Yanni for prez, he’ll get things done!
Schmaltzy, kitschy, overinflated, bombastic new age music in the white house! Things couldn’t get any worse, right? Right? Then again, they could.
Bad god, cleaner ass, aren’t you bob? sooper dooper national barbie month. Well, gotta blow…..
Back to that palindrome of mine
Next to India Pale Ales, Bob is my sanctuary. In him I am made whole, or at least less full of malaise. He is the foundation of my frop and my so very dear and precious SLACK. Lately Bob has been showing me that I’ve watched enough movies in my life. Seems every flick the wife and I try to watch ends up boring us within fifteen minutes, sometimes sooner than that. Maybe I’ve just seen so many damned movies in my life that there’s nothing new anymore. I’ve seen all the plotlines, the fucking with time techniques, the clever camera angles, it’s all so predictable. So banal. I was tempted to perform a mass delete of all the videos on the hard drive but wife said no, just don’t download anything else. Good advice.
Thank you Bob, for the zen kick in the ass. Now I can get on with some possibly creative activity. Or insouciant vegetation.
Gravity Challenged Albert
The late irrepressible Bill Hicks called it “Fevered ego syndrome.” Actually, I added the ‘syndrome’. Situations arise in popular media where “celebrities” become so utterly full of themselves that they began spewing complete bullshit about sociological and psychological and even religious issues. Two “celebrity” sickies come to mind: Bill Cosby and Kirk Cameron. Besides the age differences between these two borderline membots, their spewage is relatively similar. However, the former was actually somewhat amusing at one point in his career, the days of “why is there air?” and “street football.” That’s some admittedly funny shit. But keeping it real, as they say, whoever they are, whoever “they” you want them to be, Mr. Cosby ain’t been funny in probably 40 years. And shilling for pudding pops doesn’t add much credibility to the Cos. As for Cameron, well residing on a shitty little sit-com for a number of years and “acting” in a number of forgettable potboiler movies doesn’t make one a comedic genius. Maybe he still has some “heart throb” status which helps him to get starry eyed pubescent girls and boys to commit to a neo-guilt hyper fringe of Christianity. More to the point: both these fevered egos are “entertainers.” In slightly more medieval times they would have been court jesters or resident fools, performing for their very lives. Both would doubtless have been quickly beheaded I’m sure. Cosby might have fared longer than Cameron, though the King would no doubt get bored quickly with the Fat Albert stories. Now, however, in our more enlightened age, if you lose your head metaphorically speaking, in the public eye you get exposure. A soap box. Hypocrisy doesn’t get any more convenient, or any more annoying.
Vapor Trail
…and Thursday’s oh so sad…
The moon is blood orange today. It hangeth up there in the wispy firmament, bleeding. The cows will have to take a night off from jumping over it.
Most of the cuts today are prime lib extracted from old Twilight Zone episodes. Submitted for your perusal….
WASF!
Wednesdays is worse…..
I’ve created a new acronym: WASF! Well, it may not be new, but it’s new to me, or for me. What does it mean? Just this:
We Are So Fucked !
Who are we kidding? Look around. The inmates are running the asylum and the media is cheerleading the whole farce into some kind of tragic culmination. Enjoy breathing while you can. Just some cheerful news for your happy hump-day.
Lunatic fringe benefits, a tour through Slack Museum, a pounding, raving Raga with Heavyconfetti guitars, and dick lied to me. Sweet, bitter India Pale Ale eases the pain…..
Spermons par excellence!
When it comes to Haggards, I prefer mine to be named Merle, and singy twangy country angst or bliss ditties alternately. But that’s either here or there, so we won’t touch that.
Today’s spermons were almost classics in their original form; thanks to the chaps over at WMFU for the source material. They do come up with some doozies that are just too tempting to not wanna cut up.
Hot Theology
Arnold Palmer on fire? Arnold Palmer as putative pompous pontiff? Other questions: why is Bill Maher so resistant to examining in detail all the compelling evidence that the twin towers were brought down by controlled demolition? Why doesn’t he have a little “special” show where he invites reputable scientists and architects (both pro and con) with whom he could engage in an intelligent debate? Otherwise he’s just another smarmy narcissistic “entertainer.” Methinks he doth protest too much against real examination into things. Bottom line: he be a democratic party wonk, more or less, and a closet populist. Granted, the recent crop of hecklers in the audience screaming out incoherent rants don’t give much credibility to an issue that really needs to be “officially” scrutinized.
Question: how does Harry Shearer do such a spot-on impersonation of Bill O’reilly?
Big fish, little pond, redux
When I rendered the original “big fish…” mix, I accidentally cut it at 28 seconds, when the piece is really about a minute and some change. So here is the full version, the non-truncated edition.
I often take a mini voice recorder around with me in case I get some idea I don’t want to lose and writing isn’t convenient. I usually blurt the idea into the recorder and hopefully remember to check the motif out later; I never plan to “publish” these raw cuts, but I found myself amused by a few of them lately in their “pre-mix” form and thought I’d put ‘em on the site.
something mold, something spew
Drive-by spewings created with my little digital mini recorder; hard core porn and the beatles getting bettah and yet another spermon. I actually sing on a couple of these lo-fi renderings; a version of Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls” done to a vapid smooth jazz vamp. Maybe ya had to be there…..
all messed up
All messed up with your short eyes wide shut, disney in his cryogenic deep freeze dreaming of exploiting more children, warping their minds to the tune of still further profits, ripping gas in the little chamber, sbds, but go a little further with me and speak with tongues of fire, or at least impassioned gibberish, swallow the idiot bugs and listen to hell while we strengthen democracy by lengthening fascism and paranoia’s grip over the nation.
Hey, lighten up. TGIF!
Filthy, dirty nation of bastards
And alas, I’m one. As must be pundit/insulated/goober Tucker Carlson. Who hired this pathetic Dan Quayle wannabe? Instead of hosting an infotainment show, why isn’t he flipping burgers at the McDonalds in the nearest WalMart? Ann Coulter could certainly join him, maybe work the fry bin if she could handle it. Bill O’reilly could clean out the grease traps. And he’d have to do a good job!
Endless celestial sex
Everybody wants some. How ’bout you? The afterlife, according to most religious fantasies is the great equalizer, where we all get to float around and become enmeshed in a continual ethereal cluster-fuck. Of course, some more puritanical imaginations envision an interminable existence in a kind of Leave it to Beaver (or is that Leave it to Believer?) episode, where Ward is never again hard on the Beaver and gee whiz Wally even gets to second base, or free base, or whatever. Make up your own scenario! My phantasy is to drink India Pale Ale on and on and listen to the Swinging Love Corpses and Keith Jarrett, among others (damn I love me some Keith Jarrett, especially when he takes them old standards for a beautiful spin, shimmering motifs and grunts and all). We all know where Nitwit Realmnee wants to go….
and and and
…Just fer fun, don’t cha know?
Jimmy: What do you call yourselves?
Derek: “And And And.”
Jimmy: “And And fuckin’ And?”
Derek: Well, Ray’s thinking of putting an exclamation mark after the second “and.” Says it’d look deadly on the posters.
Jimmy: Psshh…
Outspan: You don’t like it? You think it should go at the end?
Jimmy: I think it should go up his arse.
Outspan: Well, we’re not married to it.
Is the gub’ments torturing?
So says a completely SFW Miss X; and she oughta know. Torture? No. We call it “technique.” It’s not a bug, it’s a feature!
Classical Mash
What do you get when you mesh Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Vivaldi and Pachelbel all at the same time? Something like this. That is, below, you know, where the little flash player eagerly awaits your mouse click. Also, bonus track of petroleum broadcasting pundits punditting on brother Clarence, now sexually harassing cows apparently, in supreme discomfort. I suspect the displeasure is all ours… Your mileage, as always, will vary.
HeavyConfetti
- Latcho Drom August 29, 2010
- Track Listing for “The State of Things” Album August 21, 2010
- Changes, future August 17, 2010
- The State of the State of Things June 21, 2010
- Working Three Tracks June 12, 2010
- the state of things without and around us June 8, 2010
- Long time no post…Three cuts from Phronemophobia April 17, 2010
- Kill Television! December 24, 2009
- The Cut of Your Gib October 25, 2009
- Don’t Blame Me October 25, 2009
AB
