Tag Archives: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Happy Days Are Here Again!!

The Nick Cave website announced this morning that on July 23rd, a “live stream” concert with Nick Cave, performing alone at the piano in Alexandra Palace in London, will stream on the DICE app!!

It will stream in 3 different global time zones so check that link above there for details. I don’t know what the global exchange rates are, but for the US ticket, it was only $20. (And seating is only limited by the number of people who can sit on your phone at once!!)



As luck would, of course, have it, July 23rd is my dad’s 90th birthday and I will be driving home from Cincinnati that evening, but oh well.  It’s always best to have nothing whatsoever to do for months, and then cram all upcoming events into the same day. (My life seems to excel at that, with or without a pandemic.)

But I am, of course, very excited, and will endeavor to not speed more than my customary 95 mph the entire 100 miles that it is between my dad’s place and my home.


I got some more good-ish news yesterday. Sandra called to tell me that she’s having a phone conference today with the theater company in Toronto  that will be producing our play  (this one is mostly her play, about her life; but I’m a contributing writer on it and we’ve been collaborating on it for something like 7 years now. Literally. It was supposed to be produced in Toronto this Fall, however, as we all know too well by now, 2020 no longer exists in the abstract, only in the immediate upfront here & now, day after day after day, hour after unpredictable hour …)

Anyway!! I will be super excited to hear what they chat about. I’m guessing our production date will be reset for 2021, but no clue yet exactly when. (And rest assured, gang, that there are still a TON of rewrites needed for that play!! So I can’t wait to be indescribably super busy again. It will finally feel like real life around here.)

Today is the day I’m supposed to chat with my accountant in NYC re: Abstract Absurdity Productions, but he never actually confirmed a time, so I’m not certain if it’s happening today or not. We’ll only know for sure  if the phone rings…

Meanwhile. Yesterday did not pan out as planned. Kevin (the Director of Tell My Bones) had to cancel our dinner plans for the Granville Inn, and instead, we’ll be going there on Sunday evening. I was really disappointed because it has been 3 and 1/2 months since I socialized in any way and I was so excited for the chance to not only go out with someone but also to go to Granville, but that’s how life seems to go these days. We’ll do it on Sunday, instead.

11 Granville Ohio Photos - Free & Royalty-Free Stock Photos from ...
Granville Ohio in the summer

After I got off the phone with him, I went outside and took a walk — just to sort of focus on something else. It was just a gorgeous day. I took a bunch of photos during the walk and posted them to my Instagram account, but here are a couple them.

Across the street from my house, looking east.


The first one  is of the train tracks in front of my house, but looking East this time — in the direction of Coshocton County, which is just a really beautiful county, gang. (You can’t see it from here, it’s too far away. I’m just saying that it is really beautiful there.)

Looking west, from the main road in and out of town

And the second one is of the main street through the village. If you look way in the background, that hill is where there are always a bunch of cows grazing. By the way, by the time you’re at that hillside, you are already over Wakatamika Creek and well out of the village.

I know the street looks deserted, but I actually waited for a bunch of cars to drive by first.

Plus, it was 90 degrees Fahrenheit yesterday and not a lot of folks were outside at midday.

Okay, well, gang. I guess that’s it for today!! I hope you have a terrific Thursday planned for yourself, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting!!

I’ll leave you with the song “Idiot Prayer” — the title of Nick Cave’s upcoming streaming event. It’s a song I really like but I won’t say why I like it so much. It’s from the album The Boatman’s Call — Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, 1997. (This is a really beautiful album, gang, if you aren’t familiar with it.  Some real heartbreaking gems on this album, plus the title is really easy to spell.)

So, listen and enjoy! I love you guys. See ya!

“Idiot Prayer”

They’re taking me down, my friend
And as they usher me off to my end
Will I bid you adieu?
Or will I be seeing you soon?
If what they say around here is true
Then we’ll meet again
Me and you

My time is at hand, my dove
They’re gonna pass me to that house above
Is Heaven just for victims, dear?
Where only those in pain go?
Well it takes two to tango
We will meet again, my love
I know

If you’re in Heaven then you’ll forgive me, dear
Because that’s what they do up there
If you’re in Hell, then what can I say
You probably deserved in anyway
I guess I’m gonna find out any day
For we’ll meet again
And there’ll be Hell to pay

Your face comes to me from the depths, dear
Your silent mouth mouths, “Yes”, dear
Dark red and big with blood
They’re gonna shut me down, my love
They’re gonna launch me into the stars
Well, all things come to pass
Glory hallelujah

This prayer is for you, my love
Sent on the wings of a dove
An idiot prayer of empty words
Love, dear, is strictly for the birds
We each get what we deserve
My little snow white dove
Rest assured

© 1997 Nick Cave

Gotta Get Tootling Along!!

I’m heading out early today, gang. Have to drive to one far away town (30 miles) to spend some quality, post-lockdown time with those guys at the Honda dealership! My very grown-up car informed me last Monday (the last time I was actually in my car) that it was time for an oil change.

Then I’m going to drive to the other far away town and get the groceries.

It’s a stunning day here today, gang, so it’ll be nice to do all that excessive speeding on the highway with the music blasting! (And just a quick note to those of you who are new to the blog — there are usually only about 3 cars on the highway out here in the Hinterlands (no exaggeration!), and in the Honda, it’s almost impossible not to speed.) (Plus, you can drive these Hondas for 10K miles now before you need an oil change. I find this astounding.)


Well, I did finish that new chapter for In the Shadow of Narcissa yesterday, but I still want to tweak it. So that’s what I’ll likely do when I get back from town.

On that note, though, I gotta scoot! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with a song that I’ve posted here many times, but I just love it. And something I saw at about 4am this morning on Instagram that took my breath away, has had me singing this song all morning!! “Breathless” by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, from their double-album with two impossible-to-spell titles from 2004, Abattoir Blues / The Lyre of Orpheus.

All righty!! Have a wonder-filled Monday, wherever you are in the world, gang! I love you guys. See ya!

Let’s Just Let Life Happen, Shall We ??

What a lovely Sunday here in Crazeysburg, gang! And even though yesterday was mostly about thunderstorms and torrential rain all day long — that, too, was wild and sort of beautiful.

And the skies cleared up unexpectedly by 5PM. The storms were supposed to go on straight through until today. But the skies cleared and then last evening was sunny again and really lovely.

I streamed two episodes of Professor T. yesterday (the Belgian TV crime series on PBS) — I know, I said I wasn’t going to binge watch it, just sticking to one episode per evening.  But the rainy afternoon sort of called out for an episode of Professor T! So I watched an episode in the afternoon, during a thunderstorm, which was atmospheric and wonderful. Then another episode in the evening, when it was just so fucking  beautiful outside the screen door in my kitchen.

I also got a lot of work done on a new chapter for In the Shadow of Narcissa yesterday. I might finish it today. (I like to think I will, since each chapter is well under 1000 words.) Then I’ll get back to Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse.

Things with Valerie in Brooklyn are still exhausting and very emotional for her right now, so any book projects requiring cover art are still on hold.

Oh, and that reminds me. In July, I will once more be participating in the Smashwords Summer Sale. All my eBooks there will be $1.00 and one of the Muse Revisited books will be free. I don’t know which one will be free, I simply agreed to participate and they take care of the rest. (And I think you have to buy at least one eBook this time to get the free one.)

And just a head’s up — once the new cover art is made for The Muse Revisited collection, those manuscripts will be re-edited. The editing in those books right now is not that great. I look forward to editing them myself and completely re-packaging them, not to mention having them available in trade paper for the first time, ever. (The stories themselves have all been in trade paper, many times over.  However, the 3-part collection as it is now has never been in traditional print.)

And Twilight of the Immortal will once again be in trade paper, as well. That one did come out with a traditional press several years ago, but has only been available as an eBook for quite a while now.

So, I’m excited!! Because, God knows, I need more stuff to do here at my desk!!!!!

All righty. On that note, I’m gonna get back to work on this new chapter for In the Shadow of Narcissa. I hope you have a really great Sunday, wherever you are in the world!

I’m leaving you with a song I was reminded of on Instagram this morning. “Cassiel’s Song” — by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. It’s from the soundtrack of a Wim Wenders film from 1993, Far Away, So Close! (A sequel to Wings of Desire.) (The song is also on the Bad Seeds’ album  B-Sides & Rarities. 2005)

And oddly enough, just yesterday afternoon, I had taken Judy Stone’s awesome book from 1997, Eye on the World: Conversations with International Filmmakers, down from the bookshelf and had re-read her Wim Wenders interview from  June 1988.

Eye on the World: Conversations with International Filmmakers by ...

It was a really interesting interview because he talked a lot about when he was young and sort of struggling to not only be a filmmaker but to come to terms with his nationality. (You can still buy the book, even though any filmmakers who became successful after the mid-1990s won’t be in it. And a number of the very well known international filmmakers who are in it have passed on now. But if you love international cinema, it is a real treasure. (And huge!! Almost a thousand pages, with 200 interviews with filmmakers from 40 countries.)

Okay!!  I’m off!! Thanks for visiting, gang! I love you guys. See ya!

We’ve come to bring you home
Haven’t we, Cassiel?
To cast aside your loss and all your sadness
And shuffle off that mortal coil and mortal madness
For we’re here to pick you up and bring you home
Aren’t we, Cassiel?
It’s a place where you did not belong
Were time itself was mad and far too strong
Where life leapt up laughing and hit you head on
And hurt you, didn’t it hurt you, Cassiel?

While time outran you and trouble flew toward you
And you were there to greet it
Weren’t you, foolish Cassiel?
But here we are, we’ve come to call you home
And here you’ll stay never more to stray
Where you can kick off your boots of clay
Can’t you, Cassiel?

For death and you did recklessly collide
And time ran out of you
And you ran out of time
Didn’t you, Cassiel?
And all the clocks, in all the world
May this once just skip a beat in memory of you
Then again those damn clocks, they probably won’t
Will they, Cassiel?
One moment you are there and then strangely you are gone
But on behalf of all of us here we are glad to have you home
Aren’t we, dear Cassiel?

©  1993 Nick Cave

Yep! Me & My Prized Male A.I. Sex Robot Are off to the Store!!

Yes! I asked the kind folks over at RealBotix if they could tweek Henry just a little bit and make him look like an older, extremely white guy, straight out of the 1950s — and they said, “Okay!”

He cost a little bit more, but he’s so worth it. He always smiles. And he’s not disgruntled in any way. (Plus, he knows how to drive our convertible, pictured above. Which means that I can spend the whole time worrying about my hair and fucking around with the radio.)

Yes. Life is a dream!!

And, yes — that’s also my way of saying that today, I’m going to drive into town and get groceries. This is not the same town where I would have bought my printer ink, btw, but it’s in the same county — see yesterday’s post if you so choose! Even though I’ve already had the virus and like to think I have those prized antibodies and at least some sort of seasonal immunity to getting it again, I still don’t like to go scurrying hither & yon over in the next county, where, currently, they still have 152 active cases of the virus.

Plus, no one out here in rural America really wears masks anymore. The elderly people do, and then everyone else just consumes massive doses of Vitamin D. 

(And I’m only making a little joke about Vitamin D, gang — it worked for me. That fucking virus held on for 2 months, and then I took 50,000 IUs of Vitamin D3 in the space of 8 days and got over it. So I think that the UK has it right. I’m just saying. The supplements are cheap and you have to really take an indescribable amount before you get dangerous side effects, so go for it this Fall. Especially people of color, since skin pigmentation effects how your skin absorbs Vitamin D strictly from the sun. And, of course, older people and the elderly of all races, because a certain deficiency in Vitamin D seems to come with age. (Moi, included there; I’m still on 3000 IUs daily.) (By the way, my 60th birthday is four weeks from today. This leaves you plenty of time to pick out something nice for my birthday!!) (To give to me, I mean; not to keep for yourself.)

All righty!! New topic.

I wish I could go into more detail about this on the blog, but all I can really say right now is that things with Abstract Absurdity Productions are going indescribably great, gang; just “beyond my wildest dreams” type of great.

Even though I was texted the breakdown of the overall budget for Lita måste gå! (AKA Lita’s Got to Go!) yesterday, after Peitor met with the line producer out in LA; and even though I could probably buy 30 top-of-line male AI sex robots with every singe imaginable bell & whistle for what it’s going to cost to make one 8-minute film (10-minutes, when you include the credit roll and the end piece); the news was still extremely good. I am so excited, gang, and I will keep you posted when I am able to. (And that A-list star that I am absolutely determined to get, gets closer every minute!!)

(And now that I’m actually thinking about it: 30 top-of-the-line “Henry’s” means about 6 male AI sexbots in each room of my house, not counting putting any of them in the bathroom, which would likely be necessary. Man, that would be so creepy.  To have them sitting around the dining room table, and the kitchen table, 3 or 4 of them sitting on my sofa and then one in the side chair, 2 or 3 in each bed, with a few more just standing around, watching the bed. Maybe one or two of them taking a bath or using the “convenience”! Golly. That would probably be the moment that I died from natural causes and every weird tabloid press across the globe would have photos of my “Sex-Crazed Creepy House in Small-Town America”!!)

However, to get back to reality…

Peitor and I still have a ton of paperwork and presentation-type stuff to get in place. And then there’s also that pesky web site I need to get back to, the one that refuses to design and build itself. So there’s still a lot to do. But — man. Talk about sun on the horizon; here it fucking comes — as soon as we get this “new normal” sorted out.

My Sweet Lord — the song that earned George Harrison a lawsuit ...
George Harrison in Heaven right now, likely singing “Hear Comes the Sun.”

Okay, well. I suppose I will close this and make that drive into town. It’s going to rain all day, with thunderstorms throughout. Best to just get out there and get it done.

I hope you have a great Monday underway, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with this really beautiful song that I don’t think I’ve posted here before, but I might have. It is allegedly a Grinderman song (one of Nick Cave’s bands), but I don’t know for sure, because as far as I know, it hasn’t actually been released on any record. But it is on YouTube — several videos, in fact. And all of them say it’s by Grinderman.  (Which is sort of a quasi-alter-ego of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds.)

Anyway, the song is “Star Charmer.”  I have lyrics, but no copyright date.  But enjoy, gang. And have a terrific day!! I love you guys! See ya.

“Star Charmer”

Like a far flung star
There you are
Littlest than before
As you slip from my fingertips
Left me here on the burning shore

Searched and searched
Ah, you were worth so much
More than you ever thought you were
Everything you believe I still carry with me
Broken down on the burning shore

And it must have felt much easier
To have the stars along your side
And it must have felt much easier
To have the world along your side

A Daddy’s girl
I see you curl
And sleeping on the floor
Maybe you dream a little dream of me
Down here on the burning shore

Yeah, there you are
Attached to a star
Beyond the point of no return
Maybe you ought to spare a thought
For those of us down here who never learn

And it must have felt much easier
To have the world along your side
And it must have felt much easier
To have the stars along your side

© – Nick Cave / Warren Ellis / Martyn Casey / Jim Sclavunos

Smooth Sailing Here in Crazeysburg, Gang!!

Happy, summer, gang!! We are getting there — just 4 more days!!

Well, another glorious day is upon us here, and I want to take full advantage of that feeling, because the next several days are supposed to include lots of thunderstorms.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that thunderstorms around here means that, throughout the day and night, I go around closing 21 windows, then opening 21 windows, then closing 21 windows…. ad infinitum.

Until the storms clear.

Sometimes, I get so fed up with all the openings & closings, that I become very nautical and try to determine from which direction the wind is actually blowing, and then only close windows on that side of the house. Or sometimes, if it seems that no real wind is blowing at all, and the rain is sort of falling straight down, I close no windows at all and just sort of let everything get a little bit wet.

Okay, well!!

I am making the weirdest “progress” on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. I was once again at it all day yesterday, and only managed to take about 4 paragraphs that I’d already written the day before and re-write them down to about 8 sentences. And then, after I’d closed down the laptop for the evening, I was re-reading what I’d re-written and realized that one of those sentences needed to be completely re-worded.

Multiply that by 3 weeks, or some such nonsense as that, and you get an idea of how long it’s taking me to write this particular “Letter.” And the weirdest part of it is that I know exactly what I want to write about! But the words are coming out so darn slowly. It is ridiculous.

Peitor is supposed to call today. I’m not sure if we’re doing Abstract Absurdity Productions work, or if we’ll just be chatting. We haven’t talked in a while, so either way will be good.

He’s primarily a music producer/composer, and he’s been in the studio a lot now, catching up on mixes because he couldn’t get in the studio while L.A. was in lockdown. The last few days, he’s been working primarily on mixing one particular song he wrote — with a very, very Beatles “Sgt. Pepper” type sound — and he sends me updates on the various mixes every day. And the one he sent over during the night blew my little socks off this morning! It was so fucking good!!

I wish I could post the music file for you here on the blog, gang, but he would probably kill me!! But it is just so good.

I just went on a google search to see if I could find info on the singer he’s using right now — a guy I actually follow on Instagram, but he usually goes informally by his initials and now I can’t remember his actual name so I can’t even find him on Instagram. Anyway, I found this great photo of Peitor instead!! From 2012  — (he’s about 55 years old here. He doesn’t ever seem to age at all). (He just turned 63 this past Tuesday.)

This Time (2012) - Covering Media

New topic…

I am indeed studying French again — on the Mondly app. Since I gave up studying Italian back in September, that’s where the Mondyl app left me — in September’s lessons — regardless of the fact that I am now studying a different language.  Since I actually know French, I am going through a month’s worth of lessons & quizzes every 2 days. I’m trying to get caught up to the actual current lesson (meaning June’s lessons). So I’m going at quite a clip.

It is definitely more conversational than any French I’ve ever studied. So, even though I tried just leaping in at June, I found a bunch of phrasing that I wasn’t really familiar with, so that’s why I’m trying to get all the lessons in order.

I really enjoy studying French, obviously. I have just always loved the French language (& culture) (& films, too,  god knows!!). But, now, as I’m studying — and of course, being reminded of all the various language courses in French that I’ve taken over the last 52 years (including but not limited to attending the Alliance Française in NYC):

Education Archives - Page 2 of 3 - Cerami & Associates

— I am of course very aware that, nowadays, people just speak English into their phones and then out it immediately comes from their phones in the language of whoever it is that they’re trying to talk to.

No incentive (or need) anymore to really learn a language at all, so I’m not 100% sure why I am still bothering. But I just love the darn language! So on I go!!

Plus, I’m learning nouns that, oddly enough, I’ve never learned before. Like the French words for “shark,” or “monkey,” or “housefly.” Sort of common words, right?  But I have always studied more of a “business” type, formal French. And certain ordinary words, in all this time, have never come up!

My French colleagues in Paris used to tell me that I actually wrote French better than most of the actual French people they knew. Which means that, if you’re just a regular French person trying to converse casually with me, I don’t have a clue what you’re saying!! I honestly don’t.  (If I was in a publisher’s office, having a meeting, though, I could understand everything because the French I know is so formal.)

