The Opinuary Column

The Opinion Global Warming is a sham, a vast conspiracy promulgated by scientists who want to jerk with just about everybody who is trying to make a buck, but Abrahaminic religions are sacrosanct and worthy of the unyielding devotion of billions of humanoids has died a profoundly messy, feverish and tidal-surging death of epic proportions. It is commonly known that the Bronze Age metaphysical assertions that God = the ineffable source, Man ≠ God, and that God is separate from Nature makes most of the family bored out of their fucking skulls by the time their third can of PBR cascades down to the bottom of their throat-canal. This tiresome subject is the dud in the 4th of July Family Pack, and should be disposed of by a FOX News intern.

Family of the Opinion believe that talking about religion is taboo not merely because feelings will be hurt but because the nature of such discussions usually deposit one into a vague and gauzy land of indistinct and non-quantifiable assertions, and unless you yell something threatening like "Jesus will cut your dick off" to the commie queer across the street it really is a rather tired and perfunctory exercise--though yelling at strangers will at least increase your heart rate. One's core belief in a bellicose Jewish deity who mates with a teenager to create a savior who will stave off his father's desire to burn your ass for eternity for the crime of having been created is dubious only to those who have not ceased to incorporate oxygen into their lungs, where said oxygen can then be distributed throughout the body via the vascular system and ultimately keep the brain from turning into a gravied plate of Zombie Loaf.

The Opinion's strength was also its weakness, as it consisted of making material assertions about a supernatural deity while ignoring measurable, peer-reviewed data about climate change, a great one-two punch of daffy cognitive dissonance at its most punchable. Were this an honest nation the Dropping Jaw Catcher 6000 would be the best selling facial recovery sling on the market, and by golly, everybody with a prehensile thumb that is not on prostate patrol knows it.

The Opinion, which has combined conspiratorial fear with infantile gullibility for nigh on three decades, will be cremated in the Fires of Satan Brothers Crematory (Bring the Kids!), after which its ashes are to be scattered over Christian Polar Bears as they drown in the waters of The Great White North. The Family of the Opinion has no idea this column even exists, so you probably don't even have to buy flowers. If you feel guilty send me a check and I will pretend to pray for you.

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The Opinuary Column appears Friday afternoons at Jesus' General.

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Random Acts of Presumed Madness

Last Sunday I drove down to Salem(OR) and hooked up with my friend Barry. We took digital shots of the Oregon State Hospital (known as the Oregon State Insane Asylum back at its inception in 1883). Knowing that demolition was taking place we went to document what we could: Barry informed me later that much of the facility that was set to be torn down had already been torn down. Judging from this image I would readily agree: though the cupola above the main building is still there most of the building to our right of the frame is gone.

Anyway, below are some fairly random shots taken on a clear, beautiful day in Salem, Oregon...


Exterior of Oregon State Hospital, looking south from Center Street


Enough crosses to give Jesus the willies


Shadows having fun


The links of chain curve back again...


I feel a chill coming on


Mural, mural on the wall, who will listen to your call?


I played with the contrast/exposure and
ended up with a kind of Bat Building effect


We headed over to the waterfront for
asphalt-combing in the old Boise Cascade lot...


Golden Tales of Summer's Promise

We talked to a gentleman working security for the state hospital, who emphasized that we could take pictures as long as we did not take any images of the patients. I did take one image of the basketball court that was famously used in Milos Forman's film version of Ken Kesey's novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest--the court presented itself as a rather no-nonsense nightmare of wire and despair. I didn't want to upset any of the security team so one quick image was all I managed. A friend of mine was in the film (the entirely deceased Phil Roth) and so I present this image in his honor!



Barry has posted more images from last Sunday at his photography blog.

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One last thought: The Shining meets One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest



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Earth Being Held on 24 Hour Suicide Watch

Authorities claim that this is a routine precaution, but I'm not buying it.

