Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

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

Saturday, March 31, 2007

A Saturday Night Rambling Thing

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Say Goodbye and Adieu

I've been feeling kind of restless
With a hankerin' to roam
I'll take a tack off the beaten track
And say goodbye to my home

I'll head off for the desert
Or drive off towards the sea
Ride a plane into Spain
Or maybe Italy

Wherever I disembark
Wherever I arrive
I will smile, for a while
And try to stay alive

Being human is harder than it looks
And easier than it seems
So much of life is filled with strife
And death is just like a dream

(chorus)
Ho-dee, ho-dee
a ho-dee-lay-dee-hee
Seems trouble is on the double
And it's coming after me
Ho-dee, ho-dee
a ho-dee-lay-dee-hoo
By and by, I will fly
And say goodbye and adieu
Ho-dee, hey there
And a wacka-wacka-woo
Love is blind from behind
If you let me I'll let you

I wonder if I'll meet a gal
And if she'll love me true
If she'll let me rub her feet
And maybe sniff her shoe

Perhaps she will answer
The questions of my heart
If push comes to shove, from god above
Why did the good lord make farts?

I know some won't think it fair
To question my woman so
It won't matter, I'm a mad hatter
If you really have to know

(chorus)
Ho-dee, ho-dee
a ho-dee-lay-dee-hee
Seems trouble is on the double
And it's coming after me
Ho-dee, ho-dee
a ho-dee-lay-dee-hoo
By and by, I will fly
And say goodbye and adieu
Ho-dee, hey there
And a wacka-wacka-woo
Love is blind from behind
If you let me I'll let you

Someday a dark rider will appear
And gallop into my view
Silently pointing me
To finally get a clue

You only get a little while
And then you get no more
Times up, drain your cup
And then head right out the door

But I will not fear that day
I will hold that rider close
If I'm going down I'm kidnapping that clown
And heading for the coast

(chorus)
Ho-dee, ho-dee
a ho-dee-lay-dee-hee
Seems trouble is on the double
And it's coming after me
Ho-dee, ho-dee
a ho-dee-lay-dee-hoo
By and by, I will fly
And say goodbye and adieu
Ho-dee, hey there
And a wacka-wacka-woo
Love is blind from behind
If you let me I'll let you
Love is blind from behind
If you let me I'll let you

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The Fire This Time

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I was down near Adams & Western when what to my wondering eyes did appear but a fast burning fire that sent smoke in the air...


The fire soon became the center of attention across the city...


For job-related reasons I had to head west while the fire burned. Looking skyward as I and my work partner drove along Jefferson Boulevard, an oily, brackish cloud broke off from the main plume and headed south, then hovered for a time before it was slowly inhaled into the lungs of my fellow Angelenos.

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My favorite image: An L.A. Metro Hospital sign (this facility is where a lot of patients from skidrow end up) in the foreground, smoke from the fire deep in the background, and inbetween on the lower right a grinning skull bearing witness to all. Definitely an L.A. moment!

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Fellow Atwater Village blogger Atwater Village Newbie has a post up with images taken from a closer perspective. Nicely done, AVN!

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Thursday, March 29, 2007

I Took This Picture


I like it on account of the bird...

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My Wife Took This Picture


She likes it on account of the dogs...

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Monday, March 26, 2007

Gay Voodoo Limbo Tango Wango

Chicagodyke(CD) over at my usual haunt Correntewire has a post up about a virulently homophobic woman named Marica
who wrote an e-mail (in all caps!) totally ripping on Teh Gay. CD also posted a link to Pam who has more up on this subject. I was rather smitten by Marcia's use of language, and proceeded to write some lyrics to go with the images she inspired of Gay African Sugar Plum Fairies dancing in my Club Cranium.

Gay Voodoo Limbo Tango Wango

sunday night in the city of sin--my django, oh baby
sunday night and i'm crawlin along--my django, oh baby
all alone since my baby left me--my one and only django
all alone till i found a little club
i ducked inside
i made to die
but i came alive
i came alive

some girl, she was on the floor
she made them devil eyes
lit the night
she was africa
she moved her body
just like africa
dropped my gender i.d. into a bin
got on the dance floor, started shakin'

say goodbye to django
wango tango
say goodbye to django
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
say goodbye to django
wango-wango my baby django
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
wango-wango, limbo tango with me

c'mon baby, shake off the rust
dance like a tribal chieftain
all covered with dust
shake your gay ass
let go of fear
come on baby, dance over here
ooohhh! man you're queer
ooohhh! we're in africa
juicy lucy, mother of all
we're dancin' in africa
we're havin' a ball
say goodbye, say adieu
goodby django
hello...hello...wait for it...
hello: gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
shake it
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
shake it baby, shake it
everybody be alive
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango all night

some girl, she was on the floor
she made them devil eyes
lit the night
she was africa
she moved her body
just like africa
i dropped my gender i.d. into a bin
i got on the dance floor, started shakin'

say goodbye to django
wango tango
say goodbye to django
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
say goodbye to django
wango-wango my baby django
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango
wango-wango, limbo tango with me

gay voodoo limbo tango-wango-wango
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango-wango
shake it and bake it and don't never fake it
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango-wango
gay voodoo limbo tango-wango-wango

what's that?
django's on the phone?
django who?

