WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Something Wonderful: The Starbugs – Mr Tambourine Man
byVanderleunonDecember 12, 2019
Turn up the speakers, dance around the room, improve your politics-blighted week. This is the first version I’ve heard that I like better than the original. Even though lots of folks have covered it, this one will blow your aging mind if you’ve a mind left to be blown. Especially when they really turn it on.
And… that’s it for me for today. I’m going out to get a life. You get one too.
FOREVER YOUNG: The Starbugs, clockwise from left, Jessie Hilell, Ben Anderson, Sarah Whitaker, Roisin Anderson, Rebecca Jenkins,
Her name is Jessie Hillel and she is Indian, from New Zealand.
In the above video she was about 8-10 and is about 17-18 now, and seems to be gaining some success.
Larry GeigerDecember 13, 2019, 4:59 AM
Well at least they can sing. Dylan can’t.
John VenletDecember 13, 2019, 5:06 AM
A pure melodic treat. Thank you.
Phil in EnglewoodDecember 13, 2019, 6:15 AM
The very best thing about Bob Dylan is that he wrote great songs to be sung by other people.
Kevin DicksonDecember 13, 2019, 6:56 AM
After weeks of being exposed to Greta’s self righteous indignation…..it was nice to see children enjoying their world…….childlike. Thanks…it made my day.
SkorpionDecember 13, 2019, 12:11 PM
You do realize that Dylan wrote this song about his *dealer*, don’cha?
CallmelennieDecember 13, 2019, 1:39 PM
What octave was little blondie, Rebecca Jenkins singing in — Childo Soprano? It was angelic; just the most beautiful thing I ever heard
mharkoDecember 13, 2019, 5:58 PM
naysayers, thanks for the obligatory buzzkill. Whose service you in? ‘His dealer, he can’t sing’ etc. Where do you get off? Are we there yet?
ghostsniperDecember 13, 2019, 6:14 PM
While there has been speculation that the song is about drugs, particularly with lines such as “take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship” and “the smoke rings of my mind”, Dylan has denied the song is about drugs. Though he was smoking marijuana at the time the song was written, Dylan was not introduced to LSD until a few months later.
In August 1964 the Beatles were sitting in their limo waiting for Brian to return when out of nowhere Bob Dylan jumped in and fired up a doob. They all gawked with dinner plate orbs at Dylan as he pulled a huge draw then bent over holding his nose and heaving to keep from coughing. He leaned back in the seat and blew out a pacific cloud across the ceiling and handed it to George who eagerly took it while giggling. Dylan said, “The problem with you guys is that you just don’t smoke enough dope.”
Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations
Tolling for the deaf an’ blind, tolling for the mute
Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an’ cheated by pursuit
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Even though a cloud’s white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
An’ the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An’ for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
They will declare: Every journey has been taken.
You shall respond: I have not been to see myself.
They will insist: Everything has been spoken.
You shall reply: I have not had my say.
They will tell you: Everything has been done.
You shall reply: My way is not complete.
You are warned: Any way is long, any way is hard.
Fear not. You are the gate – you, the gatekeeper.
And you shall go through and on . . .
—Alexandros Evangelou Xenopouloudakis, THIRD WISH
ARTIST: CASEY KLAHN
from The Painter by Neil Young
The painter stood Before her work She looked around every where She saw the pictures and she painted them She picked the colors from the air Green to green Red to red Yellow to yellow In the light Black to black When the evening comes Blue to blue In the night
To the Stonecutters
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
Search American Digest’s Back Pages
Contemplation of the Sword
Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide.
The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel,
formerly used to kill men, but here
In the sense of a symbol. The sword: that is: the storms
and counter-storms of general destruction; killing
of men,
Destruction of all goods and materials; massacre, more or
less intentional, of children and women;
Destruction poured down from wings, the air made accomplice,
the innocent air
Perverted into assassin and poisoner.
The sword: that is: treachery and cowardice, incredible
baseness, incredible courage, loyalties, insanities.
The sword: weeping and despair, mass-enslavement,
mass-torture, frustration of all hopes
That starred man’s forehead. Tyranny for freedom, horror for
happiness, famine for bread, carrion for children.
Reason will not decide at last, the sword will decide.
from Preludes
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
from Canto CXV BY EZRA POUND
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
“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’.”
Ferreya
ARTIST: GIBSON
Edwin Deakin, American
Hillegas
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
FOREVER YOUNG: The Starbugs, clockwise from left, Jessie Hilell, Ben Anderson, Sarah Whitaker, Roisin Anderson, Rebecca Jenkins,
![That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/welcometohell-150x150.jpg "That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]")
Gerard Van der Leun
Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
The scientists are in terror
Comments on this entry are closed.
That was a total delight!!! Thank you.
Loud…Then louder. Wonderfulness added. Then louder again.
They sing now, not realizing what we’ve all left for them down the road.
Poor little fuckers…..
Talent in youth is one of my favorite things. Brings to mind The Byrds’ version.
By a happening of serendipity, the children led me to listen to Mozambique by Dylan.
Have great weekend!
I never knew that Dylan was a 8 year old girl singing.
What a treat.
The kids are our future, just like we were.
Things are going to be OK.
I’ve been waiting half a century for that. I am fulfilled.
I find the most wonderful things here, Gerard. Thank you!
Those vocals are incredible! They were having fun with it too, especially Jessie the lead singer whose voice is so rich and pure.
Definitely sending this to family and friends. Young kids in 2019 paying homage to classic rock songs from the mid-60s — and absolutely owning it!
What year is this from?
Here’s the lead singer singing Ave Maria for the “New Zealand’s Got Talent” show.
https://youtu.be/S7X5L4TqYcw
What a voice!
Her name is Jessie Hillel and she is Indian, from New Zealand.
In the above video she was about 8-10 and is about 17-18 now, and seems to be gaining some success.
Well at least they can sing. Dylan can’t.
A pure melodic treat. Thank you.
The very best thing about Bob Dylan is that he wrote great songs to be sung by other people.
After weeks of being exposed to Greta’s self righteous indignation…..it was nice to see children enjoying their world…….childlike. Thanks…it made my day.
You do realize that Dylan wrote this song about his *dealer*, don’cha?
What octave was little blondie, Rebecca Jenkins singing in — Childo Soprano? It was angelic; just the most beautiful thing I ever heard
naysayers, thanks for the obligatory buzzkill. Whose service you in? ‘His dealer, he can’t sing’ etc. Where do you get off? Are we there yet?
While there has been speculation that the song is about drugs, particularly with lines such as “take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship” and “the smoke rings of my mind”, Dylan has denied the song is about drugs. Though he was smoking marijuana at the time the song was written, Dylan was not introduced to LSD until a few months later.
In August 1964 the Beatles were sitting in their limo waiting for Brian to return when out of nowhere Bob Dylan jumped in and fired up a doob. They all gawked with dinner plate orbs at Dylan as he pulled a huge draw then bent over holding his nose and heaving to keep from coughing. He leaned back in the seat and blew out a pacific cloud across the ceiling and handed it to George who eagerly took it while giggling. Dylan said, “The problem with you guys is that you just don’t smoke enough dope.”
Unrestricted joy.
Thank you GVDL for posting.
Thank you so much, Gerard. Will be sharing this everywhere and just bought the album.
I hope Bob has seen this!