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To Kentucky I Will Roam

i went to the railroad tracks
the place where they bend
the train, she's a steamer
all the way to the end

got my little sticks of dynamite
got my fuses in a row
by this time tomorrow, baby
i'll be down the road

nobody loves a bad man
'cept his mom i suppose
when they bring the noose down
it's the last friend i'll know

kentucky
kentucky
the green, green hills of home
when i hear that lonesome train
to kentucky i will roam

saw a bank down by the border
as weak as a baby bird
ain't no fun killing little ones
it's the big ones i prefer

there's always another score
there's always a mark
set you up in a real big way
come and see me after dark

nobody loves a bad man
'cept his mom i suppose
when they bring the noose down
it's the last friend i'll know

kentucky
kentucky
the green, green hills of home
when i hear that lonesome train
to kentucky i will roam

stayed awake all weekend
smoked the secrets of hell
stick around and have a taste
watch how satan fell

i'm rough around the edges
i'm shot up through and through
i've got to hide in the afterlife
bury me with my shoes

nobody loves a bad man
'cept his mom i suppose
when they bring the noose down
it's the last friend i'll know

kentucky
kentucky
the green, green hills of home
when i hear that lonesome train
to kentucky i will roam

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The Opinuary Column

The Opinion

You can live forever and ever
In Neverland
Nothing will ever harm you
No one will raise a hand
A magical place that can't be erased
No, no it can't
You can live forever and ever
In Neverland

has died of cardiac arrest at the age of fifty. The Opinion is survived by everyone who has ever wanted to turn their back on the insistent call of time and stay a child forever and ever, an ill-advised and impossible feat if ever there was one.

Our thoughts and prayers are with the Opinion's family and friends, many of whom will surely act as pallbearers, and truly many of them are known to us: Puff the Magic Dragon, Winnie the Pooh & the rest of the Hundred Acre Wood Gang, the Velveteen Rabbit, Mother Goose, Rat & Mole & Badger & Toad & The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Peter Pan and Tinkerbell and Company, The Little Prince, Pinocchio & Geppetto & Jiminy Cricket & The Blue Fairy, Goodnight Moon, The Red Balloon, Snow White, Cinderella, The Little Engine That Could, Peter Piper, Chicken Little, The Snow Queen, The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling, The Emperor's New Clothes, The Princess and the Pea, Thumbelina, The Wizard of Oz, Fernando the Bull, Babar, Dumbo, Bilbo Baggins, Gulliver (who asked that he not be listed for he is a Very Grown Up Man), The Cat in the Hat, Alice in Wonderland, Willy Wonka, Br'er Rabbit--the list just goes on and on. Perhaps Neverland is a place that you best carry inside your imagination and not try to actually live in: like many things in life, a day could come when it will surely break your heart.

In lieu of flowers many of the characters listed above suggested you construct a ladder out of moonbeams and climb up to the stars, whispering nonsense and nursery rhymes to the Northern Lights, or better yet wade into the harbor, and tie together all the boats! But beware the Castles of Childhood should they beckon for too long, for they can be turned into prisons!



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The Opinuary Column appears Friday afternoons at Jesus' General.

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30 Miles South

My wonderful sister Diana plays guitar and writes songs and sings and even posts her work on YouTube and, well, the girl can't help it. So, we're talking to each other tonight on our cell phones, and we're agreeing that anything can trigger a set of lyrics or a poem, and she said she asked her son #2 what he was doing and he answered that he was going somewhere "30 miles south." So now she and I have a little lyric writing contest to attend to.

And away we go...

30 MILES SOUTH
(this one is for Diana & Julian)

i woke up on the interstate
didn't make it home
didn't die and that's okay
another day to roam

i left my car in the parking lot
about two years ago
they must've towed it away by now
but i just don't know
i just don't know

my feet really fucking hurt
and my eyes keep falling out
i left my girl back in huntington
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south

the ocean is an acid wash
it burns off the pain
dive right into the magic glass
just like alice insane

ah, fuck it, i'm out of here
my words, my mouth
don't need no broken church
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south

(bridge)
no, no, no, it wasn't like that
we danced and swayed on the shore
happy little island junkies laughing here
all killed in the war
no, no, no, it wasn't like that
everybody having fun
everybody ride a big white horse
we're all carrying guns
we're all carrying guns

ah, fuck it, i'm out of here
my words, my mouth
you're going to a broken church
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south

i woke up on the interstate
didn't make it home
didn't die and that's okay
another day to roam

i left my car in the parking lot
about two years ago
they must've towed it away by now
but i just don't know
i just don't know

my feet really fucking hurt
and my eyes keep falling out
i left my girl back in huntington
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south
i'm going 30 miles south

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Don't Demand Representative Government!

