Music Review: Paul Simon, Hearts and Bones

I was reading a magazine, thinking of a rock & roll song. The year was 1983. The song was the late great Johnny Ace, about a contemporary of Paul's, John Lennon, who was shot in New York City, three years before.

Cars are cars, all over the world.

Maybe I think too much.

If you want to write a love song, write a song about the moon.

Everybody loves a train in the distance. Everybody thinks its a train.

This is one of those, which, if you are lucky, you've never heard, except perhaps for the prophetic song, Allergies.

This is poetry, music, and things you think of all the time, rhyming with Simon and existing somewhere in the past, with Billy Joel and the Nylon Curtain, John Lennon's Rock&Roll, and Jethro Tull's Passion Play. All of them stretching out in musical waves, light years behind us, across the Universe.

The Oscars were on tonight

What an appropriate image for this ridiculous self-serving of Hollywood, offered up to us little people.

There are some really good movies being made. Once in awhile. Unfortunately, here they are presented by mediocre comedians in order to sell you your next prescription antihistamine. Tonight, skip it and go to the movies instead.

Or better yet, find something on Youtube to watch and support your local Googol.

Poem of the Night: Contrived You Find a Caress

Contrived you find a caress
In your dressing room,
Sad
It is only a bar of soap.

Slippery from the wet word go.
Fragrant as soap,
It is.

Terraces framed with wild roses
Not red, not yellow, not colorless.
See, how they tricked you with their
Beauty.
Somehow grown and manufactured both,
The beginning of sweet genetics.

Get behind the eyeball. See into the skin of the silken caress.
Belly up to the bar, now. Don’t flinch. Live on in sunken dreams.

Fantastic Four #93

I don't always identify with the Thing, but some days are just like this.

As a student of the mind, I find it fascinating to determine just who people identify with in this image. Today for me it is the Thing, but I am really focused on the individual with his thumb down in the background. Why is that person so against me, and who is he?

After all, the Gladiator is just doing his job. It's the onlookers that reveal the morbidity and the evil present in some humans.

To my mind, this is one of the greatest comic book covers ever printed. This is just awesome.

I don't care if no one is there, just don't answer if you're not.

This is one of those days that insane people have. Logic is suspended and emotion takes over. Sane people have these days too, but insane people deal with the stress of life by retreating into the unreal as much as possible.

What could be more unreal than a public online record that is invisible simply because no one ever looks at it? There is so much metaphysics and extentialism in the invisible blog, that I'm sure a thesis has been written on it, again that no one but the author and thesis committee have ever read.

This is why we have God, because He looks at our blogs and reads them, as well as the theses that we worked so hard on for so many months. In our sea of mediocrity, God swims around reading our unintelligible pangs and pains.