The Middle Class Depressed

Dog Eat Dog

Even after the Depression, most people had survived, though I'm not sure so many of them had so far to fall as would currently be the case. The rich have always been rich, but the successful middle class has never been so large or felt themselves so entitled to something perpetually better. I can only barely recall life without TV or air conditioning! When have we ever done without anything? We would all have such a long way to fall, and then we'd all land in a heap on top of one another. We wouldn't know who we should kill or who we should eat.

Big Piece

Ludwig Erhard: "A compromise is the art of dividing a cake in such a way that everyone believes he has the biggest piece."

Body Experience

You ever look at yourself and feel like it looks like someone else? I never have out-of-body experiences, but I do have this experience (see my photo in sidebar). All that aside, my internet connection self-suspended itself for the past several days, but finally just unplugging the modem and turning it back on again fixed it. A cheap fix, once my nephew came along and just did it!

Fretless Guitar

Blow your brains out, blow your cigar, Blow all your juices, blow your regard, Blow out the candle with a soft squeeze box Or with a soft breeze Or blow it to hell with Hurricane Ike-- Doesn't matter, it'll be out! Jeff Beck's been on my mind lately, Can't say why, he just stays there On the fringes of my consciousness-- Anyway, he once made a fretless guitar Out of boxes and stuff, when he was a kid, I mean... The frets were painted on, I read. I've seen him listed as one of the top one hundred Or even one of the top four guitarists, but I don't know, Myself not being even one of the top 10 million guitarists.

Black And White

Martin Luther King Jr. "It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me, and I think that's pretty important."

Exegetic Halitosis Folk Song

I've been whispered down the turnpike, Paying tolls to know not where with know not what! I've been unctiouus and deplorable and invested, And fractious, undeserving, cathartic, owed, and Flipping up your frilly pink skirt behind at night! It was better than anything until we elope Or until we can kiss and moan like we did before With that secret dope you keep in your closet. You've been kept stapled stable somehow for no reason Yet we all rage on.

Free Choice

Peter Ustinov: "In America, through pressure of conformity, there is freedom of choice, but nothing to choose from."

Get up, get out of bed!

Seems like I spent forever this morning waking up, getting dressed, getting to the computer. Only my usual 60 to 90 minutes, though. I can barely recall the details of how when I was younger, I'd wake up ten minutes before I was due at work when I lived at least 15 minutes away! I'd drive there, somehow, in a coma. These days I'm lucky if I can feel my fingertips well enough to button my shirt. Damn the details, full speed ahead!

Give Away?

Frank Zappa: "I ain't got no soul to give away..." Oops, that wasn't Frank, that was me!

Mail Box And Post

On top of having no cable TV, we can't get the daily paper at present because we have no box for it. The box for the paper was attached below the mail box, which is also gone. If you want those details, I include them below. The storm didn't get the mail box, but some drunks or pill heads cruising around town the night after managed to wipe out the three mail boxes and posts grouped together. The post for our mail box was some piece of pipe, about 4 inches wide and very sturdy, that my father had put there decades ago--I wouldn't have thought it would be damaged, but the old Oldsmobile they say plowed into it must be more powerful that a hurricane. That pipe, buried 3 feet deep in the ground came up out of the wet ground along with the other two less sturdy posts! Somebody in the neighborhood pulled that car out of the ditch and sent the three drunks/pill heads on their way, one of them bleeding badly from bouncing his head against the windshield. Apparently our neighbor just wanted to get them out of our area--send them to kill somebody somewhere else, I guess. Maybe they had a wreck in front of a cop the next time (one can only hope), but I'm sure police were still straining to maintain order in my small town the night after the storm and would have been hard to contact. I don't know. I wasn't here. Weird shit happens when you leave home.

Got Home

Got home to a mess, though not as bad as Hurricane Rita. Detail later, if I ever catch my breath! I'm sure it was worse for many thousands of evacuees, but it's always hard when you're sick. Good lord. Stuck for the past week in a different state where the local Texas storm news was pretty scarce, here we are local again but the cable TV is still out! So, no TV news. I guess when power comes back, one expects all other amenities to follow--but not so!

More Hurricane Blues

I'm headed north again.

I Hate Hurricanes

Gustav missed us, but here comes Ike. This is really the first bad season since Rita was so destructive here, and before Rita, we'd had it pretty light for a long long time. I'm becoming a nervous wreck just watching the weather news.

Worse

Diseased and disarmed And all get worse...

Log Blog

Everything continues to be. Boring. Slow. And heavy.

Lift My Sword

Is Everything The Same?

Now it was before the final assassin came And before that nascent ascent began, I noticed that forceps ripped out your tongue And no one cared, You who had once been famous, You couldn't even rouse the yellow press In such a public panic as we all were in To see us with our lungs caved in-- Ah, men they danced in the streets with death masks on And ladies lifted their skirts so high to dance That even young men had never seen such a sea Of white elastic encasing such a wave of cloth Or such a waft of hair around that pink American flesh! How could anyone object? I lift my sword, I lift my glass, I lift my glans for all to glance And spill my seed and steer my steed! We lift our arms in nimble praise of all that gentle ass!

Unpacking for Gustav

I can't believe I had so much stuff packed for the hurricane; when I unpacked it, it seemed like three times as much! I must own too much stuff, that's all I can think! I'm back, and I wish I had stayed. Gustav made us all work, but didn't work much damage around here! That's good, but I' so tired I can't see straight. Wish I could hire someone else to do this shit!

What The Hell You Care?

Like A Rolling Stone

Once upon a time you dressed so fine You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you? People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall" You thought they were all kiddin' you You used to laugh about Everybody that was hangin' out Now you don't talk so loud Now you don't seem so proud About having to be scrounging for your next meal. How does it feel How does it feel To be without a home Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely But you know you only used to get juiced in it And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it You said you'd never compromise With the mystery tramp, but now you realize He's not selling any alibis As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes And ask him do you want to make a deal? How does it feel How does it feel To be on your own With no direction home Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns When they all come down and did tricks for you You never understood that it ain't no good You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat Ain't it hard when you discover that He really wasn't where it's at After he took from you everything he could steal. How does it feel How does it feel To be on your own With no direction home Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe You used to be so amused At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal. How does it feel How does it feel To be on your own With no direction home Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? Copyright ©1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music