Dumbocrats Shooting Themselves in the Foot (or They're Putting Their Feets in Their Mouths)
I've been gloating. You know what "gloating" is?
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gloat (gl
t)intr.v. gloat·ed, gloat·ing, gloats
To feel or express great, often malicious, pleasure or self-satisfaction: Don't gloat over your rival's misfortune.
n.
1. The act of gloating.
2. A feeling of great, often malicious, pleasure or self-satisfaction.
[Perhaps of Scandinavian origin; see ghel-2 in Indo-European roots.]
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I love that "great, often malicious, pleasure"--that's very Freudian--and you know how H.D. and I love old ancient Freud. Pill-pushing psychiatrists have taken his place today. No longer do you have to lie on a horsehair sofa and reveal your past to a Vienna Jew with a beard and a soothing voice! Did you catch my pun about lyin' on a horsehair sofa?
"Catching puns" is a gloating sport.
Why am I gloating?
Because I've been growling for 2 years now on this beastly blog about how politicians no matter what their party affiliation are liars, hypocrites, two-faced, all the same, all in the same "can't lose" boat--one term in Congress and you're fixed for life with a great health-care policy, a chance to get a great high-paying job with a consulting firm or a NONPROFIT "political" institute (read "Lobbying Firms and Foundations"), with privileges that come with once being a Washington, District of Corruption, Beltway crook. Plus, I'm also gloating over what seems to be a possibility before I die that I will get to see a Chaotic world, a death-wish world hoisting itself up onto the scaffold and hanging itself high! The End of Mankind--to be a part of that would give me a satisfaction in DYING--to live to the very end of human life on this Insect-Ruled World--no animal, including man's monkey relatives who are already entering into extinction zones, can survive an insect attack! The very chemicals that kill insects are 1000 times more effective in killing human beings. Look at the Bopol disaster where one of Union Carbide insecticide plants blew sky-high (to this day, by the bye, Union Carbide has not been charged with responsibility in this incident--in fact, I'm sure by now they've changed their name and no one even knows where Union Carbide is anymore--they started off as car battery makers--and ended up as human being killers--in other words, terrorists!!!) And I've been growling about this all my life, but NOW, today, in this 21st Century (in which John McCain says we do not invade sovereign territories, like his pals in Georgia--and what a wonderful Chaotic mess that is turning into), I see the possibility of human beings being driven into extinction by their subconscious suicidal tendencies! Man is determined to annihilate himself--the rich and privileged, those ROYAL People who still OWN us all, think they are protected by their wealth and their private armies, like the US Army--a professional army--and the heroes we make of these professional soldiers are false heroes like cops who get themselves shot in perhaps overdoing their duty are not heroes--and that especially goes for the big fat-bellied New York policemen I watched on teevee while the WTC towers were falling on 9/11 who were running like scared chickens away from that tragedy while the NYC firemen were foolishly running into that inferno. Another aside: remember, 9/11 is one of the most miraculous military attacks ever on a totally unsuspecting people, the people of New York City. I have lived in New York City since 1969, longer than I've lived anywhere else on earth, and the year I moved to NYC, the Croatian rebels blew up baggage-areas out at LaGuardia Airport--I don't recall how many were killed, but it seems I remember 12 or 13 killed in one airport bombing and there were others. Also when I moved to NYC, the anti-VietNam War movement was still in full swing and sway--there were war protest rallies in Central Park nearly every weekend! Cops (we called 'em Pigs) were everywhere in Central Park in those days and we were considered "Commie Lovers" and because of John Lenon talking about Jesus X Christ like he did one time, we were considered "Atheists" too--and I detour here to say that Atheists (of which I am one) are one of the most discriminated-against groups in the USA even though most Americans are atheists down deep (remember the subconscious?)