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Labels:

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Heaven Must Be Missing A Caffeinated Angel


Jesus Christ, Patent Pending

Would it kill you to get me a cup of Italian Roast?

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The War In Iraq Is A Good War

Austin Cline has a post up at General JC Christian's place regarding the many fighting-age, able War Supporters and their undying committment to not fight in said war. The theme is important for many reasons: the blatant hypocrisy--i.e. an expression of agreement that is not supported by real conviction--the psychological disconnect, the unabashed sense of entitlement, the Jonah Goldbergizing* of an entire generation of people who are very comfortable never putting their own money where their mouths are.

So, yeah, I wrote some lyrics. Perhaps I was inspired by an angel™...

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The War in Iraq Is a Good War

The war in Iraq is a good war
Almost the best there ever was
It's far away from where I play
It lets me keep my buzz

I watch it on the TV
I help keep them ratings high
We wouldn't want it cancelled
Advertisers all know why

So here's to endless warfare
Against Iraqi scum
We will liberate them
While I sit on my bum

(chorus)
I support the troops, oh yeah
I support them all the way
I support them from my bedroom
It's the American way
I support the effort
We will end all that is wrong
Let's toast them with a sixer
And two more from the bong, boys
Two more from the bong

The reasons for the war are clear
Any fool can comprehend
We're liberating terrorists
So they can become Republicans

They'll wrap themselves in glory
When they join the GOP
Iraq will be a Red State
Where billionaires run free

And just like young Republicans
They will show the world some class
Like us they'll tattoo Limbaugh
On the boils on their ass

(repeat chorus)

Everybody!

The war in Iraq is a good war
Almost the best there ever was
It's far away from where I play
It lets me keep my buzz

I watch it on the TV
I help keep them ratings high
We wouldn't want it cancelled
Advertisers all know why

So here's to endless warfare
Against Iraqi scum
We will liberate them
While I sit on my bum

(repeat chorus)

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*Jonah doesn't look like the image from the link. I mean to say, he doesn't look like the image from the outside. Not anymore, anyway. He's actually in much better physical shape these days. Our nation's military would take him in a neocon heartbeat.

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Bush Threatens To Veto His Own Impeachment



(Jivester News, Lmtd.) It has been reported, via sources who ask that their identities not be revealed and that their fingerprints be removed from their hands, that during an impromptu stroll along the Northern Parapet of Castle White House, President Bush told two Secret Service men and a Dick Cheney impersonator "...gonna let you in on a little bit of reality with a capital T, lads: I'm gonna veto any attempt to impeach me! Rejected! Rejected! Ha-ha! Look at me, ma! I'm sitting on top of the world! I am the Vetoer! Manfred, get me the Flight Suit--I'm going airborne! Coo coo cachoo!"

White House spokesman Tony Snow, upon hearing of Bush's manly declaration of omnipotency, initially refused to come out of the FOX News Trailer in the front driveway--after a few minutes of no one asking him anything he popped his head out and yelled "(garbled)...serve at the pleasure of the President. That's what I do, I do it well, I do it better than just about anyone. I serve at his goddamn pleasure! I am a pleasure-serving son-of-a-bitch, and that's how he likes it, and that's how I like it! What's not to like? Huh? Answer me! Answer me!" Snow then quickly ducked back into the FOX trailer, at which time a few reporters noted the "If This Trailer's Jackin' You Know We're Whackin'" bumber sticker. A few heads nodded, sort of.

Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) issued a statement "...reaffirming the Democratic mission of funding the supplemental troop bill with an additional twenty-five million dollars to provide seventy-five additional Marines with all the equipment and supplies they would require to gain entry into the White House and remove that congenital oaf bastard with extreme prejudice." "Veto that, you fucking weirdo," added Pelosi, smiling in that chilling way women sometimes smile when they have a knife pointed at your ballsack.

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Jivester News is the property of Parallel Universe Productions and is in no way responsible for any rumors about a Dick Cheney impersonator wandering freely about the Villa White House, just waiting for a chance to start pushing as many buttons as he can find when the opportunity arises.

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"Kings Have Long Arms" image from here.

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Saturday, March 24, 2007

The Big & Little Hands Are Near the Twelve


Was that the noon train, dear?

