Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmen...to your thread enlightening soliloquy, db....
I riffed this together in response. It’s not yet complete, ...but, as somebody really fckn smart while playin’ a guitar once said, “It’s more about passion than execution, ya know what I mean....”
[Wretched me, Mick, you’re going to have to provide the music part to this one in your own guitar voicings, if you can hear any music init...; though it’s likely you can find music on-hand for the other, much more established, two well-rockin’ ditties.]:
Assume th' Position
~m2b
I think RW called it “the soap opera of state”,
I think others have called it by...other apt names,
...I think so much that goes to copy, perhaps even
Most all modern events on top (she smiles a made
Face & elevates the tension with mock interest)
Yeah, ...assume the position, baby!
The...media mainstream, ...the present tense...iz it a
Loosely fabricated form of jive in jest toward the
Frankless & most easy to spin derivatives of moot
Half-truths and then some, then some consequence?
Yeah, ...they’re own...independent [thought lessening]
Deterrents for the systematic dehydration of liquids
Flowing to our more enlightening areas of the brain.
That’s my position, baby. Assume the position!
Hello, I’m your neighbor and fellow distraction &
Marketing...tool; ...distraction & marketing fool....
Like my children, wearing logos on their mobile all-
Cotton billboards made by 13 year old pregnant women,
I’ve been granted this fine opportunity to live a
Whole & meaningful life as mere commodity,
...It’s my birthright, can’t you see, ...I’slap u silly U try to
Take that right away from me with thoughts of liberty!
Jus’ supposition baby, ...baby. Let’s assume the position!
It's the birthright of my family tree
The birthright of my...liberty:
...Nag children nag, ....
...Fight brothers fight, ....
Busy-body ladies busy-body, ....
...Yo sistas go ahead and fight, ....
Every brother knowz your right.... .... .... .....
...There’s just no time to step OUT of ranks,
No time to mention the microbes or th' tanks,
No time to question the INS & the outs, the
Pills & the cows, ...little bird farms verses the industrial trowels....
No, ...not those yanks...nor their bloody banks
...from sea to oily sea & back. ...Politically correct Attack!
When the mood is tuned by nimble fingered
Movers & shakers of the boob-tube-muse:
Fortresses for FUD & public interest ballot-filling-issues
~~yum ~~ the masses to Consume and dumb-down....
Resume the position, baby; ...we just synchronize our watches, plug.com into our headphones and...assume the position....
~~
[Note: I almost never really EVER see Dave Baerwald lyrics anywhere, so if I’ve fractured some kind of unwritten code by posting this lyric, please know I take no offense whatsoever to your deleting this post right from the get-go; ...it’s just so apropos....]
The got no shotgun, hydrahead octopus blues
~db
we got government by ignorance
and lots of lobbies in a line
and stick-twirling pianclerks
out punching in their time
dread damaged democrats
dangling for a dime
and paid for paperboys there
to keep the public blind
us we got nothing
no reason
no clue
just the got no shotgun hydrahead octopus blues
we got drug war arms pimps
with all their paydolls in a row
the cold war cowboys need another row to hoe
air force c-130s flying out of mexico
machine guns going one way
and cocaine coming home
us we got nothing
no reason
no clue
just the got no shotgun hydrahead octopus blues
the time is ripe for pure dissent
if you got money from the mob
and muscle from the government
the time is ripe for pure dissent
if you got money from the mob
and muscle from the government
you blow off one head
you get another dozen
the money gods of washington
got a lot of waiting cousins
bellies full of cutty sark
and faces ripe for mugging
the tyrant and the mob are
joined up like a witch s coven
and the whitecoats and the technocrats
are warming up their ovens
us we got nothing
no reason
no clue
just the got no shotgun hydrahead octopus blues
~~
[& just one more that I think assists in illustrating your posted notions, David, which I find to be evident in every way of our waking life in the 21st century; ...although you may see heady dissent from most every other which way...for saying such things on Dan’s board here today.]
The Powers That Be
~RW
They like a tough game
No rules
Some you win, some you lose
Competition's good for you
They're dying to be free
They're the powers that be
They like a bomb proof cadillac
Air conditioned, gold taps,
Back seat gun rack, platinum hub caps
They pick horses for courses
They're the market forces
Nice car Jack
They like order, make-up, lime light power
Game shows, rodeos, star wars, TV
They're the powers that be
If you see them come,
You better run - run
You better run on home
Sisters of mercy better join your brothers
Put a stop to the soap opera right now
They say the toothless get ruthless
You better run on home
You better run - run
You better run on home
The powers that be
They like treats, tricks, carrots and sticks
They like fear and loathing, they like sheep's clothing
And blacked-out vans
Blacked-out vans, contingency plans
They like death or glory, they love a good story
They love a good story
Sisters of mercy better join with your brothers
Put a stop to the soap opera [of] state
They say the toothless get ruthless
Run home before its too late
You better run - run
You better run on home
Billy: Goodnight, Jim.
Jim: Goodnight, Billy.
Uncle David's Great Dane: Woof, woof, woof!
The canyon - daytime. Billy plays with Great Uncle David's Great Dane.
Paraquat Kelly: Bull heads, three red snapper, one pink snapper
and your Pacific coastal trench hosemonster fish.
Cynthia Fox: Ohhh! At Sky David's juke joint of joy reports,
forty under the console giggle stick ling cod,
twenty-three purple perches four sledgehammerhead sharks,
and what a surprise, eightyfour crabs, and no red snappers.
Paraquat Kelly: Hey, and that'll do for the triumphant return
of the fish report with a beat.
Jim: We think of it as mainstreet, but to the rest of the country
it's Sunset Strip. You're listening to KAOS in Los Angeles.
[Uncle David, now an old man, is haunted by having worked on the Manhattan project during World War II, designing the Atom Bomb, and seeks to atone. He also is a radio ham; he often talks to other hams about the Black Hills of his youth, the Male Voice Choir, about home. He is saddened by the use of telecommunication to trivialize important issues, the soap opera of state. However, Live Aid has decynicised him to an extent. Billy listens to David and hears the truth the old man speaks.
Billy experiments with his cordless 'phone, he learns to make calls. He accesses computers and speech synthesizers, he learns to speak. Billy makes contact with Jim a DJ at Radio KAOS, a renegade rock station fighting a lone rear guard action against format radio. Billy and Jim become radio friends, Reagan and Thatcher bomb Lybia. Billy perceives this as an act of political "entertainment" fireworks to focus attention away from problems at "home".]
~~Roger Waters
