Russia and Georgia and Lola

I've been doing a lot studying up on this conflict between Russia and Georgia.

If I understand things correctly and according to some very reliable bullshit, Russia invaded Georgia because Georgian troops were in South Ossetia kissing babies, helping little old ladies across the street, and handing out sandwiches to the homeless . . . and NOT massacring people.

With that in mind, and in light of these completely one sided atrocities committed by Russian troops, I think the best strategy the US should take is to NOT go to the same meetings Russia will be attending. After all, Russia's standing in the world has been substantially besmirched because they invaded another country, and who wants to sit at the same table with a nation whose standing in the world has been substantially besmirched because they invaded another country? I mean other than the nations that have to sit down at meetings with us . . . at the same table. I wonder if the other nations are in lock-step with Bush because they want to be . . . or have to be? Or perhaps they might be thinking that this is just one more gigantic example of Bush’s gross incompetence.


On the surface, things aren't always what they appear to be.

I leave you with this:

Brittany and Chris

Im not much at a Brittany fan, in fact, I'm not a fan at all, however, I hold no illusions as to what all the coverage on her was about. It was the god-damned corporate media in search of the bottom line. I like Chris Crocker tho, cuz he irritates people . . . especially those with a conservative bent. The following is a video of Brittany defending Chris . . . who, after all, was only defending Brittany . . . on a Tues . . . I think.

I personally believe / The Best is Yet to Come

I have nothing to say, and a lot of time to say it. Remember when Miss Teen South Carolina was asked a question about 1/5 of all Americans not being able to find the US of America on a map, and what her solution to that problem would be?

Well, a few minutes ago I ran into this.





I leave you with this

Rickey Lee Jones / One of my Favorites

So unexpected . . . so beautiful.

I ran across this the other day:

Keep looking through the same window pane

The first time I heard this song was when I saw the movie, Collateral. I didn't have to listen to it again to realize how much I liked it

I leave you with this song from the movie:




I like some of Tom Cruise's movies, and Collateral is one of them. Amazing!

I’ll have a Schlitz and some Dentyne / Her hair is Harlow gold

I leave you with this:

Fredo can't find any work? / Ah, my mind's such a sweet thing.

It saddens me to learn that Fredo can't find a job. I wonder if it has anything to do with the following.



The man just doesn't interview well. And far be it for me to judge anyone's eating habits, but it sure seems like cannibalism should be an automatic disqualification for just about any job out there. However, I don't see cannibalism as something that should get in the way of the tolerance!

Damn my open-minded ways!





I leave you with this:

Glory!!! / but I've been to Oklahoma

IT'S A MIRACLE!!!!!



I leave you with something a bit more secular:

For what it's worth / Peter Fetchner / What's the point?

Peter Fechter (January 14, 1944 – August 17, 1962) was a bricklayer from East Berlin, who at the age of eighteen became one of the first victims of the Berlin Wall's border guards. About one year after the construction of the wall, Fechter attempted to flee from the GDR (German Democratic Republic)together with hisfriend Helmut Kulbeik. The plan was to hide in a carpenter's workshop near the wall in Zimmerstrasse and, after observing the border guards from there, to jump out of a window into the so-called death-strip (a strip running between the main wall and a parallel fence which they had recently started to construct), run across it, and climb over the two metre (6.5 ft) wall topped with barbed wire into the Kreuzberg district of West Berlin near Checkpoint Charlie. While both reached the wall, guards fired at them. Although Kulbeik succeeded in crossing the wall, Fechter, still on the wall, was shot in the pelvis in plain view of hundreds of witnesses. He fell back into the death-strip on the Eastern side, where he remained in view of Western onlookers, including journalists. Despite his screams, he received no medical assistance either from the East or the West side. He bled to death after about an hour. My source is Wikipedia.

