Blog Posts

Cattle call? pas d'tout, Moroccan roll

Kinda remind me of 60's bands before they learned performance, or late folk era - something very earnest.

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2019/aug/01/fatou-seidi-ghali-the-worl...

Petula Clark's Endless Career

Still remember one holiday to Texas and the beach in '65, where Downtown was everywhere.
And a summer 1967 at the pool with the somehow stirring "Don't Sleep in the Subway Darling"
And then Petula Clark's tribute on some Bob Hope special '72 singing Penny Lane/Eleanor Rigby feeling a bit dated

Tears in the Rain - RIP Rutger

Realized I'd seen Hauer in 2 movies long ago, Turkish Delight & Spetters from his Dutch movie days.
But his brilliant presence in Blade Runner remains unforgettable, including the mesmerizing final soliloquy he penned, knowing he needed something special, something more - the replicant with a soul, with vigor, with yearning.
Somewhat like his take-no-prisoners approach to life - he lived what he felt, pushed the edges - "now you've seen some of my world", he cautioned a shaken journalist he'd just taken on a gonzo 200+ km/h motorcycle ride, "now you can interview me".

Regrets: how Dagblog used to be

An intellectual sewing circle? Diversity of opinion with interesting respectful perspective? Something to re-aspire to?

 

http://dagblog.com/personal/questions-regrets-edition-part-ii-820

GoT Milk? Emilia Clarke means business

Not just a medieval character anymore, ready to do business - and take us with her on that journey.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZuzudfcsek

Cammock: why women aren't artists?

An alternative path to creativity - with much less room for acknowledgment sans self-primotion.

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2019/jun/18/helen-cammock-turne...

Summer of Love: Charles Colson revisited

by Barrett Brown no less.

Feel our loss of innocence - "I'd run over my Grandma for Christ" was once a thing - now it's "Christ should run over Grandma for Trump". I guess in the end it's not much difference, but it feels like a lifetime...

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/vdp44j/reading-born-again-in-jail-by-...

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Personal Information

Superpowers
Defies gravity Can spit really far Almost touch my toes Can cut a fly's legs off with a beer cap from 20 paces Know how to say useless stuff and prattle on in a dozen languages Don't know when to shut up
Favorite Quotes
To be for or against the Plague, it's much the same thing. Fiddledee, how a body shure do get around - just 2 weeks ago I was in Mississippi and now I'm all the way to Tennessee... Eat or Be Eaten Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Biography
Born in swaddling clothes (designer, of course) at the confluence of big waters, my first recorded words were "Dad, can I have the keys to the car?" Raised a Southern Pedestrian, my musical talents were recognized at an early age, leading to my being exiled to the shed out back with a stack of books that became my eddykayshun - advanced readin', writin' & ritmytick, creating a major quandary of "what will I do, oh what will I do?" (Gunslinger) As an old black man advised in song, "You Gotta Move", so move I did, traveling the byways sideways even a lot of driveways, picking up sticks and psychological tics, even movin' to Beverlee through a quaint misunderstanding of the seriousness of TV series, until finally I blew up so big the carry nation incarnation tarnation couldn't hold me no more, so I fixed my sights on yonder sitar, and like Queequeg and Paul Bowles and one of those abducted kids by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I ventured forth to the larger world, pickin' and grinnin', doin' me some reckonin' and naughts from naughts, occasionally rightin', building me some buildings and wiring and just trying to understand the babble comin' out of people's mouths and heads, I finally ended up in what Rummy quaintly calls "New Europe", which ain't so new from what I sees, but that pit in my stomach from lack-of-moving-sickness finally disappeared, and instead I sit behind a whopping big desk stacked with missives from all the chiefs with big whampum around the world telling me "what's going on". Which seems like a load of boolshit to me, but I guess that's what keeps me busy and entertained now, separatin' the weeds from the chapstick. So my name is Perry Keys, or Peracles to you, and since my mammy always said, "say please and thank you", I added the please, but I'm holdin' back on that thankee until I feel you've earned it. But do welcome, and I hope we's a gonna have a real good time. It all starts with, "I wuz born a poor young white chile livin' in the South..." and we cycle through again, like Nietzsche and his infernal regurgence. So enjoy, and let's spin a spell...

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