Anyway, this is why I say that, after 52 years of studying it, I still don’t speak French. Maybe this time will be different!! We shall see.

And if I still can’t speak French after 53 years, I’ll just speak English into my phone and let my phone converse with you.

Okay, so!! On that chipper note…

I’m gonna get started here today. I hope you have a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world and in whatever language you speak!! I’m leaving you with my breakfast-listening music from today, even though I’ve posted it here before — “Opium Tea” from B-Sides & Rarities (2005) by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. I love the mood of this, and the pacing and the melody. So listen (again) and enjoy!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys! See ya!!

“Opium Tea”

Here I sleep the morning through
Till the wail of the call to prayer awakes me
And there ain’t nothing at all to do but rise and follow
The day wherever it takes me

I stand at the window and I look at the sea
And I am what I am, and what will be will be
I stand at the window and I look at the sea
And I make me a pot of opium tea

Down at the port I watch the boats come in
Watch the boats come in can do something to you
And the kids gather around with an outstretched hand
And I toss them a diram or two

Well, I wonder if my children are thinking of me
‘Cause I am what I am, and what will be will be
I wonder if my kids are thinking of me
And I smile and I sip my opium tea

At night the sea lashes the rust red ramparts
And the shapes of hooded men who pass me
And the moan of the wind laughs and laughs and laughs
The strange luck that fate has cast me

Well, the cats on the rampart sing merrily
That he is what he is and what will be will be
Yeah, the cats on the rampart sing merrily
And I sit and I drink of my opium tea

I’m a prisoner here, I can never go home
There is nothing here to win or lose
There are no choices needed to be made at all
Not even the choice of having to choose

Well, I’m a prisoner here, yes, but I’m also free
‘Cause I am what I am and what will be will be
I’m a prisoner here, yeah, but I’m also free
And I smile and I sip my opium tea

© 1996 Nick Cave, Conway Savage

Simplicity is So Fucking Cool!!

Tuesday in Crazeysburg!!

The house is clean. The laundry is well underway. The fridge is full of food. The weather is unbelievably perfect. I at least look like I’ve lost some more weight today but I’m not gonna get on the scale and find out for sure, I’m just going to assume that I did!!

And the cell phones seem to be up & running again!! (T-Mobile claims it was an “IP traffic-related” issue, but I’m sure we all know it was really another white anarchist domestic terrorist attack…)

But, regardless — it’s over! Today is officially perfect!


I am going to try to make some significant progress on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. It has been such slow-going around here. But I’m feeling like today could be the day where a bunch more words are going to finally come out and land on the page!! We shall see!

One of the things I really like about this collection is that each “Letter” comes out so differently. And I honestly never know what to expect from them until they do come out. And, obviously, since these are memoirs, they are intensely personal, which can also be very illuminating (to me, I mean).  And then each of the finished “products” (each letter) sets me apart from myself and I become an observer of my life for a few minutes.

It is a very cool process, even though it’s also almost stupidly personal at the same time.

And another thing I love is knowing that I’m self-publishing everything from now on. I don’t have to worry about whether publishers or booksellers are going to be uncomfortable with what I’m writing about.

You know, back in 1999, when Neptune & Surf came out, the largest bookstore chain in America, Barnes & Noble, refused to carry the book — the same book that the Guardian newspaper in England called one of their Top Ten picks for summer reading that year. If a person went into a Barnes & Noble here in the States and asked for it to be ordered for them personally, the store would do it, but they refused to carry my book in their stores because of the novella, “Gianni’s Girl”. It offended them beyond belief. Even though the publisher had made sure (for once) to put a beautiful, non-sex-related cover on the book — it still didn’t help.

(And Trump actually had nothing to do with that!! Can you imagine?? Life used to suck a lot, even back then!!)

Well, a lot has changed since 1999, still, it is so mentally liberating to just write now and not worry about how I’m going to pitch the thing to an editor somewhere.

The plays and the movie scripts are different. They’re sort of eternally evolving processes that are always collaborative, in a sense. A lot of input along the way from others  in those projects . But my books are still just me, by myself, sitting at my  (indescribably tiny) desk, writing.

All righty. Well, I need to get going here. Finish the laundry and then call my dad — with the phones out for so many hours yesterday, I was not able to call and check in with him. So I need to do that.

I hope you are having a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are  in the world, and that maybe your weather is as perfect there as it is here today. Not too hot, but totally sunny and just so peaceful. (And I am still totally obsessing about getting some flower boxes in that barn window, gang, so I need to figure out what the heck I can do about that!)  Meanwhile…

I leave you with a song I haven’t listened to in awhile, but it came up on Instagram this morning, so I leave you with that today — “Babe, I Got You Bad”,  from Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ B-Sides & Rarities (2005). (I think I’ve posted it here before, but here it is again!!)

Okay, enjoy. And thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys! See ya!


“Babe, I Got You Bad”

Babe I got you bad
Dreaming blood-wet dreams
only madmen have
Baby I got you bad
I wish to God I never had
And it makes me feel so sad,
O, Baby I got you bad
Yeah, Babe I got you bad

I long for your kiss,
for the turn of your mouth
Your body is a long thing
Heading South
And I don’t know what I’m talking about
All of my words have gone mad
Ah, baby I got you bad

Seasons have gone wrong
And I lay me down in a bed of snow
Darling, since you’ve been gone
well my hands, they don’t know where to go
And all of my teeth are bared,
I got you so much I’m scared
Ah, baby I got you bad

With the sweep of my hand
I undid all the plans
that explode at the moment I kissed you
on your small hot mouth
and your caramel limbs
that are hymns to the glory that is you.
Look at me darlin’ it’s sad sad sad
Look at me darlin’ it’s sad sad sad
Baby I got you bad

Smoke billowing from the bridges
and the rivers we swim in are boiling
My hands are reaching for you everywhere
but you’re not there, or you’re recoiling
and a weary moon dangles from a cloud
Oh honey, I know it’s not allowed
To say I got you bad.

I got you bad…
I got you bad…
I got you bad..

© 1997 Nick Cave

For God’s Sake, Just Say ‘Yes’ To Drugs!

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m having the hardest time trying to live through the morning over here.

I’m so done with the news. I guess we should just encourage everybody to go ahead and exercise their 2nd Amendment right to own firearms and protect themselves; this way we no longer have to worry about hair-trigger cops being called in to deal with “situations” anymore, and we can just all shoot one another.

Don’t have to worry anymore about race, creed, gender, religion, etc., etc., and cops.

That horrible American problem — solved. (We’re absolutely stellar at killing one another, though, so no problems there.)

And now there are all these weirdos out there (women, obviously) who want international legal regulations in place regarding AI sex robots, because the robots are getting too life-like and it’s disturbing the highly educated human women, and they’re worried that too many people (men) will get alienated from real live people (meaning, you know, people who shoot each other all over the place in this country…) As if it’s anyone’s business how alienated people want to become in the privacy of their own homes.

You know, I, for one, recall all sorts of intensely intense scenarios that me and my little girlfriends imposed on Barbie — with and without her fabulous clothes on — yet they never created laws about how we could treat her. It was never stark-raving-naked Barbie and all the things we subjected her to that upset  & alienated me; it was those real-live fucking alienated men who raped me who actually upset me.

For godsakes, let them rape their sex dolls instead. Why the fuck do we need to make international laws about it? Nice as it is of those women to worry so much about random, nameless men, getting too much alone-time at home with their helpless dolls.


I loved how the various news outlets jumped so furiously on Fox News for allegedly portraying the Seattle autonomists (autonomous-ists?) as carrying guns… Later in the day, the Seattle autonomous-ists said, “well, yes, we do carry firearms — to protect ourselves from white supremacists…”

Christ, you know? I’m just done. No more fucking news without first imbibing heavily in drugs…(I’d say “booze,” but you know, booze puts on weight!! Much like this COVID 19 pandemic quarantine shit!)

So. I’m just done.

Unfortunately, I can’t take drugs and write worth a darn so I’m stuck being intensely 100% sober in every way. I’ve decided, instead, to put all sorts of barricades up between me and “the news.”

But on that auspicious note… I am making very good progress on Letter #8 — oddly enough, titled: “The Choice to Kill” — for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. It’s going really well but it is also slow-going, only because I’m trying to capture so many complex things in a very few, tightly written pages.  But I’m still happy with it.

(And, yes, I have completely developed a bona fide habit of having an unlit, filter-less cigarette in my mouth now whenever I’m sitting at my desk. I don’t think I’m ever gonna light it, but I have gone through that whole pack of Chesterfields that I bought several months ago, and now I’m halfway through a pack of Pall Malls.) (Because I’ve noticed that the filters snap off more easily from Pall Malls…) (Life in Crazeysburg these days…)

Oh! And I do indeed have a new barn door!! Yay!! However, that idea I had the other day, about putting some sort of flower box in the barn window? I’m having a lot of trouble finding planter-hardware that will fit the 8-inch width of the window ledge, without it being some sort of DIY, which I am not at all handy with. To say the least.

The widest planter- hardware I can find only fits a 6-inch window ledge.  And I must say, though, that I sound quite interesting, saying, “No — I’ve got to have 8-inches!”

(More drugs, please.) (But it is super-cool that at my rapidly advancing age, people are still so ready to accept that a thing like size would still be at the forefront of my needs…)

All right. Jesus Christ. Here’s hoping that this day helps me reclaim some sort of sanity.

You know, not only is it Arbor Day here in America – thankfully, a holiday that honors trees, and that no race, religion, creed, or gender felt it necessary to appropriate from any other one — it is also the “anniversary” of my first suicide attempt.  For some unknown reason, that date has always stayed with me — for 45 years now. So I’m going to try to look for and then tally all the reasons why I’m so darn glad that I lived long enough to see this glorious fucking day unfold before me, in all its splendor.

On that note, I’m going to get going around here, gang. Enjoy your Sunday. Please. And thanks for visiting. I leave you with more Bee Gees breakfast-listening music from this morning!! Another spot-on song from their Spirits Having Flown album (1979): “Love You Inside and Out” (lyrics in video). But I’m also leaving you once again with Nick Cave’s version of “Cosmic Dancer” because I popped onto Bad Seed TeeVee, as I am wont to do, and it was playing again. And this song is one of the few songs around my house right now that makes me feel like — somehow, someway — I’m gonna survive this fucking fucked-up thing I call my American life. Enjoy, gang. I love you so much, guys. See ya.

Can You Say “New Barn Door”??!!

I can!! The Amish guys will be here soon!!

Another dream coming true here in Crazeysburg, gang!

Wow, last evening was just the most amazing summer evening in a small town. Okay, I realize that, technically, it’s not going to be summer for about another week. But still. It’s June. It glorious weather. It’s summer.

The weather was so perfect last evening, that everyone was out and about — either riding bikes or riding motorcycles, or sitting  out on their lawn chairs around the fire pit, and/or playing music, etc.  Up until about 9:30 at night, when the sun finally disappeared from the sky.

On evenings like that, a lot of the neighbors are usually smoking weed, too, and the smell of it wafts into all my open windows from all directions, but now that lockdown for most public places ended this past Wednesday, I guess the weed-smokers were out at the lake…

Local Crazeysburg pot-smokers at the lake…

I know that you’re probably thinking, from the way I get so upset here on my blog about the state of America in general, that I must be in the thick of it — but none of those things are actually going on in Muskingum, County.  Like most of rural America, the virus put in a negligible appearance here; social distancing is practiced, but masks are not worn out here, etc. And the riots/protests didn’t happen out here, either — and, practicalist that I am, I’m guessing it’s because way too many people in rural America, including Muskingum County, own plenty of guns and aren’t at all squeamish about using them.

But that’s just a wild thought off the top of my cynical head…

It’s funny how people in rural areas tend to know the Constitution, though, especially that part where it was determined that the 2nd Amendment gave individuals the right to bear arms to protect themselves (and their property)…

Well, even so.  And even while the tiny village I live in is remote, I do still get upset about the shape of the rest of the country because I’m not able to separate myself from the rest of the country, or even the world, really, for that matter.

But that said — last night was just like some sort of dream. It really was. I felt just so grateful that some higher power found this house for me in the middle of beautiful Nowhere, Ohio. (Even if it means I have to breakdown and buy a male AI sex robot in order to have someone to enjoy it all with!!)


