image dump (warning: disturbing/annoying objects present)

Moderators: Elvis, DrVolin, Jeff

do you like polls?

yes
8
28%
no
2
7%
indifferent
8
28%
who the &^%! are you?
11
38%
 
Total votes : 29

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

Postby OP ED » Fri Jan 02, 2009 6:11 am

Theyre selling postcards of the hanging
Theyre painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
Theyve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad theyre restless
They need somewhere to go
As lady and I look out tonight
From desolation row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
It takes one to know one, she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette davis style
And in comes romeo, hes moaning
You belong to me I believe
And someone says, youre in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave
And the only sound thats left
After the ambulances go
Is cinderella sweeping up
On desolation row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for cain and abel
And the hunchback of notre dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the good samaritan, hes dressing
Hes getting ready for the show
Hes going to the carnival tonight
On desolation row

Now ophelia, shes neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her professions her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noahs great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into desolation row

Einstein, disguised as robin hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On desolation row

Dr. filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
Theyre trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
Shes in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
Have mercy on his soul
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From desolation row

Across the street theyve nailed the curtains
Theyre getting ready for the feast
The phantom of the opera
A perfect image of a priest
Theyre spoonfeeding casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then theyll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words

And the phantoms shouting to skinny girls
Get outa here if you dont know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To desolation row

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To desolation row

Praise be to neros neptune
The titanic sails at dawn
And everybodys shouting
Which side are you on?
And ezra pound and t. s. eliot
Fighting in the captains tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About desolation row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(about the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, theyre quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I cant read too good
Dont send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From desolation row

(Bob Dylan, obviously)
User avatar
OP ED
 
Posts: 4673
Joined: Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:04 pm
Location: Detroit
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Fri Jan 02, 2009 7:05 am

Back when I had self discipline and trained lots I used to do a particularly hard horse riding type chi kung stance to that song, and always try to further into the song than last time. I never made it to the end, learned to stop just before I fell over, but spoonfeeding casanova was about as far as I got.
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Perelandra » Fri Jan 02, 2009 3:26 pm

Image
Image
User avatar
Perelandra
 
Posts: 1648
Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2008 7:12 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Perelandra » Sat Jan 03, 2009 3:07 am

Early one mornin' the sun was shinin',
I was layin' in bed
Wond'rin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type."
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue.

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue.

So now I'm goin' back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives.
Don't know how it all got started,
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives.
But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.
User avatar
Perelandra
 
Posts: 1648
Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2008 7:12 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

joni mitchell (yeah i know)

Postby OP ED » Sat Jan 03, 2009 3:51 am

Blue, songs are like tattoos
You know Ive been to sea before
Crown and anchor me
Or let me sail away
Hey blue, here is a song for you
Ink on a pin
Underneath the skin
An empty space to fill in
Well there're so many sinking now
You've got to keep thinking
You can make it thru these waves
Acid, booze, and ass
Needles, guns, and grass
Lots of laughs, lots of laughs
Everybodys saying that hells the hippest way to go
Well I dont think so
But I'm gonna take a look around it though
Blue, I love you

Blue, here is a shell for you
Inside youll hear a sigh
A foggy lullaby
There is your song from me
User avatar
OP ED
 
Posts: 4673
Joined: Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:04 pm
Location: Detroit
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sat Jan 03, 2009 4:33 am

Standing in a bright lit room
strangers all around me
To the spot my feet were glued
before the Lac d'Annecy

I walked around then I came back
and stood there lost in wonder
Nothing else there could attract
the rest were only pictures

So blue, so blue, so blue

I waited on a cold highway
throwing stones and singing
A man he took me all the way
right through to Central Station

Where have you been? he said to me
I've been down to the gallery
What did you see? he said to me
I saw the Lac d'Annecy

And it was so blue, so blue, so blue

Now colour constructs every line
and the more every link is made fine
the stronger the net will be
Every day he left his wife
to wrestle with his lover
A hundred ways Mont St. Victoire
and each time starting over

Now Pablo's work was child's play
and Henri did it faster
But the slow old grizzly bear
was their only master

