Posted by beckett2 on October 23, 2018, at 20:14:49
In reply to Re: Anthony Bourdain » beckett2, posted by sigismund on October 23, 2018, at 7:06:44
> That is odd. I actually read Cold Mountain 20 years ago and remember nothing. I do remember Roy Harper, one of the smartest kids on the block, who, like Lou Reed, was given ECT against his will for something or other. I thought he had the freshest perspective on this world ever. He strikes me as actually a real conservative, which is to say, cricket, ale, leave me alone, where's that joint, this place makes me feel like throwing up. Flat Baroque and Bezerk (sp?) is very good, as is HQ. Here are the words of The Game......
>
> There's an owl in the valley fixing his prey
> He's not counting the tally
> It's down to what comes up before the day
> And the trees in the orchard were taken from a narrow view of time
> Where the minds of the tortured perpetuated patron saints of crime
> Oh civilisation
>
> I can fit into your puzzle but it's hardly, hardly ever a hold
> And I'll tell you, yeah yeah, tell you the trouble
> The habits I've got are more than 10.000 years old
> And we cannot sell our souls to learning morals
> Big brother is no place for us to slide
> We cannot live by numbers or on laurels
> And hardly on how far from death we hide
>
> And it's not a case of rampant paranoia
> But just an age I'd love to see unborn
> Not that I'd be missing playing Goya
> More like I feel awkward passing on
> Civilisation, civilisation down to my children
> Without a question
>
> While the prophets of freedom, battery farming brains for narrow minds
> Have decided, yes they decided that meaning is far beyond the lives they left behind
> As two thirds of the population dine
> On scraps in shadow lengthening with time
> While propaganda spreads the same old theme
> You is me and we can change the game, b*llsh*t
>
>
> Oh but how many times have we written these lines
> And delivered these signs and not made it happen
> Walking the tightrope of taking our head off
> Losing the rhythm, idealising and all criticising
> And not realising that we've changed and left and we've gone
>
> And sad to be leaving the things we believe in but time has a way and we fly
> The next age is born and the old hands are gone and done in the wink of an eye
> No point in passing bad reason good guessing, no time for massing much more than can flourish with love
>
> And right now, my darling, I'm lying here dreaming of feeling, no daylight between us
> So wherever you are and whenever I'm there is someplace we've got to be ours
> Can we right-heartedly stand in this light and see what might turn out to be crazy enough, enough to be we ?
>
> When we've had a past sad enough to last for sometime into the future
> These storms have torn and true love is alone and the past is almost a failure
> Consciences burn in the programme turn, computing the social behaviour
> But yoke revolts, the foundation bolts and cries for yet another saviour
>
> And I'd pack my things on a pair of wings and tomorrow I'd be parting
> With the summer birds and the winter herds for a place to face a new heart in
> But it makes no difference, where I am I'm in the game first hand
> There are no certain answers and no time to understand
> The rules are set to paradox, coercion and blind faith
> The goal's a changing paradise, a moment out of date
> The dream is righteous grandeur fit to flood the universe
> The fact is more than meets the eye but less than runs the earth, running the earth
>
>
> And the prisoner of the present paces up and down inside his cell
> He's the living replacement, somersaulting from this psychic well
> Screaming : 'I'm the sponsor of a hell'
> Voices like the sea inside a shell
> Telling me I cannot stake a claim
> Possession is a clue but not the game
> So please leave this world as clean as when you came
>
> So please leave this world as clean as when you came
> Please leave this world as clean as when you came
> Please leave this world as clean as when you came
> Please leave this world as clean as when you cameThis brings to mind the bitterness I've spoken of because I feel no matter how carefully I clean my feet, I'm tracking some sh*t into the house. I've used bitterness as a way to staunch the sadness and despair.
After Kavanaugh I was able to go into my studio for the first time really since the election. Where there is no joy, there is no courage. Something like that. Where did I read that?
The world is complicated. I find myself thinking, so glad my father isn't alive to see this.
poster:beckett2
thread:1101042
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/poli/20180816/msgs/1101535.html