Well, my dad has indeed decided to move! At age 90. Not to Florida, thankfully, but at least to a less restrictive senior retirement type place. He’s currently in Independent Living, on a nursing home compound, which will remain under lockdown probably until January, and he’s losing his mind. He’s in very good health — except for that recent stress-related thing a few days ago, which was also related to the lockdown. He’s only at a nursing home place because my stepmom needed to be there, but she has since passed away. So he’s moving to where things are no longer in lockdown. And now he has to seriously down-size his possessions. In 2 months…

This means that all those art work thingies of his that I have absolutely no room for but really, really want, are soon going to be mine. So that will be interesting, gang. I am so serious when I say that I have absolutely no room for any of it!! But I’m not going to let it get given away.

So, yesterday, I got great work done on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. So I am really happy about that. I’ll probably be working on that exclusively today.

And then, during the night, William, over at a1000mistakes blog in Australia — who is always making lists related to music, bands, books about bands, live concerts — posted his Top 100 favorite Nick Cave songs.

I was astounded by this! Not just the fact that he took the time to do that, but that he was able to categorize all those great songs into some sort of preferred order.

I cannot even imagine being able to do that. I’m only able to pick, like, my top five if I’m forced to do it. To think about it, I mean. And even then it gets hard to put even 5 great songs into some sort of preferential order.  So, to me, his list was just fascinating.

Plus, growing up in Australia, he has had ready access to lots more Boys Next Door records and Birthday Party records, too. I have very little of that stuff and have had to sort of poke around on YouTube to even find it. So that was cool, too! You can check it out at this link if you’re so inclined.

Okay. I guess I’m going to get started around here!  When you next hear from me, I should have a brand new barn door!! Finally!! I hope your Saturday is just as magical, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting, gang.

I’ve been in a Bee Gees mood around here lately — the love songs this time, and not the heartbreaking songs, for which they are so renown! So I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning: “Too Much Heaven.” It was off their Spirits Having Flown album from 1979, which has a couple other mega-platinum hits on it, as well.  So, listen and rejoice.  And enjoy your beautiful day. I love you guys. See ya!

“Too Much Heaven”

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

Oh you and me girl
Got a lot of love in store
And it flows through you
And it flows through me
And I love you so much more
Than my life.

I can see beyond forever
Everything we are will never die
Loving’s such a beautiful thing
Oh you make my world… a summer day
Are you just a dream to fade away

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

You and me girl got a highway to the sky
We can turn away from the night and day
And the tears we had to cry
You’re my life…

I can see a new tomorrow
Everything we are will never die
Loving’s such a beautiful thing
When you are to me, the light above
Made for all to see our precious love

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

Love is such a beautiful thing
You make my world a summer day
Are you just a dream to fade away

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as wide as a river and harder to cross

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

© 1979 Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb, Maurice Gibb

Life Not Only Goes On, It Gets Better!!

Well, if you saw last evening’s post, you’ll know by now that we had intense thunderstorms around here, and even a tornado near by.  But it blew out all the high heat and humidity that was keeping me from being able to breathe all day yesterday.

PLUS!! My new dust buster arrived yesterday afternoon!! I mentioned it in a previous post this week. I got one of those high-powered ones, to hopefully make it easier to deal with all the cat hair around here (and cat litter that flies everywhere, too).

And it works like a charm!! I love this fucking thing. It keeps its battery power for a long time, and it truly is high-powered. It was kind of astounding to see how much filth it was picking up from deep in the carpeting.

If you’re sort of a cleaning-freak, like I am, you can no doubt relate to how cool I found that high-powered suction thing, and it made me just want to clean and clean and clean!!

So I did!!!

And it doesn’t disturb the cats nearly as much as the vacuum cleaner does, so I hope I won’t have to bring that out as often anymore. We’ll see!

So the combination of an awesome breeze blowing throughout the house at dawn this morning, and coming downstairs to a thoroughly clean house and cool temperatures… there’s just NO WAY this isn’t going to be a great day.


Well, the other day, I bought an online course about the theology of Martin Luther and the complicated launch of the Protestant Reformation, beginning in 1517 A.D.  I’ve been listening to it a little bit every night before I  go to sleep.

I studied the Reformation in Divinity School, of course. And I’ve also done a ton of studying on my own about the various sects that also sprang from that era. Plus, my ancestors were not only alive in Germany at that time, but they were living in that region of Germany that was directly affected by Martin Luther’s tumultuous change of the Church.  And they were definitely practicing Protestants, there are surviving records to prove it, so I find it really interesting to think about them and what it was like to live through those times of enormous change. (It wasn’t “just” the Church that changed because of Martin Luther; it was the scope of the Western mind.)

Anyway. The course is fascinating. And no disrespect intended, but, man, Martin Luther was really kind of nuts!!

I’m (sort of) just kidding, gang. But before he settled on his theology of the Gospel, his teachings went to some seriously dark and masochistic and  impossible places.

When I was 13, there was a cinematic version of the play, Luther (written by John Osborne), that I saw in the movie theater, so I was at least aware that Martin Luther was extreme.  But now that I’m way, way, WAY older, and a minister and all that, I understand now just how extreme that man was. Wow.

I find that kind of stuff so interesting, gang. I really do. Even though it’s safe to say that I  don’t adhere to any of those Lutheran ideas or beliefs,  I’m still fascinated by the religious arc of the Western mind over the centuries. I just never get tired of learning about all of that.

So, as it so often turns out, the medicine they had prescribed my dad when he got sick last week, only ended up making him sicker. So the doctor told him to stop taking the medicine yesterday, and he’s at the doctor’s office right now, this morning. So, here’s hoping he’s going to finally be back to normal here soon.

He’s the kind of person who will only listen to a doctor, you know? We both knew the medicine itself was making him really sick, and I really wanted to tell him to stop taking it, but I knew he would just ignore me because I’m not a doctor! So I was relieved when he finally called the doctor and the doctor told him to stop taking it!

I find it so amazing, honestly, how some people treat doctors as if they’re actual gods and as if medicine, simply because it’s prescribed by a doctor, holds some special inalienable power. Meaning, that their brains are just so locked into that kind of reverent thinking, they can’t even bring themselves to question it.

I’m just so not like that and never have been. I guess because I have to question and ponder everything. (Which, of course, can get really annoying to the people around me.) But if I’m going to be forced to consider another human being to be “God,” I’d rather just give in and call Nick Cave “God,” as so many Europeans are wont to do!!

(I am, yet again, sort of just kidding…)

Another cool thing that happened — now that I currently have no main barn door on my barn, that storm last evening blew through the barn and blew open one of the side doors of the barn, and also the shuttered window on the other side of it. There’s no glass in the window — just wooden, hand-made, 110-year-old shutters!

I can see that side of the barn from my kitchen window. And this morning, when I went out there to the barn to close the shutters, I saw that there are some old eye-hook type things at either side of the shutters, so I can keep them open if I want to.

And do you know what that means??!!

Yes!! It means I can get yet another window box, plant flowers in it, put it in that barn window all summer long and see the flowers from my kitchen window!!

I’m so excited. (I’ll also be able to see Kevin’s vintage 1965 VW camper van through the open barn window all summer long, not quite as exciting, but still…)

The one draw back is that it’s a long trek from the kitchen, where I’d have to get the water every day to water the flowers.  I’m not sure how excited I’ll be about doing that, every single day, all summer long. I already have to make 7 trips a day, in and out of the kitchen, to water all the flowers on both of my porches…

Anyway. We’ll see. I just felt really excited when I realized it today.

I read on Deadline Hollywood yesterday that Johnny Depp’s documentary of Shane MacGowan, Crock of Gold, has been picked up by Magnolia Pictures in North America. Which means we’ll probably get to actually see it!!

I love Shane MacGowan. And I loved The Pogues, back when he was the driving force of the band. And it’s one of those things where I am continually astounded to discover that most Americans (especially if you’re not Irish-American) have never heard of Shane MaGowan or The Pogues. In NYC, especially back in the 1980s — back then, at least, NYC was an intensely Irish town — The Pogues were really popular.

I had all of their albums and EPs, up until Shane MaGowan essentially drank his way out of the band. At this point, though, after decades of having to jettison more albums with every move I’ve had to make, I’ve only kept Rum, Sodomy, & the Lash and If I Should Fall From Grace With God. But they are two incredible albums, gang. I’m so excited to see that documentary.

Okay. I’m going to get started here now. I hope that Thursday is just as beautiful where you are today, gang!! Thanks for visiting. I’ll leave you once again with two listening options today:

The song that, when Nick Cave sang it solo on his In Conversations tour,  caused people all over the world to call Nick Cave “God.” The song is, in fact, titled “God is in the House,” from the truly timeless and amazing Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds album, No More Shall We Part (2001).

And then one of my favorite Shane MacGowan songs, which couldn’t be more different than the Nick Cave song: “Sally MacLennane,” from The Pogues album, Rum, Sodomy, & the Lash (1985). Compare and contrast!! Listen and enjoy, gang!! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“God Is In The House”

We’ve laid the cables and the wires
We’ve split the wood and stoked
the fires
We’ve lit our town so there is no
Place for crime to hide
Our little church is painted white
And in the safety of the night
We all go quiet as a mouse
For the word is out
God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
No cause for worry now
God is in the house

Moral sneaks in the White House
Computer geeks in the school house
Drug freaks in the crack house
We don’t have that stuff here
We have a tiny little Force
But we need them of course
For the kittens in the trees
And at night we are on our knees
As quiet as a mouse
For God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
And no one’s left in doubt
God is in the house

Homos roaming the streets in packs
Queer bashers with tyre-jacks
Lesbian counter-attacks
That stuff is for the big cities
Our town is very pretty
We have a pretty little square
We have a woman for a mayor
Our policy is firm but fair
Now that God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
Any day now He’ll come out
God is in the house

Well-meaning little therapists
Goose-stepping twelve-stepping Tea-totalitarianists
The tipsy, the reeling and the drop down pissed
We got no time for that stuff here
Zero crime and no fear
We’ve bred all our kittens white
So you can see them in the night
And at night we’re on our knees
As quiet as a mouse
Since the word got out
From the North down to the South
For no-one’s left in doubt
There’s no fear about
If we all hold hands and very quietly shout
God is in the house
God is in the house
Oh I wish He would come out
God is in the house

© – 2001 Nick Cave

“Sally MacLennane”

Well Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born
He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn
He soothed the souls of psychos and the men who had the horn
And they all looked very happy in the morning

Now Jimmy didn’t like his place in this world of ours
Where the elephant man broke strong men’s necks
When he’d had too many Powers
So sad to see the grieving of the people that he’s leaving
And he took the road for God knows in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

The years passed by the times had changed I grew to be a man
I learned to love the virtues of sweet Sally MacLennane
I took the jeers and drank the beers and crawled back home at dawn
And ended up a barman in the morning

I played the pump and took the hump and watered whiskey down
I talked of whores and horses to the men who drank the brown
I heard them say that Jimmy’s making money far away
And some people left for heaven without warning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

When Jimmy came back home he was surprised that they were gone
He asked me all the details of the train that they went on
Some people they are scared to croak but Jimmy drank until he choked
And he took the road for heaven in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

©  – 1985 Shane MacGowan

You KNOW I’m In A Mood When You See *THIS* Guy

I’ve been sitting here at my desk  in front of the blog template for almost an hour already, unable to clear my mind and get to someplace fun & happy!

I hate using this blog to preach about shit, but I also hate just ignoring the blog for an entire day because I can’t think of something fun & happy.

So many of my readers here are not from the US. You come here to the blog every day from South America, Central America, Western Europe, Eastern Europe, Africa, Asia and countries of the Far East, the Middle East, the Near East, India, Canada, and Russia.

And of course it makes me wonder what you can possibly think about this insane country of ours, especially now.

Oh — and by the way, in case you hadn’t already heard, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds announced yesterday that their North American tour, which was set to begin this fall, has been cancelled.

And, NO, they didn’t say it was because the US is so insane right now that they wouldn’t be caught dead here…. it was something to do with a pandemic.


The news here this morning is that Columbus — the nearest city to Crazeysburg, 50 miles from here — announced that those few nights of rioting is going to cost the city and its small businesses over $3 million. (This doesn’t count what the pandemic has cost them, either. Small businesses have absolutely lost their shirts from the virus.) (If you don’t understand that phrase — it means that you have lost everything, including the shirt off your back.)

(I don’t know — doesn’t that look like at least 3 million more votes in Trump’s lap? Hmmm….)

That remark wasn’t really my point. My point is that this is a democracy, and people are always going to protest about something, and sometimes the protests will be violent, and there are always going to be factions in this country virulently opposed to other factions in this country. And the fact that we are allowed to have our opposing ideas, and even our violent opinions, and our individual understanding of what truth is even when it’s completely at odds with what everybody else’s truth is, is what makes a democracy so sacred to human rights.

