtk in 2026, performance, S.F., SF Bay, SFG Off Day Posts

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atheism, atheist, song

The Oppression of the American Narrative, a Cage Made of Jingo

01 Wednesday Jul 2026

Posted by mtk in 2026, beliefs, Commentary

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250th, birthday, usa

Decades of my mid-life were swallowed by the great American fiction. I could do nothing meaningful in it. The best I could hope for was working for the least compromised insiders I could find.

I gave what I had: my voice, my words, some small amount of muscle and legwork.

Mostly I supported other Americans. My name’s not on much of it. Yet evidence of our efforts exist as more than memory, despite the way the USA has changed. “Vast contributions never disclosed.”

Everything I write, say and do is governed by an oath I took when I was 14, a minor, instructed to do so by my mother, who sought to divorce my father. This was how I became an American, twelve years after my parents brought me here from India when I was two.

To this moment, I have felt utterly manipulated by indoctrination through the socio-political behavior of every American educational institution I attended, and every American I ever met, befriended or loved.

I cordoned off sections of who I am and behaved as asked by Americans to go to school, to have relationships. To find work. To find places to live. To participate in a society that considers me separate and apart from it, at best – and at worst, a terrorist.

And they have always treated me as if I demand correcting.

Americans have spent four decades telling me how and what to think. Some of it is useful. But my thoughts and beliefs have always been separate and distinct from the vast majority of theirs. I know all men are not created equal.

They condescend to me and treat me “less than” as an immigrant, first and most. It has always felt as if I am just being allowed to exist, and merely tolerated. Being told what they will call me. Being told how to be.

I tell people I am a pet in a zoo. Or that my life was like a Truman Show before the movie ever came out or the book was ever written.

I have been an American for 46 years and the entirety of US American society is oppressive to me. Or racist against me, my name and culture. Or isolating.

The lies are believed so broadly by coalitions of pseudo-social entities: religions, corporations and the military, that defining what an American is or isn’t is in my face all the fucking time. Fuck you.

I am totally alone because you isolate me for being a free thinker. You isolate me for not going on the ride of your pop culture or sportstainment. “It’s how we talk American.”

It’s how we begrudgingly let Guantanamo happen or a 20-year failed, illegal war in Afghanistan and Iraq, or Iran, now. Were any of these any less illegal than Russia in the Ukraine?

Decades of lies and obfuscation in the wake of the terrorist attacks of 2001 – a military intelligence failure that remains insufficiently explained – has created legions of disinformed loyalists to absurd fictions and positions of state. Democrats and Republicans, deluded both … programmed.

So much 100% bullshit spouted by indoctrinated ignoramuses all around me on the 250th birthday of the USA.

sad. sickening. disgusting.

STFU and LEAVE ME ALONE, MONOGLOT!

M.T. Karthik

Unknown's avatar

This blog archives early work of M.T. Karthik, who took every photograph and shot all the video here unless otherwise credited.

Performances and installations are posted by date of execution.

Writing appears in whatever form it was originally or, as in the case of poems or journal entries, retyped faithfully from print.

all of it is © M.T. Karthik

a minute of rain

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYLHNRS8ik4

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