RaiNY DaY...DReaM AwaY...
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Coordinated Misdirection....:-} Thank you for the last post with the Jimi music...I enjoy your posting's very much thank you.
Looks like a Giant Credit Default Swap.
Soon, The CryBabies will want a Notional Infusion.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRCTT9lpafU&feature=channel_video_title ...good rainy day tune.
.....the vagina immediately below and between the bodacious ta-tas.....interesting juxtaposition. I like it. Sure beats the currrent setup.
twitter.com@BarackObama
tis a quaint scene and all, but...
our president was totally unaware of michelle's imbibery, as he was tending tenderly to one reggie "love" (yes, love, is the surname of our president's "body man" -- can't make this shit up).
where is dubya when you need him?
well, if i had to guess, i'd say he's beneath the girth of some "bulldog-butch-top" like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MHUhfQ1q_JE&playnext=1&list=PL4B8891C45C1F2831
i hate to tell all you red-blooded/deer-huntin/shit-kickin bush voters that your cowboy president would have been far more comfortable on the set of, say, Oklahoma, than in Oklahoma itself. think whatever you like, though.
i'll only say that for the last twenty years there has been a concerted effort to cull our 'leaders' from the ranks of the homosexual -- for obvious blackmail reasons. this isn't a matter of speculation or deduction, i have it on the best imaginable authority. now, the strangest aspect to all of this is just how cavalier they've become...i mean to say, toe tappin in airports, gay escorts spending the night in the executive orafice (secret service records show that gannon spent the night at least 14 times)...which is why they let obama bring his in the white house and set up residence.
i'll also say that i don't judge these men for their sexual proclivities(boarding school boys like bush are usually victimized early, and ole obama havin no father, well, i'll give him the benefit on that); rather, it is the unimaginable perfidy to which they've devoted themselves -- wholesale slaughter of any and every brown-skinned person we can get our hands on, predatory capitalism, and, most of all, YOU HAVE BETRAYED THE AMERICAN MIDDLE CLASS. For this they and their families will suffer unimaginable savagery -- the torments due the damned. IT IS WRITTEN.
ps. rick perry is likewise gay...i guess that whole texas 'steers and queers' thing was truer than we thought.
signed,
Janus
Mr. Banzai,
There are many things that are bothering me about Irene, much of which I'm unable to articulate...
Still churning it around in my head, but across the spectrum I don't believe We have handled it well.
Whether it be lagging or leading (of course it is both), the indicators with regard to "our society" are haunting, and they're not beautiful.
I wonder if Jimi would've been sorta kinda numb by now, too.
The Hurricane is a serious thing. But the media has turned it into a weekend cartoon event.
Jimi could have pushed it, but no one would let him.
S & P Just downgraded Irene to a sun shower
Right Willie!!!... I think we better wait till tomorrow!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAFaV1SrOqI
Hurricanes are truly awesome. They start as a simple breeze thousands of miles away and come to tear us all apart weeks later.
It's good that there are still a few things that can strike fear in us.
IT all begins with a butterfly, winging it's way from flower to flower.
Thanks William for this. Your art is so simple and direct--almost archetypal, like God's joke on humans. Open a box of crackers, find a hurricane. It won't leave me alone!
Love the Hendrix cut too. Good luck to the East Coasters.
SS
The Eye Of Irene
the black hole machine
cracks in the obelisk
Libyain Spring
Krugman's Alien dream?
Mr. Robinson ain't got no damn icecream!
What helicopter ...and who is Ben anyway man?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NPKOD5lmTo&feature=related
you people are going ape-sheet over a pissant little cat 1 storm that will barely be a hurricane by the time it gets to gnu yawk shitty.
what a bunch of weenies.
+ 10^+
Well just like the Carpenters sang "Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down."
Latest Reportz
Prezident ObamaRAMA cutz shorts hiz VACATION to "deal with the storm"
Today's woman could learn a lesson on how to dress from that lady waiting at the train station. Damn!
She would look attractive in anything, or less...
http://www.bungersurf.com/Bunger_Surfcam/
gilgo surf cam
.
times square cam
http://www.earthcam.com/usa/newyork/timessquare/
.
"Swindler"...haven't heard that slick & slimy but very appropriate word for awhile. Here is a good one also:
pres·ti·dig·i·ta·tion (prst-dj-tshn)
n.1. Performance of or skill in performing magic or conjuring tricks with the hands; sleight of hand. 2. A show of skill or deceitful cleverness. [French (influenced by prestigiateur, juggler, conjurer, from prestige, illusion), from prestidigitateur, conjurer : preste, nimble (from Italian presto; see presto) + Latin digitus, finger; see digit.]
Here is something to help you survive the hurricane coverage:
http://seacoos.org/Community%20and%20Classroom/hurricane-classroom/hurri...
Hurricane Bingo!
I came for the Hendrix
I stayed for the fuzz
tube-type or transistor
ZH is the buzz!
WildBill,
funny this hurricane and all...i just so happened to be chatting with my ole buddy ST coleridge last night, and his thoughts on this irene thing are as follows:
The very deep did rot: O Christ!/
That ever this should be!/
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea./
About, about, in reel and rout/
The death-fires danced at night;/
The water, like a witch's oils,/
Burnt green, and blue, and white.../
And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The moon was at its edge.
The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.
but it didn't end there...oh, no! when you get a fella like coleridge goin, well, just look out. he's liable to steer his screed in any ole direction. but, as luck would have it, his comments were germaine to everything you've addressed above -- up to and including 'the scream'...but i'll get to that later. for now, incline your ear to his pitch-perfect rendering of our economic miasma:
(lemme give you some context; just in case you're not agile with Biblical allegory, romantic poetry and the like: it's important to recognize that the woman herein described is none other than the great whore of babylon (who rides atop the beast, drinking a cup brimmin over with iniquities, dressed in scarlet -- i think you get where i'm going with this) for our purposes, we'll call this bitch, "ben bernake", and she represents everything callow and craven in washington and wall street. so the whole world's waiting till september while peril swells from every quarter, every soul from every shore with attention trained on the munificent mouth of this forelorn and mangy bitch. but, as the world will soon know, those teats are haggard dustbins)
"There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye -
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.
At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.
See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!
The western wave was all a-flame,
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.
And straight the sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres?
Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that Woman's mate?
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
`The game is done! I've won! I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.
We listened and..."
powerful stuff, i know. but if you're thinkin to yourself, 'sam coleridge, that's all fine and dandy, and you do have a certain agency with words, but would you mind bottling the ends? we don't have all day, as you well know', fret no more, he's anxious to bring this thing full circle:
"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.
I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.
I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came and made
My heart as dry as dust.
I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
Forthe sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky,
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.
The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.
An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.
The moving moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside -
Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
Beyond the shadow of the ship
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.
O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware"
not that you'd ever want to encourage coleridge, but there's something left to say; and i say let the man say what needs sayin
How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two voices in the air.
`Is it he?' quoth one, `Is this the man?
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross.
The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow.'
The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, `The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.'
Part VI
First Voice
But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing -
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?
Second Voice
Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast -
If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.
First Voice
But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
Second Voice
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.
"I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;
The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the moon did glitter.
The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.
And now this spell was snapped: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen -
Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring -
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze -
On me alone it blew.
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The lighthouse top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own country?
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray -
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.
(okay, then yadda, yadda, yadda -- a few prophetic warnings this, a little hope for the future that -- and he seals our economy's fate with this little stanza:
"Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead"
Fine, you may say, but what's the take-away from all this? glad you asked:
I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
`Ha! ha!' quoth he, `full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row.'
And now, all in my own country,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.
O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!
The Hermit crossed his brow.
`Say quick,' quoth he `I bid thee say -
What manner of man art thou?'
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach."
and, finally, some closing thoughts and that hope i alluded to above:
Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone; and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.
He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn
so you see, even genius is a sucker for a happy ending.
dang, I was just a young piglet when I started looking at this post. - Ned
why, hell, ned! i'm a country boy; if there's anything i can do better than anyone on ZH it's swellin a hog belly.
pig-pig-pig hoooeeeeeeyyyy!
The wedding guest then beat his breast for he heard the loud bassoon.
That is my line.
Culture of this kind in also welcome in my house. Mugs are beautiful but optional ;-)
WildBill is likewise welcome in the janus home (i've got a good feelin about you, Mr. Banzai) anytime; even if it's only to stop by and use the can.
it's very tough to get to janus, but i admit that i was a bit shaken having read these deprecatory comments regarding coleridge and his triumph for Beauty and Truth. for a moment there i was thinking, 'fuck this revolution shit -- it's time for noah's flood redux. these worthless creatures don't deserve to draw another breath if they're not going to exercize the diaphram to some positive end...or at the very least get out of the way of those who do.'
so, WildBill, your comment may have just saved all of humanity from a very soggy fate...heroic ain't the word for it.
now, haters, don't take it all sore-like...janus is free and flexible with the hyperbole when it comes to defending Dead Poet's. watch out for my barbaric yawp, bitchez!
Janus - you seem to have a great deal to say however I think it gets a little mixed up for some of us in the tones of your vernacular. Thanks for sharing the poem. I must now go and reread the full version as I am a budding "hack" sailor who dreams of ocean passage :)
i have every confidence that you'll get the hang of it...it's all about the cadence and rythym. the biggest difficulty for me is the lack of Biblical knowledge outside dixie. my stuff is littered with it; and i can see how some of the illusions may be odd for the uninitiated.
but i long for blue-water every day of my life. thoughts of the sea's freedom seal my nights and open my days.
strength unto strength,
janus
(see, i just did it again...without even thinking -- to me this stuff is like vocabulary itself...when i say "strength unto strength", i'm referring to a passage in psalms, wherein David is illustrating the triumphs of holy warriors through allegory; if i remember correctly, Calvin's exegence was something to this effect: 'the faithful will enoble oneanother, buttressing victory with greater victory, until we stand, shoulder to shoulder, before the Lord in Zion...so, i can see what you're sayin -- but coleridge and, really, every single writer of genius is far worse than i am; seems genius has a fetish for the Bible...moreover, you're really not going to even approach anything resembling meaning in coleridge without a thorough knowledge of Scripture; lemme know if you get hung up on anything )
Are you reading that from a teleprompter?
duke of marlboro indeed! leave me all alone to repel nonsense and rebuke fools, will you?
well, now that i have that out of the way, all is forgiven and it's good to see again. hope your holiday was peaceful and depraved...yes, mine was likewise satisfactory.
PS. i'm embarrased to admit how much of it has been committed to memory -- greatest English epic ever penned.
like the cut of your jib Sir.
What the fuck?
culture, bitch! git you some.
and, to address this issue, i'll say that sure, it's a fucking tragedy janus took up a few extra digitally encoded bits to try and broadcast a few rays of goodness into your bleak little world(s). i pity you all. really, the only sound recommendation i can make is suicide -- remember to slice the wrist vertically, lest you only wound yourself superfically and face yet another sour failure. best of luck in that regard.
furthermore, yes, that is by far the longest thing i've ever posted; and there is a reason for its length. we are headed into a few interesting weeks...so keep that "what the fuck?" question handy; you're gonna need it.
you would be wise to read those lines with an eye to its finer points; but what am i sayin, for you there's no praying, you're only your father's son.
the Good Book tried to warn me about haters like y'all, what with the whole 'cast not thy pearls before swine' and all...someday i'll learn my lesson i suppose.
for now i'll leave you with the words of ole JC (don't worry, it's short; but, brother does He ever speak a mouthful!):
"and here is the condemnation: behold, light did but enter the world, and men preferred the darkness instead."
Alas Janus, a prophet has no honor in his own country.
perhaps my favorite scene from scripture:
here you've got the 'townies' of nazareth, all apoplectic as you please, tryin to make sense of this Jesus and his strange new ideas...and as is always the case in small towns, it's best to just get rid of that which we don't understand. so, a sort-of impromtu lynch-mob congeals about The Lamb of God, they gather Him up, hoist Him high and then cast Him down a small precipice. i just love the image of these indignant, provincial rubes carting the King of kings and Lord of lords right off the edge of a cliff...has a sort of symmetry to it (especially considering what happens later in golgatha).
ah, but, "the Stone the builders rejected shall become the Chief Cornerstone"
and again
"and whosoever shall fall on this Stone shall be broken; but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him into the dust."
wall street, washington...cast your eyes skyward, it's raining Stones!
It's rainin Stones/
hallelujah, it's rainin Stones/
every specimin,
janus
I'm with Careless Whisper. WAYYYYYY TOOOOOO LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!
thank you, mr. beale. the ladies tend to like it almost as much as you. i try not to brag and all that, but when someone notices my special purpose, well, i do admit it makes me proud...just don't stare -- it's equally embarrasing for me when i catch you.
you must atone, mr. beale.
How do you know I am not a woman?
Do you know if you are a woman?
and for the condensed musical version-
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Full Lengthdewd, this is valuable real estate. if you're going to occupy so much space, the least you can do is buy a few t-shirts from billybanzai.
At Sofitel did DS Kahn
A back door booty fest decree
Where Skank, the Guinean trollop ran
A number of alleged scams
And might have HIV.
I don't know where that came from..
Must be the opium.
Sunless sea is coming.
i am mug shopping as we speak.
ps. coleridge is alway entitled to whatsoever real estate he so chooseth. it's his perogative...he can do just what he feels.
The Holocaust, Israel’s most powerful PsyOps weapon
Whose Congress and State Department? Americans who like Israel and everything that pertains to itWhy does Eric Cantor place Israel's needs above those of Virginia? Simple. He is PAID to do that, some $200,000 from AIPAC and other pro-Israel groups!
bunch of hype for a pussy of a storm