.'Pure logic is the ruin of the spirit.'

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

 

"The axiom that values come from reason or religion is wrong... There are better ways of ensuring moral motivation than scaring the crap out of people". Patricia Churchland, philosopher, University of California, San Diego.

 

Some Of This Web Weaver's Reading, Listening & Watching 

 Been listening to: 

 

****************************************

 Been reading: 

160606 - A long overdue and still only partial update (with a huge period of backdating still necessary(?)):

Three books at the same time (sometimes it gets up to five):

·         The Trial, Franz Kafka. I felt I needed to know what Kafka-esque means. I think it means convoluted, intensely detailed, alienated and miserable. Hence I might not even finish the book.

·         Steppenwolf, Hermann Hesse. Just started it, looks damn good.

·         Lost for Words, John Humphrys. Excellent, very, very entertaining (esp. for a pedantic B like me).

·         Does Anything Eat Wasps?, New Scientist. Well worth a good flicking.

Oops, there we are then, it was five after all.

 

***************************************

 Been watching: 

On video:

On dvd: 

 

 

 

"Hey, I know that guy! He's a nihilist!"
 

 

Alice's Restaurant, 1969, 1hr 51mins, 

PG, hi-fi. 

 

 

Stars Arlo Guthrie, Pat Quinn, James Broderick, Special appearance by Pete Seeger, Lee Hays, Michael McClanathan, Geoff Outlaw, Tina Chen, Kathleen Dabney, William Obanhein.

On Thanksgiving Day, 1967, folksinger Arlo Guthrie's arrest for littering in Stockbridge, Mass. spurred the classic protest "Alice's Restaurant," a song that became a battle-cry for a large section of the disaffected generation of the 1960s, and made a folk hero of the young Arlo.

The son of the famous folksinger Woody Guthrie, Arlo plays himself, an aspiring folksinger who drops out of college to sing anti-war songs.  Arlo commits his garbage "crime" while staying at Alice (Pat Quinn) and Ray Brock's (James Broderick) deconsecrated church which serves as a commune for an ever-changing group of nomadic hippies. The littering "crime" has surprising repercussions at his draft-induction physical in New York.

Alice's Restaurant, with stirring music by Joni Mitchell, Arlo and Woody Guthrie, and Pete Seeger, was a significant artistic catalyst for the 60s peace movement.

********************************

 

"I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim, too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at you on account of your bad luck or hard traveling. I am out to fight those songs to my very last breath of air and my last drop of blood. I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world and that if it has hit you pretty hard and knocked you for a dozen loops, no matter what color, what size you are, how you are built, I am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in your work. And the songs that I sing are made up for the most part by all sorts of folks just about like you". Woody Guthrie

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

 

What follows is best read while listening to the last track, 1st disc, Bob Dylan, The Bootleg Series, Vol's 1 - 3.

"There's this book comin' out and they asked me to write something about Woody. Sort of like 'What does Woody Guthrie mean to you in 25 words?' . . . and I couldn't do it, I wrote out 5 pages, and . . . I have it here. It's a . . . have it here by accident actually, heh, but I . . . I . . . I'd like to say this out loud, so if you can sort of roll along with this thing here. . . this is called 'Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie.'" 

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled while facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm talking
In this air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding

And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve

But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
Cause you look an' you start getting the chills
Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you think it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back my friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
That stuff ain't real

No but that ain't yer game, it ain't yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in the Brooklyn State hospital.

And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown

Bob Dylan 120463

***********************************************

'First they came for the communists
and I did not speak out -
because I was not a communist

Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out -
because I was not a trade unionist

Next they came for the Catholics
and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Catholic

Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.'

