where hypotheses come to die (madman101) wrote,
where hypotheses come to die

the talking rocks - UPDATED!

I hear the opening music in, "The Politics of Truth," and I want to play Depeche Mode all day. I really got into Depeche Mode back during the Cafe Saga, RIP. They claim one of my all-time fav songs ever, "Enjoy the Silence". The Cure, (which I got into slightly earlier), also has one of these, "Close To Me". I also want to spend a day making an all-time-fav Beatles CD. Beatles comprise my largest collection, but I still am lacking a lot of their mx. Before I started this post, I was thinking that maybe the title, "Revolver," was (also) meant to suggest revolution, via a revolver. Then I thought that maybe this album might have been a prophesy for our times, what with, "Taxman," and the philosophical, "Within You and Without You." Revolver is amazing. ... I was listening to Robyn Hitchcock's, "Element of Light," an emulation of Lennon, and one of it's main inspirations was Revolver. Harrison really matured in that album. Well, speaking of truly classic rock, I believe tat PINK FLOYD is totally making a come back. Not the band - half of which is prolly dead - but the music. For one thing, recent bands like Flaming Lips have been emulating them. But, more important, after the crash of 2008, (plus BP and Fukushima and Mitt Romney), it really seems like PINK FLOYD has become relevant to a LOT of people. And I think that's GREAT. Guess what, I was thinking of responding to a CL ad seeking a singer for a Pink Floyd tribute band. I can sound like anyone, even Norah Jones, but I've been told I sound like David Bowie, which isn't THAT far removed from David Gilmore and all. But there appeared two reasons that I never went for it, (besides the fact that half the time I am in a catacombic state): I would have needed means to travel to Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Madison, Mankato, and other cities beginning in "M", AND, it was only a tribute to THE WALL. If I sang for a WALL tribute band, I would totally devolve into a piece of bad sushi. Too oppressively depressing, when taken liberally. But, whenever something important ever happened in my life, such as when there was a major, positive turn, as when smoking pot, somehow the album, "Welcome To The Machine," was always chiming away in the background, for some reason. This was especially true at times when I was following my social consciousness and joining with friends in protest marches, and then lingering over night, with the sound of bongo drums and tiny harmonicas and giggling going on everywhere in the intoxicating, mushroom-like haze. So - THAT album, I think, is Sooooooooooooo applicable to THESE DAYS of angst and OCCUPY. You MUST agree, so go listen to it. Another relevant album is ANIMALS. And the other. Somehow, they seem more relevant now than they possibly ever were.

Well, I am feeling better than I have in a while. My forced therapy yesterday, including extra caffeine, was successful in preventing a big relapse. Now I am thinking of finally walking to the store. But I kinda like just luxuriating here like a non-meat humanoid. Who knows. Life is Beautifulisimo. The clock ticks down... Was awakened from the nap that sealed this deal by a lawn mower. It was that cute blonde girl - although I don't really know what her face looks like yet. Although THIS side of my house mostly faces the highway, there is a huge apartment-house a bit back. Last night, I heard a strange sound - I don't know what it was. Maybe it came from that house. Or maybe it came from the OTHER side, where the black girl I wrote of yesterday lives - the one who shouted at her boyf, "I DON'T WANT YOU ANYMORE!" It was the sound of a dying rabbit, squeaking truck axles, or maybe a woman in either ecstasy or pain. No idea. So, I was wondering if anything had prompted blonde girl to pick TODAY to mow. Was it THAT SOUND? Was it HER making that sound? Since she had mowed the LAST time I was very visible over near her house, being yelled at by crazy pedestrians, maybe she was mowing this time because she had again seen ME, when I was over talking to that other girl. Maybe. But it is more likely that she saw the big white new guy walking around yesterday. This little corner is suddenly multicultural!) I am not discounting the biggest possibility: the grass was getting too long. I'm sorry, I like figuring out chaos and/or subtleties. So - this girl has a cute bod. But it's one of those bods that I would find attractive only if it was small. If it was big, I wouldn't really find it attractive. She's really fit, and that's a good thing. The only time I would date a big girl is if she really knocked me around a lot like the slut that I am.

Here's some stuff... SEE BELOW FOR UPDATE / HITCHCOCK (to a star...)...


Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode

Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Can't you understand
Oh my little girl
All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm
Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable
All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm
Enjoy the silence

Close to Me - the Cure

I've waited hours for this,
I've made myself so sick.
I wish I'd stayed asleep today,
I never thought this day would end.
I never thought tonight could ever be
This close to me

Just try to see in the dark,
Just try to make it work,
To feel the fear before you're here.
I make the shapes come much too close,
I pull my eyes out,
Hold my breath,
And wait until I shake

But if I had your faith,
Then I could make it safe and clean.
If only I was sure,
That my head on the door was a dream.

I've waited hours for this,
I've made myself so sick,
I wish I'd stayed asleep today.
I never thought this day would end,
I never thought tonight could ever beâ?¦
This close to me

But if I had your face,
I could make it safe and clean.
If only I was sure,
That my head on the door,
Was a dream.

Within You Without You - Beatles (Harrison) -(tomorrow never knows)

We were talking, about the space between us all
And the people, who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion
Never glimpse of truth, then it's far too late, when they pass away

We were talking, about the love we could all share, when we find it
To try our best to hold it there, with our love
With our love, we could save the world, if they only knew

Try to realize it's all within yourself no-one else can make you change
And to see you're really only very small,
And life flows on within and without you

We were talking, about the love that's gone so cold and the people,
Who gain the world and lose their soul
Then you may find, peace of mind, is waiting there
And the time will come when you see we're all one,

Welcome to the Machine - Pink Floyd

Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
Where have you been?
It's alright we know where you've been.
You've been in the pipeline, filling in time,
Provided with toys and 'Scouting for Boys'.
You brought a guitar to punish your ma,
And you didn't like school, and you
Know you're nobody's fool,
So welcome to the machine.

Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
What did you dream?
It's alright we told you what to dream.
You dreamed of a big star,
He played a mean guitar,
He always ate in the Steak Bar.
He loved to drive in his Jaguar.
So welcome to the Machine.

Pigs - Pink Floyd

Big man, pig man, ha ha charade you are.
You well heeled big wheel, ha ha charade you are.
And when your hand is on your heart,
you're nearly a good laugh, almost a joker,
with your head down in the pig bin,
saying, " Keep on digging", pig stain on your fat chin.
What do you hope to find, when you're down in the pig mine?
You're nearly a laugh, you're nearly a laugh,
but you're really a cry.
Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are.
You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are.
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass.
You're nearly a good laugh, almost worth a quick grin.
You like the feel of steel, you're hot stuff with a hat pin,
and good fun with a hand gun.
You're nearly a laugh, you're nearly a laugh,
but you're really a cry.

Hey you, Whitehouse, ha ha charade you are.
You house proud town mouse, ha ha charade you are.
You're trying to keep our feelings off the street,
you're nearly a real treat, all tight lips and cold feet,
and do you feel abused?

You gotta stem the evil tide,
and keep it all on the inside.
Mary, you're nearly a treat, Mary, you're nearly a treat,
but you're really a cry.

Dogs - Pink Floyd

You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need.
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street,
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed.
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight,
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.

And after a while, you can work on points for style.
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake,
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile.
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to,
So that when they turn their backs on you,
You'll get the chance to put the knife in.

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder.
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older.
And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south,
Hide your head in the sand,
Just another sad old man,
All alone and dying of cancer.

And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown.
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone.
And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone,
Dragged down by the stone.

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused.
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used.
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise.
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend.
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everything's done under the sun,
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.

Who was born in a house full of pain.
Who was trained not to spit in the fan.
Who was told what to do by the man.
Who was broken by trained personnel.

Who was fitted with collar and chain.
Who was given a pat on the back
Who was breaking away from the pack.
Who was only a stranger at home.

Who was ground down in the end.
Who was found dead on the phone.
Who was dragged down by the stone.

Run Like Hell - Pink Floyd

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run.
You better make your face up in
Your favorite disguise.
With your button down lips and your
Roller blind eyes.
With your empty smile
And your hungry heart.
Feel the bile rising from your guilty past.
With your nerves in tatters
When the conch shell shatters
And the hammers batter
Down your door.
You'd better run.

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run,
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run.
You better run all day
And run all night.
Keep your dirty feelings
Deep inside.
And if you're taking your girlfriend
Out tonight
You'd better park the car
Well out of sight.
'Cause if they catch you in the back seat
Trying to pick her locks,
They're gonna send you back to mother
In a cardboard box.
You better run.

"Hey, open up!"
"Hammer, hammer"

Goodbye Blue Sky - Pink Floyd

Did you see the frightened ones?
Did you hear the falling bombs?
Did you ever wonder why we
Had to run for shelter when the
Promise of a brave, new world
Unfurled beneath the clear blue sky?
Did you see the frightened ones?
Did you hear the falling bombs?
The flames are all long gone, but the pain lingers on.
Goodbye, blue sky
Goodbye, blue sky.
Goodbye. Goodbye.

In the Flesh (partial) - Pink Floyd

Are there any queers in the theater tonight?
Get them up against the wall!
There's one in the spotlight, he don't look right to me,
Get him up against the wall!
That one looks Jewish!
And that one's a coon!
Who let all of this riff-raff into the room?
There's one smoking a joint,
And another with spots!
If I had my way,
I'd have all of you shot!

Waiting For The Worms (partial) - Pink Floyd

Waiting to cut out the deadwood.
Waiting to clean up the city.
Waiting to follow the worms.
Waiting to put on a black shirt.
Waiting to weed out the weaklings.
Waiting to smash in their windows
And kick in their doors.
Waiting for the final solution
To strengthen the strain.
Waiting to follow the worms.
Waiting to turn on the showers
And fire the ovens.
Waiting for the queers and the coons
and the reds and the Jews.
Waiting to follow the worms.
Would you like to see Britannia
Rule again, my friend?
All you have to do is follow the worms.
Would you like to send our colored cousins
Home again, my friend?
All you need to do is follow the worms.

worm, turning... away...
http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/2873/ - (read thread - warning: ghastly)

Oh - another thing about the amazing Robyn Hitchcock (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robyn_Hitchcock_and_the_Egyptians): He got his start in a punk band called, "The Soft Boys." They were highly influenced by Pink Floyd, (plus surrealistic Beatles, punk, and etc.). There objective was to create something called, "Psychodelic Punk." I don't know a lot about early punk. I do know that there were NOT a lot of punk bands going for a psychodelic sound or lyrics. Maybe that came later with more-New-Wavish bands like the Smiths, Soft Cell, Adam and the Ants, and of course XTC. Maybe Pixies/Muses' surrealism was influenced by Soft Boys. Dunno. I am however extremely intrigued by it. Successful Soft Boys star, Robyn Hitchcok, is absolutely amazing. He is also a painter and writer, from an artistic family. Very Kafkaesque at times. Well - one more thing about the great Robyn Hitchcock, (influenced by Pink Floyd): Well, this... I always thought taht the Decemberists sound like they were influenced by him - but the deal is that they were influenced by R.E.M. And I thought maybe Hitchcock might also have been influenced by R.E.M. - But I had got it all wrong, because he came BEFORE R.E.M. - and Michael Stipes was apparently a HUGE Robyn Hitchcock fan! Ain't that the coolest, baby?! But wait, there's more!... A few years ago, I came up with this theory that R.E.M. could have been strongly influenced by The Smiths, (Johnny Marr, Morrissey). I still believe this. But I think what was bigger was that both bands were influenced by THE BYRDS. THE BYRDS were also a central influence to Hitchcock and the Soft Boys! Who were THE BYRDS? Possibly the first U.S. PSYCHEDELIC (folk/blues) rock band, other than Beatles (Norwegian Wood), who introduced Indian Sitar sounds to their music, in the pivotal song, "Eight Miles High." So, we circle around back to psychedelic influence, but it was greatly the guitar sound/playing rather than the lyrics. (Surrealistic lyrics come easilly, anyway - just ask your pillow). Another big "psychedelic" (blues) guitar influence in rock was, of course, Jimmy Hendricks.

Even though it is a PERFECT day to walk to the supermarket, me and my bod are wanting just to stay home and have a safe and mildly creative day today. To save my bod from nutritional heat death, I am going to makes some GF spaghetti with pea and cheese sauce and added canned veggies. Happily, I found an extra box of green tea yesterday. Two things on-hold until I shop: Can't make my pea/carrot soup. Can't make dog food for dog, which includes carrot, (and so he is rapidly consuming the dry dog food now). TMI - but it's nice to be able to write without getting extremely exhausted, I'm just DOING IT. Tickle me titties.

Madonna of the Wasps - Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians

Is this love?
Is this love?
Is this love?

Lost Madonna of the Wasps
I wonder where we crossed
I wonder why she lost me

Lost Madonna of the Wasps
She's dying in the frost
I wonder what she cost me

Is this love?

Gone Madonna of the swans
She waves a magic wand
And then she settles on me

Wise Madonna of the flies
I look into her eyes
And then she recognize me

Is this love?
Is this love?

Lost Madonna of the Wasps
I wonder where we crossed
I wonder where she lost me

Lost Madonna of the Wasps
She's lying in the frost
I wonder what she cost me

Is this love?
Is this love?

This is what Hitchcock said when he was asked, "What does this song mean?"...

Well, "Madonna" is about an artist with a long, straggly beard who's kept in a white room in a castle somewhere in France. It's one of those castles where ... there are 31 doors but there are 32 windows, and if you hang a handkerchief out of each window, there's still one room that doesn't have a handkerchief hanging out of it. In other words, there's a doorless room.

And trapped inside this this doorless room is a very emaciated artist, and every night ... he sits there painting. He's got a kind of hotel suite, so he's not lying there in his own shit or anything like that. But he doesn't get around much.

Anyway, he's trapped up there, and every night this woman comes to him. As her head and shoulders come through the window, he thinks, "Great," but her abdomen is that of a wasp, and it's a kind of two-foot-long beautiful black-and-yellow abdomen with rings around it. And she comes in and she sort of pins him to the bed, and she sticks her tongue in his mouth, and she arcs up her abdomen and he goes, "Unnh, Unnh, Unnh."

She just curls this thing around and stabs him in the navel, and he gets a lethal dose of wasp poisoning. And he just passes out, and the next morning he wakes up and he's OK again. Like Prometheus, he's had his kidneys taken out. Anyway, he doesn't know why he's in there. He doesn't know what his relationship with the Madonna is, particularly. I mean, she's very attractive in one way, you know, but repellant in another.

And then one day, he wakes up, and he's not in the room anymore. He's just walking along in the fields in France, all these sort of flat fields. And it's early morning in November and there's a frost, and he sees this sort of shape lying on the ground, like a crashed plane.

And it's the Madonna. She's dying like wasps do in the autumn, and she stretches her hand out to him and says, "Will you forgive me?" And then that's where it ends.

There's the option: Is she actually going to whip up and sting him again, finally, or is he going to forgive her, or what? So we leave it there... Well, it's very long, so that why I had to make the song completely different, but that's the concept behind it.

The WALL: http://utopia.knoware.nl/users/ptr/pfloyd/review/wall_floyd.html
Tags: -posted to indie_lifestyle, food - spaghetti, good morning worm your honor, music - b - beatles, music - byrds, music - classic rock, music - cure, music - decemberists, music - depeche mode, music - flaming lips, music - for our times, music - hitchcock robyn, music - lyrics, music - morrissey / smiths, music - pink floyd, music - pixies / muses, music - psychedelic punk, music - psychedelic rock, music - r.e.m., music - soft boys, music - surrealistic lyrics, music - throwing muses
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