Blog Posts

Lou Brock, the base stealer

In a sport many consider dull, Lou kept it lively, stealing even when way ahead. On a team of superstars, he and Bob Gibson stood out. Also a symbol of back when St Louis was great, when Midwest companies and sports teams could compete with the coasts, playing in that new stadium with the optimistic view of the Arch - before Ferguson and urban rot set in. I can still remember his baseball card - perhaps 3-4 memorable out of a huge box. Also a reminder how many decades go by after a sports star means something, how filling the time productively post-career is essential.

Electric Warlock: Glam icon Marc Bolan remembered

Was highly stirring and fruit for imagination to a young lad in the South - tuning in on King Biscuit Flower Hour late every Sunday night beamed from London? Choice. Oddly these Glam dudes were firing back with "All the Way to Memphis" - you talking to me? Get it on, bang a gong... I'll be that Jeepster too.

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2020/sep/04/marc-bolan-perfect-pop-sta...

Trump/Barr/WH/DoJ Corruption IX

Belarus continues

Protesters unveil new technique

HR Puffer Stuffer relocated

George Conway Believes thread

Pages

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...

History

Blog
View recent blog entries
Member for
8 years 7 months

Latest Comments