Time to bring back the Exploding Meat Puppet, James?

Happy birthday Jymn!  Nothing can stand in your way when you're a boy!

Aladdin James

Saturday night was the year-end office party. Theme: Glam Rock. I was one of two guys of about 400 who had actually been alive for that phenomenon. As I had recently a chance to visit the fantastic "David Bowie Is" exhibition when visiting Jai in Chicago, I was well prepared. If you haven't seen it recently check out the "Boys Keep Swinging" video. I forgot how hilarious it is.

Why We Fight II

Uniformed men line the streets, armed for our protection
To guard us from those criminals who have the wrong complexion
When things go wrong they know that they’ll be let off by the jury
And this is in the USA, in Ferguson Missouri

So this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Now's not the time to stop and rest
For this is why we fight

I'm not sure how long these will stay up:

New Bryan Ferry

New Robert Wyatt anthology

Why We Fight

A first draft of an Election Day song....


Some will fall in glory, and others fall in shame
Still others give up because both sides seem the same
Some fear humiliation, some direct attack
But sometimes when we’re broken, new roots grow through the crack

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though sometimes we must stop and rest
This is why we fight

Happy happy birthday baby

Many happy returns of the day, Tracette, and my best to Tim the Horse!

Jack of Diamonds

A re-write of "Rye Whiskey", more or less:


Jack of Diamonds, he said go ahead boy and spin it
Jack of Diamonds, he said if you want it you’ll win it
His two one-eyed brothers are sleeping or dead
The king offed himself with a sword through the head
Everything can change in the tiniest minute
Oh, Jack of Diamonds

Jack of Diamonds calls the Queen out to bring you good luck
And when she appears you will know you’ve been struck
Before you can see it you’ll be hit by the flash
That opens the future and wipes out the past
Your one chance at freedom mows you down like a truck
Oh, Jack of Diamonds

Jack of Diamonds says pull it, there’s no time to wait
What looked like mere chance will be turned into fate
He says now’s the moment but you’ll have to jump
There’s only one card left but he’ll make it the trump
Oh why did I listen, it’s already too late
Oh, Jack of Diamonds

The modern world's not so bad...

Greetings from Singapore. I've taken up a job here as MD of Citco Fund Services. Still keeping a place in Mumbai and Bangalore. Will be traveling to the US a bit more regularly in the next year. Where shall we meet? Email me at tiojymn@gmail.com. Cheers!

Waving Goodbye

You just love the one who leaves you
You just love to watch men go
You love waving from the window
Humming the saddest songs you know

At the airport or bus station
The only time that we embrace
Is when you watch me going
A brave look on your face

Don’t want to travel
I’d rather stay
You only see me
When you see me slip away

You watch me pack my suitcase
So happy that you get to cry
You always love the one who leaves you
You just love to wave goodbye

Happy birthday,  Poppa.  I'll let my train be my feet if it's too far to walk to you.

Sorry to hear about Jim Rockford, Jim.  He had a good run.

The Overnight Journey From the Last Darkness To This One (by River)

Lie, let the darkness come
Let yourself float down the river
Down its sweet, dark stream
Rest, let go of the day
Don't be afraid of night
Dream the hardest dream

You can’t take flowers with you
Just one smooth small stone
Ravens and owls will watch you
You’re not alone

See, the sun starts to dissolve
Goes out like a spark
But stars can only shine 
When the sky’s grown dark

Lie, hear the river’s song
Words that cannot be spoken
Words that melt in light
Drift into the night
Dream the hardest dream

RIP Tommy Ramone
Now there were none

I've been reading Richard Hell's memoir, I Dreamed I Was A Very Clean Tramp. He's sort of a dope, of course, but this observation had a certain resonance with the Brothers Twain: "Of course what's deepest down inside is boring; it's actually the surface that's interesting, even though it's often deceptive.  We're probably all the same as each other deep down inside."

Today's Verse: 20 May 2014

The law conserves all stains
Removed at home
They find their way to a better life
They find their way

The law preserves all pains
Endured at birth
They make their way forevermore
They make their way

Parse the debris
Parse the debris
I'm looking for something
It's looking for me

The law describes all vice
Forbidden in vain
It makes its way from vanity
It makes it's way

The law derives a price
Measured in blood
It leads the way from penury
It leads the way

Parse the debris
Parse the debris
I'm looking for something
It's looking for me

I won't be misled
By herrings of red
I won't be deceived
By visions that please
I'm not going to fall
For your foldearol
I'm telling you dear
And I'm telling you clear

The law exalts desire
Emboldened by need
It shows the way to eternal life
It shows the way

The law entails failure
To observe itself
A beacon of burning futility
A portal flung wide on a mystery
Empty, corrupt, and now you see
What I was looking for

The Hunter of Song

The Hunter of Song goes into the jungle
Armed only with his loin-cloth and knife
To battle the song right on its own turf
To pay, if he must, with his life
And once he has seized it, he looks in its face
He demands that it tell him its Name
And then, only then he returns to the world
His face glowing with the song’s flame

I do my songwriting
Without the sacrifice
I write my songs in comfort
With a cold drink over ice
All I ever do is
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo
All I ever say is
Yay-yeah-yeah yeah-yeah-yay
All I ever do is
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo


The Sculptor of Song digs in the ground
For the one perfect rough stone
Once he has started, his chisel can’t rest
Until the song’s completely his own
The Priest of Song will not approach the Muse
Till he has been purified
Then he returns and sings till dawn
The Spirit now moving from inside

I do my songwriting
Without the sacrifice
I write my songs in comfort
With a cold drink over ice
All I ever do is
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo
All I ever say is
Yay-yeah-yeah yeah-yeah-yay
All I ever do is
Doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo

I'm unable to write in the text box, can't figure out why

That's annoying.  Try using a different browser?  --JB

Summa Babalogicum

You show me my life through a prism
Of my own foolish narcissism
And tempt me to buy what isn’t
Anything but a false reflection
That pretty picture in the mirror
The songs that flatter every hearer
You say they will bring me nearer
To a made-up image of perfection

Please don’t try to tell me anything
Please don’t try to sell me anything
I’m not clientele, or anything
I’m alright doing pretty well

You want to sell me a rebellion
Free me up to be a hellion
It’s a bit too Machiavellian
Must I pay for my own prostitution?
Buy yourself some outlaw tattoos
You have but your chains to lose
And we can sell you matching shoes
Shopping is a form of revolution

Please don’t try to tell me anything
Please don’t try to sell me anything
I’m not clientele, or anything
I’m alright doing pretty well

Red team, blue team, same team, new team
Pictures of whatever you dream
Brand new colors, same old régime
Anyway, I know I’ll end up paying
Sorry, friend, you kind of lost me
All these slogans just exhaust me
Tell me what it’s going to cost me
So I can cheer the new flag we’re displaying

Please don’t try to tell me anything
Please don’t try to sell me anything
I’m not clientele, or anything
I’m alright doing pretty well

Happy birthday, dear Critter.  It is only with your eyes I see.

This Swelling of the Tide

Today I was talking to some people who work at the University of California, Riverside and I said by way of making conversation, I hope you're having nice sunny weather like we are up here in Oakland, which, of course they are, they're in southern California, and that's what the first woman said, she said oh yes it's very nice, it's sunny but it's also windy.  You know, the Santa Ana winds. And then the other woman said, Look at those palm trees bending over.  This is a true story, as best as I can remember it.

Unknown Unknowns

In the "Spheres of Influence" erotico-polical vein:


I saw Donald Rumsfeld
On a TV Show last night
That bastard may be crazy
But I've come to think he's right:

All knowledge is provisional, there is no fixed ideal
The world's just a construct that we pretend is real
Everything in love and war's just patterns in the swerve
There's nothing really true or false, just triumph of the nerve

Known unknowns
Unknown unknowns
There's no room for a demilitarized zone
Known unknowns
Unknown unknowns
All these unknown unknowns

The day I came into your house and made you my girl Friday
You fought and bit, but I prevailed.  Freedom's not so tidy.
We had a week-long party dedicated to annihilation
Til you covered me with flowers and we called it liberation.

Known unknowns
Unknown unknowns
Our former friends are now overthrown
Known unknowns
Unknown unknowns
All these unknown unknowns

It's true I bound you up and attempted asphyxiation
But then you covered me all over in shame and humiliation
Eventually I pushed you in the booby trap I'd built
But if there's nothing true or false, how can there be guilt?

Known unknowns
Unknown unknowns
Finally we all stand alone
Known unknowns
Unknown unknowns
All these unknown unknowns

Sub Mission (2)

From Bandra to Banda Sea



Still Can't Say No

Thinking today of the song that goes, "Someone talking, talking says that he's a socialist, whatever the hell that means.  I never got the gist.  I can understand why somebody would think that I am queer, but that he'd be just like me is the only thing I fear.  And still I can't say no."

Music Cage

Last Call

Last call
Let's go
The party's over, we've been left behind
Last call
We're done
Like melted ice cubes & a lemon rind

Last call
Head home
The bartender's packing up his cut-up limes
Tip well
Poor guy
You told him your most boring stories several times

Here's to those who look up and see
That Venus and Dionysus have fled
Nothing left but a Daily Show rerun
Some PopTarts, then off to bed

Last call
So sad
The drugs we took were not quite proper
Last call
Time's up
Everyone else had ecstasy and poppers



All the rest found a better party
To which you and I were not invited
Sad to say, our love for the in-crowd
Is a love unrequited

Last call
Show's done
The only music is the ringing in our ears
Last call
Pack up
But grab some swizzle-stick souvenirs
It's the only way to show that we were here

Elegy

Jimmy called up and I knew right away
It was years in the coming, but it happened today
I knew what it'd be even before he said,
"It finally happened.  I'm sorry.  He's dead."
You'd bragged and you'd treated it all like joke
But the illness was stronger and you finally broke
Someone, I know, should have been there and stayed.
I'm sorry you were alone.  I hope you weren't afraid.

I think of the good times, just like you're supposed to
So fun to be with, so hard to be close to
Sometimes I ignored your lies and deceit
Thinking those are allowed to a poète maudit
As if your pretension to being an artist
Excused certain choices, perhaps not the smartest
But whatever I say to try and dismiss you
I can't see the bottom to how much I'll miss you

I'm saying this now trying to fill up the void
I know if you heard it you'd just be annoyed
Of course you would find it all dumb and cliché
At best you might smile and say, "Yeah, it's OK"
Or maybe this once, maybe you'd condescend
To accept something given with love from a friend
I wish it were better. It's all that I've got.
You're dead now, you bastard. You're dead and I'm not.

Parlor Song

There once was a flower that grew in a hedge
She filled up my heart with her scent
Today when I looked, the flower was gone
And nobody knew where she went

Oh why should I weep
Oh why should I cry
The flower is gone
But her scent still stays by

There once was a bird who lived in a tree
And delighted us all with his song
Then some thoughtless boy killed my bird with a shot
And now my most dear friend is gone

Oh why should I weep
Oh why should I cry
My dear friend is gone
But his song still stays by

There once was a mermaid who lived in a brook
And her voice was the sound of a dream
The mermaid has vanished, I'll see her no more
But I still hear her voice in the stream

Oh why should I weep
Oh why should I cry
My mermaid is gone
But her voice still rolls by