Love Is Just A Four-Letter Word
by Bob Dylan
Seems like only yesterday
I left my mind behind
Down in the Gypsy Cafe
With a friend of a friend of mine
She sat with a baby heavy on her knee
Yet spoke of life most free from slavery
With eyes that showed no trace of misery
A phrase in connection first with she I heard
That love is just a four-letter word
Outside a rambling store-front window
Cats meowed to the break of day
Me, I kept my mouth shut, too
To you I had no words to say
My experience was limited and underfed
You were talking while I hid
To the one who was the father of your kid
You probably didn't think I did, but I heard
You say that love is just a four-letter word
I said goodbye unnoticed
Pushed towards things in my own games
Drifting in and out of lifetimes
Unmentionable by name
Searching for my double, looking for
Complete evaporation to the core
Though I tried and failed at finding any door
I must have thought that there was nothing more
Absurd than that love is just a four-letter word
Though I never knew just what you meant
When you were speaking to your man
I can only think in terms of me
And now I understand
After waking enough times to think I see
The Holy Kiss that's supposed to last eternity
Blow up in smoke, its destiny
Falls on strangers, travels free
Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me
And I do not really need to be
Assured that love is just a four-letter word
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Love Is Just A Four-Letter Word
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
The dirty bastards are all around us, and now they'll be breeding (or harvesting?) a new crop. It is better to write, just write. Don't sell your ass, don't sell those ads, just entertain yourself and your covey of witless friends and forget about prospering more and more. Accept what you've got, when you can. Make friends with a dog. Entertain him. Let the dog entertain you. If he bites you, give him the address of the bastards!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
"The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he's on."
At the risk of sounding callous about campus shootings, I suggest this for the due consideration of all modern students who wish to remain current ones.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Pamela Quigby Josey was a rose in disguise,
The fact being that she was pretty,
But really rather boring and colorless,
And she had no tact.
All her life in youth she prospered
With hardly an effort ever made,
But now she’s all grown up
And getting rather sad,
Not doing too well
Out of the beauty pageants,
Out of the path of least resistance,
Out on the highway where everyone goes
And everyone falls when they fail.
3nd draft: 04/15/07
©2007 Ronald C. Southern
Friday, April 13, 2007
Somewhere out in Dogger Gatsby's Blues, there's a long damn short story called "Dominoes". Go read it if you have time to piss away.
Ronald C. Southern: "All we can do with time is waste it!"
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I had a comment to moderate in my poetry blog Judy Garland Blues and that was unusual. At first I expected it to be Nobius, who's been about the only vocal fan I've had at that location. But, no, it was someone else. At first, it sounded nice, but I noticed all their blabber had nothing to indicate that they knew even that it was a poem they'd read, much less what it was about. Maybe it WAS someone real who just sounded that way--like a comment SPAMMER, I mean. So, I refused the comment. I didn't want to have to research it. If i threw away a real comment by a real person, that's sad, for I get so few (at the other site). But, Jesus Christ, people, speak clearly when you contact a stranger and identify yourself!
I report spammers, if I'm pretty certain of it, just as I hang the fuck up on phone callers who sound suspicious. Don't you?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
It almost seems a waste of breath to mention what Don Imus said about the black women basketball players the other day. So I won't. But I said this when Goddess brought it up on Blonde Intuition and I'll repeat my comment, just to make sure I've wiped that scummy shit off my shoes!
"Imus, like Howard Stern, is just an asshole who has made fools of celebrities and politicians in America and seems to have general credibility when their real base of popularity is only with the adolescents who write on the bathroom walls. If anyone in America had any guts, had any balls, had any wits, they'd fire Imus. But I'm not holding my breath because America is the same fucking asshole he is. They should all commit suicide, but I don't expect it'll happen."
Well, there are all those lately who wanted to just talk about it and talk about it ad nauseum, but not me--I like nasty pictures! Besides, until she was dead, I never saw anything but cleavage, anyway. Her death forced me to take another look at things. Things? That does sound nasty, doesn't it? She WAS sometimes very good-looking, sometimes not, wasn't she? Which ones were which is up to you!
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Christopher Morley: "Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
Saturday, April 07, 2007
I can no longer remember if I am quirky because I started out that way or if I am just acting that way for the entertainment value in the Blogosphere. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? It is POSSIBLE that all you little blog shits make me pander a little more than I'm used to, don't you think? Or are you thinking that I'm not that nice? It could go either way!
