Resurrection and Redemption

This year Easter falls on April Fool's Day. The Roman Catholic Church is asking disaffected American Catholics to come home. 

Come home to what? Sexual shame? Mutilation and possible death in childbirth as a social good? Get in line and vote for Traitor Trump like all your hypnotized Sheep? American Catholics put the Stooge of Darkness in the Oval Office. 

I will not count the ways the RCC has abandoned and tormented me. Sufficient to say I did not give my children to the RCC for spiritual education.

I know I will come home when they make a plate for me at the table. And smile when I sit down. And apologize for treating a poor young unwed Catholic Mother as though she was beyond the pale, not worth speaking to, or worthy of assistance - me. And I rejected the illegal abortion my Catholic Mother offered me.

I reject the Atonement. I am responsible for my own sins. I am responsible for my own redemption. I would never seek to profit from the torture death of any being - god, human, or animal. Got room for me now?

The long-awaited second Southern Gospel Revival EP has finally been released.
The project, which is a follow-up to the first one that was released in 2012, reunites Courtney Patton, Drew Kennedy, Jamie Lin Wilson and Ben and Micah Hester. Each recording was completed in one take, with no overdubs. Songs include 'When They Ring Those Golden Bells,' 'Take Your Shoes Off Moses,' 'By the Riverside' and 'I Can't Even Walk.'

Good night, Sweet Ponce. Flights of Angels sing thee to thy Best.

From Cartoon Movement

Mike Pence is running for President of the United States of America. Anyone surprised?

The rhyme scheme and meter appropriated from I Know an Old Lady as written by Rose Bonne (lyrics)  and Canadian/English folk artist Alan Mills copyrighted in 1952. Sung by a young Burl Ives in the video below.

CLOTHESPIN OPTIONAL

I know a guy
Who lives in a shoe.
Everyday he has
Nothing to do.
But cavil and sigh.

I know a guy
Who swallowed some poo.
No one knows why
He swallowed doo doo.

I know why he did that jig.
He swallowed doo to help a Pig.
Let's make him cry.

I know a guy with bleeding eye.

I know why he's covered fly.

It's all because he swallowed pig doo.

Smells foul now morning poo from the prig do.

Cavil and sigh. 

TRUMP'S GUN - Twang Goes the Magic Google Finger

“The right of a nation to kill a tyrant in case of necessity can no more be doubted than to hang a robber, or kill a flea.” ― John Adams

One of the most striking images of this administration and Trump's election for me was Trump aiming a pretend gun through the TV at Americans.

I googled 'images TRUMP TARGET' in honor of Trump and his crowds calling for the death of Hillary Clinton. Remember Palin's targets on the faces of Dem politicians?

Maybe Trumpolini should have read the Bible as well as Mein Kampf. As He sowed, so he reaps. Do not come after me, NSA. I am a scholar. This is what I found with a random sampling. I entitle this photoshop art on the left below 
What me worry?

If all printers were determined not to print anything till they were sure it would offend nobody, there would be very little printed. - Benjamin Franklin

"Apology for Printers" (1730); later in Benjamin Franklin's Autobiographical Writings (1945) edited by Carl Van Dore

"Government is not reason, it is not eloquence, it is force; like fire, a troublesome servant and a fearful master. Never for a moment should it be left to irresponsible action." - George Washington

An article entitled Voices from Donald Trump's Rallies, Uncensored is Worth Reading. You can hear the crowd call for Hillary's death. Hillary won the popular vote. 

I got thrown off twitter for quoting John Adams, specifically the quote with which I began this bitty photo essay. And I said that I am praying for a patriotic Armed Forces Sniper Team. Took about a week for twitter to deep-six me. Trump still had his twitter at the moment. And Trump was actually, and has been killing Americans. Non, je ne regette rien. Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose. 

Veteran's Day

The Latin in this poem means: "Sweet and fitting it is to die for one's country."
(From Horace, Odes, III. ii. 13)

2nd Lt, Wilfred Edward Salter Owen, 5th Bn. Manch. R., T.F., attd. 2nd Bn.
Awarded the Military Cross for conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in the attack on the Fonsomme Line on October 1st/2nd, 1918. On the company commander becoming a casualty, he assumed command and showed fine leadership and resisted a heavy counter-attack. He personally manipulated a captured enemy machine gun from an isolated position and inflicted considerable losses on the enemy. Throughout he behaved most gallantly.

