Archive for July 2008

my back pages… a midsummernightssong


Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rollin’ high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps
“We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I
Proud ‘neath heated brow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
“Rip down all hate,” I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull. I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

Girls’ faces formed the forward path
From phony jealousy
To memorizing politics
Of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists
Unthought of, though, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

A self-ordained professor’s tongue
Too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty
Is just equality in school
“Equality,” I spoke the word
As if a wedding vow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not that I’d become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My pathway led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

starbucks: the “other” void

the announced closure of a number of starbuck’s “stores” prompted one portland channel to do a news brief on the event, from the perspective of an elderly woman recently moved to portland from west virginia.  in the piece the oft cited starbucks-corporate-wish was dredged up:  that the plastic place exists as the third world - the place between work and home.

she lamented near tears that the place was like family to her… that it was like Cheers, where everybody knew her name.

A little historical perspective, though sadly, as testimony to a fleeting memory, devoid of footnotes:  a nice essay exists somewhere out there by a source forgotten naming the pub as a kind of third world, precisely the reference mentioned in the news article and the mantra of starbuck’s corporate.  a place extant between the worlds of home and work.  a place, particularly in the british pubs, where people of all classes meet on a randomly regular basis to rub elbows and exchange stories and laughter and sometimes tears…. with tongues loosened a bit by a few pints served dutifully by the employees (who may also on occasion remind Bob that he might mind  his Ps and Qs lest the troubleandstrife put him in the dog house again).  the pub, in short, is truly a land unto itself, cultivated by the regulars and kept from the dangers of inbreeding by frequent visitors who are embraced and encouraged to share.

compare this dynamic and creative Other to the plastic isolating homogeneity offered thru the endless replication of starbucks where your day is fucking “made” by the recognition that the hired help remembers your name and how much cinnamon you like in your latte.  where you sit alone at a table sufficient to hold a laptop and a newspaper, and safely emerge grasping a corporate brand in a paper cup having bared your pathetic soul to absolutely nobody, and ready to face the world.

i contend that some independent coffee houses afford their patrons the experience of the “Other,” and recognize that the experience, whether pub or coffee house is largely dependent on the clientele.  I would sadly go so far as to admit that the very concept of the “Other” is relegated largely to memory, and further to drinking establishments distant from our shores.  that being said, at least the Potential exists for something more than a company mantra and logo.  if a clerk at starbucks calls me by name it holds as much meaning to me as the “have a nice day” at the bottom of a super-market receipt…. barring some deeper relationship:)  and the very fact that starbucks exists as portable pods littering the landscape, as examples of anti-humanity structures that serve the most superficial need of interaction, denies them any goddam right to proclaim themselves as the “other”…. and relegates those who find fulfillment there to the realm of the lemures (and lemurs) - the realm of the walking dead clutching a cup of severely over-priced joe to their starving breast.

[prelude to the prelude of independence day]

i promise this will be the last post on the matter  (for now) :)

prelude: happy independence day

this is the full version of “with god on your side” by bob dylan, accompanied by joan baez (i luv her but she can get annoying…. perhaps bob thot so too).  it woulda been included in the trilogy below, but for some reason editing multiple youtube entries in a single post fuxors things, and i grew tired of redos.  i discovered that the post in the trilogy was truncated, hence this rendition.  further to this rendition, there are better ones out there, you really have to turn your speakers up, and tolerate joan, but people seem to resist youtube songs with an album cover as the video.

Happy Independence Day! a 4th of july trilogy

a couple perspectives on freedom by neil young, followed by a lil bob

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