For what it's worth, the song I posted was written in 1967 as a protest song against the Viet Nam war, and while Peter died 5 years earlier in East Germany, it was all part of the same fucked up landscape. I'm afraid we haven't made much progress since then. The name of the song is actually "For What It's Worth" by Buffalo Springfield
I saved this last 8/27/07 on my pc. I'm not really sure why, but something led me to this last August. Anyway, it's late at night now, and since I tend to be a bit less "bubbly" late at night/early in the am, here it is. Somehow knowing stuff like this helps me keep my bubble a bit more centered. I don't dwell on it, it's just stuff I know. It's a bit strange, but that's how I operate. You should see some of the other stuff I have saved on my hard drive. Perhaps at a later date you will. It's nothing absolutely disgusting and totally sick, it's just stuff most people wouldn't bother to find out [let alone keep]. Peter Fetchner laid there moaning and simply bled to death because of view points at odds with each other. So fucking pointless.
The current administration in Washington seems to have a "Just to be safe, let's torture everyone." attitude, so ugly behavior isn't exclusive to everyone but Americans. Just because our policies are probably less ugly than the policies of many many other governments, that doesn't make it right. So fucking dangerous.
But tomorrow is a new day and while praising God for all His beautiful pageantry is one option to make us feel better, I opt to just get a good night sleep instead. It's far easier [no slaughtering animals or entire civilizations] and dogma-free.

"Isn't it good, Norwegian wood?"/ Interview DOs and DON'Ts

I was going to do a piece on effective interviews, but then I asked myself, "What the fuck do I care about interviews?" Well, I don't. The following is shamelessly hilarious. One or both of these clips are fake. If they are both fake, at least one of these is pure genius. The lady blowing her nose is a nice touch.







I leave you with this:

You re-arrange me till I'm sane. / "Well, I can only speculate as to reasons why . . . "

This is one of my favorite scenes from one of my very favorite movies. When I first saw this I could almost hear the wheels in my head turning. I've never experienced a movie so intense, so funny, so depressing, so everything, including the music . . . especially the music. I realized that we're all sane or we're all bat-shit crazy . . . some more than others. I wish this clip was a bit longer, but it's long enough. Actually, there are so many great scenes from this movie, that they are all my favorite.









I leave you with this:

Then peace will guide the planets. And love will steer the stars / Damn . . . I'm what?

I ran across this years ago and loved it. Your Horoscope . . . a second opinion

Your Horoscope
Aquarius–> Jan. 20-Feb 18 You have an inventive mind and are inclined to be progressive. You lie a great deal. You make the same mistakes repeatedly because you are stupid. Everyone thinks you’re a fucking jerk.
Pisces–>Feb.19-Mar. 20 You are a pioneer type and think most people are dick-heads. You are quick to reprimand, impatient and scornful of advice. You do nothing but piss-off everyone you come in contact with. You are a prick.
Aries–>Mar. 21-Apr.19 You have a wild imagination and often think you are being followed by the FBI and CIA. You have minor influence on you friends and people resent you for flaunting your power. You lack self confidence and are a general dip-shit.
Taurus–>Apr. 20-May 20 You are practical and persistent. You have a dogged determination and work like hell. Most people think you’re stubborn and bull-headed. You are nothing but a goddamned communist.
Gemini–>May 21-June 20 You are a quick and intelligent thinker. People like you because you are bisexual. You are inclined to expect too much for too little. This means you are a cheap bastard. Gemini’s are notorious for thriving on incest.
Cancer–>June 22-July 22 You are sympathetic and understanding to other people’s problems, which makes you a sucker. You are always putting things off. That is why you will always be on welfare and won’t be worth a shit. Everyone in prison is a Cancer
Leo–>July 23-Aug.22 You consider yourself a born leader. Others think you are an idiot. Most Leo’s are bullies. You are vain and cannot tolerate criticism. Your arrogance is disgusting. Leo people are thieving mother-fuckers and enjoy masturbation more than sex.
Virgo–>Aug, 23-Sept. 22 You are the logical type and hate disorder. Your shit-picking attitude is sickening to your friends and co-workers. You are cold, unemotional, and often fall asleep while fucking. Virgo’s make good bus drivers and pimps.
Libra–>Sept.23-Oct. 21 You are the artistic type and have difficult time dealing with reality. If you are male, you are queer. Chances for employment and monetary gain are nil. Most Libra women are whores. All Libra’s die of venereal disease.
Scorpio–>Oct.24-Nov.21 The worst of the lot. You are a shrewd in business and cannot be trusted. You shall achieve the pinnacle of success because of your lack of ethics. You are a perfect son-of-a-bitch. Most Scorpios are murdered.
Sagittarius–>Nov.22-Dec.21 You are optimistic and enthusiastic. You have a reckless tendency to rely on luck since you have no talent.. The majority of Sagitarians are drunks. You are a worthless piece of shit.
Capricorn–>Dec.22-Jan.19 You are conservative and afraid of risk. You are basically a chicken-shit. There has never been a Capricorn of any importance.. You should kill yourself








