“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
.
And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again?
Archilochus
At least the man can actually SING. Good strong voice! Bravo for that. Style quintessentially twentieth-century FRENCH –– depressed, cynical, hopeless, exhausted, on the ragged edge of despair –– NIHILISTIC.
The dismal clothing, the dirty-looking locks of greasy, unkempt hair, the prominent use of eye makeup such as I have never seen on a man before all-but destroy his natural good looks. The tone of bitterness, anger, heartbreak and derision in the song contributes to an atmosphere of profound dejection.
Naturally, I disapprove of this celebration of SURRENDER to CYNICISM and ULTIMATE FAILURE of the HUMAN SPIRIT.
I see stuff like this as dangerous, because it too easily becomes self-fulfilling prophecy.
Since Gay Paree began to welcome Gays it is no longer Gay.
It's easier to bitch than stitch, It's easier to whine than mine. It's easier to make noise than to exhibit poise. It's easier to say "I'm fucked," than to construct.
To sit in the gutter counting your woes In shit-caked jeans with a runny nose Ranting in puddles of frozen piss Demonstrates only that something's amiss.
So, in the bleak winter Go shovel some snow ––
..... Cheer up the aged ...... And those who are caged . ...... Some joy you might find ...... If you read to the blind . ...... Don't play the whore, ...... Instead scrub the floor
Now get up and go!
In summer, each lazy laddie And each slothful lass Should get off their ass And go mow the grass.
Don't pout and make wishes Just go wash the dishes. If you need to find labor, Go help your neighbor.
Demanding is easy Producing is hard Protests are sleazy Thus saith The Bard.
_________ EPILOGUE _________
There's always something you can do. Don't succumb to feeling blue. Salvation lies through helping others Not thinking you deserve your druthers.
Never worry. Never fear. Just do your best to spread good cheer. Needed work is never done Effort's where we find our fun.
And if you're old, and stuck at home, You can always write a poem!
I gaze now in perpetual wonderment, grief And sorrow at the jagged, rotting stump Of the once-vital, arcing grandeur Of the dear and familiar tree That gave me shade and comfort, While all around me weeds, thorns Strange, stunted saplings, and bitter fruit Litter the parched stony soil Beneath a pitiless, gray wintery sky.
4 comments:
At least the man can actually SING. Good strong voice! Bravo for that. Style quintessentially twentieth-century FRENCH –– depressed, cynical, hopeless, exhausted, on the ragged edge of despair –– NIHILISTIC.
The dismal clothing, the dirty-looking locks of greasy, unkempt hair, the prominent use of eye makeup such as I have never seen on a man before all-but destroy his natural good looks. The tone of bitterness, anger, heartbreak and derision in the song contributes to an atmosphere of profound dejection.
Naturally, I disapprove of this celebration of SURRENDER to CYNICISM and ULTIMATE FAILURE of the HUMAN SPIRIT.
I see stuff like this as dangerous, because it too easily becomes self-fulfilling prophecy.
Since Gay Paree began to welcome Gays it is no longer Gay.
We've never gotten over the two world wars.
____________ FINDING FUN ____________
It's easier to bitch than stitch,
It's easier to whine than mine.
It's easier to make noise than to exhibit poise.
It's easier to say "I'm fucked," than to construct.
To sit in the gutter counting your woes
In shit-caked jeans with a runny nose
Ranting in puddles of frozen piss
Demonstrates only that something's amiss.
So, in the bleak winter
Go shovel some snow ––
..... Cheer up the aged
...... And those who are caged
. ...... Some joy you might find
...... If you read to the blind
. ...... Don't play the whore,
...... Instead scrub the floor
Now get up and go!
In summer, each lazy laddie
And each slothful lass
Should get off their ass
And go mow the grass.
Don't pout and make wishes
Just go wash the dishes.
If you need to find labor,
Go help your neighbor.
Demanding is easy
Producing is hard
Protests are sleazy
Thus saith The Bard.
_________ EPILOGUE _________
There's always something you can do.
Don't succumb to feeling blue.
Salvation lies through helping others
Not thinking you deserve your druthers.
Never worry. Never fear.
Just do your best to spread good cheer.
Needed work is never done
Effort's where we find our fun.
And if you're old, and stuck at home,
You can always write a poem!
~ FreeThinke
_______ A Backward Glance _______
I gaze now in perpetual wonderment, grief
And sorrow at the jagged, rotting stump
Of the once-vital, arcing grandeur
Of the dear and familiar tree
That gave me shade and comfort,
While all around me weeds, thorns
Strange, stunted saplings, and bitter fruit
Litter the parched stony soil
Beneath a pitiless, gray wintery sky.
~ FreeThinke
So often I feel as though I were praying to BAAL to light a fire on my personal altar. (Listen to Mendelssohn's ELIJAH, and you'll get the reference.}
Post a Comment