Don't ask questions about your religion, your food, your rights, your bad habit of voting against your economic interests! Don't ask why a woman shouldn't have sovereignty over her own body! Don't ask why being patriotic means we must continue to pollute the air, the water and our bodies! Don't ask why the interstate highways, police, fire and the military are all "socialized!" Don't ask why a fat, drug-addled draft-dodger makes millions of dollars while telling you to be angry and ready to explode! Don't trust anyone, anywhere, at any time, for you will be sorry you did! Don't ask why killing brown people in other countries will make you safe! Don't see the Other as you would see yourself! Don't let other people have equal rights! Don't think beyond the Bling! Don't listen to the beat of a different drummer: listen to the one who bangs really, really hard and makes you want to kill! Don't organize, except to chase away people who are brown and thirsty! Don't run for the border! Don't respect others! Don't show compassion and mercy--we are at war with compassion and mercy! Don't go to a National Park without your guns! Don't do too much meth or you won't get to work on Monday! Don't mistake diplomacy for murder! Don't eat the children at the first sign of trouble! Don't ever, ever think of the words "context" or "metaphor." Don't ever trust yourself, except enough to know that you should only trust me! Don't ever, ever feel empathy--I mean it! Don't do any of it! Don't! Don't! Don't!

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Paid for by the Committee to Keep You Poor & Pissed Off...

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Congress Puts Finishing Touches on Healthcare Reform

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Neda, Don't Be Afraid

"Neda, don't be afraid. Neda, don't be afraid. (There is yelling and screaming.) Neda, stay with me. Neda stay with me!"

via Huffington Post.

In Iran, a young woman named Neda was shot through the heart as she stood in the street. There is graphic video of her just after being shot, wherein her life ends rapidly as blood escapes her body. The words at the top of this post (translated) are cried out by her father in the moments after she has been mortally wounded. One among many who have died in this conflict, she is now a martyr. In the United States, we don't have martyrs--I think we gave them up.

I dedicate these lyrics to Neda.

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Neda, Don't Be Afraid

hold my hand
stay with me
hold my hand
stay with me
neda
neda

don't be afraid
stay with me
don't be afraid
stay with me
neda
neda

we are all the children of god
we are all the heart of this life
we are all a miracle
we are all the end of a dream

i love you
my daughter
i love you
my daughter
neda
neda

take my heart
and live forever
take my heart
and live forever
neda
neda
neda
neda
neda
neda

we are all the children of god
we are all the heart of this life
we are all a miracle
we are all the end of a dream

hold my hand
stay with me
hold my hand
stay with me
neda
neda

don't be afraid
stay with me
don't be afraid
stay with me
neda
neda
neda
neda

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UPDATE: More about Neda and the events surrounding her death at CNN and at Crooks & Liars. This story is all over the Internet.

A further UPDATE--people still matter:



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Revenge of the Gray

i saw a god fall on high
he was screaming in the sky
he was such a little guy
he dazed me

i saw the turning man run
with crayons and a gun
said that he had a plan
to save me

dreams made the younger man cry
the birds could no longer fly
we wandered on the land
for days it seemed

be bop the god drop gotta drop it do it
doo wop the cop stop nothing for to do it
dance in the light of day
until it goes away
revenge of the gray
be bop the god drop gotta drop it do it
doo wop the cop stop nothing for to do it
who's gonna stop you
revenge of the gray

you took the letter away
and told me i should pay
for the thousand stupid things
that haunt me

lost all my colors in rain
let the ocean have all my pain
let the rivers die in the spring
who wants me

be bop the god drop gotta drop it do it
doo wop the cop stop nothing for to do it
dance in the light of day
until it goes away
revenge of the gray
be bop the god drop gotta drop it do it
doo wop the cop stop nothing for to do it
who's gonna stop you
revenge of the gray

the turning man went on the run
his crayons burned in the sun
nothing is ever quite done
and she liked it

the story had a twist of fate
just to make everybody else wait
then they put a tattoo on god
and she liked it

oh, oh
revenge of the gray

fire and children and timber and rocks
drunkards and dragons live on our block
jesus lost his alibi
in the river of time

be bop the god drop gotta drop it do it
doo wop the cop stop nothing for to do it
dance in the light of day
until it goes away
revenge of the gray
be bop the god drop gotta drop it do it
doo wop the cop stop nothing for to do it
who's gonna stop you
revenge of the gray

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