I leave you with this:

I'm in the high-fidelity first class traveling set/BULLSHIT

I read a story about the pentagon awarding a 22-year-old a $300 million contract to provide ammunition to Afghanistan. The ammo he procurred was from old Soviet stockpiles located throughout the old eastern bloc . . . in other words . . . it was mostly unusable. I assume that, at best, this gentlemen is no more than only slightly more qualified than I am, so it gives me great hope knowing that even the little guy, given the right motivation, can feed at the same trough as the big boys [Blackwater, Halliburton, et al]. Truly . . . the world is my oyster.

I leave you with this:

Four Norwegian guys

I think this is a stunning rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah". LOL>> Not only that, but after watching this video for the 100th/200th time, I finally noticed that there's a guy sitting there for no apparent reason.

Beware of soft shoe shufflers / Dancing down the sidewalks / Beware of Maya

I've always liked this song by [former Beatle] George Harrison. And even though I'm an athiest, and I feel the need to discuss what "It's all part of God's beautiful pageantry" can possibly mean to a rational person, I won't. I think George was heavily influenced by Hinduism and "Maya" is some type of diety. I read somewhere about Maya and an elephant being somehow connected. This song is also done by Leon Russell on his "Shelter People" album. I like his version as well. George died and you'll read alot of things on this video that praise his life. I liked George Harrison, but I never had deep thoughts about him. So what you read isn't necessarily a reflection on my opinions. I liked the guy and I like song. Both versions are posted here.


Ain't nothing like the Hindu touch on Easter Sunday, eh?






Lyrics:
Watch out now, take care
Beware of falling swingers
Dropping all around you
The pain that often mingles
In your fingertips
Beware of darkness

Watch out now, take care
Beware of the thoughts that linger
Winding up inside your head
The hopelessness around you
In the dead of night

Beware of sadness
It can hit you
It can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for

Watch out now, take care
Beware of soft shoe shufflers
Dancing down the sidewalks
As each unconscious sufferer
Wanders aimlessly
Beware of Maya

Watch out now, take care
Beware of greedy leaders
They take you where you should not go
While Weeping Atlas Cedars
They just want to grow, grow and grow
Beware of darkness (beware of darkness)






WARNING

To salad dressing lovers of all stripes. Although it looks identical, it tastes different, it tastes less tangy. It has less zip to it.

Beware of Mayo.

Toking with Lawrence Welk / Velvet Underground

Velvet Underground




One Toke



Rumor had it that Myron was coughing because his accordian was actually a bong, and he had hit it too hard.

Are you optimistic? / But you knifed me in your dirty filthy basement

I have a class reunion coming up this summer. "School's Out" by Alice Cooper pretty much summed up my loving affection for my old high school days. But, instead of having that for a class song [it was never even considered] we chose a rather heavy song by Chicago called "Dialogue", which was mostly shredded by our concert choir. Why do the directors of school choirs, glee clubs or whatever, think they have to take a reasonably decent class song, torture it and VOILA . . . turn it into a GOD DAMN POLKA.

