Minstrel D.

M.D. is a long time member of the D. Consortium yet she is also very new, I just resurrected her this June 2009 during my forced vacation.

Unfortunately she will have to go back into retirement for a while, or until she gets another bright idea.

I do intent to produce at least 12 new numbers for my first album, maybe not all new, but new to you for sure.

Here is my very first #1 hit!
I'm giving it it's own page.

Kill it after your thoroughly impressed!.

I will be adding links to new pieces as I add them to the web site.

They will be found all over the place, depending on their topics.

I studied music in high school, the trombone, and the guitar, I studied voice and piano for a while.
I play castanets with a rather unique flair. It's how I hold them that makes them crash very flamboyantly as I dance.
I'm also a card carrying member of CAPAC

It's been many years since I played the guitar,
and that means, that Dah is going to make me learn how to play it all over again, and I really don't want to.

I got it in my head that acapella was just fine, then I thought, why not add sound effects?

Why not make sound effects with my voice?


I will admit straight out that my skills as a sound engineer are sorely lacking in finesse,
but what I lack in skills I make up for in humor!

Always with tongue in cheek.


(I'll have to dig this picture out again and see if I can clean it up a little better.)
Update Jan 2012,
I did, this is the best that it will ever be unless my message to the photographer
who's name I will not type because I'm playing him for a free copy of the original in exchange for information.
No way he could guess who that is in the picture. Besides he did not ask for permission to take the photo.
I probably would never have seen it had not one of the other residence of The House of Gumba pointed it out.

This newspaper clipping is from January 1967 in Toronto's Yorkville at the height of the hippie movement.

There I was bare foot, wearing glasses to cover up my eye infection, playing my friend Jazz's guitar.

Standing next to me on the left is William Gibson. He had just arrived in Toronto that day and I took him home with me.
I'm really into stray cats, my latest if a political refugee from Canada,
okay we live in Canada but he still a political refugee looking for asylum in another country.
All because he won't let the bullies and criminals that run this country, take away his patents.

Clean renewable energy anyone?

My first realization that the dude in the picture was now a famous author, was when I caught an interview on Hard Copy.

I decided to write him a poem. This I sent off to his publisher.
He said on his message board, he probably read it and feels guilty about not replying.

It took years to track down Bill on the web, for the longest time he was so consumed with his writing that he had no time for his fans.

Not saying that I'm an uber fan of his work, but he kept dropping comments once I found his message board and watched the documentary,
"No Maps For These Territories," that he forced me to read between the lines. :P @ Bill

Recently I decided to dig that poem out of the stack.
It's so old that it was never on any of my many computers, I wrote it on a Panasonic word processor.
At least I remembered to print it out before I shipped it out in favor of my first pre pentium unit.

It's a large stack of poetry dating back to the 60's I found the print-out in the last book near the last page.
I almost got distracted several times, but I persisted, and decided it was definitely in need of a major re-write.

Without further yakity yak.

Coming soon one of the D. Consortium's music videos.
It's started at least.


Caught you on Hard Copy,

My eyes bulged at the TV.

Could this be the young man,

Who once played around with me?

No Maps caught me off guard

Perhaps it wasn't only me?

Those hippie chicks you mentioned.

Giving our love away so easily.

Never where you the lean bean of my dreams

But that southern drawl and be-spectacled face I see.

Has come back to haunt my revelry.


In the house of Gumba

Where the illicit drugs flowed free

You climbed the third floor stairs with me

To my room up in the trees.

The landlord and the Ex did jeer

Your Sci Fi passion they debunked

Well look who's laughing hardest now,

The “Noir Prophet of the Cyberpunks!"

If they realized how their mockery was weak

Of the homeless boy in the year that you met me

Together we could divvy up this revelry


I am of the un-loved

A private solitary soul,

Who counts the links on a lengthy chain

of the famous men I've known.

My heart does soar to add your name,

Amongst the conquest of my days.

It is just my way of saying

Congratulations, Hip Hip Hooray!

I'm so very pleased with your presents to succeed

Though our lives have diverged permanently.

Now I revel in my revelry.


At “the crossroads of paranoia

and technology,”

Is it futurism that made you great

Or inertia based insecurity?

Prophet, huckster, shyster

Your facets make me jolly.

The D. Consortium tips their hat.

Now say good bye to Molly.

Every thing that goes down make us who we would be

A brief encounter of two creative souls is all I see.

That's all that fuels this revelry

William, William Gibson the man of the near future frontiers.


MD's view on Pure Fiction.
A continuation of the Pure Fiction theme with MP3 file.


All of my work is not to be used without my permission.

I didn't ask to use his MP3 file, but there is no market value to divvy up.

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