However, the thing that confounds me about the US now is this whole up-swelling of younger people who have the misunderstanding that a democracy is a “cancel-out” culture. That if  someone disagrees with you, that person needs to be cancelled out (silenced) in some way.

(My problem with my play, Tell My Bones, comes under that banner, but I want to add that the director called me twice yesterday, assuring me that he was not abandoning the play. That we were going to have to wait it out, for when NYC gets back to some sort of “normal.”)

The sad situation in our country is that most public schools no longer teach History or Government, or even World History. Private schools are where children get the prime education nowadays — whether they are Catholic schools or strictly academic schools.

Public schools are no longer funded well enough to focus on anything but the basics. There’s no Art, no Music — without parents paying separately for it, and then it usually happens after school. A lot of the schools no longer even have libraries. And even the school sports teams are funded by parents paying for the kids to be on the team.

Yes — isn’t that insane? You no longer have to try out and see if you’re good enough to make the team. If your parents can afford to pay for you to be on it, you’re on the team.

What’s even worse, is that sports like swim teams, that hand out trophies for 1st, 2nd, 3rd place — well, now anyone who participates gets a trophy. Just for showing up. Because no one wants any of the kids to have hurt feelings.

This has been going on for a couple of decades already.

Even at the college level — a friend of mine is a college professor and he’s not allowed to use red ink to grade papers because the color red is too threatening to students.

This is not a joke. This is real. Red ink is too threatening.

An entire culture of young people coming out of our public schools who are not adept at handling challenges or conflicts or the opposing opinions of others.

And they aren’t taught how a democracy is run, either. They don’t even study the Constitution of the United States or the Bill of Rights  anymore (in public schools). They aren’t taught History, for godsakes. Or that tolerance, however difficult it can be, or impossible it can feel sometimes; it’s the foundation of the civil liberties of all Americans.

(And I guarantee you that a lot of politicians are banking on you not having a clue what the fuck is really going on with all that anymore. Even if you think you’re on the “right” side. That same side is banking on you not knowing how to even really think.)

I just saw a comment just this morning where a well-known Hollywood actor was making a movie about a revolution in another country and he said that it made him think about how the Europeans came to America and what happened then to the Native Americans who were already here.

Honestly — he had to act in a movie in Hollywood before that thought occurred to him??!! WTF??!!

When you study History and World History and Government you learn about things that are really important.

About how history has an uncanny way of repeating itself — all over the world. And to expect that violence is met with violence — so, if you want to choose violence, which is your right, you need to expect violence to come right back at you. Whether you’ve murdered someone, or whether you’re fighting for your inalienable right to live.

It has astounded me, the outcry in the national news that the recent riots were met with riot police, or even the militia. Or that what was intended to be a peaceful protest became violent anyway — on either side. Or that people with an organized agenda of some kind will barricade themselves behind innocent, well-meaning  people and allow them to become victims of violence that they didn’t start.

Where is the “news” in that? This has gone on throughout all time.

And so many people bringing up now what happened at Kent State in 1970, when the Ohio National Guard was called in and unarmed students were killed.

Yeah, that happened. I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that in school. It’s part of our history — people fighting for change and for their rights and losing their lives because of it.

I can’t forget it because I lived here back then. Ohio was very violent back then, and the country itself was very violent. Non-military groups, of all colors, were arming themselves and were setting off bombs everywhere and blowing up buildings. Shooting all sorts of people — on all sides.  Aside from flat-out assassinations, well-known public people, from politicians to pornographers, wound up in wheelchairs for life because of snipers’ bullets. And riots were common. And blow back was common.

It’s awful. I’m a pacifist and always have been. I cannot handle violence. I expect something more rational from all people. And I’m usually really disappointed. But violence is a part of an equation. We’re all allowed to make any choice we want to make, but we also have to at least be aware that no action exists in a vacuum. There’s going to be a reaction — it’s part of the laws of Physics.

That stuff that they teach you in school, right?

Anyway. It all sucks, of course. But what I have a hard time dealing with is this lack of education in a huge section of America, and this lack of critical thinking and this idea that Liberals — who were once the embodiment of tolerance — are now at the forefront of the culture of cancelling-out; of silencing people; of  the idea that someone is not entitled to their views if they oppose yours.

And this lack of History. My god. Honestly. If I see one more person putting forth the image of Bob Dylan and quoting his song “The Times They Are A-Changing”, I’m going to scream.

The times are changing. It’s a no-brainer, gang.  But you’d be much better equipped quoting other songs he wrote, that weren’t so “feel-good.”  He wrote a ton of them. I leave you with a couple of those today.

All right thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.


“Only A Pawn In Their Game”

A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers’ blood
A finger fired the trigger to his name
A handle hid out in the dark
A hand set the spark
Two eyes took the aim
Behind a man’s brain
But he can’t be blamed
He’s only a pawn in their game

A South politician preaches to the poor white man
“You got more than blacks, don’t complain
You’re better than them, you been born with white skin” they explain
And the Negro’s name
Is used it is plain
For the politician’s gain
As he rises to fame
And the poor white remains
On the caboose of the train
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid
And the marshals and cops get the same
But the poor white man’s used in the hands of them all like a tool
He’s taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
‘Bout the shape that he’s in
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks
And the hoof beats pound in his brain
And he’s taught how to walk in a pack
Shoot in the back
With his fist in a clinch
To hang and to lynch
To hide ‘neath the hood
To kill with no pain
Like a dog on a chain
He ain’t got no name
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

Today, Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught
They lowered him down as a king
But when the shadowy sun sets on the one
That fired the gun
He’ll see by his grave
On the stone that remains
Carved next to his name
His epitaph plain
Only a pawn in their game

© 1964 Bob Dylan

“With God On Our Side”

Oh, my name—it ain’t nothin’
My age—it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I’s taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that the land that I live in
Has God on its side

Oh, the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh, the country was young
With God on its side

The Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I’s made to memorize
With guns in their hands
And God on their side

The First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never did get
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don’t count the dead
When God’s on your side

The Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And then we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side

I’ve learned to hate the Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It’s them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side

But now we got weapons
Of chemical dust
If fire them we’re forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God’s on your side

Through many dark hour
I’ve been thinkin’ about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can’t think for you
You’ll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side

So now as I’m leavin’
I’m weary as Hell
The confusion I’m feelin’
Ain’t no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And they fall to the floor
That if God’s on our side
He’ll stop the next war

© 1963 Bob Dylan