Several years ago I listened to a *Class Song* version of "Imagine". It was so hideous and depressing that I had all I could do to just to "imagine" NOT opening up a vein.

If you’re going to fiddle around with something, Fiddle around with anything by Shakespeare. I STILL have NO idea what that fucker was talking about. Although I do love the word “ZOUNDS.”



Pieces of of the song "Dialogue"

Are you optimistic . . .

Don't you ever see the starvation in the city where you live
All the needless hunger all the needless pain?

Thank you for the talk, you know you really eased my mind
I was troubled by the shapes of things to come

Part II

We can make it happen
We can change the world now
We can save the children
We can make it better
We can make it happen
We can save the children
We can make it happen

It's an alright song, a bit weighty, but alright. Hell . . . I remember some dim-bulb in my class wanted "Indiana Wants Me" for our class song. I can remember being a bit bewildered by that choice because . . . WE LIVED IN IOWA ! I guess I should be thankful that he didn't want the song, "Hooray for Hazel" to sum up our high school years?



Pieces of "School’s Out"

Well, we got no choice
All the girls and boys
Makin' all that noise
'Cause they found new toys

School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blown to pieces

Well, we got no class
And we got no principles
And we got no innocence
We can't even think of a word that rhymes

School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's out with fever
School's out completely

You have to remember . . . back then we only THOUGHT about school violence, never did it occur to anyone [well, at least not me] to actually blow up something that large. Although a friend and I did stuff firecrackers in the mouths of carp and blew them to smithereens, but only because we had just recently sold our souls to Satan, who in turn commanded us to blow shit up. In our case we blew up carp.
Plus, on page 16, section 7-9, article three in the Male Adolescent Handbook [MAH] gave us, adolescent males, explicit instructions about blowing ship up [BSU]. I had no idea that selling my soul to Satan and some, possibly most, of the ideas in the MAH would coalesce so nicely. Hmmmmm

To escape being called a "Flaming Nancy", it is the duty/sacred right of all teen-age males to mindlessly blow shit up [BSU]. [BingSU] will be defined as, anything [when looking back 25 years from the date of the you BSU that pertains to the actual annihilation of the object and/or thing being blown up. Attention is paid to the actual explosion, not the object being blown up. If you focus on the "thing" you blew up and it seems silly, and/or stoopid, and/or immature, and/or disgusting, you’re thinking WAY too much. Blowing up shit, not the shit you blew up is what's important. This is a very crucial distinction, because incorrect thinking about this can lead to self esteem issues later in life, assuming, of course, you were not already drowning in low self esteem when you blew that shit up . . . 25 years ago.

Looking back, it seems kind of ironic that we performed this adolescent confirmation/Satanic ritual at the site of, what used to be called, The Girl Scout Cabin [TGSC]. I assumed that the cabin had burned down years earlier, because all that remained was a rather phallic looking chimney.

I must also [enthusiastically?] confess to breaking out a window in back of the school, twice. I never got caught because I never told anyone I was going to do it, and after I did it I never told anyone that it was me that did it. Even back then I understood what it took to get away with doing shit like that. I finally fessed up some 20 years later. I'm not sure why . . . because it certainly wasn't a burning issue in anyone's mind. I guess I confessed because it gave me a sense of glorious accomplishment during an rather inglorious time in my life.

Our class motto was some gooey nonsense about not wanting to lead or follow, but only wanting to be a friend of the person we didn't want to lead or follow. Now THAT bilge-water was way over the top. There were no Goo-Free Zones [GFZ] set up, so we [the few] suffered in silence. I remember thinking at the time that it made far more sense if that fellow student, instead of walking ahead of me, instead of walking behind me, instead of walking beside me, or instead of juggling bowling pins on a uni-bicycle or whatever the hell it was he's was doing next to me, that it might be best if he parked his Bozo ass somewhere far far away from me, because if he was anything like me, he had nothing substantive to offer except more meaningless Bozo bullshit.



