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Say Goodbye to: Van Cliburn, a young man from Texas who went over to the Soviet Union and wowwed 'em playing Tchaikovsky. When I was a little kid, Van's mother tweaked me on my cheek and called me a 'good little boy' after hearing me play a Chopin Etude. I never met Van, but my brother did. Van Cliburn, 78, American pianist, bone cancer.
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Say Goodbye to: Marie-Claire Alain, one of the greatest organists of all time. A student of Maurice Durufle and Marcel Dupre and teacher of U.S.'s George C. Baker. Marie-Claire Alain, 86, French organist. Watch Marie-Claire playing Bach on one of the world's great organs; check out her amazing pedal work...Bach ain't easy to play, folks.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2oCX9woz9U
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Say Goodbye to Magic Slim, while you enjoy going back to Mississippi with him:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sp1KqDOs9wo
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Say Goodbye to Cleotha Staple, of the Staples Singers. Cleotha had the deep voice of the three sisters...she's the one who stood to the left of Pops (Roebuck). She was the only sister born in the Mississippi Delta. Here's the Staples Singers doing "Why Am I Treated So Bad," so cool, at the Monterrey Jazz Festival in the early 1960s. Real honest religion, eh?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFBHOtN5ssc
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Existing With a Bitch of a Cold
Trying to think through sneezing fits and with a head full of what feels like scrambled eggs, the runny kind, like I use to love in huevos rancheros, is like trying to think in Russian when you only speak English. A cold. A god-damned cold. I hate colds. They are totally useless. I went from not ever having colds prior to my heart attack to now having a cold every few months. My immune system must be shot to hell by the many meds I take daily. I know, I'm an anti-pharmaceutical dissident.
When I have a cold, I find it impossible to think beyond the handiness of the nearest tissue (that for me is toilet paper...the kind the bears who shit in the woods use) should my beezer start dripping or I suffer a marathon sneezing attack. If it weren't for the insanity of television for me to laugh my ass off at, I'd go stir-crazy.
For the best guffaws while suffering a cold (a pestilence, I assume, sent by all the gods hand-in-hand against a nonbeliever like myself), I watch Christian television. Unbelievable what Christian idiots sincerely believe. Now that I can no longer find Pastor Melissa Scott on any of my Jesus-Jive channels (her beauty and sexuality brought me closer to God than I've ever been), my favorite Jesus-peddlers are The Reverend Jack Van Impe, Doctor (Doctor of Holy Jive) Mike Murdoch, and the totally insane Reverend Rod Parsley.
Like last night while my nose was running with Olympic fervor and between bouts of unholy sneezing, I watched old Brother Jack Van Impe (of course Jack's a Doctor, too) preaching a great fire and brimstone sermon based on several things that that creepy old Godless fart, Henry Kissinger (Henry being a Jew, according to Christian piety-pushers, though now a nonbeliever, will get a second chance to accept Joshua ben Joe as the Messiah since he's of God's chosen folk), had said a couple of months back about Barack Hussein Obama being the god-like head (the anti-Christ in Christian terminology) of the New World Order, terrorists (al-Queda) stealing Pakistan's nuclear arsenal and using those nukes against the Good Ole USA, Iran developing nuclear weapons, and a coming nuclear war led by a combo of Russia, China, and Iran against poor little helpless Israel. Jack was whooping it up madly, slinging out scripture verses like a human machine-gun to back up his claim that all our coming history was already laid out for us in this combination book of Jewish legend and the New Testament fable of Jesus the Christians call the Holy Bible.
Then on down the channels I came upon Dr. Mike Murdoch troweling for money in the seas of believers pockets, billfolds, and bank accounts. Old Mike was "looking" for 70 of the faithful to "plant a seed" of one thousand bucks in the ministry of a truly mad idiot of a Christian medicine man, the Reverend Rod Parsley.
Rod (I'm sure he's probably a Doctor, too) Parsley fightin' Old Ned
According to Dr. Mike and his disciples, if 70 of these numbskull believers plant a thousand-dollar seed in God's garden, God's gonna open up the heavens and spill dollars back down on them like manna on the Chillin' of Israel when they were trapped out in the wilderness way back when they were Chaldeans. I'm thinking, wait a damn minute, if God's already got bales of money up in the Central Bank of Hebbin', then why the hell does he need 70 goofballs to scratch up a thousand bucks a piece to keep Dr. Mike Murdoch and the Reverend Rod Parsley in Rolex watches, Armani suits, Mercedes, and Rolls-Royces?
Doctor Mike Murdoch
After watching these Christian clowns scheming to part the faithful from their meager savings, I've come to the conclusion that the true GOD of us all IS MOOLAH...Money! Moolah is the God not only of Christians, Muslims, Terrorists, the U.S. Armed Forces, but also of every man, woman, and jack in the world. Warren "Junk Bond" Buffett even though he's worth billions still bows down at the feet of the mighty Moolah praying for even more billions, currently so he and a group of hedge fund preying mantises can take over the Heinz Empire (Brother John Kerry's source of endless bucks through old Charlie Heinz' ex-wife).
Money truly does make the world go 'round. Like I said, it doesn't matter if you are Christian, Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Atheist, already a billionaire, or as poor as Job's turkey, we're all on a daily basis striving to get our grubby little hands on a bale of large-denomination bucks. Go to any gambling casino and look at the suckers lined up by the thousands praying for their God to load them down with a jackpot. Check out the number of fools still falling for the Nigerian money scams. Go in the stores where they sell Lotto tickets and scratch offs and watch the idiots buying hundreds of dollars worth of chances to hit that week's Lotto jackpot, even though it plainly states on the backs of Lotto tickets that your chances of hitting a Lotto jackpot are 20 billion to one.
Dr. Mike Murdoch brags openly about loving money, about having several mansions, about having Gulf Stream jets, about having his own private zoo. And old Dr. Mike is such a sleazy bastard...he's sleazy looking from the get go, with his dyed hair and dyed beard lighting up his devil head and framing his devil face. Yet, in spite of my cold, I laugh my ass off watching old Dr. Mike scam the fool Christians (Holy Rollers getting rolled) out of their hard-earned bucks.
Pastor Melissa Scott, still the official The Daily Growler spiritual guide and Holy sex object.
thegoingtohellforsuregrowling wolf
for The Daily Growler
Keeping Up With the Sun (Our Real God)
CHANCE OF FLARES: New sunspot AR1678 has developed a delta-class magnetic field that harbors energy for strong explosions. NOAA forecasters estimate a 45% chance of M-flares and a 15% chance of X-flares during the next 24 hours. Solar flare alerts: text, voice.
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