Here in the lands known as Just Another Division of Global Industries (formerly titled as The United States of America) it is fast approaching High Noon for our civil rights, for the environment, for a safe and sane approach to the Middle East specifically and international policy in general, for public and private accountability for actions that affect the general welfare, for transparency in government, for national & affordable healthcare for our nation's rising impoverished class (and what's left of the middle class to boot) and for the primacy of reason conjoined with decency to guide us to an intrepid reaffirmation of the wisdom and promise of what perhaps our greatest and most sorely tested president called "the better angels™ of our nature." Will we who value Progressive values leave the Hero all by his lonesome to face the baleful, bullying beasts of the Beltway, or will we take up the mantle of that profoundly shining promise of democracy and forge it anew?

Read Bob Somerby every day (or every chance you get, whichever has you reading more of him) for the forseeable future. The campaign game is on, and the "apparatus" is gearing up to slime its presumed opponents: if you're interested in Al Gore as a viable candidate in '08, best you get to gearing up as well. Read The Daily Howler for everything you've always wanted to know about Heathers and Hounds in the hallways of America. His archives alone have a wealth of "documented atrocities" that have been served up to slur and slime a man they fear--served up by the Pundit Class and billionaires who mictorate blood and oil and pay good money to keep their piss golden, viscous and flowing.

If you already read Somerby and agree that Gore's viability as a candidate is worth fighting for, then start fighting for him. When a false meme is repeated let those who repeat it know they are being watched. When a lie is uttered don't just cry foul, call the fucking police. Tell 'em a crime has been committed that threatens the continued viability of our nation. I don't know if Gore can right the ten thousand wrongs afflicting a world that needs good, intelligent, decent men and women to lead it--I just know that a majority of voting Americans were robbed in the 2000 election and we (I am admittedly speaking with a good deal of presumption for like-minded souls) want what was taken from us: the Office of the President of the United States to be occupied by Albert Arnold Gore, Jr. Anything short of that will not suffice.

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High Noon image glommed from here.

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Friday, March 23, 2007

Goodnight Sun



does it ever strike you as funny
in a not so funny way
that those who protest science
believe that magic holds the day?
that somewhere in the distant past
a god who looked like man
made the world and all that's in it
from one great master plan?

these elder tales bode sorry woe
the dogma suffocates
the very deities who ruled
ruled themselves by ancient faiths
and though these gods are jealous
and capable of fury
there is no body for the courts
nothing to show the jury
it's not enough to question faith
or turn off in disgust
the challenge is to name the beast
and free it from our trust

what will slay the ancient myths
what will make them vanish
will not come from atheists
but from creativity that's banished
the followers of Iron Age
gods and all they wrought
have forged a too strait-jacket
and placed it on their god
they have declared its very form
its lineaments and power
on the outside of nature it was put
where it can sit and glower

it's said man must be redeemed to live
in heaven everlasting
while hell is filled with awful beasts
all straight from central casting
"a bad guy and a good guy fight
and the school marm is in trouble!"
it's religion for the nursery set
with the depth of a popped bubble
the legacy of history
so filled with charm and wit
is also filled with misery
and all kinds of awful shit
and what gave hope and gleaming light
to all so doomed to die
were pretty little stories
filled with fantasy and lies

but where does all this leave a soul
who seeks to see beyond
the mere outward appearances
those who hear a siren song?
let go of everything you can
and trust the universe
do not proscribe the ineffable
let it sing its mystic verse
everything that is once wasn't
and someday will not be
this includes the tales of old
and all the verities

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Thursday, March 22, 2007

Alberto Gonzales Has a Thing For Kids



the children of iraq, new orleans and lebanon celebrate their new champion, their new advocate, their new savior, the attorney general of the united states!

it has been said that patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundral--thank you for making children that important last refuge! perhaps, because of your love, others will notice that such children lived on this planet, for a time, almost in a dream of life...

thank you, alberto, for your love of children

the dead say goodbye to your love

the wounded crave your love

the violated grasp at your love

alberto: may the unremitting pain of torture visit you in the night, and fall like iron devils to the floor near your bed, again and again and again, falling on your floor, the agony, the screams, the madness, the hopeless misery of condemned men, night after night after night...the soul has no address, but can be found by the aggrieved in ether and doubt. alberto: thou art cursed, and the journeys of your ancestors have collapsed unto a dung heap. you cast your die with evil men, and found delight. is it not plain?--we will be rid of you. the children know this.

