Saturday, September 3, 2022

Oh The Things . . .


There’s a boy in a room.
It’s a cavernous room,
With the walls all festooned
With the likenesses of
Sincere and humble, pious faces.

The eyes were watching,
Intently so.
Suspiciously watching,
But they weren’t the eyes
Of some omniscient, single, potent being.
They were the eyes of my fellow man,
And oh the things they did see.

By design or by fate,
From the boy grew the man,
And believing in magic,
Drew his comfort from what 
They called his deep faith
And perseverance.

All those around him
And the vast majority believed
In it too,
So much resembling dependent infancy 
I shudder. Shudder!

As a product of his time,
And of nurture through the years,
He pushed on where his intellect
Showed him how to proceed
Without any invasive deities.



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Friday, September 2, 2022

More Prescience . . .

(from Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand)
". . . ". . . And you have always been first to believe that the public does not think." He paused, but Dr. Stadler said nothing. "This book may have no philosophical value whatever, but it has a great psychological value." "Just what is that?" "You see, Dr. Stadler, people don't want to think. And the deeper they get into trouble, the less they want to think. But by some sort of instinct, they feel that they ought to and it makes them feel guilty. So they'll bless and follow anyone who give them a justification for not thinking. Anyone who makes a virtue - a highly intellectual virtue - out of what they know to be their sin, their weakness and their guilt." . . . "



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Thursday, September 1, 2022

Black & White . . .

Nothing in life is strictly black or white.  It's the shades that make it all so interesting. This song appears on the album Black & White Then Back but was actually written about 1993 with three, very special, little men in mind. It even has lyrics.


Innocence and wisdom coexist inside their minds,
Together with appreciation for the things we miss
In our haste and our big business.
Always in awe of the wheels spinning round
And a laugh for the foolish things big men do.

The poet said, 'Trailing clouds of glory 
We come and we go.'
What do we really know?
Smiling so brightly 
Betraying the years 
They have yet to try.
Those little men 
With that glory;
Riddles and bedtime stories;
Little men with that glory 
In their eyes.

Everybody thinks about the world and what the future brings.
Who really knows the plan and all its subtleties?
We're really smart, at least that's what we think.
Going our own way in blissful retreat
From the prospect of seeing things too clearly.



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Wednesday, August 31, 2022

What Is And Is Not . . .


(from https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/trump-mar-a-lago-search-justified)
". . . The truth needs to be set forth plainly and simply, and so let’s get down to brass tacks here. What happened on August 8, 2022, was not tyranny. It was not political persecution. It was not a minor dust up over bureaucratic processes blown out of proportion. It was the criminal justice system operating just like it does with any other private citizen on any other given day ending in a "y." . . . Trump was the president and commander-in-chief up until noon on January 20, 2021. The moment Joe Biden took the Oath of Office, Trump became just another private citizen in his 70s who vacations in Florida during the winter months to avoid the bitter cold back in his native home in the Northeast. He was no longer shielded by any privileges or protections of the Office of the Presidency at the point beyond physical security protection. He is subject to the laws of the United States just like anyone else. . ."


I'm Not Like Everybody Else

- The Kinks



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Tuesday, August 30, 2022

Token . . .

 





 If you're into that kinda' thing . . . 
A music NFT (non-fungible token).   Own this one-of-a-kind document of one step in the process of the creation of my latest album 'Grains' - if you dare!   MWAH, HA HA HA HA!





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Monday, August 29, 2022

Complacency . . .

It won’t happen.
Turmoil’s not round the bend for us.
All controls are in place;
Neat in their space
See the keeper’s
Keeping vigilant watch
Through a window obscured.
This I assure.
It just can’t
Happen here.
No one saw it 
Sneaking up round the corner. Was
Like a thief in the night
Without a fight.
Quite the artist.
Candy-coating what he’s saying
For his own selfish means. 
That’s how he leans.
Advocate progressive-sounding ideas.
Tell the people what they want to hear.
There’s no hiding
Dissatisfaction you feel. 
Keeps on burning inside.
Still you abide.


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Sunday, August 28, 2022

Maybe . . .

. . . everything is really NOT about you!

From Wikipedia The Evil Queen in front of the Mirror. Illustration by 
John Batten for Joseph Jacobs's Europa's Fairy Book (1916).

Every hair on your head
Has got to be in place
For the camera.
Every place you happen to be
The people stare.

You are not the main attraction.
You are not the main attraction.
You are not the main attraction,
But oh,
How you wanted to be.

Don't equate each little thing
That happened in the past
To the present.
Don't expect each person to see
The things you see.

Do you ever think of anyone else?
Does concern come crossing your mind?
There's enough conceit under your own belt
To last a lifetime.

If your dream should ever come true,
I'll see that spiteful face
On the cover
Of a tabloid where the headline reads
'She wants to be . . . '



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