--that's why the Christian fundraisers (fund (and I've written often about the Old South phenomenon of "amentalists) have to keep harping on how you must keep the faith and trust in THEIR God (or gods) because it's so easy to DOUBT the bullshit they're spewing out so piously--usually using the fundraising tactic of you giving God your hard-earned or criminally earned bucks and in return God will reward you 100 fold (or his lonely son Jesus X will reward you--one of 'em will). "Doctor" Mike Murdoch is one of my favorite "Christian" flim-flammersflim-flamming"--The Flim-Flam Man (1967) was a great movie, by the way, with George C. Scott (who, by God, I thought was a hell of an actor--a serious actor who could actually play roles where you didn't really see him as George C. Scott but as the character he was supposedly truly playing)--and in this movie, written by a Southern poet named Guy Owens, George C. plays the ultimate flim-flam man--a good book done well by Hollywood (I knew Guy Owens in the sense his little poetry journal--he was at the University of South Carolina--published a couple of my youthful poems and once I got a letter from Guy telling me he especially liked one of my poems)--now back to our story: and good-ole-boy "Doctor" Mike Murdoch's flim-flam has to do with "planting seeds" (it's very sexual, too) ("Doctor" Oral Roberts came up with the SEED idea--you're not giving preachers your money, you are sowing seeds in God's Heavenly Garden (you see to a Christian (or any desert religion--Judaism, Islam) the Garden is the Oasis--like Heaven is an OASIS in the sky--a place of salvation from the demanding Sun (Ra)-ruled desert--and by God, I just realized, Mormonism is a desert religion, too)). Here's how "Doctor" Mike's flim-flam goes: He pauses a minute in his spiel and suddenly shakes his head and starts saying "Hallelujah" over and over again and then he stops, looks dead into the camera and says, "God has just spoke to me and he told me to ask for 1000 of you to plant a $1000 seed offering tonight. Not for me, but for God, and those $1000 seed sowers by planting their $1000 seed offering in God's ministry will reap a harvest of unbounded wealth--Jesus told Peter [the first Pope] 'Ye reap what ye sow...' ..." [he meant it in an agricultural way--they traded goods for services in those days--they didn't have much money in circulation--some Roman coins and some of those Widow's mites that are so important in the Christian fundraising methods]--"...'and I in return will replenish you 100 fold.' And, folks," "Doctor" Mike Murdoch continues, "I tell you in continuing that God has laid it upon my heart to..." [Christians still believe God resides in human hearts--and you scientifically ask, what about a heart transplant? They can't answer that one--what did Jesus (an illiterate) and those ignorant Jewish reformers know about heart transplants? They would have stoned you to death had you said you believed one day real doctors ("physicians" is a better word--check out its OED meaning!) would be able to transfer hearts from one body to another--"Blasphemer!" would have been the crime!] "...God has told me to back your seed offerings with my own harvest--for every $1000 seed sower who comes forward here tonight, I'm going to guarantee you every seed offering I make in the next 90 days I will offer as back up to your $1000 seed." When "Doctor" Mike is asked, "Hey, Doctor, I gave a $1000 seed offering to your ministry a year and a half ago and I ain't got nothin' yet except letters from you asking for more seeds--what the hell's going on?" "Doctor" Mike looks serious into the camera--his expression is one, "OH Hell, how do I trick-bag my way out of this one?--oh, I got it!"--the light bulb comes on over his head and the good ole Louisiana boy "Doctor" comes up with a winner. With that cocky look on his face, Mike says, "Brother, let me tell you. You want a mosquito harvest. By that I mean, a mosquito breeds and multiples in a matter of seconds--on the other hand there is an elephant harvest! It takes an elephant two years to give birth! You are expecting a mosquito harvest but perhaps God has an elephant harvest in mind for you--why, personally I've got several elephant harvests due me--in one case it's been 7 years..." [7 is an important numerological number to Christians--who like their Judaic ancestors practice numerology--the Islamics, too--7 is a lucky number all over the world with superstitious and unscientific believers--I mean, if you'll believe Jesus was born of an immaculate conception you'll believe then in elephant harvests]--"...so you see," continues "Doctor" Mike's flim-flam, "you just have to trust in God and his WISDOM...keep the faith...and if you don't, well, you ain't gettin' neither a mosquito or an elephant harvest." And Christian sucker, you've just been flim-flammed by a good ole Louisiana hoodwinker ("to hoodwink" a good old South verb, too).
