Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Saturday, July 30, 2005

NEOCON FURNITURE

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ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
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ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL

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Friday, July 29, 2005

BLIND SPOT

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In a life of living some things get shoved aside
A man can hold in just so much, enough to stay alive
For me it's when I'm changing lanes these issues do erupt
I have to crane my neck a bit and pretend I am grownup

Disappointments, failures, never-weres, never should-have-beens
Unreturned phone calls, change of addresses, change of sin
Gravity is lethal, it keeps bringing us all down
Silence is impossible, then again so is sound

(chorus)
Hey buddy, check your blind spot
Hey driver, there's a whole lot
Of troubles that are hiding there
Best to check them while you can or give it up

It's been said that the subconscious is just like a well
You can put stuff in it but one day it will surely fill
It won't tell you when it's full, not directly like the news
When it starts to tell you is when you start to feel the blues

If you are a person who thinks and feels and laughs
If you are the kind who throws away the map
If you love to live but forget quite how it's done
Listen to your insides and sing and cry and run

(chorus)
Hey buddy, check your blind spot
Hey driver, there's a whole lot
Of troubles that are hiding there
Best to check them while you can or give it up

I love the people that I meet and those I have not yet
I'm kind of in a hurry to collect all my regrets
I've tried to fit in somewhere time and time again
I'm driving to the future but the past keeps butting in

And so I will go driving, looking straight ahead
As the world rushes up, a river of pavement
But I know that to my right and left, just beyond my view
Are objects in the mirror, too many to undo
Yes, objects in the mirror, too many to undo

(chorus)
Hey buddy, check your blind spot
Hey driver, there's a whole lot
Of troubles that are hiding there
Best to check them while you can or give it up

In a life of living some things get shoved aside
A man can hold in just so much, enough to stay alive
For me it's when I'm changing lanes these issues do erupt
I have to crane my neck a bit and pretend I am grownup

Disappointments, failures, never-weres, never should-have-beens
Unreturned phone calls, change of addresses, change of sin
Gravity is lethal, it keeps bringing us all down
Silence is impossible, then again so is sound

(chorus)
Hey buddy, check your blind spot
Hey driver, there's a whole lot
Of troubles that are hiding there
Best to check them while you can or give it up

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ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.

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MOVEON SLOGAN CONTEST FOR PIG FUCKER

Here is a link to Moveon.org's campaign to choose a pithy and precise phrase to slap next to the callow and amoral puppetmaster on posters, prison stationary, whatever.

Next Tuesday is my own Unofficial KARL ROVE IS A TREASONOUS BETRAYER OF AMERICA DAY--I have contacted other blogs to see if there was interest on this tactic. Very few responses so far, but those were from the greatest people the earth has ever known, so that's pretty cool (you know who you are). The idea for this was inspired by this Buzzflash article.

It goes like this: borrowing a page from The Hollow Man himself, I have decided that repetition is all that matters, so look for KARL ROVE IS A TREASONOUS BETRAYER OF AMERICA DAY sentences to pop up just about everywhere I manage to pop up, well most places anyway. As in my previous post, repetition is key. Add any words or phrases that peel your banana or spoon your mango, but consider joining this nascent and wholly Lemonade Stand style of posting campaign. Tell your grocery clerk that KARL ROVE IS A TREASONOUS BETRAYER OF AMERICA. Tell the good folks down at the Post Office, or your bartender, perhaps the King of Sweden: just tell people, and then tell them again.

FREE SLOGAN: Just copy and paste the below words and keep them for future reference or guerilla posting.

ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
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ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.

Have a nice weekend!

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Thursday, July 28, 2005

I CAN'T HEAR YOU!

ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
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ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.
ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL. ROVE. TREASON. BETRAYAL.

Any questions?

(idea for this post came from Buzzflash here.

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Wednesday, July 27, 2005

AH, WELL THEN, GO AHEAD, IF YOU MUST

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Mostly I write lyrics these days, lyrics to songs that (mostly) will never be sung, and I'll be damned if I can remember half of them. Over a year ago my computer crashed like gravity on casual Friday, and I must have lost over a hundred songs. A few of them I found on the archives of blogs I visited, but the rest are like dead people at a city council meeting.

Anyway, for a time I will simply write poems, and with any luck, I will lose all of them before god gets all pissy on us.


PEZ POEM

if I looked upwards all day long
at work, at the store, walking to the store, walking back from the store
my neck would be like a pez dispenser stuck in the open position
and children would run after me
waiting for bricks of candy to tumble out of my neck
and land on the sidewalk
and mothers would slap their children's hands
and my neck candy would fall to the ground
a second time


SORRY MRS. CHANG, BUT ALONE YOU MUST STAY

Mrs. Chang looks out the window
at a dream she once had
but now the neighbor's are cooking it
Mrs. Chang cannot call them by name
and so sits quietly, trying to conjure that man
who used to walk in the alley
in the other days when she was alone

she wanted to ask him a question
or maybe just see what he was wearing
but it was often too dark
and he never lingered
so she felt like she was just missing him
by a few seconds, by a few heartbeats

finally, he stopped, just once
and kneeled down and pet her
she bit his hand



THE WAR SMELLS LIKE CAT URINE AND BLEACH

the cat pissed on my rope sandals
i tried to clean them with soap and bleach
but now they smell like cat urine mixed with bleach

this cat piss war will never end
and my sandals will never surrender



THEY DON'T LOVE GOD OR HIS FAVORITE SUIT

get this into your head:
when someone says they love god
what they mean is they love their version of god:
their version of the uncreated
which isn't really their version so much as it
was someone else’s version a long time ago

i can't pretend to know or love the older gods
but i can imagine a nice suit being taken up to heaven
and the believer left in a heap, naked in the street
the rapture be damned


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COMPLAINERS

Image hosted by Photobucket.com


You’ve seen them in the coffee shops
You’ve heard them on the news
You’ve read them going on and on
You wish they’d take up booze

You know them when you see them
They have nothing nice to say
All they do is complain and complain
They never go away

Everything’s a tragedy
Everything’s a curse
Everything’s not getting better
Everything is getting worse
Complainers!
Complainers!
All you do is bitch and moan
Complainers!
Complainers!
I paid for this microphone

Take away contraception
Take the women’s right to vote
Let’s poke a thousand holes
In this democratic boat

Let’s drill in North Alaska
Let’s strip mine in the west
Let’s put Jesus on the dollar
Shut up, we know what’s best

Everything’s a tragedy
Everything’s a curse
Everything’s not getting better
Everything is getting worse
Complainers!
Complainers!
All you do is bitch and moan
Complainers!
Complainers!
I paid for this microphone

I made a billion in oil
Made another ton in gas
I cut a couple corners
Who wants to be last?

We killed a hundred thousand
In a land far, far away
If we hadn’t killed them
They’d be complaining here today

Everything’s a tragedy
Everything’s a curse
Everything’s not getting better
Everything is getting worse
Complainers!
Complainers!
All you do is bitch and moan
Complainers!
Complainers!
I paid for this microphone

We have a plan for us
For all the brave and the true
We’ll make a lot of money, friend
It’s what we like to do

We’ll take America
Into the great beyond
Armageddon, brothers
Armageddon is on!

Everything’s a tragedy
Everything’s a curse
Everything’s not getting better
Everything is getting worse
Complainers!
Complainers!
All you do is bitch and moan
Complainers!
Complainers!
I paid for this microphone

You’ve seen them in the coffee shops
You’ve heard them on the news
You’ve read them going on and on
You wish they’d take up booze

You know them when you see them
They have nothing nice to say
All they do is complain and complain
They never go away

+++

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

I HAVE HAD IT WITH SOUTHERN TWANG*

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I had C-SPAN 2 on the TV today
Listening to crackers all crack away
Talkin’ about some complicated immigration bill
I wish they’d shut the fuck up and go take a pill

One fella from Alabama, and two from Tennessee
Another from Texas, the land of stupidity
Before you get your panties tied up in a bunch
Try and lose that accent before I lose my lunch

(chorus)
I have had it
With southern twang
It has lost its charm
And lost its bang
So if these crackers
Would take a class
They would stop getting on my nerves
And giving me gas

The last great accent from the white man’s south
Belonged to Shelby Foote, from Shelby’s mouth
But for the rest of you, I’m here to say
You sound like ignorant motherfuckers in every way

Now, just for fairness sake, and fairness fun
Let’s have a day wherein everyone
Talks like a southern fool with a southern accent
Get yourself to hollerin’, then go get bent

(chorus)
I have had it
With southern twang
It has lost its charm
And lost its bang
So if these crackers
Would take a class
They would stop getting on my nerves
And giving me gas

Don’t take it personal, that would be wrong
These are just lyrics to a lyrical song
Just run along, now, and go and get
Yourself an accent that ain’t so thick

Perhaps Canadian, Mandarin or Greek
A bit of the British, upper class or cockneek
You might consider Australian, mate
Because the accent you have now is starting to grate

(chorus)
I have had it
With southern twang
It has lost its charm
And lost its bang
So if these crackers
Would take a class
They would stop getting on my nerves
And giving me gas

I had C-SPAN 2 on the TV today
Listening to crackers all crack away
Talkin’ about some complicated immigration bill
I wish they’d shut the fuck up and go take a pill

One fella from Alabama, and two from Tennessee
Another from Texas, the land of stupidity
Before you get your panties tied up in a bunch
Try and lose that accent before I lose my lunch

(chorus)
I have had it
With southern twang
It has lost its charm
And lost its bang
So if these crackers
Would take a class
They would stop getting on my nerves
And giving me gas

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+++

*This post is just plain mean but in no way, shape or form is meant to denigrate the spry and colorful idiomatic speech patterns of those raised in the southern United States, or in Bakersfield, for that matter. And please do not tell Anttichrist S. Coulter how or where to find me.

+++

FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY!

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So I click on CNN and what do I find?

4 Boy Scout leaders electrocuted | Watch

Um...uh...this isn't about my being a heartless smartass, this is about imprecision in language and informal fallacies.

CNN? Anybody home?

+++

Monday, July 25, 2005

TWELVE LITTLE HOURS*

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Twelve is Satan's number
Found in astrology
For to point to pagans
And pagan idolatry
You know they were all dancing
With scouts and weebelos
Evil pagan dancing
Having taken off their clothes

Twelve little hours
To do their devil dance
To conjure lunar babies
And sniff Ron Hubbard's pants
Leo Strauss was Ouijied
Nixon live from the River Styxx
Twelve little hours
Twelve hundred doggie dicks

(sing out!)
Attention all you Born Agains
Attention all you Saints
You're dancing around May Poles
Bearing the mark of Cain
You threw your lot with Bush and Friends
But their masks are falling off
You thought that they loved Jesus
Guess what: they love Him not

Deep inside the White House
The candles burning bright
Holding hands and praying
Stay away from the white light
Twelve precious hours
For Satan to have fun
Destroying all the evidence
Of the damage they have done

They have taken our soldiers
And spilled their blood and lives
They dance around the altar
And bleed the sacrifice
Listen up dear mothers
Listen up dear dad
You thought that Bush would save us all
Boy, have you been had

(sing out!)
Attention all you Born Agains
Attention all you Saints
You're dancing around May Poles
Bearing the mark of Cain
You threw your lot with Bush and Friends
But their masks are falling off
You thought that they loved Jesus
Guess what: they love Him not

How do the followers of Jesus
Their loving skills to hone
Cast their eyes to look about
Then cast a wicked stone
Who will take them by the hand
And show the awful truth?
Bush might invoke Abe Lincoln
He's more like John Wilkes Boothe

Twelve are the hours
Numbered on my clock
They represent half the day
A dozen's all you got
If you're in the White House
Enough time to clean it up
Twelve hours to wipe the blood
From all the loving cups

(sing out!)
Attention all you Born Agains
Attention all you Saints
You're dancing around May Poles
Bearing the mark of Cain
You threw your lot with Bush and Friends
But their masks are falling off
You thought that they loved Jesus
Guess what: they love Him not

Twelve is Satan's number
Found in astrology
For to point to pagans
And pagan idolatry
You know they were all dancing
With scouts and weebelos
Evil pagan dancing
Having taken off their clothes

Twelve little hours
To do their devil dance
To conjure lunar babies
And sniff Ron Hubbard's pants
Leo Strauss was Ouijied
Nixon live from the River Styxx
Twelve little hours
Twelve hundred doggie dicks

(sing out!)
Attention all you Born Agains
Attention all you Saints
You're dancing around May Poles
Bearing the mark of Cain
You threw your lot with Bush and Friends
But their masks are falling off
You thought that they loved Jesus
Guess what: they love him not

+++

*This song was inspired by General JC Christian's post on Monday, July 25th, 2005 (titled "Twelve hours at the White House"--sorry, haven't learned the target thingie yet). These lyrics were originally posted there.

+++

Sunday, July 24, 2005

BORN WITHOUT A MOTHER

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born without a mother
no one to hold them close
five hundred years of labor
born just like a ghost

conceived inside a kidnap
born in ships at sea
who chose to be a slave
who chose this legacy

I come to you in darkness
Without a map to see
I come to you, America
I come to you and bleed

We weren’t born of the land
Not this land, not this place
We were born of slavery
We had lost the race
We had lost the race
They sang to us of Jesus
And of the master's grace

they had danced as brothers
they hunted and they fought
they had touched the night sky
they had loved and they had lost

but soon a way of living
was held captive by a gun
packed them in like cans of meat
sent off to the setting sun

how can something bad be fixed
five hundred years away
how can a crime burned into your eyes
ever be unmade

We weren’t born of the land
Not this land, not this place
We were born of slavery
We had lost the race
We had lost the race
They sang to us of Jesus
And of the master's grace

listen, little child
please listen if you can
you are a kind of pilgrim
upon a rock you stand

some things are far too broken
the neigborhood is ripped
some folks stuck inside their freedom
still slaves to master’s whip

the ancestors are living
inside the the great world tree
dreaming songs of Africa
dreaming they are free

We weren’t born of the land
Not this land, not this place
We were born of slavery
We had lost the race
We had lost the race
They sang to us of Jesus
And of the master's grace

born without a mother
no one to hold them close
five hundred years of labor
born just like a ghost

conceived inside a kidnap
born in ships at sea
who chose to be a slave
who chose this legacy

I come to you in darkness
Without a map to see
I come to you, America
I come to you and bleed

We weren’t born of the land
Not this land, not this place
We were born of slavery
We had lost the race
We had lost the race
It was the master’s whip
That put us in our place

+++

Saturday, July 23, 2005

GOD SHED YOUR TEARS ON THEE

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Let me tell you a little story about a place I know
Where the future once beckoned and the sky did glow
Where the thunder and the lightning became the rain
Where the laughter and the cheering drowned out the pain
The pain of being alive

It is America, it is America
A peace loving nation that is always at war
America, oh, America
God shed your tears on thee
Some of us just couldn’t see
God shed your tears on thee

The world beat a path to our front door, we came by boat and plane
We came with the wind and the tide, we jumped right onto that train
We weren’t perfect, we were self-possessed, a little hard headed, a little righteous
It took a war between the states to end slavery, it took more than a Judas kiss
To do the right thing

It is America, it is America
A peace loving nation that is always at war
America, oh, America
God shed your tears on thee
Some of us just couldn’t see
God shed your tears on thee

We have come to a critical stage, where god and love start to equal rage
Some are praying for the end, why read a book when you can burn a page?
But I will say until my dying day: this is the place where the music plays
Where the band is the people and the people all dance and the people all sway
Don't ever let them stop the dance

It is America, it is America
A peace loving nation that is always at war
America, oh, America
God shed your tears on thee
Some of us just couldn’t see
God shed your tears on thee

Let me tell you a little story about a place I know
Where the future once beckoned and the sky did glow
Where the thunder and the lightning became the rain
Where the laughter and the cheering drowned out the pain
The pain of being alive

It is America, it is America
A peace loving nation that is always at war
America, oh, America
God shed your tears on thee
Some of us just couldn’t see
God shed your tears on thee

+++

Friday, July 22, 2005

africa

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last night my dinner plate
grew a pair of wings
flew on out the window
in the manner of the kings

up into the heavens
across the wine dark sea
and landed in a village
and sat there quietly

little children gathered
pondering the meal
then they shared the bounty
ask me how I feel
ask me how I feel
why are some things fantasy
and why are some things real?

last night my soul departed
but only for awhile
it said it had to find out
why the heart is such a trial

it reached out like an angel
a song of hope and grace
when the poetry is over
it is time that we all face

little children gathered
pondering the meal
then they shared the bounty
ask me how I feel
ask me how I feel
why are some things fantasy
and why are some things real?

last night I felt the water
saw the ocean on the moon
people strolled and laughed there
and whistled a happy tune

the price of knowing nothing
is paid by strangers far away
and dreams dissolve in stardust
and night becomes the day

little children gathered
pondering the meal
then they shared the bounty
ask me how I feel
ask me how I feel
why are some things fantasy
and why are some things real?

last night my dinner plate
grew a pair of wings
flew on out the window
in the manner of the kings

up into the heavens
across the wine dark sea
and landed in a village
and sat there quietly

little children gathered
pondering the meal
then they shared the bounty
ask me how I feel
ask me how I feel
why are some things fantasy
and why are some things real?

+++

SAVE AMERICA BLUES

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Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
Tried to save America
Oh, Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
Tried to save America

Just like Colonel Kurtz
Tried to save Cambodia

Fox is in the henhouse
Fixin' to make hisself a stew
Yeah, fox is in the henhouse
Fixin' to make hisself a stew

It's four parts chickenhawk
One part "how do you do?"

(chorus)
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Oh, Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Got ourselves a plug nickel
To drop a dime on every clown
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
If you are an agent
You best get on out of town

Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
Loyal to a fault
Ooh, Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
They are loyal to a fault

They safeguard the Constitution
Got it locked up in a vault

Heard them early in the morning
Rootin' around in my trash can
Yeah, I heard them early in the morning
Rootin' around in my trash can

When you ain't got no ethics
You got to get them where you can

(chorus)
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Oh, Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Got ourselves a plug nickel
To drop a dime on every clown
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
If you are an agent
You best get on out of town

Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
Tried to save America
Oh, Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
Tried to save America

Just like Colonel Kurtz
Tried to save Cambodia

Fox is in the henhouse
Fixin' to make hisself a stew
Yeah, fox is in the henhouse
Fixin' to make hisself a stew

It's four parts chickenhawk
One part how do you do?

(chorus)
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Oh, Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Got ourselves a plug nickel
To drop a dime on every clown
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
If you are an agent
You best get on out of town

Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
Loyal to a fault
Ooh, Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby
They are loyal to a fault

They safeguard the Constitution
Got it locked up in a vault

Heard them early in the morning
Rootin' around in my trash can
Yeah, I heard them early in the morning
Rootin' around in my trash can

When you ain't got no ethics
You got to get them where you can

(chorus)
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Oh, Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
Got ourselves a plug nickel
To drop a dime on every clown
Freedom! Freedom!
The law holdin' us down!
If you are an agent
You best get on out of town

+++

Gee, wonder why the jivester wrote a blues song today?

Last night a good and bluesy friend of mine took me to the Santa Monica Pier where we listened to a free outdoor concert: The Chicago Blues Reunion. They are playing tonight (July 22nd) at Amoeba Records in Hollywood (7:00?), also a free concert. The band has a a freight train of blues cred and a new CD and DVD out, so if you like the blues (and can get somebody to bring the volume down a little) check them out! Barry Goldberg on keyboards was a blast, Corky Siegel plays a pathological harp, Harvey Mandel went "out there" on lead guitar. Nick "The Greek" Gravenites was the excellent elder statesman, and Sam Lay was the most excellent elder Hoochie Coochie Man: see these guys before Father Time yanks their chains too hard! (Don't let me forget Rick Reed on bass, Tracy Nelson "The Epiglottis Goddess", Gary Mallaber, Zach Wagner et al).

Go on now. Git!

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+++

Thursday, July 21, 2005

IS THE SUN A LIBERAL?

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It gives us light for free
It sheds its rays on trees
It warms the days, you see
Is the sun a liberal?

Among the stars, elite
The paparazzi seek
To sneak a peek
Is the sun a liberal?

(chorus)
Goddamn solar commie!
Goddamn solar socialist!
The market will collapse
With this freedom loving shit!
It's time that we questioned
Just why it shines and shines
If it was god-fearing
It would charge us for its time

I heard it hangs out over Cuba
I heard it hides behind the rain
I heard it likes the desert
Was friends with old Hussein

A fire burning in the sky
A threat to all mankind
Just another foolish hippy
Who has lost all of his mind

(chorus)
Goddamn solar commie!
Goddamn solar socialist!
The market will collapse
With this freedom loving shit!
It's time that we questioned
Just why it shines and shines
If it was god-fearing
It would charge us for its time

Yeah, it's time this liberal came down
It's time this liberal fades
We'll be safe from attack
Just by pulling down the shades

And when the winter follows
And the earth is cold as ice
I will blame that golden orange
When we all pay the price

(chorus)
Goddamn solar commie!
Goddamn solar socialist!
The market will collapse
With this freedom loving shit!
It's time that we questioned
Just why it shines and shines
If it was god-fearing
It would charge us for its time

It gives us light for free
It sheds its rays on trees
It warms the days, you see
Is the sun a liberal?

Among the stars, elite
The paparazzi seek
To sneak a peek
Is the sun a liberal?

(chorus)
Goddamn solar commie!
Goddamn solar socialist!
The market will collapse
With this freedom loving shit!
It's time that we questioned
Just why it shines and shines
If it was god-fearing
It would charge us for its time

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Sun diagram and image of actual sun are from the good folks at NASA

+++

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

IT'S A PRETTY SWEET RIDE

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Rainbow pop on a sunny day
Cool grass, sitting in the shade
Think I’ll lay down for awhile
You gave me love, you gave me a smile

Went for a drive in Griffith Park
Life’s so easy when you don’t bark
Children laughing as they ride
It’s pretty sweet, it’s a pretty sweet ride

(chorus)
Can’t just wait for the bad days
Can’t just wait for all the sad days too
You have come to let me go
Just want to let you know
It’s okay
Tell China that I love her
And tell my folks I’m not afraid
Think of me this winter
And be brave

Who wants to sing to me today?
Who wants to come outside and play?
Who will let me kiss them on the face?
Why wait for heaven when heaven’s just another place?

I know the lady has come
To send me on my way
I will fall asleep
I will fall away

Rainbow pop on a sunny day
Cool grass, sitting in the shade
Think I’ll lay down for awhile
You gave me love, you gave me a smile

Went for a drive in Griffith Park
Life’s so easy when you don’t bark
Children laughing as they ride
It’s pretty sweet, it’s a pretty sweet ride

(chorus)
Can’t just wait for the bad days
Can’t just wait for all the sad days too
You have come to let me go
Just want to let you know
It’s okay
Tell China that I love her
And tell my folks I’m not afraid
Think of me this winter
And be brave

Who wants to sing to me today?
Who wants to come outside and play?
Who will let me kiss them on the face?
Why wait for heaven when heaven’s just another place?

I know the lady has come
To send me on my way
I will fall asleep
I will fall away

(chorus)
Can’t just wait for the bad days
Can’t just wait for all the sad days too
You have come to let me go
Just want to let you know
It’s okay
Tell China that I love her
And tell my folks I’m not afraid
Think of me this winter
And be brave

RIP CODY 1993-2005

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China and Cody
+++

Monday, July 18, 2005

NAKED CHRISTIANS FLYING UP

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Hurry Rapture
Come to daddy
Come to save America
Praises be to our sky daddy
He’s the bomb that’s on the bus

Millions waiting
For the Rapture
Maxing out their credit cards
Getting ready for a slaughter
God’s a killer you can trust

Armageddon
Final conflict
Turn the living to the dead
Mark it on your calendar
Naked Christians flying up

(chorus)
Naked Christians go to heaven
You can see it in their smiles
Naked Christians into heaven
Clothing left behind in piles
Naked Christians flying up
Up above the world so high
If you’re modest, you’re in trouble
Grab your nethers when you fly

Come on Jesus
Please come quickly
We don’t want to play no more
Praise to Jesus, please come quickly
You know full well how people talk

It’s a comfort
Just our knowing
That you carry a mean sword
Heaven sent this blood starts flowing
Death to all outside the flock

Armageddon
Final conflict
Turn the living to the dead
Mark it on your calendar
Naked Christians flying up

(chorus)
Naked Christians go to heaven
You can see it in their smiles
Naked Christians into heaven
Clothing left behind in piles
Naked Christians flying up
Up above the world so high
If you’re modest, you’re in trouble
Grab your nethers when you fly

Hurry Rapture
Come to daddy
Come to save America
Praises be to our sky daddy
He’s the bomb that’s on the bus

Millions waiting
For the Rapture
Maxing out their credit cards
Getting ready for a slaughter
God’s a killer you can trust

Armageddon
Final conflict
Turn the living to the dead
Mark it on your calendar
Naked Christians flying up

(chorus)
Naked Christians go to heaven
You can see it in their smiles
Naked Christians into heaven
Clothing left behind in piles
Naked Christians flying up
Up above the world so high
If you’re modest, you’re in trouble
Grab your nethers when you fly

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+++

A MONDAY MORNING IN JULY DURING ANOTHER WAR

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I went over to General JC Christian's House of Manly Worship--commentator ronjazz wrote: Turn that desert to glass, I say, and leave us in peace. So, that's what starts things sometimes: somebody says something or writes something and I can't leave it be.


IRAQ ON THE ROCKS

Got myself a rock glass
Poured my whisky in
Add a splash of water
Sit down and settle in

I ponder deeper meanings
As I take a sip
This here rock glass
This here rock glass
This here rock glass
Is all that's left of Iraq

Grandpa built a still
In 1922
His lightning just like Jesus:
White and always true

I have kept a bottle
For just such a day
It helps fill up the hollow
It helps for me to say:

We have burned the desert
We burned the people there
We have burned the sand itself
And turned it into glass
Come have a sip with me
Come raise a victory glass

Start to feeling good
Think I'll have another
My hand stopped shaking
Think I'll call my brother

Think I'll fix my life
Think I'll find my ex
This here rock glass
This here rock glass
This here rock glass
Is all that's left of Iraq

What did I ever do
To make me feel so bad
Pour myself another
Feeling kind of sad

I support the troops
I support the rain
I support the band
They just showed up to say:

We have burned the desert
We burned the people there
We have burned the sand itself
And turned it into glass
Come have a sip with me
Come raise a victory glass

Got myself a rock glass
Poured my whisky in
Add a splash of water
Sit down and settle in

I ponder deeper meanings
As I take a sip
This here rock glass
This here rock glass
This here rock glass
Is all that's left of Iraq

Grandpa built a still
In 1922
His lightning just like Jesus:
White and always true

I have kept a bottle
For just such a day
It helps fill up the hollow
It helps for me to say:

We have burned the desert
We burned the people there
We have burned the sand itself
And turned it into glass
Come have a sip with me
Come raise a victory glass

+++

Friday, July 15, 2005

WE CAN'T STAND IT WHEN WE FADE

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He touched so many people
He reached out to all of us
Some folks get special notice
They are buried in the dust
They are buried in the dust

We marched and we protested
It's just like fighting rust
Democracy defended
Democracy's a bust

Freedom's on the march
And liberty's on the run
Stick around
We have love for everyone
Stick around, my lonely one

Sergeant Lopez crossed the desert
Private Wilcox crossed the bridge
Together they crossed the border
Between the living and the dead
To save America
To save America
To save America
Hell is heaven sent

I see the yellow stickers
I see the little loops
I see the children dying
Taking candy from the troops
Taking candy from the troops

How much did your arm cost?
How much for your new face?
Are the crutches such a bother?
Life can vanish without a trace
Life can vanish without a trace

Freedom's on the march
And liberty's on the run
Stick around
We have love for everyone
Stick around, my lonely one

Sergeant Lopez crossed the desert
Private Wilcox crossed the bridge
Together they crossed the border
Between the living and the dead
To save America
To save America
To save America
Hell is heaven sent

There are no more words inside my cannon
There are no more songs in my charade
We can't tap dance in a pattern
We can't stand it when we fade
We can't stand it when we fade
Away

He touched so many people
He reached out to all of us
Some folks get special notice
They are buried in the dust
They are buried in the dust

We marched and we protested
It's just like fighting rust
Democracy defended
Democracy's a bust

Freedom's on the march
And liberty's on the run
Stick around
We have love for everyone
Stick around, my lonely one

Sergeant Lopez crossed the desert
Private Wilcox crossed the bridge
Together they crossed the border
Between the living and the dead
To save America
To save America
To save America
Hell is heaven sent

There are no more words inside my cannon
There are no more songs in my charade
We can't tap dance in a pattern
We can't stand it when we fade
We can't stand it when we fade
Away

+++

SWEET JESUS CHRIST COME ON DOWN

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Karl Rove
Karl Rove
Deep inside his cove
Tried to play checkers with chess
To move one ahead
He left another dead
Will someone kindly clean up his mess?

Treason is hard
Treason is mean
To turn one's back on kith and kin
Jesus once said
(He was neither blue or red)
That which you do to them you do to me

Without Judas kiss
There is no Christian myth
Without Karl Rove
The future dims
Two years he had
To just say "My bad"
He's the kind that only mouths the hymns

(chorus)
Sweet Jesus Christ
Sweet Lord above
Redeemer for the sins of all mankind
We were so lost
And knew not the cost
Sweet Jesus Christ come on down!

Liberals deny
The true god in the sky
You can trust them to hate America
When Saddam Hussein
Lost his tyrant's reign
The liberals cried and cried and cried

Look over there
Big trouble over there
Don't waste your time looking here
We know the way
To lead the USA
Just turn that dial up on fear

When the day is done
When the light is gone
When the game has all played out
We will prevail
We will not fail
Treason is just a word that liberals shout

(chorus)
Sweet Jesus Christ
Sweet Lord above
Redeemer for the sins of all mankind
We were so lost
And knew not the cost
Sweet Jesus Christ come on down!

Karl Rove
Karl Rove
Deep inside his cove
Tried to play checkers with chess
To move one ahead
He left another dead
Will someone kindly clean up his mess?

Treason is hard
Treason is mean
To turn one's back on kith and kin
Jesus once said
(He was neither blue or red)
That which you do to them you do to me

Without Judas kiss
There is no Christian myth
Without Karl Rove
The future dims
Two years he had
To just say "My bad"
He's the kind that only mouths the hymns

(chorus)
Sweet Jesus Christ
Sweet Lord above
Redeemer for the sins of all mankind
We were so lost
And knew not the cost
Sweet Jesus Christ come on down!

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Lyrics originally posted at Corrente.

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Thursday, July 14, 2005

THE THIRD ROMANTIC SONG

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romance is spent
romance is shot
romance is dead
romance is hot
romance is lust
romance is love
comes from below
look at me from above

romance is sex
romance is done
romance is darkness
romance is fun
romance is trouble
romance is pain
it goes with the turf
and then it goes away

whatever happened to you in the moonlight
on top of me, so naked and oh so light
you disappeared in the featureless fade
you were the goddess and I had it made
but then it was all gone
time to cut and run
time to break it down
you said goodbye
but I was still around
you broke me the way I should be broke
I broke like perfect glass
but all that is past

romance is fear
romance is fame
romance: sincere
romance is flame
romance is god
romance is death
open your heart
take the deepest breath

romance is sweet
romance is sad
romance is promise
romance is bad
romance is war
romance is peace
there’s room for one more
romance can cheat

whatever happened to you in the moonlight
on top of me, so naked and oh so light
you disappeared in the featureless fade
you were the goddess and I had it made
but then it was all gone
time to cut and run
time to break it down
you said goodbye
but I was still around
you broke me the way I should be broke
I broke like perfect glass
but all that is past

romance is passing
romance is hard
romance is the trickster
romance is the card
romance is forever
romance fades away
when you endeavor
it will take your heart away

romance is your body
romance is your soul
romance is the boatman
romance is the shoal
romance is inside you
romance inside me
I love you forever
but it’s temporary

whatever happened to you in the moonlight
on top of me, so naked and oh so light
you disappeared in the featureless fade
you were the goddess and I had it made
but then it was all gone
time to cut and run
time to break it down
you said goodbye
but I was still around
you broke me the way I should be broke
I broke like perfect glass
one more toast to perfect glass

romance is spent
romance is shot
romance is dead
romance is hot
romance is lust
romance is love
comes from below
look at me from above

romance is sex
romance is done
romance is darkness
romance is fun
romance is trouble
romance is pain
it goes with the turf
and then it goes away

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PARAMOUR

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I heard the rolling thunder
I saw the cracking sky
It came to me in wonder
It came to me on high
The walls stood silent by
The gates came swinging open
Thanks for dropping by
Fall into the sky

I want Paradise forever
I want Shangri-La
I want to dream away the seasons
I want what Dante saw
I will surrender
I will surrender
I will surrender in Paramour

The blades of grass unravel
The largest part of night
The wine, the beer, the laughter
Smoke is drifting by
I saw you in the garden
They said you were not there
Long ago your heart was broken
Now all you do is stare
You are so very cold, my Lady Faire

I want Paradise forever
I want Shangri-La
I want to dream away the seasons
I want what Dante saw
I will surrender
I will surrender
I will surrender in Paramour

She dances on the water
She dances on the water
She dances on the water
In Paramour

The band was in a trance
The light bent to its will
The walls began to whisper
Followed by a chill
Somewhere in the darkness
Escaping down the hall
I lost my mind to madness
I have nothing left at all
Sometimes angels have to fall
In Paramour

I want Paradise forever
I want Shangri-La
I want to dream away the seasons
I want what Dante saw
I will surrender
I will surrender
I will surrender in Paramour

I heard the rolling thunder
I saw the cracking sky
It came to me in wonder
It came to me on high
The walls stood silent by
The gates came swinging open
Thanks for dropping by
Fall into the sky

She dances on the water
She dances on the water
She dances on the water
In Paramour


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Wednesday, July 13, 2005

DETECTIVE NEPTUNE IN "CHRIST, THE SCREAMING AVENGER"

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CHAPTER SEVEN: I’M READY FOR MY CLOSE-UP, MR. DEMILLE!

+++

Clutching my Lazy Susan to my chest, I made my way across Centinela to the Pacific Area Jail. It was slow going as the sidewalks had buckled and vaulted, the road was bubbling and swallowing cars and people. I stopped to help a woman slumped in front of a shoe store. I picked her up and set her on her feet, but she just fell over again. She was dead. Blood trickled from both of her ears. It was as if she had been screamed at to death. Around her neck was a small, delicate necklace with a crucifix on it, and the face of the savior was contorted beyond belief. That must have hurt something fierce.

I covered the woman with some shoe boxes and continued on toward the jail. Behind me: no sign of Amphitrite or Artemis. Above me the sky was tearing like a wet paper towel, and behind it was a gathering void, so deep and oppressive and hollow my chest convulsed looking at it. Man I was hungry. I could just hear the screaming ahead, coming from the jail. If that son of a bitch Jesus woke up Vishnu I was never going to get to eat. Not ever. My legs were killing me but I began to run. I’m coming, Jesus, you son of a bitch. I’m coming!

+++

THE THREE HEADED GOD CAME DOWN AND UP AND ACROSS. THE THREE HEADED GOD OF ANCIENT DAYS ARRIVED. THE THREE HEADED GOD: YAHWEH, GOD AND ALLAH DESCENDED, ASCENDED, MANIFESTED. THE THREE HEADED GOD IN THE VOID AND OUT, THE LOWING OF ATOMS, THE FLAMING BUSH, THE GOLDEN HEART, THE PROMISE OF THE FATHER. THE THREE HEADED GOD LIT THE SKY ABOVE BURBANK, AND BELLOWED AND MADE QUAKE ALL HOPE, UNTIL A MRS. VELMA STUBBLEFIELD APPEARED BELOW THEM: SHE STOOD IN HER BACKYARD AND SHOOK HER FIST AT THE THREE HEADS OF MONOTHEISM AND SAID “THINGS ARE BAD ENOUGH AROUND HERE, ARE YOU IDIOTS SURE YOU WANT TO WASTE YOUR TIME IN BURBANK?” AND LO, THEY REALIZED THAT THEY DIDN’T NEED TO BE IN BURBANK, THEY NEEDED TO GO OVER TO THE VENICE AREA. IT WAS A MIRACLE. ALL PRAISE THE ONE THREE HEADED GOD.

+++

The screaming, the screaming of the damned, not from hell but from the messiah, from the bringer of light, eternally suffering on the Cross, the center of flesh and spirit at war with the impenetrable mystery, the raw exposed nerve of god. Screaming, screaming to the Council of Bishops, the architects of the tortured Christ, the supplication of fallen man unto an image of destruction and violent hatred. For two thousand years the Followers of the Stories of Christ had kept the Messiah on the World Tree, hung with nails in hopeless agony. It was time to end this nightmare. It was time to vanish the dream.

The van pulled up in front of the jail. Christ gasped for air. The sky became black as the Three Headed God of the Middle East peered as One upon the land. Christ threw his head in fury and cranked the van’s stereo. Nothing came out. The CD was upside down.

Goddamnit, said the Christ. Goddamnit!

+++

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At the jail, the Various Gods were being sucked out of the jail and into nothingness by a wormhole. Tammuz: gone. Mithra: adieu. Queztacoatl: adios amigo. Athena, Persephone, Aphrodite: gone, gone, gone. The fabric of the universe was unraveling. I was close to the jail now and looked anxiously behind me, but did not see my ex-wife nor her girl-friend. That was good because I lost the receipt to the Lazy Susan and if they wanted to start some more shit I was at a disadvantage.

Across the globe, world leaders and world citizens watched the sky, the land, the oceans being torn apart: all were powerless, speechless, in shock. Who do you call when the world is ending? My cell phone rang. Funny, I don’t have a cell phone. I answered anyway: it was my brother, Hades.

“Where are you?”

“Outside.”

“Well,” he said, “come on inside.”

“Inside where?”

“The jail,” he said.

“I have your wallet,” I offered.

“Never mind the wallet. Get in here before the world ends!”

“Are you sure you’re not mad about the wallet?” I asked. “I mean, I know the world’s ending, but brothers can sometimes hold grudges and…oh, shit. Here comes my ex and her monkey bitch. I’m coming in, I’m coming in…”

I ran inside the jail. Everything was chaos. An enormous black hole was sucking the last of the gods into the void. Hades looked at me with exasperation as he hung on to an exposed joist, his legs flying up in the air in front of him. The ceilings had vanished and the sky was visible. The bare bones of the building lay naked like a naked corpse-style building. Vishnu, unmoved by the ruckus, lay asleep in the last cell, but began to turn over as Lakshmi cried.

What was needed now was action. And action is what I am all about: I made for the cafeteria. I’m not that choosy when it comes to lunch, maybe a little sandwich, some fruit, a piece of pie for desert. I’m low-maintenance. If there’s espresso, that’s nice too.

+++

THE THREE HEADED GOD OF THE MIDDLE EAST: YAHWEH, GOD, ALLAH, LOOKED DOWN INTO THE JAIL, OR WHAT WAS LEFT OF IT. IT LOOKED DOWN AND GIGGLED, WHICH ANGERED LAKSHMI. SHE WAVED AT THEM SEDUCTIVELY, AND THEY DESCENDED, UNTIL THEY WERE CLOSE ENOUGH TO TOUCH INAPPROPRIATELY. SHE SMILED AND REACHED OUT TO THEM AND THEN WITHDREW, AND DOWN THEY FELL INTO THE VORTEX OF THE WHORLING VOID. DOWN THEY FELL, AND WERE NO MORE. THAT DENOUEMENT WASN’T NEARLY AS HARD AS SOME FOLKS HAD EXPECTED IT WOULD BE, WHAT WITH THE THREE HEADED GOD BEING SUCH A PROFOUND CONSTRUCT, BUT THERE IT IS.

+++

I rummaged in the cafeteria, but things were disappearing faster than I could make them into lunch. As soon as I put margarine on my bread the bread would vanish into one of the space/time lesions that were popping up everywhere, not to mention that really big vortex in the main hall. I managed to find some cottage cheese, but when it smelled a bit off. Don’t you just hate that? All of the manifested world vanishing, and the last bit of cottage cheese has that skunky aftertaste that stay in your mouth? I looked into the parking lot, not with x-ray eyes but because all the walls were gone, and could see crazy Jesus staring at the jail. Uh-oh.

+++

The last minute of the third hour on the cross. No release, no shock, just agony on acid, agony beyond what a man can endure, agony that filled the messiah with the last awful truth of humanity, the truth of suffering: I come to release you from agony, and instead it is pure agony that I become. The CD lay on the floor, shattered, done. The recorded voice of the screaming Christ was no more. Jesus looked up and stared at the jail: the last minute of the sacrifice, the last measure of the heart of god, the last of the last. He pressed down on the gas: time to wake up Vishnu. Time to end the suffering for all time, for all worlds, for all life. He opened wide his jaws and formed the last scream: the tires spun and smoke poured out and the van raced into the jail as the Christ screamed and screamed and screamed…

+++

I was lucky to find some tuna fish and crackers. Now I had to find a can opener: there was a big opener attached to a cutting counter thingie, but it looked too big to be of use. I gave it a go though: lunch is lunch, as somebody used to say. I heard a terrible screaming as I rotated the can: for a second I thought the can was screaming. That would be horrible! Imagine living in a world where cans screamed when you opened them! It would probably mean the end of an entire industry.

+++

It is coming. I am the way. The nails are flying, the boards are shattering, time is gone, the great wall of death is built upon my bones, and the scream is the cry of perfect agony. I am come. I am come. I am come.

I could see that Jesus was driving through the jail, or what was left of it. He looked really intense, you know? Really intense. I was going to look for some mayonnaise when it occurred to me he was going to kill Vishnu if he wasn’t stopped. It also occurred to me that the mayonnaise I found wasn’t a brand name, which is very disappointing. I know that these jails have tight budgets, but come on. I grabbed the jar and made for Vishnu’s cell. Oh my god: I almost forgot the crackers!

+++

The old gods knew something. They knew the mask was the key, for what sounded through was beyond all measure. The old gods were the stuff of dreams. I was the stuff of the dreamer. I was the Lord thy God made Flesh. Ahhh! Ahhhh!!!

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One of the things about structures are the foundations and the way the walls are erected. Often one sees the “cross” theme as boards intersect at ninety degree angles. It is perfectly natural to have these cross beams and support positions. I set the crackers on an exposed beam as Jesus drove straight at Vishnu’s cell. His van ran flush into a concrete support, and Jesus flew out the front window spread eagle, screaming like a banshee. His body was flung onto an exposed cross section of beams, and He had done to Himself what He hated humanity for: He was back on the Cross. I ran over to him: he lifted his bloodied head, looked at Vishnu stirring in his cell, raised an eyebrow and said these final words: ”I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.” After all he had been through, and he still managed to make a joke. I was so caught off guard I didn’t notice my ex-wife and Artemis standing over Vishnu, staring at me.

I picked up the Lazy Susan and said I had lost the receipt, but they weren’t buying it. They said to hand it over or pay the price. I had already paid the damn price, even if it was with my brother’s cash! But I didn’t care anymore. I learned a long time ago that principles are something for losers with principles.

“You want the Lazy Susan? You got it!” I tossed it over, but my arm struck the lower beam of Christ’s new Cross, thus altering the flight and sending it toward…Vishnu’s head. I think it hit him on his forehead. The last thing I remember is thinking, “Uh-oh” and “I never got any desert.”

+++

I awoke face down at water’s edge, the way I always do. I never know what the job is, but the job will come to me. It always does.

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The End

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IN WHICH I POST A SONG THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT ASSHOLE KARL ROVE



PERFECTION UPON THE MOON

I know you so completely
And I don’t know you at all
You surrender so sweetly
But you’re afraid I’ll let you fall
Completely
Let you fall

I would hold you in forever
God will never find your bones
We will smile and endeavor
To skip on water just like stones
Forever
Just like stones

Take away, take away the nonsense
Take away, take away the light
What is form without substance?
Will you love me this very night?
Will you love me tonight?
Love me tonight
Love me tonight
Love me tonight

Perfection is over-rated
Like a broom upon the moon
We could sweep a thousand lifetimes
And whistle a happy tune
Perfection
Perfection upon the moon

Take away, take away the nonsense
Take away, take away the light
What is form without substance?
Will you love me this very night?
Will you love me tonight?
Love me tonight
Love me tonight
Love me tonight

I know you so completely
And I don’t know you at all
You surrender so sweetly
But you’re afraid I’ll let you fall
Completely
Let you fall

I would hold you in forever
God will never find your bones
We will smile and endeavor
To skip on water just like stones
Forever
Just like stones

Take away, take away the nonsense
Take away, take away the light
What is form without substance?
Will you love me this very night?
Will you love me tonight?
Love me tonight
Love me tonight
Love me tonight

(whispered)
Perfection is over-rated
Like a broom upon the moon
We could sweep a thousand lifetimes
And whistle a happy tune
Perfection
Perfection upon the moon


+++

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

THIS ONE IS FOR MUDDY WATERS

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COME ON OUT!

That man, he beat his wife
That man, he bad
That man make her do things
That make her sad

We told him to his face
He laughed in ours
We think he's got a cannon
In his backyard

Listen motherfucker
Listen up good
You done raped your woman
Ain't nuthin' but a hood

And then he closed the door
It's like he's taunting us
He's in there right now
Sorrowful cuss

(chorus)
Come on out
Come on out
We're taking your woman
We'll treat her right
Come on out
This very night
Come on out
Best do what we say
There is no doubt
You better come out

He nail his door shut
He nail it tight
'You ain't never get in here
Morning, noon or night'

Is that it, Mister H.?
Ain't that a plan?
Listen, little criminal
We are the man!

George got on the phone
He called everyone
Join us tonight
Help us get it done

Lot of folks don't answer
Lot of folks not sure
George say he a sick man
We are the cure

(chorus)
Come on out
Come on out
We're taking your woman
We'll treat her right
Come on out
This very night
Come on out
Best do what we say
There is no doubt
You better come out

George got the money
From the cookie jar
Bought himself a flight suit
Look just like a star

He stand on the sidewalk
And shout real loud
'Come on out, boy
Come see the crowd'

A posse was forming
The gang was all poised
Got guns and ammo
For all the girls and boys

Mr. H, he cagey
He don't make a sound
Whatever he started
It has come around

(chorus)
Come on out
Come on out
We're taking your woman
We'll treat her right
Come on out
This very night
Come on out
Best do what we say
There is no doubt
You better come out

George sat in his car
Way on down the street
He gave the high sign
Mr. H to defeat

Hey, we're the good guys
We bring the news
Freedom and hope now
Children get shoes

We blew down the front door
And we grabbed the wife
She cried and she cried
We raped her twice

She had such a look
On her pretty face
Her eyes all rolled back
She lost in space

(chorus)
Come on out
Come on out
We're taking your woman
We'll treat her right
Come on out
This very night
Come on out
Best do what we say
There is no doubt
You better come out

We got that bastard
We lock him up
He will never again
Hurt that buttercup

We're freedom fighters
But freedom ain't free
Shot a couple of kids
They were up in a tree

We secured the area
We lock it down
Turned on the gas
Gonna burn it down

Tell his wife it's over
Tell her peace is here
If she don't shut up
We'll teach her fear

(chorus)
Come on out!
Come on out!
We're taking your woman!
We'll treat her right!
Come on out
This very night
Come on out
Best do what we say
There is no doubt
You better come out

+++

Image from here.


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Monday, July 11, 2005

BURN THE NON-BELIEVERS IN HELL

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We love the Jews and Israel
We love the shining city on the hill
We love the future, when Jesus returns
To burn the non-believers in hell

We love profits that never include risk
We love invertebrates, including lobster bisque
We love the bible, because we pick and choose
To burn the non-believers in hell

Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn them in hell
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn burn them in hell

We need a heifer, one that is red
Because our dear Lord has said so
We will sacrifice him high on the hill
Non-believers will all burn in hell

We will embrace the light and the way
We will dance in God's love
We will spend eternity in heaven
Non-believers will all burn in hell

Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn them in hell
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn burn them in hell

Sweet Jesus Christ was a Jew, this is true
His daddy used to favor them
But they all worshipped a golden calf
Let's burn the non-believers in hell

We need the Jews to bring about the rapture
And for this we surely love them so
When they have finished, good-bye to them
Let's burn the non-believers in hell

Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn them in hell
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn, burn
Burn, burn burn them in hell

+++

Saturday, July 09, 2005

I RUN THE WORLD!

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I want to go to war
I want to invade
I want to cut all the taxes
When do I get paid

I want to sink a pirate ship
The one in Disneyland
I want to put the Lord
Back into Vietnam

I run the world!
I run the world!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Whoopee!

I want to crush your pepper
All over my ham
I want to wear the horns
I want to be your ram

I want the USA
To remember my name
I am the real deal
I am a fucking flame

I run the world!
I run the world!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Whoopee!

The future beckons
Like a neon sign
Filled with toxins
Those toxins are mine!

And when I die
And they bury me low
I will slowly climb out
And I will steal the show

I run the world!
I run the world!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Whoopee!

I want to go to war
I want to invade
I want to cut all the taxes
When do I get paid

I want to sink a pirate ship
The one in Disneyland
I want to put the Lord
Back into Vietnam

I run the world!
I run the world!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Look at me!
I am the President!
Whoopee!

+++

Friday, July 08, 2005

WHOLE LOTTA SHAKIN' GOIN' ON!

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The FINAL CHAPTER of Detective Neptune in Christ, the Screaming Avenger will appear next Wednesday, July 13th.

Will Los Angeles tumble into the sea? Will Amphitrite and Artemis rise from the wreckage of their thrift store for one more crushing blow to Neptune's cranium? What about the Lazy Susan? Will Neptune finally get lunch? Will Christ blast his way into the eardrums of Vishnu while he dreams the World Dream, shattering the Uncreated and vanishing the Universe?

And look: Up in the Sky! Who the fuck are those clowns?

SEE YOU WEDNESDAY FOR DETECTIVE NEPTUNE IN CHRIST, THE SCREAMING AVENGER!
CHAPTER SEVEN: I'M READY FOR MY CLOSE-UP, MR DEMILLE!

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Thursday, July 07, 2005

THE RED PLANET

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As peace is the end of war, it is the end, likewise, of preparations for war; and he may be justly hunted down, as the enemy of mankind, that can choose to snatch, by violence and bloodshed, what gentler means can equally obtain"

Samuel Johnson


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SISTERS SING TOGETHER

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Isn't it delicious, tasty and divine
Sugar from the mouth of God
Candy from the vine

Happiness from factories
Prepared by little elves
Angels sing in heaven
They sit on little shelves

Everywhere the promise
Of ceramic paradise
Icons of the Goddess
Made to pay the price
Like souls on ice
They pay the price

Sisters sing together
Sisters sing

Genetic engineering
Making little gods
Happy little kingdoms
Winken, Blinken and Nods

Dancing in the moonbeams
Waving magic wands
Happy little sisters
Here for a time, then gone

Listen to their laughter
So sweet, as light as air
Happy little sisters
Everywhere

Everywhere the promise
Of ceramic paradise
Icons of the Goddess
Made to pay the price
Like souls on ice
They pay the price

Sisters sing together
Sisters sing

Isn't it delicious, tasty and divine
Sugar from the mouth of God
Candy from the vine

Happiness from factories
Prepared by little elves
Angels sing in heaven
They sit on little shelves

Everywhere the promise
Of ceramic paradise
Icons of the Goddess
Made to pay the price
Like souls on ice
They pay the price

Sisters sing together
Sisters sing
Sisters sing together
Sisters sing

+++

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

DETECTIVE NEPTUNE IN "CHRIST, THE SCREAMING AVENGER"

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CHAPTER SIX: FOR IN THAT SLEEP OF DEATH WHAT DREAMS MAY COME!

I want to sleep the way I imagine normal people might sleep—heavy and gone and assuaged and caressed with magical sleep when the night is moist with its certainty, its dominion. I want to lay my head on a pillow and vanish into a mist of myself, the weight of gravity bearing me to the floor of the Universe, the bed of everything, the sleep of reason, the land of dreams. They don’t even have to be sweet dreams, or lusty or hopeful: just dreams that construct a perfection of a vanishing release would be nice. I want…

+++

I opened my eyes and was glad I did. Artemis had dragged her scrawny ass toward the front door, looking, I think, to smack me again. Outside Los Angeles’ west side was on fire, it was flames and fissures and heat: it was coals. I pulled myself along the floor toward the front entrance, with my Club Trident in my right hand and my left busy reaching back to fend off the Goddess of the Hunt. I did not know where my ex-wife was, and no longer cared. It was a small shop, and she could be under any number of things: the collapsed roof, the clothing racks, whatever. I still wanted lunch: it had been close to two days since I last had ate in Venice. This is all wrong on so many levels.

I made it to the door and stood up: outside in perfect silence was a little boy staring at me, the one who had urged me up from the sand at the beach. He pointed to the sky: holes were beginning to appear, small holes, like tiny rips in a cloth. I turned back to ask what was going on, but the boy was gone.

Artemis made one more attempt at my head—she held up a Maltese Falcon replica, a black icon from a Burbank Studio promotion, and swung it hard, missing me and striking herself in her cheek, knocking herself backwards. What a great bird! Artemis looked up at me and passed out. I shoved the door against her prone body, wedging her and slipping out into the chaos of the City of Angels. That last earthquake must have been a big one and I despaired at getting some food. I even considered making myself a little something, maybe a sandwich or some cracker and cheese…whatever.

I figured my brother, Hades, would be pissed at me. After all, I had taken his wallet and gone earthquake crazy in L.A., but forgive and forget, that’s what I say. I looked back down South Centinela and saw the back of a van making its way slowly past the rubble and methane fires on the street. It was the van I saw Jesus driving. Maybe he knew of a good, solid, earthquake-proof restaurant: we could have lunch, like His father and I used to do in the old days. I wiped the broken glass from my face and headed after the van. If He had cash maybe He would pop for lunch and I would be able to give Haddy his wallet back without any hard feelings. Brothers can be so petty.

I looked up at the blackened, pixilated sky as Los Angeles burned: why had the child pointed at the holes in the sky? What was he, a critic?

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This time the music would be His. This time the notes would be like sulfur, the lyrics like balm, the Rapture made into a concert, the concert made for a God, the God asleep, dreaming the World Dream: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come must give us pause, but no pause comes.

The Third Hour on the Cross, the last awful hollows, the body in agony, the soul bereft, the Hour and Eternity and Life and Death and Here It Comes because It’s Always Here…

He steered the van, eyeing in the rear view mirror the impressive speaker system inside, a mobile concert waiting for an audience, a release from the gift of the Martyr, termination and release and nothing.

Shaking, He lifts the CD and puts it in the slot: the amplified cries of the One, shaking His fist, shaking His arms, wild and sweating and on His final quest. Take me off the cross. Take me off the cross. Take me off the cross.

The van moved up South Centinela and headed for the Pacific Area Jail, where on the floor, curled up, Vishnu held the key. Wake up, little dreamer. Wake up, Oh Uncreated One. Wake up and end the dream. Take me off the cross. Take me…

The van careened along, striking two cars at the intersection of West Washington. There were no police. Three people staggered out, saw Jesus, and staggered away. The city was on fire. Jesus screamed and screamed and screamed, and put the CD in the slot. Jesus had His voice caught in the binary grooves of a plastic disc, a disc that, played loud enough, would end the dream, and pain would be gone forever. Come off of the cross, dear Jesus. We put you there and keep you there and you will never be free, unless You End the Dream.

He switched the dial, and turned up the volume, just another guy in a van listening to loud music while the city lay in ruins and flames licked at the sky. The last hour on the Cross was going to be the Last Hour, period. Was there no mercy but the mothering of total annhilation?

He reached His hand to the volume button and watched the numbers go up: 8, 9, 10…11, 15, 21, 29…35, 40, 44…when a messiah screams, people listen. He drove towards the jail, the speakers blaring His soul, His agony. He was come with the vengeance of the Lord, the retribution of the wronged.

Vishnu stirred on the cold, hard floor of the Pacific Area Jail. Jesus was indeed going to be dropping by, and things were going to get very loud.


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I looked up after the van but it was too fast. Man I was hungry. I held aloft my trident and knew what I had to do: I would go back to the jail. Maybe they would be serving lunch. I was really hungry, and even though I think Jesus is up to something it doesn't mean I don't eat. Check the contract, look at the fine print. Neptune eats, damn you! Neptune eats!

Man I was hungry. I headed back for the jail: it has kitchens and it most assuredly has food. Not great food, but food.

I looked up as I walked: the holes in the sky were getting bigger.

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ORPHEUS DESCENDING

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***

Wrap me up in linens
Cover me in myrrh
Take away my foolish pride
Make silent foolish words

I have loved and wondered
I have laughed and cried
I have lived a human life
Don't know the reason why

(chorus)
Orpheus descending
Orpheus is mending
Threads are unraveling
We have got some traveling
Let's walk at the edge of the night
If you have stopped seeing
The wonder in the life
Take my hand forever
Let's walk at the edge of the night

I have touched the river
I have felt the sea
Everyone knows the weather
Is just a passing thing

Tell me about the planets
And comets in the sky
Everything is moving
Don't know the reason why

(chorus)
Orpheus descending
Orpheus is mending
Threads are unraveling
We have got some traveling
Let's walk at the edge of the night
If you have stopped seeing
The wonder in the life
Take my hand forever
Let's walk at the edge of the night

Wrap me up in linens
Cover me in myrrh
Take away my foolish pride
Make silent foolish words

I have loved and wondered
I have laughed and cried
I have lived a human life
Don't know the reason why

(chorus)
Orpheus descending
Orpheus is mending
Threads are unraveling
We have got some traveling
Let's walk at the edge of the night
If you have stopped seeing
The wonder in the life
Take my hand forever
Let's walk at the edge of the night

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Image is from here.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

THE 4TH OF JULY IN A TIME OF WAR

There is no image
there is no advance team
there is no single thing
that says "good, noble people"

We were the hope of the world
but now are the hope
of mastercard and visa
(isn't that wonderful: mastercard/visa
the master's card, master and card
the boss and the pass
into a hole
that digs itself, over and over
and charges you for the shovel
veeeezah...ach, I luv you, veeeeezah...

We were the hope of the galaxy:
so blue and green and sexy
spinning free, snorting oxygen
a noisy place with hands
stretching impossibly far

We were the hope of the hopeless
for we changed everything
and offered lady liberty as proof
that we weren't kidding
even while we hung niggers
and spit at Jews and
shook our heads and said:
"no, no no no no"

We were the hope of those
who could not reach the hem of Jesus's robe
who could not stop being a woman
a black man
a hungry child
a fool
me

We were a tree some distance removed, uncarved

We were everything that you thought
when you went searching for America
in the bathroom or the den
we are this close to killing our own hearts

America went to the ocean
and built sand castles
and shook its fist at the ocean

It's our beach house now
here comes a wave
larger than the last
why won't it behave?

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FUDGE NOT, LEST YE BE FUDGED

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Let's ban gay marriage
Let's ban divorce
Let's ban adultery
Let's hold the course

Let's ban the asshole
Let's ban the dick
Let's ban bodily fluids
The thin and the thick

Let's codify our mission
Make plain to the unwashed
Let's ban orgasms
Just where do we get off?

(chorus)
I blame vaginas
I blame the penis
I blame the titties
That hang from Venus
I blame your mother
I blame your dad
I blame the jeans
Worn by Brad

Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahh...
Uh! Uh! Uh! Ahh yah...

Excuse me, sir?
You done spilled your seed
It's because of the fags, right?
They made you do the deed

When you have a problem
And the problem won't halt
Blame it on a queer
It's always their fault

So let's spread democracy
But not our legs
We will fight for freedom
But not for fags

(chorus)
I blame vaginas
I blame the penis
I blame the titties
That hang from Venus
I blame your mother
I blame your dad
I blame the jeans
Worn by Brad

Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahh...
Uh! Uh! Uh! Ahh yah...

You are so stupid
You are so lame
Looking for a scapegoat
Where to hang your blame

You aren't a Christian
What would a Christian care
Except to feed the poor
And bring love to share

Yeah, I said it
And I won't take it back
When you preach your hatred
You put Christ on the rack
I won't take it back

(chorus)
I blame vaginas
I blame the penis
I blame the titties
That hang from Venus
I blame your mother
I blame your dad
I blame the jeans
Worn by Brad

Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahh...
Uh! Uh! Uh! Ahh yah...

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Saturday, July 02, 2005

PANTHEISM MADE EASY

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God the father, god the mother
God is the sister and the brother
God is the darkness, god is the light
God is the morning, god is the night

God is the stillness, god is the motion
God is the land and god is the oceans
God is the reason for and against
God is revealed, god is the hints

God is the worker in the field
God is the planting, god is the yield
God is the traffic, god is the noise
God is the monster playing with toys

How can you put a border ‘round God?
How would you portion eternity?
God is the mask through which you see
God is you and god is me
God is you and god is me
God is the dreamer and the dream

God is the sacrifice, god is the loss
God is the gain, god is the cost
God is the killer, god is the thief
God is death and the falling leaf

God is the singer, god is the song
God is the words, short and long
God is the void, god is the face
God is the time and god is the place

God is the baby, god is the sun
God is the distance that you run
God is just a name we say
God is the Universe at play

How can you draw a line in the sand?
How can you pretend to understand?
God is the myth, god is the scene
God is you and god is me
God is you and god is me
God is the dreamer and the dream

God is the preacher, god is the whore
God is the prison, god is the door
God is the chill, god is the heat
God is the sour and the sweet

God is a Christian, god is a Jew
God is a Muslim, just to name a few
God is a Buddhist, god is a pagan
God is the Pope and Carl Sagan

God is the goddess, god is the moon
God is the piper and the tune
God is the river, god is the tree
God is everything you see

How can you claim only one way?
Locked in a book and what you say?
How did the concept become a thing?
God is you and god is me
God is you and god is me
God is the dreamer and the dream

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