Friday, April 06, 2007
I was telling Mushy about this, but giving it short shrift--not much detail! I can't give that much detail about music, because you mainly need to listen. These are "radio" stations of my naming and then Pandora tries to match those qualities. If they select clunkers, you can reject them entirely or move them to one of the other stations! You can even tell them that you're tired of a song and not to play it for an extended time. I felt that way about "Tom Dooley" back in my youth, whenever that was. Not that the folk song was no good, it was just too popular! Aside from the radio, my sister had the 45 rpm record and we played it TOO MUCH. I keep a window open for Pandora and listen while I surf other sites. The only problem is that if it senses no one is making selections or otherwise being present, it will stop and apologize for thinking you are no longer listening! That's weird, but I guess it's fair. It's doesn't want you to use them for background music if you're not even THERE!
Oh! Among the things cut off on the screenshot is the first station, Ray Charles! No one should leave out Ray Charles unless you're from another planet, and I ain't and I didn't!
The DAILY category just underwent a change. Though I won't go back and change all the old ones, I will change just a few to see the effect. I need not talk about it much. You'll know it when you see it.
I'm listening to the Beatles "Helter-Skelter" on the Internet radio and I feel GOOD!
Let it be, boys and girls.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
It didn't dawn on me until i was reading David Halberstam's book, "The Fifties", and he began talking about the powerful influence of the disc jockeys of the day, that I began to realize that that sort of persona-seizing self-celebration is a lot like what we do here on the blogs. I had never thought of it before, though I've certainly listened to some highly personable disc jockeys in past years. Some were hip and some were very countrified and some were somewhere in-between. Some, of course, were merely commercial and not worth the oxygen it'd' take to keep a cross-eyed pig alive, but somebody had to be "safe" enough to be the Master of Ceremonies for the men's clubs in town. Very square; those guys could smile like blazes into the face of a fat turd about to hit the blades of the proverbial Fan!
At any rate, that's what this is like, I think. (The cool part, not the turd part!) It's as if I had my own few hours of radio show and I can make sense or not, just as it pleases me. My regulars will be entertained even when I don't make much sense! If I do make sense, that's gravy! And there's no sponsors to give a shit! If I start speaking in a deep voice, you'll know what's happening. Maybe I'll swell up and begin to call myself a Wolfman! Or wolverine? How about a Tasmanian Devil--there's a lot of appeal in that!
Jes' call me Taz!
I am going to rename my site Blotspot. Why? Because I can. Unless I decide to name it Bugspurt and keep up with the pest-control nomenclature. Or how about Blogsplut? That sounds messy. Like something huge smeared on the windshield! Well, maybe not; maybe what I should do is rename all YOUR sites! I'll start to work on it soon. I've got one title: Shit Happens. But I can't decide who to give it to. Bruno or Mushy occur to me. But maybe the whole damn batch of you could wear it! It's like a black leather jacket; almost anybody would look good in it. Except Zandria. Not that she wouldn't look good in a leather jacket; it's just that she never says Shit! At least, not in her blog.
Monday, April 02, 2007
You know, I have no intention of doing anything different. I'm going to blog as usual (or not), and carry the same links to my perverse choice of "Intelligent" or whatever Blogs, and mention other things at random just as it pleases me. I have recently tried going the Adsense route, but I get one ad and no recognition of me when I try to login, so now I feel like a Blogger newbie, fucked in the ass by a major corporation who doesn't even have the apparent sense to enjoy my distress. But all this aside (it's unimportant whether I get rich), I just wonder sometimes if (oh hell, I know they don't!) anyone has ever read any one of the blogs I list in the sidebar? Now all of you that are on that list, maybe YOU have done so. Once, probably. But I still wonder if the passersby have shown any interest. I don't think they do. And if they have, they're probably on those sites for the same 20 seconds that they're on my blog! I get so pissed, I'd beat somebody up, but the only people who are close enough to berate or kick are my few friends in the world (the whole world!) and I better not beat on them! I can't afford the losses!
Goddess was mad at God recently in a comic rant, but then she apologized to him and that was that! Everything okay! I guess... I wish it was that easy when I get crazy. I find it doesn't work. But I'll never change. I'm a lunatic in high priapic fulmination! What else is there, after all? Sorry if you're confused, but I'm not your Daddy!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
A Sudden Insporation
"Be effusive, and you'll sound like a girl!"
I said to the dirtbag who was trying to fool the world.
"After all, it's the Internet, and we're out on a limb,
And if you don't do audio or video,
Who's gonna know what the hell is going on?
Have you ever been invited to the Lame Boys' Parade?
The one that takes place somewhere just below Paradise?
It's a street over yonder in a sticky yellow neighborhood.
The parade is slow and noisy and it litters all the street
And makes the public turn away and pretend to sleep!
It is awfully gimpy and game and hobbly,
But all through the year we say that we don't
Know a thing about the little lame boys' charade,
But when it happens it's plain to all and we know it!