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“The serpent’s eyes shine”

It was a pretty big year for fashion
A lousy year for rock and roll
The people gave their blessing to crimes of passion
It was a dark, dark night for the collective soul
I was somewhere out on Riverside
By the El Royale Hotel
When a stranger appeared in a cloud of smoke
I thought I knew him all too well

He said: “Now that I have your attention
I got somethin’ I wanna say
You may not wanna hear it
I’m gonna tell it to ya anyway
You know, I’ve always liked you, boy
‘Cause you were not afraid of me
But things are gonna get mighty rough
Here in Gomorrah-By-The-Sea”
He said: “It’s just like home
It’s so damned hot, I can’t stand it
My fine seersucker suit is all soakin’ wet”

And the hills are burning
The wind is raging
And the clock strikes midnight
In the Garden of Allah

“Nice car………
I love those Bavarians…..so meticulous
Y’know, I remember a time when things were a lot more fun around here
When good was good, and evil was evil
Before things got so…….fuzzy
Yeah, I was once a golden boy like you
I was summoned to the halls of power in the heavenly court
And I dined with the deities who looked upon me with favor
For my talents; my creativity
We sat beneath the palms in the warm afternoon
And drank the wine with Fitzgerald and Huxley
They pawned a biting phrase
From tongues hot with blood
And drained their pens of bitter ink
Vainly reaching for the bottle of empty Edens
Branded specially for the ones
Who had come with great expectations
To the perfumed halls of Allah
For their time in the sun”
We were stokin’ the fires
And oilin’ up the machinery
Until the gods found out we had ideas of our own

And the war was coming
And the earth was shaking
And there was no more room
In the Garden of Allah

“Today I made and appearance downtown
I am an expert witness, because I say I am
And I said, ‘Gentleman….and I use that word loosely…I will testify for you
I’m a gun for hire, I’m a saint, I’m a liar
Because there are no facts, there is no truth, just data to be manipulated
I can get you any result you like….what’s it worth to ya?
Because there is no wrong, there is no right
And I sleep very well at night
No shame, no solution
No remorse, no retribution
Just people selling t-shirts
Just opportunity to participate in this pathetic little circus
And winning, winning, winning”

It was a pretty big year for predators
The marketplace was on a roll
And the land of opportunity
Spawned a whole new breed of men without souls
This year, notoriety got all confused with fame
And the devil is downhearted
Because there’s nothing left for him to claim
He said: “It’s just like home
It’s so low-down, I can’t stand it
I guess my work around here has all been done”

And the fruit is rotten
The serpent’s eyes shine
As he wraps around the vine
In the Garden of Allah

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • Anonymous April 22, 2022, 5:09 PM

    Those clumsy bumbling Bavarians saw it and knew it. Didn’t do them one iota of good, howling in the wilderness.

    Because here we are again.

    Now there *are* Groomers in the Gardens of Allah, forsooth. But they’re not the ones y’all ought to be worrying about. Don’t look at the red flag.. Watch the Matador and his Sword… O Cattle. For once, See!

    Tamám shud.

  • ThisIsNotNutella April 22, 2022, 5:36 PM

    Unrelated but Related.

    One for the true crime buffs:

    There are none so blind as those who will not see. It’s pretty clear that on the balance of probabilities a woman cuckolded her new and improved model fiancé and gave the cold shoulder to the man who had impregnated her and then lied about it (the reason for his suicide and cryptic last message to her) for the rest of her life. And that she was not pressed on it the way a man in similar circumstances would have been.

    If men could survey the world with clear, cold, eyes they’d mostly go insane. So they don’t. And the wheel turns.

  • Anonymous April 22, 2022, 6:11 PM

    From the Conservatives Conserving Department:

    Well now he can go join the Benedictines or better yet the Trappists and STFU. Oh wait… My bad… Mount Athos it’s gotta be for Friend Rod.


    If only he hadn’t turned the other cheek so many times.

    Make a career out of pulling punches and you’re going to end up bitch slapped.

    The poor little man just got a tattoo to mark his visit to Jerusalem for Muh Orthodox Easter. Jaysus Wept.

    Sounds cruel. Could happen to anyone. Almost certainly not his fault… Wifey just decided he wasn’t the goods and checked out. But his business model is selling ‘solutions’ which don’t work and which lead good men into the maw. Mockery is cruel… but it’s prophylactic.

    • ThisIsNotNutella April 22, 2022, 6:18 PM

      This is also not Nutella. Accept no substitutes.

    • Mike Austin April 23, 2022, 2:48 AM

      It’s one thing to suffer—a condition no man escapes. It is quite another thing to expose your suffering for public viewing. Such a shameful thing comes very close to a carny act.

      In Dreher’s case it is a 3-ring circus: he is in one, his wife is in another, and his public is in the 3rd—whether they like it or not.

      • ThisIsNotNutella April 23, 2022, 3:54 AM

        He does tend to emote column inches… from somewhere.

        I figure Wifey developed a case of “Bollocks to his precious Dante and Beatrice @#$% and I’m danged if I’m going to stay married to a @#$%ing delusional milquetoast Third Act Abelard.”

        Could be worse. Could be David French. There’s no coming back from that.

        • Mike Austin April 23, 2022, 6:44 AM

          Dreher’s wife is no Heloise, who remained in love with Abelard even after his unfortunate incident. And David French? That pitiful beta male is little more than Bill Kristol’s special friend.

  • Skorpion April 23, 2022, 4:48 PM

    Don Henley and Randy Newman — two brilliant observers of the peculiar spiritual illness that’s endemic to L.A.

    And did anyone else think it was ironic that the late Kirk Douglas — a man certainly guilty of rape, and possibly of murder — was cast as Satan in the video?