DULCE ET DECORUM EST

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!
--An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

- by Wilfred Owen

 Benjamin Britten's War Requiem incorporating the poetry of Wilfred Owen.

I am back now. I knew my people would come for me.

I was afraid I was going to die. It was close. I have improved. The Doctors and AI at Penn have told me I have an 80% chance of living another 10 years. Whoopee! Thank you for your support.

I am getting my mojo back and sort of hiding. I have been isolating. I yell at folks I do not know online. I find that soothing. I have been saner. I have been a lot saner. I need the 'advise and counsel' of my Friends. 

I am lower than a worm's dupa 

and 

making plans for a new beginning for this

 /Ship of Lustfull Fools and Fey Keyboard Warriors/

at the same time. We have been doing this mess together for a decade now, Cher Readers. 

I am still having a good time, but google hates me. I paid for them for another year. I am buying a new farm. I will have my own domain. Look at me, acting like I know what I am talking about. I need my computer-literate buddies, maybe. 

Agitated Depression Lady Shrink calls what I am experiencing. Melancholia Agitata sounds a lot more glamorous. That is what this THING used to be called. It is not pretty. 

Larry Motuz, if you look at Popular Posts in the left column, you will see the most-read articles of the past year. Your excellent message is one of them. Abortion and the American Family

Welcome home, Diggy Doo. I will be back to write more. I need a nap so bad right this moment. I have gained about 10 pounds, but I wear out easy. I am a chronic pain patient. I am bipolar. And in the midst of it all, I am happy happy happy as can be. 

Dirty Blues Sunday #1

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche

I had no idea this genre of the Blues existed. I have always loved the Blues. I saw BB King in person from a box near the stage in Madison Square Garden. 

Now, that I know about Dirty Blues, I am going to share some of it with you.

Thomas A. Dorsey

Dirty Blues is about taboo subjects and was played only on jukeboxes. Too dirty for the airwaves. Sex and marijuana?

The Sun is finally shining. I am feeling good. I have to do something until the Bodega opens and I can get some coffee. No one had time to stop at the Reading Terminal Market.

This is Rosetta Howard from Chicago. Singing with Harlem Hamfats. Her songs are still on sale here. In the 1950s she sang with Thomas A. Dorsey at the Pilgrim Baptist Church in Chicago. Both Rosetta Howard and Harlem Hamfats transition between Swing and Blues. Jukebox music. Dancing Music.

78: Decca Sepia Series No.15. Rosetta Howard vocal, accomp. by the Harlem Hamfats

Despite their name, the "Harlem" Hamfats were a Chicago band in the 1930's whose members came from various places; for example, the McCoy brothers hailed from Mississippi, Herb Morand, John Lindsay and Odell Rand were from New Orleans and Horace Malcolm and Freddy Flynn came from Chicago. This is The Weed Smoker's Dream.

Being Neither White Nor Black

CROSS by Langston Hughes

My old man's a white old man
And my old mother's black.
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.
If ever I cursed my black old mother
And wished she were in hell,
I'm sorry for that evil wish
And now I wish her well
My old man died in a fine big house.
My ma died in a shack.
I wonder where I'm going to die,
Being neither white nor black? 

 

Sign of the Month - July 2015 - Socialist Snow

Go Bernie!  It's your birthday. Go Bernie!

Burlington Snow written for Bernie Sanders by Allen Ginsberg

Socialist snow on the streets
Socialist talk in the Maverick bookstore
Socialist kids sucking socialist lollipops
Socialist poetry in socialist mouths
—aren’t the birds frozen socialists?
Aren’t the snowclouds blocking the airfield
Social Democratic Appeasement?
Isn’t the socialist sky owned by
the socialist sun?
Earth itself socialist, forests, rivers, lakes
furry mountains, socialist salt
in oceans?
Isn’t this poem socialist? It doesn’t
belong to me anymore.