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Title: broken glass
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various
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Published: Oct 14, 2008
Author: wadosy
Post Date: 2008-10-14 03:40:10 by wadosy
Keywords: music, youtube
Views: 6857
Comments: 218
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#106. To: All (#105)
Nanci's an Austin, and an American, treasure.
that song says about everything you need to know. if the sons of bitches would just leave us alone.
Shawn and Allison were great - thanks.
That's all that we want. Get the eff out of our lives, and let us live free. Get it?
we have elections every so often... maybe every so often we should have a culling. what would be a reasonable interval between cullings? every twenty years? would an imminent culling keep the assholes in line?
TJ suggested a culling/revolution every twenty years. We are way, way, way, overdue.
the judges of the culling would have to be incorruptible. it always comes back to that... who's gonna be god? i guess if you let things degenerate far enough, it gets so bad that nobody has to play god.
Oh, I wish I was in the land of cotton, In Dixie Land, where I was born in, I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray! Optional Verses Ole Missus marry "Will the weaver" But when he put his arm around 'er, His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaver Ole Missus acted the foolish part Now here's a health to the next ole Missus But if you want to drive 'way sorrow There's buckwheat cakes and Injun batter, Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel, What fun! This was actually in our 5th grade Michigan song book when I was in elementary school. We used to love to belt it out. 'Course we had to do the obligatory "Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory" just to keep things on the up & up. Know what I mean?? My favorite lines are But when he put his arm around 'er, That stanza was scrubbed out of our version if I remember correctly.
I see psyops everywhere.
Nice arch-top pickin' there, Lod. Thanks.
I see psyops everywhere.
I miss the way that things used to be. In most all ways. Not that they were perfect, but they were not so hideously corrupt, and in your face about it. buckwheat may bring this festering boil to a much needed lancing.
could be things were never the way they used to be. could be that this country's been so fat, right from the start, that we could afford to overlook the bullshit.
poverty stricken ideas... that's me. i was so desperate to escape college that i joined the marine corps to go to flight school in 1964. if i'd had one single lucid moment, i might have, instead of joining the marine corps, moved to someplace where i might have been able to play with people i could have learned from... then comes the hard part... what obligation do you have to play to entertain people? is playing itself enough to please whatever it is that gives the impulse to play in the first place?
cant watch it
If you ever even been near that situation, it will tear your heart out. Two hearts broken, two lives wasted.
talking about dixie... i was on a fire contract in tennessee, and there are so many good players out in the sticks there that apparently have no ambition at all about their music. maybe the music is the end... maybe that's all you need to do... maybe you dont need recordings or television or anything. maybe the audience is something unfathomable.
i should have said, "i've watched it, and i wont watch it again. it seems to be commercialization of something that, in any decent society, would not be commercialized." that's probably why i cant watch or listen to the chicks' "travelin' soldier" anymore.
that's probably why i cant watch or listen to the chicks' "travelin' soldier" anymore. Not exactly sure what you mean by commercialized. If song, or any other product or service, is widely liked, bought, and supported by the public, what's wrong with that? Isn't that what we're (supposed) to be about? If you recorded, and sold a world-wide hit, what would be wrong with that? I'd salute you.
hotel calfornia acoustic
heard it through the grapevine
the night they drove old dixie down
artist Okna Tsahan Zam song title unknown thanks to gengis gandhi
that song (immediately above) has started me thinking about the intelligence of songwriters... the upshot being, i dont think i'm smart enough to write a song like that, and i might not even be smart enough to learn a song like that. i wish i knew where that song came from.
#107. To: All (#106)
#108. To: All (#107)
#109. To: All (#108)
#110. To: All (#109)
#111. To: All (#110)
(Edited)
#112. To: groundresonance (#107)
#113. To: Lod (#112)
#114. To: groundresonance (#111)
#115. To: groundresonance, 4 (#113)
...if the sons of bitches would just leave us alone.
#116. To: Lod (#115)
Get it?
#117. To: groundresonance (#116)
#118. To: Lod (#117)
#119. To: X-15 (#85)
Dixie
by Daniel Decatur Emmett of Mount Vernon, Ohio
Old times there are not forgotten, (Alt Original: Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom,)
Look away, look away, look away Dixie Land.
early on one frosty mornin',
Look away, look away, look away Dixie Land.
In Dixie Land I’ll take my stand
to live and die in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie
Willum was a gay deceiver
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
He smiled fierce as a forty pounder,
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
But that did not seem to grieve 'er
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
And died for a man that broke her heart
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
An' all the gals that want to kiss us;
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
Come and hear this song tomorrow
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
Makes you fat or a little fatter
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
To Dixie's Land I'm bound to travel,
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
He smiled fierce as a forty pounder,
#120. To: randge, 4 (#119)
#121. To: All (#120)
#122. To: Lod (#120)
#123. To: randge, 4 (#122)
#124. To: All (#118)
#125. To: Lod (#123)
(Edited)
I miss the way that things used to be.
#126. To: All (#124)
(Edited)
#127. To: groundresonance, 4 (#124)
my greatest, most sad, country song - ever -
#128. To: Lod (#127)
#129. To: groundresonance (#128)
(Edited)
#130. To: All (#126)
#131. To: Lod (#127)
(Edited)
whiskey lullaby
#132. To: groundresonance, 4 (#131)
i should have said, "i've watched it, and i wont watch it again. it seems to be commercialization of something that, in any decent society, would not be commercialized."
#133. To: All (#131)
#134. To: All (#133)
#135. To: All (#134)
#136. To: All (#135)
#137. To: groundresonance (#136)
(Edited)
#138. To: All (#137)
#139. To: All (#138)
#140. To: lead.and.lag (#138)
the intelligence of songwriters
-Alex Kurtagic
#141. To: X-15 (#140) (Edited)
well, there's a superior intelligence at work in that video.... i'm like a caveman that's just figured out how to scratch a hole in the ground and plant a bean, stumbling onto an airconditioned tractor and an eight-bottom plow. i dont understand it the intelligence of songwriters
#142. To: All (#141) (Edited)
plastic canadian shania twain shut up, take your goddamned shirt off, and sing
#143. To: All (#142)
#144. To: All (#143) (Edited)
#145. To: All (#144)
#146. To: All (#145)
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