Pastor Niemoeller, Jewish victim of the Nazis

************************************************************

Ani di Franco - Self Evident

yes,
us people are just poems
we're 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
approaching hyper-distillation
and once upon a time
we were moonshine
rushing down the throat of a giraffe
yes, rushing down the long hallway
despite what the p.a. announcement says
yes, rushing down the long stairs
with the whiskey of eternity
fermented and distilled
to eighteen minutes
burning down our throats
down the hall
down the stairs
in a building so tall
that it will always be there
yes, it's part of a pair
there on the bow of noah's ark
the most prestigious couple
just kickin back parked
against a perfectly blue sky
on a morning beatific
in its indian summer breeze
on the day that america
fell to its knees
after strutting around for a century
without saying thank you
or please
and the shock was subsonic
and the smoke was deafening
between the setup and the punch line
cuz we were all on time for work that day
we all boarded that plane for to fly
and then while the fires were raging
we all climbed up on the windowsill
and then we all held hands
and jumped into the sky
and every borough looked up when it heard the first blast
and then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed
and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
looked more like war than anything i've seen so far
so far
so far

so fierce and ingenious
a poetic specter so far gone
that every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling
over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable' and on and on
and i'll tell you what, while we're at it
you can keep the pentagon
keep the propaganda
keep each and every tv
that's been trying to convince me
to participate
in some prep school punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
perpetuate retribution
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
is still hanging in the air
and there's ash on our shoes
and there's ash in our hair
and there's a fine silt on every mantle
from hell's kitchen to brooklyn
and the streets are full of stories
sudden twists and near misses
and soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters
with tales of narrowly averted disasters
and the whiskey is flowin
like never before
as all over the country
folks just shake their heads
and pour

so here's a toast to all the folks who live in palestine
afghanistan
iraq
el salvador
here's a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation
under the stone cold gaze of mt. rushmore
here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of oklahoma city
just to listen to a young woman's voice
here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
awaiting the executioner's guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
to find peace in the form of a dream

cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
who stole the oval office and that phony election
i mean
it don't take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
jeb said he'd deliver florida, folks
and boy did he ever
and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 george w. bush is not president
#2 america is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz i am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
i've got no room for a lie so verbose
i'm looking out over my whole human family
and i'm raising my glass in a toast
here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
i dream of touring like duke ellington
in my own railroad car
i dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face
give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll
yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there
so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
and clear the air
get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand
of someone else's desert
put it back in its pants
and quit the hypocritical chants of
freedom forever
cuz when one lone phone rang
in two thousand and one
at ten after nine
on nine one one
which is the number we all called
when that lone phone rang right off the wall
right off our desk and down the long hall
down the long stairs
in a building so tall
that the whole world turned
just to watch it fall
and while we're at it
remember the first time around?
the bomb?
the ryder truck?
the parking garage?
the princess that didn't even feel the pea?
remember joking around in our apartment on avenue D?
can you imagine how many paper coffee cups would have to change their design
following a fantastical reversal of the new york skyline?!
it was a joke, of course
it was a joke
at the time
and that was just a few years ago
so let the record show
that the FBI was all over that case
that the plot was obvious and in everybody's face
and scoping that scene
religiously
the CIA
or is it KGB?
committing countless crimes against humanity
with this kind of eventuality
as its excuse
for abuse after expensive abuse
and it didn't have a clue
look, another window to see through
way up here
on the 104th floor
look
another key
another door
10% literal
90% metaphor
3000 some poems disguised as people
on an almost too perfect day
should be more than pawns
in some asshole's passion play
so now it's your job
and it's my job
to make it that way
to make sure they didn't die in vain
sshhhhhh....
baby listen
hear the train?
 
Written, performed & produced by Ani DiFranco
From the album “So much shouting, so much laughter”
© 2002 Righteous Babe Records Ltd
 www.righteousbabe.com

**************************************

 

Thomas

 Thomas, Dylan: 1914 - 1953
A poet of mesmerising power and author of the radio play, Under Milk Wood, Dylan Thomas is known as much for his self-destructive lifestyle as for...

********************************************

 

Native Way of Life

Each morning upon arising and each evening before sleeping, give thanks for the life within you and for all life,
      Treat every person with respect.
      Special respect should be given to elders, parents and teachers.
      Never speak unkindly to another person.
      Touch nothing that belongs to another.
      Respect the privacy of everyone.
      Never walk between people when they are conversing.
      Never interrupt people who are conversing,
      Speak in a quiet voice.
      Never speak unless invited to do so.
      Do not speak of others in a negative way.
      Treat the Earth as your Mother.
      Respect the beliefs of others.
      Listen with courtesy when others speak.
      Respect the wisdom of people in council.

from Sacred Earth News

**************************************** 



          Denis Leary - I'm An Asshole
I'm just a regular Joe, with a regular job,
I'm your average white, suburbanite slob,
I like football and porno and books about war,
I got an average house, with a nice hardwood floor,
My wife and my job, my kids and my car,
My feet on my table, and a Cuban cigar,

But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested
(oh no, no way, uh uh)
No, I gotta go out and have fun at someone else's expense,
(woah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah),
   I drive really slow in the ultra-fast lane
While people behind me are going insane.

I'm an asshole (he's an asshole),
I'm an asshole (he's an asshole, such an asshole)

I use public toilets and I piss on the seat,
I walk around in the summertime saying, "How about this heat?"

I'm an asshole, (he's an asshole)
I'm an asshole, (he's the world's biggest asshole)

Sometimes I park in the handicap spaces
While handicapped people make handicap faces,

I'm an asshole (he's an asshole).
I'm an asshole (he's a real fucking asshole).

Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song,
Ranting and raving and carrying on,
Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong,
Nah

I'm an asshole (he's an asshole)
I'm an asshole (he's the world's biggest asshole)

You know what I'm gonna do?
I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado convertible,
Hot pink, with whale skin hubcaps
And all leather cow interior
And make brown baby seal eyes for head lights (yeah!)
     And I'm gonna drive in that baby at 115 miles per hour
Gettin' 1 mile per gallon,
Sucking down Quarter Pounder cheeseburgers from McDonald's
    In the old fashioned non-biodegradable styrofoam containers
      And when I'm done sucking down those greeseball burgers
  I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the American flag
        And then I'm gonna toss the styrofoam containers right out the side
And there ain't a goddamn thing anybody can do about it
You know why, because we've got the bombs, that's why,
2 words, nuclear fuckin' weapons, OK?!
Russia, Germany, Romania, 
they can have all the democracy they want,
They can have a big democracy cakewalk
Right through the middle of Tiananmen Square 
and it won't make a lick of difference
Because we've got the bombs, OK?!
John Wayne's not dead, he's frozen,
and as soon as we find a cure for cancer
We're gonna thaw out the Duke 
and he's gonna be pretty pissed off
You know why,
Have you ever taken a cold shower, 
well multiply that by 15 million times
That's how pissed off the Duke's gonna be!
I'm gonna get the Duke, and John Cassavetes,
and Lee Marvin, and Sam Peckinpah, and a case of whiskey, 
and drive down to Texas...

(Hey! You know, you really are an asshole!)
Why don't you just shut up and sing the song, pal?
I'm an asshole (he's an asshole)
I'm an asshole (he's the world's biggest asshole)

A-S-S-H-O-L-E
  Everybody
A-S-S-H-O-L-E

I'm an asshole and I'm proud of it.
 
*******************************************************
 
Where did you sleep last night? by Huddie Ledbetter

My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?
In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun don’t ever shine
I would shiver the whole night through

My girl, my girl, where will you go?
I’m going where the cold wind blows
In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun don’t ever shine
I would shiver the whole night through

Her husband, was a hard working man
Just about a mile from here
His head was found in a driving wheel
But his body never was found

My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?
In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun don’t ever shine
I will shiver the whole night through
(sing it for me)

My girl, my girl, where will you go?
I’m going where the cold wind blows
In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun don’t ever shine
I would shiver the whole night through

My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?
In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun don’t ever shine
I will shiver the whole night through

My girl, my girl, where will ya go?
I’m going where the cold wind blows
In the pines, the pines
The sun, the shine
I’ll shiver the whole night through

 

Here are 14 actual error messages seen on the computer screens in Japan, where some are written in Haiku. Aren't these better than "your computer has performed an illegal operation"?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