So blue, so blue, so blue
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Perelandra » Sat Jan 03, 2009 1:43 pm

Looks like a nice song, Joe. What is it?
User avatar
Perelandra
 
Posts: 1648
Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2008 7:12 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

OP ED's power word of the day

Postby OP ED » Sun Jan 04, 2009 4:28 pm

for invisibility. (on a paper plate that cakes of light left crumbs on)

Image

because i'm traveling home today and intend to smoke dope on every highway in ohio.

special thanks to Sally for dedicated bioelectrical assistances.
User avatar
OP ED
 
Posts: 4673
Joined: Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:04 pm
Location: Detroit
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby OP ED » Sun Jan 04, 2009 4:32 pm

Perelandra wrote:Looks like a nice song, Joe. What is it?


Paul Kelly. (and the colored girls, right?)

"so blue"

i know i'm not Joe, but i could answer the question, so i did.
User avatar
OP ED
 
Posts: 4673
Joined: Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:04 pm
Location: Detroit
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:06 pm

Thats right OP ED. (Perelandra, I was drunk last night, missed your question.) Paul Kelly is one of my favorit all time songwriters. He is uniquely Australian, a national treasure and a legend in his own time.

He wrote another song about blueness, and again its probably not got a video (Haven't we got a video?), bit more depressing tho.

That song is about hitch hiking from Sydnet to the National Gallery in Canberra to look at a Cezanne painting.

There's also a song in the free ass thread by him, with a homemade video. Its about backpacking through Europe. Its called Every Fucking City:

Foolishly I followed you to Dublin
Like a ghost I walked the streets of Temple Bar
And all the bright young things were throwing up their Guinness in the gutters
And once I thought I saw you from afar
Now I'm in a nightclub in Helsinki
And they're playing La Vida Loca once again
And I can't believe I'm dancing to this crap but I'm a chance here
Yeah, every fucking city sounds the same


The mans a poet worthy of any, from anywhere, over the centuries.

This is advice to anyone anywhere in the world, well any male anyway:

Little boy you look so clear around the eyes
And what they've got in store for you
you may not realise
So be careful when you hear the voices call
Watch out little boy don't lose your balls

'Cause you never know the rules until you play
First they stroke you then they screw you,
try to take your balls away
And once they've gone they're way beyond recall
Watch out little boy don't lose your balls

Balls run wild
Balls may get way out of line
You may not even know you've
left your balls way behind

You know money only buys you what you want
And you can't buy your balls back
like you buy a pair of pants
And once they're gone you've really got fuck all
Watch out little boy don't lose your balls
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:10 pm

More Paul kelly lyrics:

Here comes the one that I adore
Glory Be To God
And I'm the one she's come here for
Glory Be To God
Throws her arms around my neck
Oh Glory Be To God
Preses in against my chest
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be Glory Be To God

She's got a smile to change the sun
Glory Be To God
Undoes her buttons one by one
Glory Be To God
On my knees before her splendor
Glory Be To God
She knows she's a natural wonder
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be Glory Be To God

Her eyes closed and just above me
Glory Be To God
We both start shaking like a leaf on a tree
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be To God
Glory Be Glory Be To God

Glory Be To God
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:21 pm

This song was a prophecy:

When he performed it at the National Reconcilliation Conference in 97, everyone who saw it wept. That was the one where former PM John Howard came on stage to talk to indigenous leaders from around the country, and a host of non indigenous people who worked hard for justice, and ended up yelling and screaming and shaking his fists at the crowd. Who stood up and silently turned their backs on him. How he lasted 10 years as PM after that disgraceful day is beyond me.