"Doctor" Mike Murdoch is a prophet, a prophet of the god Chaos, for he, too, sees Chaos as the only hope for Christians--that time when supposedly, and why not believe this, too, Christians will disappear leaving stupid people who only have faith in scientific fact (whatever that is) behind (a good book is Philip Wylie's novel Disappearance--it's not a "left behind" book, there's nothing "Christian" about the man who wrote A Generation of Vipers). What a great day that will be when all the Christians disappear (Praise the Lard and pass me some of them biscuits and jelly)--and I'll be still growling but soon will be howling when I see humankind disappearing...probably through these continuous wars we people who keep on surviving will have to endure.
Jo Stafford, a band singer from the Swing Era, had a hit, when I was a bambino, called "Shrimp Boats Is a'Comin"--"Shrimp boats is'a comin', there's dancin' tonight/Shrimp boats is'a comin', their sails are in sight! Why don't you hurry, hurry, hurry home!" [see the full lyrics BELOW]. It was a song about the Louisiana shrimp boats going out every day and how the wives and children waited on the beaches every night to see if all the boats were coming in with the day's catch--or what boats didn't make it in case of a Gulf of Mexico storm! Morgan City, Louisiana, used to be the shrimp boat capitol of the world--New Iberia, too--and when I lived in New Orleans, I used to run over to Houma and then drive straight down south to Grand Isle--and all along the road would be women and children up on galvanized tin roofs of sheds on which they had laid out tons of shrimpers which they spread evenly out on those roofs in that hot tropical sun, tossing out a ton or two of cayenne pepper all over them as they baked in that free sun. All your dried shrimp in those "fresh fish" days came from down in that part of Louisiana.
I've not been able to get that stupid song out of my head for like 55 years, except now when it hits my mind, like it did when I started writing this about how I am gloating, instead of "shrimp boats is'a comin'" I sing "Chaos is'a comin', there's dancin' tonight/Chaos is'a comin', its sails are in sight."
In 1985, I got a job as a band singer. As a band singer, I found myself deliberately remembering and imitating Jo Stafford's singing style, because I, like Lester Young, liked Jo Stafford's voice--and when I was a band singer, I imitated her intonationally--she had what was called a "husky" voice in those days and I have a sort of high voice--I'm not a falsetto but I can do falsetto if I have to--I'll tell you all the truth--women love men falsetto singers--especially black women! (I'm sounding like Uncle Joe Biden here.) So in order to dampen my voice, gruff it up a bit, I'd think of Jo Stafford singing "Shrimp Boats Is'a Comin'" or "You Belong to Me," another of her hits--and suddenly I was hitting the notes just like Jo did, except no one in my audiences ever related my singing to Jo Stafford's--hell, most of that crowd didn't know who Jo Stafford was.
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I love that "great, often malicious, pleasure"--that's very Freudian--and you know how H.D. and I love old ancient Freud. Pill-pushing psychiatrists have taken his place today. No longer do you have to lie on a horsehair sofa and reveal your past to a Vienna Jew with a beard and a soothing voice! Did you catch my pun about lyin' on a horsehair sofa?
"Catching puns" is a gloating sport.
Why am I gloating?
Because I've been growling for 2 years now on this beastly blog about how politicians no matter what their party affiliation are liars, hypocrites, two-faced, all the same, all in the same "can't lose" boat--one term in Congress and you're fixed for life with a great health-care policy, a chance to get a great high-paying job with a consulting firm or a NONPROFIT "political" institute (read "Lobbying Firms and Foundations"), with privileges that come with once being a Washington, District of Corruption, Beltway crook. Plus, I'm also gloating over what seems to be a possibility before I die that I will get to see a Chaotic world, a death-wish world hoisting itself up onto the scaffold and hanging itself high! The End of Mankind--to be a part of that would give me a satisfaction in DYING--to live to the very end of human life on this Insect-Ruled World--no animal, including man's monkey relatives who are already entering into extinction zones, can survive an insect attack! The very chemicals that kill insects are 1000 times more effective in killing human beings. Look at the Bopol disaster where one of Union Carbide insecticide plants blew sky-high (to this day, by the bye, Union Carbide has not been charged with responsibility in this incident--in fact, I'm sure by now they've changed their name and no one even knows where Union Carbide is anymore--they started off as car battery makers--and ended up as human being killers--in other words, terrorists!!!) And I've been growling about this all my life, but NOW, today, in this 21st Century (in which John McCain says we do not invade sovereign territories, like his pals in Georgia--and what a wonderful Chaotic mess that is turning into), I see the possibility of human beings being driven into extinction by their subconscious suicidal tendencies! Man is determined to annihilate himself--the rich and privileged, those ROYAL People who still OWN us all, think they are protected by their wealth and their private armies, like the US Army--a professional army--and the heroes we make of these professional soldiers are false heroes like cops who get themselves shot in perhaps overdoing their duty are not heroes--and that especially goes for the big fat-bellied New York policemen I watched on teevee while the WTC towers were falling on 9/11 who were running like scared chickens away from that tragedy while the NYC firemen were foolishly running into that inferno. Another aside: remember, 9/11 is one of the most miraculous military attacks ever on a totally unsuspecting people, the people of New York City. I have lived in New York City since 1969, longer than I've lived anywhere else on earth, and the year I moved to NYC, the Croatian rebels blew up baggage-areas out at LaGuardia Airport--I don't recall how many were killed, but it seems I remember 12 or 13 killed in one airport bombing and there were others. Also when I moved to NYC, the anti-VietNam War movement was still in full swing and sway--there were war protest rallies in Central Park nearly every weekend! Cops (we called 'em Pigs) were everywhere in Central Park in those days and we were considered "Commie Lovers" and because of John Lenon talking about Jesus X Christ like he did one time, we were considered "Atheists" too--and I detour here to say that Atheists (of which I am one) are one of the most discriminated-against groups in the USA even though most Americans are atheists down deep (remember the subconscious?)--that's why the Christian fundraisers (fund (and I've written often about the Old South phenomenon of "amentalists) have to keep harping on how you must keep the faith and trust in THEIR God (or gods) because it's so easy to DOUBT the bullshit they're spewing out so piously--usually using the fundraising tactic of you giving God your hard-earned or criminally earned bucks and in return God will reward you 100 fold (or his lonely son Jesus X will reward you--one of 'em will). "Doctor" Mike Murdoch is one of my favorite "Christian" flim-flammersflim-flamming"--The Flim-Flam Man (1967) was a great movie, by the way, with George C. Scott (who, by God, I thought was a hell of an actor--a serious actor who could actually play roles where you didn't really see him as George C. Scott but as the character he was supposedly truly playing)--and in this movie, written by a Southern poet named Guy Owens, George C. plays the ultimate flim-flam man--a good book done well by Hollywood (I knew Guy Owens in the sense his little poetry journal--he was at the University of South Carolina--published a couple of my youthful poems and once I got a letter from Guy telling me he especially liked one of my poems)--now back to our story: and good-ole-boy "Doctor" Mike Murdoch's flim-flam has to do with "planting seeds" (it's very sexual, too) ("Doctor" Oral Roberts came up with the SEED idea--you're not giving preachers your money, you are sowing seeds in God's Heavenly Garden (you see to a Christian (or any desert religion--Judaism, Islam) the Garden is the Oasis--like Heaven is an OASIS in the sky--a place of salvation from the demanding Sun (Ra)-ruled desert--and by God, I just realized, Mormonism is a desert religion, too)). Here's how "Doctor" Mike's flim-flam goes: He pauses a minute in his spiel and suddenly shakes his head and starts saying "Hallelujah" over and over again and then he stops, looks dead into the camera and says, "God has just spoke to me and he told me to ask for 1000 of you to plant a $1000 seed offering tonight. Not for me, but for God, and those $1000 seed sowers by planting their $1000 seed offering in God's ministry will reap a harvest of unbounded wealth--Jesus told Peter [the first Pope] 'Ye reap what ye sow...' ..." [he meant it in an agricultural way--they traded goods for services in those days--they didn't have much money in circulation--some Roman coins and some of those Widow's mites that are so important in the Christian fundraising methods]--"...'and I in return will replenish you 100 fold.' And, folks," "Doctor" Mike Murdoch continues, "I tell you in continuing that God has laid it upon my heart to..." [Christians still believe God resides in human hearts--and you scientifically ask, what about a heart transplant? They can't answer that one--what did Jesus (an illiterate) and those ignorant Jewish reformers know about heart transplants? They would have stoned you to death had you said you believed one day real doctors ("physicians" is a better word--check out its OED meaning!) would be able to transfer hearts from one body to another--"Blasphemer!" would have been the crime!] "...God has told me to back your seed offerings with my own harvest--for every $1000 seed sower who comes forward here tonight, I'm going to guarantee you every seed offering I make in the next 90 days I will offer as back up to your $1000 seed." When "Doctor" Mike is asked, "Hey, Doctor, I gave a $1000 seed offering to your ministry a year and a half ago and I ain't got nothin' yet except letters from you asking for more seeds--what the hell's going on?" "Doctor" Mike looks serious into the camera--his expression is one, "OH Hell, how do I trick-bag my way out of this one?--oh, I got it!"--the light bulb comes on over his head and the good ole Louisiana boy "Doctor" comes up with a winner. With that cocky look on his face, Mike says, "Brother, let me tell you. You want a mosquito harvest. By that I mean, a mosquito breeds and multiples in a matter of seconds--on the other hand there is an elephant harvest! It takes an elephant two years to give birth! You are expecting a mosquito harvest but perhaps God has an elephant harvest in mind for you--why, personally I've got several elephant harvests due me--in one case it's been 7 years..." [7 is an important numerological number to Christians--who like their Judaic ancestors practice numerology--the Islamics, too--7 is a lucky number all over the world with superstitious and unscientific believers--I mean, if you'll believe Jesus was born of an immaculate conception you'll believe then in elephant harvests]--"...so you see," continues "Doctor" Mike's flim-flam, "you just have to trust in God and his WISDOM...keep the faith...and if you don't, well, you ain't gettin' neither a mosquito or an elephant harvest." And Christian sucker, you've just been flim-flammed by a good ole Louisiana hoodwinker ("to hoodwink" a good old South verb, too).
"Doctor" Mike Murdoch is a prophet, a prophet of the god Chaos, for he, too, sees Chaos as the only hope for Christians--that time when supposedly, and why not believe this, too, Christians will disappear leaving stupid people who only have faith in scientific fact (whatever that is) behind (a good book is Philip Wylie's novel Disappearance--it's not a "left behind" book, there's nothing "Christian" about the man who wrote A Generation of Vipers). What a great day that will be when all the Christians disappear (Praise the Lard and pass me some of them biscuits and jelly)--and I'll be still growling but soon will be howling when I see humankind disappearing...probably through these continuous wars we people who keep on surviving will have to endure.
Jo Stafford, a band singer from the Swing Era, had a hit, when I was a bambino, called "Shrimp Boats Is a'Comin"--"Shrimp boats is'a comin', there's dancin' tonight/Shrimp boats is'a comin', their sails are in sight! Why don't you hurry, hurry, hurry home!" [see the full lyrics BELOW]. It was a song about the Louisiana shrimp boats going out every day and how the wives and children waited on the beaches every night to see if all the boats were coming in with the day's catch--or what boats didn't make it in case of a Gulf of Mexico storm! Morgan City, Louisiana, used to be the shrimp boat capitol of the world--New Iberia, too--and when I lived in New Orleans, I used to run over to Houma and then drive straight down south to Grand Isle--and all along the road would be women and children up on galvanized tin roofs of sheds on which they had laid out tons of shrimpers which they spread evenly out on those roofs in that hot tropical sun, tossing out a ton or two of cayenne pepper all over them as they baked in that free sun. All your dried shrimp in those "fresh fish" days came from down in that part of Louisiana.
I've not been able to get that stupid song out of my head for like 55 years, except now when it hits my mind, like it did when I started writing this about how I am gloating, instead of "shrimp boats is'a comin'" I sing "Chaos is'a comin', there's dancin' tonight/Chaos is'a comin', its sails are in sight."