OK . . . now . . . since "We can make it happen" was a tad weighty, and "School's been blown to pieces" conjurred up images of BURNING/searing FLESH. Of course in today's world, if you wanted that for a class song, a SWAT team, like magic, would instantly drop out of the sky, appear on your front porch and frag your sorry ass. Or, if you were lucky and lived in a small town, they might only just try out their cool new Homeland Security Bullhorn *CNHSB* What would have been a good class song? Well . . . since there is no such thing as a good class song that would passs scrutiny, or a song free of the choir directors sticky tentacles, I decided on this toe-tapper.

I've printed the lyrics for those who wish to sing along. Just follow the bouncing ball [real or imagined].

And a one and a two . . .





Well, we all need someone we can lean on
And if you want it, you can lean on me
Yeah, we all need someone we can lean on
And if you want it, you can lean on me
She said, "My breasts, they will always be open
Baby, you can rest your weary head right on me
And there will always be a space in my parking lot
When you need a little coke and sympathy"
Yeah, we all need someone we can dream on
And if you want it, baby, well you can dream on me
Yeah, we all need someone we can cream on
And if you want to, well you can cream on me
I was dreaming of a steel guitar engagement
When you drunk my health in scented jasmine tea
But you knifed me in my dirty filthy basement
With that jaded, faded, junky nurse
Oh what pleasant company
We all need someone we can feed on
And if you want it, well you can feed on me
Take my arm, take my leg, oh baby don't you take my head
Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on
Yeah, and if you want it, baby, well you can bleed on me
Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on
Yeah, yeah, and if you want it, baby, why don'cha bleed on me
All over
Ahh, get it on rider, get it on rider , get it on rider
You can bleed all over me
Get it on rider , get it on rider, get it on rider
You can cum all over me.

If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't. But if I absolutely had to, I still wouldn't.

One last comment:

Just between you and me, Alice Cooper got one thing wrong. He said "and we got no innocence." Well . . . actually, I had quite a bit . . . and I miss it.

"Looks like it's me and you again tonite" / a doozy, a lulu, a humdinger

Over the weeks many of my fans, one at a time, have said "Musk, it would be quite the spiritual experience for me if you told me a parable." After looking up suitable synonyms for "parable" at thesaurus.com and arriving at words meaning the same thing or at least somewhat close to the same thing, that I'm mostly in tune with [see list], I'll gladly do one of the following synonyms for my legions of fans at a later date, AFTER I find a staff [12 would be great, but not required], another staff [big wooden stick], a ratty old bathrobe, after I quit clipping my toenails, and washing my hair, and brushing my teeth. Like John the Baptist and/or a smelly old ape, I will inspire the uninspired.*




Synonyms:

- allegory, apologue,
- bestiary, bunk*,
- crock,
- fabrication, fairy story, fairy tale, falsehood,
- fantasy, fib, fiction, figment,
- fish story,
- hogwash,
- invention,
- legend, lie,
- myth,
- old chestnut, old saw,
- parable,
- romance,
- tale, tall
- story,
- untruth,
- white lie, whopper,
- yarn
Antonyms: fact, history

http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/parable
Roget's New Millennium™ Thesaurus -

I leave you with this immoral song about self gratification:





* For reasons not apparent to me, God prefers enlightening odious little hoseheads with bad breath, bad teeth, bad hair, and long toenails

impedimenta / And when he passes, each boy she passes goes ahhh

Because of the stress of past few days I've come to realize that things are mostly just things that retard progress. The memory isn't the "thing", the memory is the feelings, the thoughts, the circumstances, the events surrounding the thing. If the thing is gone, the memories remain the same. As far as "thoughts" impeding happinesss . . . well . . . have fun.

"[Also, in my spare time,] I like to repeat silly cliches and imagine myself as sophisticated."


I leave you with this: