i don't see no jets

mental masturbation

but what will they think?... 

you ask your self... 

"they'll think terrible things about you"... 

what the hell did you think they were going to think?... 

 they think terrible things about you anyhow... 

 that's what thinking is about... 

it's about terrible things...

The "Conspiracy Theory" Conspiracy

scare crow

Ricky Gervais reads the Bible

The Boys in the Band

The Tufted Fabric circa 1854 at the time of the release
of their debut album 'The Circus of Phenomenology.'

Sometimes sumptin has to be less to accomplish more

B

ut I am all kinds of serious this Superbowl Sunday. The game against Carolina is a Roach test of sensibilities if not intelligence. You have black vs white, hip hop rap alot against country, and I am not talking about the supposed rift between PFK and Patches in the room. I am not talking about the first non dog fighting "black quarterback" Cam Newton. I have always wondered what would have happened if we had drafted OJ. Obviously the shaved ape would be long dismembered and a bloody hockey glove found somewhere. But it would be small and when they did the Cinderella test, it would only fit DDD.


What I am talking about is the lizard brain ability to live in a constant state of disbelief. This is what makes the fans rise when a team with no hope goes on a march. Its like we all expect the Black Knight in Monty python to recover from his flesh wounds in time for the big joust, and win the rose and live happily ever after with the 19 year old princess though he be well over fifty.

I am talking about the trouble with Kansas here. For which our tank is a real life metaphor. We know tanking is our only hope, yet we want to win so bad we will commit slow suicide in lou of instant gratification beating down the downtrodden who share our foxhole. Bob Dylan expressed the sentiment this way " those who want to pull you down into the hole they are already in"

Everybody knows where the foot came from. The Anglos with all their asshattery decided it was a system of measurement. The French with their love of a good idea went all metric. How can EMty be French, his last good idea was to stop saying his players where the worst at something in the world, but yet we know he still thinks that way. If only he could skate shoot and score he would be able to explain the incomprenible mess that is his brain on ice.

Back to foot prints which are used to identify babies, I do not know who choose thats not a finger paint on the document but sigh, I cant explain everything and most people do not care why. The big footprint is the one you leave on the planet. Giants of there times have stomped the land, crushing or impressing there peers in titanic accomplishments. Yet in his most poetic moment they are as George W Bush said in history all dead. If a person is a drop in the ocean making a small wave, how many will be a platform to surf? Hardly anyone. How many will create a Tsunami, only the most rare.

Looking back how many hockey players will transcend time. Gretzky for sure even though I hate him cause he thinks Harper had a good stick. The Rocket and that's about it.

Look back a thousand years who stands out. Shakespeare which for me is beyond reason. Another player who struts on the stage full of sound and fury but to me is only puking incomphrensive rap on my lap. Beethoven for sure, and Mozart, are you catching a theme here people, the real hero's are artist. Not generals, not hacks, not manipulators of fact. Sill talking foot prints. How many footprints do you need to smother a planet? Its not an infinite number its a fact of nature.

Global warming deniers and anti tank providers share the same mentality. Sometimes something has to be less to be more.

roswell alien and debris films (six fingers)

Musical Quotes 2

"Pay no attention to what the critics say...

Remember, a statue has never been set up in honor of a critic!"

Jean Sibelius

Thanks to Heath Robinson 1872 to 1944

Edward St. John Gorey

tattoo

Musical Quotes 1

"There are and there will be thousands of princes. There is only one Beethoven."

Ludwig Van Beethoven

Mach Stem

Spinoza

God exists and is abstract and impersonal.

 

 

U F O

robot dreams

girl robot

the public be damned !

Aftermath by Siegfried Sassoon

Have you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.

Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'

Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads--those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?

Have you forgotten yet?...
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.

Gilbert and George Bend It

Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal

 Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font.
The firefly wakens; waken thou with me.

Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake.
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.


By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
 

Heil Trump

sanyu

koda

stay focused

The Tyranny of Big Oil

X-files twitter feed

Tweets about x-files LIVE
Tweets about x-files LIVE

Andromeda

Political Language

BIRDY NAM NAM - 'GOIN' IN'

the wingmakers

Wingmakers

Bertrand Russell on Religion

ufo cow abduction

ufo cow abduction

Truth Revealed - Noam Chomsky versus Sam Harris

Leon

Leon the professional