..And on another note entirely

Mike has come through the fire mostly intact, it would seem, and singing that song of his that I’ve so grown to love. You’re an inspiration to me, you beautiful, long-winded bastard, you. If I have to hunt you down and kill you, like the buddha, it will be out of pure love. This one’s for you. Welcome back, my friend.

Shriekback – Gunning for the Buddha
Mark and Danny in the Greek Hotel
Bold as badgers on a one-take Mission
Got their equipment from a dwarf outside
On the trail of any suspect wisdom
Pond-Life beneath a Southern sky
(They make their move then they head off to the border)
They don’t care as long as you can pay –
Whatever – whatever they say
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
We know his name and he mustn’t get away
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
It would take one shot – to blow him away…
Now’s the time to have some big ideas
Now’s the time to make some firm decisions
We saw the Buddha in a bar down south
Talking politics and nuclear fission
We see him and he’s all washed up –
Moving on into the body of a beetle
Getting ready for a long long crawl
He ain’t nothing – he ain’t nothing at all…
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
We know his name and he mustn’t get away
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
It would take one shot – to blow him away…
Death and Money make their point once more
In the shape of Philosophical assassins
Mark and Danny take the bus uptown
Deadly angels for reality and passion
Have the courage of the here and now
Don’t take nothing from these ½-baked buddhas
When you think you got it paid in full
You got nothing – you got nothing at all…
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
We know his name and he mustn’t get away
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
It would take one shot…
Oh… we’re gunning for the Buddha
We know his name and he mustn’t get away
We’re on the road and we’re gunning for the Buddha
Saying something, saying something unsafe
We’re on the road
Oh… we’re gunning for the Buddha
(Yeah, Yeah)
We’re on the road
You know we’re gunning for the Buddha
You see him blow right there
We’re on the road
We’re gunning, we’re gunning,
We’re gunning on the road
We’re gunning, we’re gunning
We’re gunning for the Buddha

Moonshiner (traditional)

I’ve been a moonshiner
For seventeen long years
And I spent all my money
On whiskey and beer
And I go to some hollow
And set up my still
If whiskey don’t kill me
Lord, I don’t know what will
And I go to some barroom
To drink with my friends
Where the women they can’t follow
To see what I spend
God bless them pretty women
I wish they was mine
With breath as sweet as
The dew on the vine
Let me eat when I’m hungry
Let me drink when I’m dry
Two dollars when I’m hard up
Religion when I die
The whole world is a bottle
And life is but a dram
When the bottle gets empty
Lord, it sure ain’t worth a damn

Help Save The Youth Of America

Help save the youth of America
Help save them from themselves
Help save the sun-tanned surfer boys
And the Californian girls
When the lights go out in the rest of the World
What do our cousins say
They’re playing in the sun and having fun, fun, fun
Till Daddy takes the gun away
From the Big Church to the Big River
And out to the Shining Sea
This is the Land of Opportunity
And there’s a Monkey Trial on TV
A nation with their freezers full
Are dancing in their seats
While outside another nation
Is sleeping in the streets
Don’t tell me the old, old story
Tell me the truth this time
Is the Man in the Mask or the Indian
An enemy or a friend of mine
Help save the youth of America
Help save the youth of the world
Help save the boys in uniform
Their mothers and their faithful girls
Listen to the voice of the soldier
Down in the killing zone
Talking about the cost of living
And the price of bringing him home
They’re already shipping the body bags
Down by the Rio Grande
But you can fight for democracy at home
And not in some foreign land
And the fate of the great United States
Is entwined in the fate of us all
And the incident at Tschernobyl proves
The world we live in is very small
And the cities of Europe have burned before
And they may yet burn again
And if they do I hope you understand
That Washington will burn with them
Omaha will burn with them
Los Alamos will burn with them

Billy Bragg

What is Fnord?

People (most of whom I dislike, on principle. No, really.) do tend to pooh-pooh Discordianism, and The Church of the Subgenius, and all that fincantabulous hooey. I say let ’em!
That reminds me of a song….

this is your life this is your life this is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time. you are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. you are the same decaying organic matter as everything else. we are all a part of the same compost heap, we are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. you are not your bank account, you are not the clothes you wear. you are not the contents of your wallet. you are not your bowel cancer. you are not your grande latte. you are not the car you drive. you are not your f–king khakis. you have to give up, you have to give up. you have to realize that someday you will die, until you know that you are useless. I say let me never be complete. I say may I never be content. I say deliver me from swedish furniture! I say deliver me from clever art. I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth. I say you have to give up. I say evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.

Of course, I didn’t actually say any of that funky sh-t, Chuck Palahniuk did. Or rather, Brad Pitt did, which proves to me at least that he may be a Hollywood pretty boy, go-ash darn it, but he’s no dumm-eh!
That’s an entirely different set of flatware, Sherlock! What I originally mean to say before this all went sideways on me (how the hell did that happen?) was that memepool had a Hail Eris comma Subgenius slash Bob Dobbs post recently (†), and fnord is still amusing to me, even though I am not sixteen any longer (despite the undeniable fact that I’ve still got an unreasonably large number of zits and a tendency to shout things like “Rock and Roll!” in an embarrassingly Wayne’s World sort of way when I hear powerchords or cowbells).
You got a problem with that?

…They hung a sign up

…They hung a sign up in out town
“if you live it up, you won’t
live it down”
So, she left Monte Rio, son
Just like a bullet leaves a gun
With charcoal eyes and Monroe hips
She went and took that California trip
Well, the moon was gold, her
Hair like wind
She said don’t look back just
Come on Jim
Oh you got to
Hold on, Hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here
You gotta hold on

– Hold On – Tom Waits

Everything is bleak.

Everything is bleak.
It’s the middle of the night.
You’re all alone and
the dummies might be right.
You feel like a jerk.
My music at work.
My music at work.
– My Music At Work – The Tragically Hip