I'm so afraid for my country
There's an ill wind blowing no good
So many lies in the name of history
They won't improve my neighbourhood

I'm so worried about my brother
He just gets sadder every day
We gotta take care of each other
Or else we're gonna have to pay

In the land of the little kings
There's a price on everything
And everywhere the little kings
Are getting away with murder

I was born in a lucky country
Every day I hear the warning bells
They're so busy building palaces
They don't see the poison in the wells

In the land of the little kings
Profit is the only thing
And everywhere the little kings
Are getting away with murder

In the land of the little kings
Justice don't mean anything
And everywhere the little kings
Are getting away with murder
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:39 pm

The story of the wave hill walkout, one of the most important events in the history of indigenous people fighting for their rights in Australia and worldwide - Vincent Lingiarri, and the Gurindji people, his people. This strike helped start the land rights movement in Australia, and therefore in the world, cos among other things, it led to the Mabo decision of 92, eventually.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gurindji_strike (That wikipedia entry is actually pretty good and comprehensive.)

Paul Kelly wrote this song with Kev Carmody, a Murri man from Cairns who is also an amazing songwriter and singer. (He even wrote a song about a dope plant some blackfellas in the territory grew, that got a mile high caught fire and mellowed out the whole world.)

Kev Carmody is also an amazing man and a true gentleman, with a real sense of compassion and a great sense of humour.

Gather round people let me tell you're a story
An eight year long story of power and pride
British Lord Vestey and Vincent Lingiarri
Were opposite men on opposite sides

Vestey was fat with money and muscle
Beef was his business, broad was his door
Vincent was lean and spoke very little
He had no bank balance, hard dirt was his floor

From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow

Gurindji were working for nothing but rations
Where once they had gathered the wealth of the land
Daily the pressure got tighter and tighter
Gurindju decided they must make a stand

They picked up their swags and started off walking
At Wattie Creek they sat themselves down
Now it don't sound like much but it sure got tongues talking
Back at the homestead and then in the town

From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow

Vestey man said I'll double your wages
Seven quid a week you'll have in your hand
Vincent said uhuh we're not talking about wages
We're sitting right here till we get our land
Vestey man roared and Vestey man thundered
You don't stand the chance of a cinder in snow
Vince said if we fall others are rising

From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow

Then Vincent Lingiarri boarded an aeroplane
Landed in Sydney, big city of lights
And daily he went round softly speaking his story
To all kinds of men from all walks of life

And Vincent sat down with big politicians
This affair they told him is a matter of state
Let us sort it out, your people are hungry
Vincent said no thanks, we know how to wait

From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow

Then Vincent Lingiarri returned in an aeroplane
Back to his country once more to sit down
And he told his people let the stars keep on turning
We have friends in the south, in the cities and towns

Eight years went by, eight long years of waiting
Till one day a tall stranger appeared in the land
And he came with lawyers and he came with great ceremony
And through Vincent's fingers poured a handful of sand

From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow

That was the story of Vincent Lingairri
But this is the story of something much more
How power and privilege can not move a people
Who know where they stand and stand in their law

From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:42 pm

One more

Since that Dylan song got me going on this, this is words and music, where he tries to capture why he writes songs:

I was standing in the schoolyard
I guess it was sometime in 1965
Just me and my friends listening to the radio
And a song came on called I feel fine
The playground sounds grew dim
The whole wide world seemed to fade
There was nothing but me and that heavenly sound
Burning in my brain
Words and Music - yeah, yeah

I was lying on the living room floor
With the sound way up on Highway 61
Then I heard my mother calling thorugh the door
Saying, "Now, what about those dishes then, son?"
So I picked the needle up
And yelled out, '"Just one more song to go"
Then I put the needle back down
At the start of Desolation Row
Words and Music - yeah, yeah

Now two things saved that crazy sailor
Trapped for days inside his hull
No food, no water, no nothing
Just his tongue rattling around inside his skull
Words and Music - yeah, yeah
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:50 pm

Ok one more, just for you OP ED

It was just a quarter mile
To your house in Kensington
It was always 95 degrees
(Hey Julie)

Walking to the swimming pool
February back to school
All that summer you were cool
(Hey Julie)

I'm standing on the street of early sorrows

You never know just what you've lost
Until it's yours and then it's dust
But you remain and never rust
(Hey Julie)

I'm standing on the street of early sorrows
Joe Hillshoist
 
Posts: 10622
Joined: Mon Jun 12, 2006 10:45 pm
Blog: View Blog (0)

PreviousNext

Return to Data & Research Compilations

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests