EDIT: This post was to be posted yesterday, but I slept after I feasted, instead…D’oh!
Nazz? Where are ya buddy, gimmie a holler…
Not a big fan of the Thanksgiving myth, but I do believe that on a daily basis we need to be thankful…food, shelter, friendships and loved ones…something. Of course, my often negative nature (I’m trying man!) reminds me that it’s very possible that there are folks that would have a difficult time being thankful for anything. How would you like them apples? A suggested read, How to not die this Thanksgiving, as we prepare to gorge ourselves (except maybe those folks who have absolutely nothing for which to be thankful). I personally will be driving through a light snow storm to get to where I will gluttonize…
Let’s start this post out with some Crass wisdom for the day…
You have this life, what for? Tell me.
Spend it on shit, your ignorance appalls me.
You serve me your morals, changed for a fiver,
Upright citizen, Penthouse subscriber.
You won’t print the word, but you’ll beat up the wife,
In your ignorant, arrogant, terminal life.
You have this life, you deprive me of mine,
With your twisted, imbalanced idea of sin.
That revolves around money; how much are you bought for?
A tenner, a fiver, is that what you’re caught for?
I’m sick of your pride, you think you can rule me,
With crappy judgements from your respectable majority.
Majority of what? You self oppressed idiot,
I’m not going to carry you, I’m no compatriot.
How many times do I excuse and forgive
The damage inflicted by the way that you live?
I hold my vision against your aggression,
Your final defense, your only possession.
I’ll show you the blood, but you’ll still point the gun,
If the money’s enough, or can you show you’re a man?
To your submissive wife, desperate whore,
Home loving, mothering, stifling bore.
You have this life, you twist and abuse it,
Morals and money and media controls it.
Can’t you see the dead children, blood in the street?
Every fist that you raise is a corpse at your feet.
Every time you are bought, I don’t care the amount,
You are the rapist, dealing in death count.
And you do this with mercenary morals, you shit,
Oh, you’ve been told about dignity down in the pit.
Respectable working man, honorable wife?
A waste of energy and an insult to life.
Just my two cents, the choices we are presented with are sometimes difficult and like water, human nature may be to take the path of least resistance (which seems like it eventually turns into the path of most resistance, in my experience).
Pete Wright, the bass player and singer on a few tunes, including the one above. Was wondering what he did after Crass and came up with this trippy tune he did…
Did some more searching and came up with a whole album’s worth of material with Martin Wilson of Flux Of Pink Indians doing percussion. Pretty crazy stuff, like if Syd Barrett had been in Crass…hahahaha (I’m getting lame at being able to describe some of the wild shit there is to listen to out there…
An old GIF I made several years ago, that I (may) have never posted. After seeing my Bro Big Shawn up in the Fargo area, while kicking it at his spread and spending time with him and his wonderful wife Heather, I was reminded in conversation of one of the finest movies ever made, top notch in it’s genre. Anybody have any favorites…the One Armed Boxer?
Whilst looking for Judas II on fucking youtube I happed to run across a page for an author/professor that I’ve read before, Bart Ehrman. Dude is heavy as fuck on Christianity, if’n you’re keen on early Christian history, like I am, you might check out his lectures and debates. I wanted to be a Professor of Religion or at least get my masters so I could be a lecturer, but circumstances got in the way of that. The main hurdle was the fact that I did not take college as seriously as I did doing large amounts of drugs/liquor and generally partying pretty fucking hard for 6 years. The outcome of that was a low B/high C average GPA, around 2.8. The only bright side was that my GRE scores were pretty decent, not great but not horrid like my performance in school half the time. Well, yours truly got married in 1994 to his Venezuelan princess and after the most amazing trip of my life (a story in itself), in her homeland, we settled in San Diego because that’s where she was from and her Mom lived. San Diego State University happens to have a nice masters/doctoral program, so I was cool with the move career wise. Whelp, that low GPA of mine came back to bite me in the shit hole, as the program at SDSU was seriously impacted to the point where they weren’t taking anyone below a 3.25 GPA. So the two years I applied, I received the short but not so sweet letter denying me admission. Thus began a spiral that had it’s roots in my genes, was sown throughout my youth and reaped in the late 90s…a dismal harvest indeed.
Liam’s birth was the only thing good and lasting to have come out of my San Diego experience. I’d like to think that no matter what choices I made or should have made, have no bearing on whether or not he was going to be a part of my life…his soul is connected to mine. Here’s my boy Liam with his gal Nicole in the great state of North Carolina (been there twice and both times it didn’t suck…Liam’s graduation and fucking Weedeater). I mentioned it a post or two ago, that I didn’t know what I had to offer my Son, so I found this song by one of my top five acts…
This is the sum total of all my relationships…not right!
…and finally from my pal Björn…my caption of the vid, “Several month’s worth of me harassing my good pal Björn in Sweden via WhatsApp…thanx buddy for compiling it! The clip is from Frank Black’s second solo album, Teenager of the Year and the song is, I Wanna Live on an Abstract Plain (All rights to him).”