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Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Test #312



somewhere a boy is running down the street
somewhere the air is smelling pretty darn sweet
dinner is cooking on an open flame
the sun is laughing as it flies away

out on the corner, waiting for a bus
random creatures on their way to the dust
the night is coming like a train on the tracks
poor little people start to fall in the cracks

Oh, they're falling into the ground
Oh, they're falling, they're falling down
Oh, their wings all cut and dried
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide

Help me, baby
Help me
Help me, can't you see?
I need an angel who can make me see
I need an angel to set me free

that little bitch cisco brought his gun today
he waves it around and then he has his say
nobody will ever, ever understand
his secret identity and his master plan

well, the street lights are bathing the night
shoot them to pieces and fight the fight
let's get together and make a toast to the past
we'll drink to cisco with shards of glass

Oh, they're falling into the ground
Oh, they're falling, they're falling down
Oh, their wings all cut and dried
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide

Help me, baby
Help me
Help me, can't you see?
I need an angel who can make me see
I need an angel to set me free

they say that heaven is behind a gate
if you can't find it that's just your fate
we've been driving for a million years
can't see the road on account of the tears

up ahead, wait, we got to slow it down
turn off the headlights, coast into town
a stranger smiles at the side of the road
better keep driving and stay out of the cold
we left cisco at the side of the road

Oh, they're falling into the ground
Oh, they're falling, they're falling down
Oh, their wings all cut and dried
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide

Help me, baby
Help me
Help me, can't you see?
I need an angel who can make me see
I need an angel to set me free

somewhere a boy is running down the street
somewhere the air is smelling pretty sweet
dinner is cooking on an open flame
the sun is laughing as it flies away

out on the corner, waiting for a bus
random creatures on their way to the dust
the night is coming like a train on the tracks
poor little people start to fall in the cracks
poor little people start to fall in the cracks
poor little people start to fall in the cracks

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Image of young boy racing his shadow by mjs...the shot was taken near Elysian Park in Los Angeles.

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Monday, March 19, 2007

Los Angeles Iraq War Protest Photo Essay Part II


This too is America

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As promised, here are some more images taken at the Hollywood, California "Stop the War Protest" held March 17th, 2007--yes, this too is America...


George looks blueish


Little George wore Hot Pants


Big George wore a smirk


Latinos For Peace sported a banner


Tricky Dick displayed his trademark Victory signs


A man with long hair and a goatee showed off his patriotism


The teeming hordes, dressed in casual attire, carried signs and marched while many other citizens, perhaps tricked out in more formal wear, went to the beach or the mountains or the mall or...


Many, many cameras were put to use during the protest


A wide variety of signage was employed


Martin Sheen agreed to be interviewed


Actually, Martin Sheen spoke with a lot of people, people who wanted to speak with him


The march turned south from Hollywood Blvd. and continued down to Sunset Blvd., then headed west before making a right north to Hollywood & Highland


No, they wouldn't dare...


Thousands of people somehow managing to cooperate for a greater good










Dirty Fucking Commie Hippy Peace Sign


This guy was there with his wife...I was surprised that Cheney's staff hadn't outed them yet


It's a Great Big Brotherhood of Man! Erm, there were a couple of so-called
"Counter Protestors" across the street...dressed casually, I might add


I have to send this one to General JC Christian!


Oh, sure, as if Jesus stood for peace and love...




Defiance in the face of mendacity is no vice






The Peace Alliance


Thanks for dropping by...be good to people and the planet and the animals and the air and the water and the sky and the moon and the stars: take action, join in, tat tvam asi...

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Sunday, March 18, 2007

Los Angeles Iraq War Protest Photo Essay


Martin Sheen puts his heart where his shoulder is...

I went to the Iraq War Protest in Hollywood on Saturday, March 17th (an intoxicated tip of the intoxicated cap to our Irish friends) and took a bunch of pictures. Four years ago I marched in Downtown Los Angeles (in pouring rain) to protest the coming war—millions of us across the planet were making our voices heard, but the War Lobby won and subsequently thousands of Iraqis and Americans, Brits and Name Your Favorite Coalition Casualty Here have died, been maimed, made insane or left to blame as this hideous occupation heads into its fifth year...

Am I bitter about these awful events? Fuck no. I buried my bitterness, along with that greasy sack of Respect for Republicans, in a vast, sucking hole at the center of the Universe. Now I am witness.




I arrived at the storied corner of Hollywood & Vine about half an hour before the official protest began…

War wouldn’t be War without thanking someone for the memories…



Young folks joined in


Some even younger


The Hard Hat crowd was represented


Nothing spells Patriotism better than a bucket of blood!


Forget about Jesus on a tortilla: How about Che on a sarape?


Some protestors questioned the truthiness of Dear Leader


The New Gargoyles


Cardboard coffins are prepped to remind us of the war’s grim cost in human life…




One accountant-type sought to remind us of the financial cost of the war (he brings Robert Crumb to my perfervid mind...)



The police were on hand, bikes at the ready


Three Bomb Squad rigs showed up for reasons unknown


Corpus Delicti, a self-described “…Los Angeles based performance company born out of the historical mass movement to oppose U.S. Empire” showed up and added a surreal, ghostly tone to the whole affair



Part II of this Los Angeles Iraq War Protest Photo Essay will soon follow...

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