In 1985, I got a job as a band singer. As a band singer, I found myself deliberately remembering and imitating Jo Stafford's singing style, because I, like Lester Young, liked Jo Stafford's voice--and when I was a band singer, I imitated her intonationally--she had what was called a "husky" voice in those days and I have a sort of high voice--I'm not a falsetto but I can do falsetto if I have to--I'll tell you all the truth--women love men falsetto singers--especially black women! (I'm sounding like Uncle Joe Biden here.) So in order to dampen my voice, gruff it up a bit, I'd think of Jo Stafford singing "Shrimp Boats Is'a Comin'" or "You Belong to Me," another of her hits--and suddenly I was hitting the notes just like Jo did, except no one in my audiences ever related my singing to Jo Stafford's--hell, most of that crowd didn't know who Jo Stafford was.
Jo Stafford: in her heyday.
In 1983, I started writing songs. By 1990, I had written right at 1000 songs. One day, it was hot as holy hell that day, I was writing a song and that god-damn "Shrimp Boats Is'a Comin'" kept comin' up in my head--I couldn't shake it--and soon I was singing it as "Chaos Is a'Comin'"--to the point that I said, hell, why not write a Hymn to Chaos--and I did--I worked feverishly on it--my "Hymn to Chaos." Not as a hymn to a god but a hymn to a distant coming, a second coming since the world was Chaos at one time in our distant past--so it is theoretically possible that we are reverting to our Chaotic past--just like the shrimp boats went out at dawn and didn't come back until eventide!
Well, guess what, folks? The sun is going down. Things are gonna get very Chaotic in the coming years--hell, in the coming months!
The USA is collapsing. Obama was a shooting star of hope to repel Chaos and welcome in instead Chaos's opposite side, Peace--could we say Peace and Chaos are running on parallel lines? Obama looked to me like, like Greg Palast is saying, too, a sort of a man-savior (I don't believe in saviors, please, I'm talking politics here and not reality)--let's say he had a chance to be a peacemaker, a man of decisive CHANGE--BUT NO! Politics doesn't work like that--Politics and Politicians are representatives of our collective Death Wish--aha, I got Freud and his horsehair couch (you LIE on) back into the picture.
Freud's Horsehair Consultation Couch (in his London consulting room)
A projected look at Chaos ( a computer model of it) can be a beautiful image--very colorful, filled with crazy fractals (fractionals)--filled with inconclusive (unpredictable)(variational) math problems scattered across a jumble of blackboards (a blackboard jumble).
One of the worst people Obama could have chosen for his running mate (I love these nautical analogies) is Joe "Backstepping" Biden--so who did Obama pick for his running mate?--you guessed it, Joe "Delaware Punch" Biden. The "liberal" blogs are joyous! We evil anarchists are joyous, too. Can it get any worse in this country? You bet it can. Will it? You bet it will. Check out your Fidelity account--or your 401K--or your household budgets. See the Chaos a'comin' into your life!
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To refresh your knowledge of Theoretical Chaos--a new science by the way, here's a good explanation of modern Chaos. www.imho.com/grae/chaos/chaos.html
For a really up-to-date look at Chaos, check out this journal: http://chaos.aip.org/
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Because of fractals, nothing is predictable in Chaos except EVERYTHING is eventually predictable in Chaos--that's the beauty of Chaos. Self-simularity it's called.
And why am I so gloating today? Because Obama chose the one goofus politician who will keep him from winning the national election, Joe Biden--Obama can't call him a "soul brother"--check out what Joe (when he was running for the fourth time--at the Iowa caucus in 2000--said about why schools in Delaware (the Du Ponts own Delaware, by the way) and Washington, District of Corruption, don't work so well, at least not as well as schools in Iowa--from jackandjillpolitics (a black bourgeoisie site, as they call it):
In what the Washington Post is describing as a “stumble,” Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden (he's run for president 4 times) said in an interview with the paper Wednesday that Washington’s high minority population is one of the reasons for the city’s education problems.
Explaining why schools in Iowa are performing better than those in Washington, D.C., Biden told the Post, “There’s less than one percent of the population of Iowa that is African American. There is probably less than four of five percent that are minorities. What is in Washington? So look, it goes back to what you start off with, what you’re dealing with.”
