Or heaven… your smilage may vary.
Hell’s Jukebox
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
“The weight of this sad time we must obey. / Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.” — Lear
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Van der Leun: The Normblog Bio of Your Host
“From a student radical/hippie/leftist of the Free Speech Movement/Vietnam Day Commitee era and a full-on Democratic Liberal in the decades after, I think I’ve evolved a politics that is neither right nor left but is, in its elemental nature, draconian. In the last 20 years, I’ve taken apart my beliefs with a sledgehammer. Now I’ve got to put the surviving parts back together with tweezers and other ‘shabby equipment, always deteriorating’.”
A Wicker Basket
Comes the time when it’s later
and onto your table the headwaiter
puts the bill, and very soon after
rings out the sound of lively laughter—
Picking up change, hands like a walrus,
and a face like a barndoor’s,
and a head without any apparent size,
nothing but two eyes—
So that’s you, man,
or me. I make it as I can,
I pick up, I go
faster than they know—
Out the door, the street like a night,
any night, and no one in sight,
but then, well, there she is,
old friend Liz—
And she opens the door of her cadillac,
I step in back,
and we’re gone.
She turns me on—
There are very huge stars, man, in the sky,
and from somewhere very far off someone hands me a slice of apple pie,
with a gob of white, white ice cream on top of it,
and I eat it—
Slowly. And while certainly
they are laughing at me, and all around me is racket
of these cats not making it, I make it
in my wicker basket.
— BY ROBERT CREELEY
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Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
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Gerard Van der Leun
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Black Burgers Matter
Just found out about this amazing new restaurant called “Amplifying Black Voices” where you can buy non-racist hamburgers and anti-fascist milkshakes. pic.twitter.com/0JA1mELnYg
— Titania McGrath (@TitaniaMcGrath) July 1, 2020
Comments on this entry are closed.
I got nuthin’.
Wut?
Hahahahahahaha! Funny stuff.
Except for Hattie & Billy, which is obviously a “Chitlin Circuit” double-entendre comedy-songs LP, I’m curious as to what they *sound* like. Could the music *possibly* be as insufferable, ugly, or grotesque, as the sleeves are?
Hey Svetlana, can you air up my bassitball again?
Once you’ve tasted Dick Black you’ll never go back.
Saggy udder day at the dairy farm.
Sandwiching sweet Mrs Mills between the Tit for Tat naked Vampirina chick? That’s just naughty,Gerard. And funny.
The Malden album is disturbing. He looks like he’s channeling a clean-shaven John Wayne Gacy, and the young lady looks like a Happy Juggalo.
Put Clooney’s face for Malden’s,reading the speeches of BHO,with a transgender Bullwhip Griffin to his right, and it’s just another day at Disney, 2018. The more it changes, the more it stays the same.
Gerard-
Do you still have the one I sent you a couple of years ago?
I was disappointed not to see “Keep It Gay” in that collection.
Everything about that Karl Malden record is wrong.
Maya Angelou, whore dancing around an african camp fire while softly cooing black, feminist, MauMau love poetry is a pure picture of that old mammy.
“Do you still have the one I sent you a couple of years ago?
I was disappointed not to see “Keep It Gay” in that collection.”
Sorry. Must have missed that. I’ll look.
… Nope. Didn’t see it under the comcast or yahoo addresses.
Wait…wait, no, no…wait.
“Uncle Jemima Soap”?
I have that Anna Russel album. An interesting relic. It is comedy and music that at the time would have been decidedly middle-brow but to get it you really had to have some underlying knowledge. Unlike the most of the “comedy” today.
Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Diceman, but it’s a nice change of pace to hear comedy that requires a brain.