Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

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

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I Had a Dream of Diamonds



i had a dream of diamonds
blue and cut and bright
i carried them to denver
and lost them in a fight

i looked for them in memphis
and found them in a bar
my teeth turned into nickels
my eyes turned into stars

nothing is what it seems
nothing can sit still
nothing is forever
there's nothing in the will

i ran across the prairie
and stumbled to the coast
the water was like acid
i was the holy ghost

the tide was washing oysters
the sun was burning new
a woman held the answers
she gave me diamonds blue

nothing is what it seems
nothing can sit still
nothing is forever
there's nothing in the will

maybe in december
i will soar at night
the moon so cold and quiet
flying like a kite

my dreams are in the fire
burning memories of you
your hands rise from the embers
holding diamonds blue

nothing is what it seems
nothing can sit still
nothing is forever
there's nothing in the will

i had a dream of diamonds
blue and cut and bright
i carried them to denver
and lost them in a fight

i looked for them in memphis
and found them in a bar
my teeth turned into nickels
my eyes turned into stars

nothing is what it seems
nothing can sit still
nothing is forever
there's nothing in the will

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Image of entrance to Frank Lloyd Wright's Hollyhock House by mjs.

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Sunday, September 26, 2010

Partially Occluded View to a Steel Bridge



Image taken Saturday, September 25th, 2010 from east side of Willamette.

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Thursday, September 23, 2010

Goodbye to the Little Prince



they brought the toys for little boys
they brought the checkers and the sword
time for goodbyes, we don't know why
say goodbye to the Little Prince

in his ship he is a trip
making mischief on the seas, if you please
a pirate fierce, eyes that pierce
he is the captain of all that he sees
across the seven seas
say goodbye to the Little Prince

but how will i get home dear mother?
how will i grow to be old?
i will laugh and sing and plunder
hold me mother, i'm so cold
please hold me mother
please hold me mother

i will stand upon the deck
i will climb to the crow's nest
i will skirt the rocky shores
and still have time to do the chores
(please don't cry when i die
please don't cry don't ask me why)

i'll be a man, i'll rule the land
i will be strong and wise and fair
the day will come when i will run
i will fly into the air
(watch me go, spread my wings
see just what my talons bring)

but how will i get home dear mother?
how will i grow to be old?
i will laugh and sing and plunder
hold me mother, i'm so cold
please hold me mother
please hold me mother

a little prince waves goodbye
he can no longer tell you why
a little prince among the stars
building castles up on mars
now i lay me down to sleep
a little prince i pray to keep
a little prince i pray to keep
says goodbye

they brought the toys for little boys
they brought the checkers and the sword
time for goodbyes, we don't know why
say goodbye to the Little Prince

in his ship he is a trip
making mischief on the seas, if you please
a pirate fierce, eyes that pierce
he is the captain of all that he sees
across the seven seas
say goodbye to the Little Prince

but how will i get home dear mother?
how will i grow to be old?
i will laugh and sing and plunder
hold me mother, i'm so cold
please hold me mother
please hold me mother
(please don't cry when i die
please don't cry don't ask me why)

for peter

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Friday, September 17, 2010

The Opinuary Column



The Opinion "Masturbating while being a Republican* is wrong but permissible" has died. It's not permissible nor shall it be tolerated. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Republicans are no longer allowed to fantasize about the invisible hand of the free market creating a surge in profits, or issuing a steady stream of income. The Opinion has been around as long as privilege itself, the unfair tug of "Do me as I say, not as I don't do you" is a mantra that will be missed by many Republicans, those nasty, dirty little Onan bitches! Yeah, I'm talking about you, Santorum!

Should a Republican knowingly touch himself (as the General has pointed out numerous times women cannot masturbate because they have no little sailors in their boats)--anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, should a Republican touch himself with masturbatorial intentions then he should resign from the party immediately, and go live among the heathen, Darwinian chimpanzees who will surely spend eternity jerking in Hell. But don't visualize that, especially if you wish to remain a Republican. Just cleanse your mind, and seek help from another to assist you in serving penance. And take pictures too! Lots of pictures!

The Opinion was born of monied conservatives who were just as filthy and sinful as your garden variety commie-homo-hippy-sponge-tugger, only these leaders of the GOP hid their awful crimes so that their spiritual base, the Armies of God, were none the wiser. So good at not being the wiser their base shed any attempts at wisdom entirely, and were at last free from having even the smallest kernels of knowledge shoved down their throats. Even as the "troops in the field" did the hard work of directing their friends and neighbors to vote against their economic interests, it took the nascent Tea Party to shake the establishment out of its doldrums and squeeze out the last few drops of creative juice. While selfish Republican Party leaders were still whacking away with impunity (Note: if anyone finds a detachable orange dick running around please hold it for me--Boehner borrowed mine for a lobbying soiree and then claimed to have lost it at a tanning booth--yeah, right) the glorious masses stood erect without release, and then it was just boners, boners, boners all the way down.