“When you have children coming from dysfunctional homes, when you have children coming from homes where there’s no books, where the mother from the time they’re born doesn’t talk to them — as opposed to the mother in Iowa who’s sitting out there and talks to them, the kid starts out with a 300 word larger vocabulary at age three. Half this education gap exists before the kid steps foot in the classroom,” the Delaware Democrat added.
The paper reports Biden’s campaign quickly sought to clarify the remarks, saying in a statement that the senator was not making a “race-based distinction.”
So there ya go. Obama picks who the Dumbocrat leadership told him to pick--he was given the following choices (maybe that great political wit Caroline Kennedy came up with these choices): Joe "Agent Orange (made in Delaware)" Biden, Evan Blah (Bayh), or the Governor of Virginia (a weirdo really--though he talks a progressive game). Obama picks Uncle Joe Biden, our modern day Joel Chandler Harris (I know, Who?). "More Tar Baby stories, Joe." But then, like I've said all along, folks, Obama's only half-black--he has that WHITE gloating in him! He's a Chaos theory at work--Obama fits a Mandelbaum Blot! He's a fractal portrait of a parallel-line man.
A Joe Biden Cartoon
A Great Name for Him: Joe "Foot in Mouth" Biden
Way to go, Obama--but then, you didn't really have much to choose from. Just make sure Joe doesn't start talking his White Race Theory shit--remember, Joe's never known poverty--hell, he's never had to deal with having black skin--hell, this son of a bitch is nothing more than just another stupid, crooked, two-faced politician--like Obama's turning out to be.
Anarchy is my hope--that's what Chaos is to me--a fractal world where you create your own political situation--YOU--and your self-similarities commune--to survive in Chaos we'll have to be dark in our intellectual visions--but then, from out of darkness comes the Sun--and the Sun is really King of Chaos--and as George Gamov taught us, the Sun is dying--that's a Chaotic point right there!
thegrowlingwolf
for The Daily Growler
Lyrics to "Shrimp Boats Is a'Comin'" (lyrics by Paul Howard/music by Jo Stafford's husband, Paul Weston)
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
(Shrimp boats is a-comin', there's dancin' tonight)
(SLOWLY):
They go to sea with the evenin' tide
And their women folk wave their good-bye
(Ill sant vas... There they go)
While the Louisiana moon floats on high
And they wait for the day they can cry...
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
(Shrimp boats is a-comin', there's dancin' tonight)
(SLOWLY):
Happy the days while they're mending the nets
'Til once more they ride high out to sea
(Ill sant vas... There they go)
Then how lonely the long nights will be
'Til that wonderful day when they see...
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' there's dancin'
There's dancin' there's dancin'
Shrimp boats is a-comin' - tonight!
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
(Shrimp boats is a-comin', there's dancin' tonight)
(SLOWLY):
They go to sea with the evenin' tide
And their women folk wave their good-bye
(Ill sant vas... There they go)
While the Louisiana moon floats on high
And they wait for the day they can cry...
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
(Shrimp boats is a-comin', there's dancin' tonight)
(SLOWLY):
Happy the days while they're mending the nets
'Til once more they ride high out to sea
(Ill sant vas... There they go)
Then how lonely the long nights will be
'Til that wonderful day when they see...
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' tonight
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Why don't-cha hurry, hurry, hurry home
Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin'
There's dancin' there's dancin'
There's dancin' there's dancin'
Shrimp boats is a-comin' - tonight!
1 comment:
Thanks for talking about the shrimp boat song. It has been haunting me for over 50 years.
I recently got a copy on a CD, so now I can listen to it to my heart's content (and tear up at times). All kinds of memories -- first of all very haunting to a 5or 6 year old with all the background additional voices eg deep, high, and scary. My mom would explain to me the words or concepts I did not understand at the time, eg what was Louisiana, or shrimp boats, or how could Louisiana have its own moon, etc etc. And in the song they say cry as in shout, not literally crying, which also threw me. On top of all that, my Dad in real life was gone overseas to the Korean war for 12 months (he made it back).
Wile he was gone, YOU BELONG TO ME was also on the charts. But don't forget how Jo Stafford also covered the Hank Williams song
JUMBALAYA.
Please let me know what you think.
rhdmich@hotmail.com
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