Republican leaders owe it to their constituency to refrain from self-pleasure, to set an example, to boldly abstain where no one has abstained before! Republicans: Drop your worm, or get voted out next term!

A Memorial Service for the Opinion was held this morning--it was held, fondled, caressed, squeezed, stroked, teased, slapped and strangled until my body panicked and spit out a battalion of little soldiers, ready for Special Ops training until tragically vanishing down the drain. Sigh. In lieu of flowers I wouldn't mind some moist towelettes and a cigarette, it it's no trouble.

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*Democrats are free to whack away as is their habit, because they can't go to heaven anyway--just keep them away from the good linens.

The Opinuary Column appears most Fridays at Jesus' General.

Remember that Jesus loves you, but keep in mind that He also chastens those He loves.

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Sunday, September 12, 2010

The Unbearable Rightness of Chauncy



Chauncy on the Rocks

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Friday, September 10, 2010

American Blues



i got a busted wall for my movie queen
she is up against it, so obscene
she's a drag, a drag she is
coming down in the burning rain
i've got to get back to america
i've got to get a better haircut
i'm in a rut
a terrible rut
i just tut-tut-tut
i stagger down the hall
breaking into fall
i got a busted wall
i climb up it in a busted dream
gonna build me a mars, drink in government bars
but i hit my head and fell in bed
wake me up if you think i'm dead
a busted wall
a busted wall
that is all
that is all

i'm taking fluids from the jumping man
i'm making cocktails for a one night stand
i drink it up and hit my head
fall into bed
wake me up if you think i'm dead
if you think i'm dead

please, give me money for a news flash
dig into your pockets for some raw cash
lay it on me, help me please
i wanna get stoned and smoke cigarettes
get bent in two, puke on my shoes
here's the latest news:
everybody's gone, everybody's in the rapture
and i'm alone
in the great unknown
like a crazy crow at the end of the show
i just hang around for loose change
i just hang around on the free range
can't kick me out
i scream and shout
i'm all that's left of the whole shebang
get bent in two, puke on my shoes
here's the latest news:
i got american blues
american blues

i'm in a rut
a terrible rut
i just tut-tut-tut
i stagger down the hall
breaking into fall
i got a busted wall
i climb up it in a busted dream
gonna build me mars, drink in government bars
but i hit my head and fell in bed
wake me up if you think i'm dead
a busted wall
a busted wall
that is all
that is all

oh, wait for the shining lights
reach deep inside of the highest heights
flip and flop, twitch and jerk
god's got a taser and it hurts to work
i have to go
i have to leave
everything is burning me
i'm onto the parapet
this is the only castle i'll ever get
surrounded now
here they come
let them in
let the games begin
drinking my gin i get agitated
juniper berries are so wasted

i'm taking fluids from the jumping man
i'm making cocktails for a one night stand
i drink it up and hit my head
fall into bed
wake me up if you think i'm dead
if you think i'm dead

and i'm alone
in the great unknown
like a crazy crow at the end of the show
i just hang around for loose change
i just hang around on the free range
can't kick me out
i scream and shout
i'm all that's left of the whole shebang
get bent in two, puke on my shoes
here's the latest news:
i got american blues
i got american blues
i got american blues
i got american blues

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Thursday, September 09, 2010

The Opinuary Column



don't wait until it's over
obituary columns are filled with love
filled with love

Joan Armatrading


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Yeah, I know things are a mess, but don't forget to love. That's one skill we can't afford to lose.

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Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Wagon Dog Phil





Beautiful Labor Day in Portland--Phil got to ride in his wagon, go to the fountain, cross the Steel Bridge and just be a dog in a wagon.

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Thursday, September 02, 2010

The Opinuary Column



The Opinion "Sarah Palin would never bully or mock a man's penis in defiance of God's commandment that women be subservient to men (1 Corinth. 14:34 -- ...women... must be in submission... )" has died. The Opinion was two years of age at the time of its passing. Born in the musky, tundra veneris of the Great White North, the Opinion lived a quiet and respectable life among the wild orifices and quim bogs that dot the coastline of Real America, and enjoyed camping, fishing and hunting humpbacked whales with satellite-guided missiles.

Six months ago the Opinion was diagnosed with imasculata frittata, a rare and edible form of Word Cancer that spread to Sarah's hands before being smeared across her chops. First manifesting itself as schoolyard taunting it metastasized and spread throughout her entire vocabulary, a vocabulary believed to be as large as six hundred words (seven hundred if you include the numbers 600 thru 700) before coming to rest in her divinely appointed hooty-pie. The Opinion is survived by a conservative call to refrain from mono-pleaseistic sexual acts. Today's conservative must be potent and rigid, but for the lord's sake don't give in to the desire for self-managed orgasm! What's next? Electric cars? Sustainable farming? Besides, if you're like Sarah, you don't want to touch yourself down there--those ink stains are hard to get out!

In lieu of flowers...ah, fuck it. Give 'em flowers.

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