War Made Easy {promo link}
I will definitely be checking out this documentary. It looks at the last 50 years with an unbiased eye. Please do not hide from the opportunity to be informed.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Blue sky clear
He woke up and looked around
Watched the truth lie under ground
He spoke up loud blue sky clear
To only learn that no one cares
He thought he knew why he was here
He thought he could overcome the fear
That keeps us all from being real
Instead he learned not to feel
Because it hurts to be alone
It hurts more to be a stone
So go to sleep and forget
That we are angels of deep regret
Don't know where we're supposed to be
Cannot share what we see
We are stuck in between
A false smile and a scream
We think the world is our stage
When its just a giant cage
You left me there some time ago
But I escaped with my halo
It brought me here where I now live
If only I could just forgive
Leave behind thoughts of blame
Which always grow out of shame
Carry on persevere
Leave behind the veneer
We create what we destroy
While worshipping the decoy
He closed his eyes and fell asleep
And left the surface for the deep
Watched the truth lie under ground
He spoke up loud blue sky clear
To only learn that no one cares
He thought he knew why he was here
He thought he could overcome the fear
That keeps us all from being real
Instead he learned not to feel
Because it hurts to be alone
It hurts more to be a stone
So go to sleep and forget
That we are angels of deep regret
Don't know where we're supposed to be
Cannot share what we see
We are stuck in between
A false smile and a scream
We think the world is our stage
When its just a giant cage
You left me there some time ago
But I escaped with my halo
It brought me here where I now live
If only I could just forgive
Leave behind thoughts of blame
Which always grow out of shame
Carry on persevere
Leave behind the veneer
We create what we destroy
While worshipping the decoy
He closed his eyes and fell asleep
And left the surface for the deep
RADARSHERPA
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Cory Doctorow WSJ interview excerpt {link}
The Wall Street Journal just published a short interview with me[Cory] about
my[cory] story Scroogled, which appears in Radar this month. It's a
commissioned piece where the brief was, "Write a story about the day
Google turned evil," and it's the first Creative Commons-licensed story
to appear in Radar Magazine.
>
> WSJ.com: Are there signs of that at Google? Are they doing something that concerns you?
>
> Mr. Doctorow: Sure, absolutely, there have been lots of signs of that. I mean, one of the things that I think is in Google's DNA is a real tension about, on the one hand, being good to people, but on the other hand, acquiring as much information about them as they can, under the rubric that it allows them to be better to people.
>
> And it does, a lot of the time. There are lots of ways in which Google knowing more about you makes Google better for you. But without much regard to what's happening in the world around us, in an era in which the national security apparatus has turned into a kind of lumbering, savage, giant toddler, it behooves us to not leave things within arm's reach that it might stick in its mouth. And that includes things like my search history. And I'd prefer that Google not be storing a lot of that stuff, especially today, especially after Patriot [Act] and so on. They're inviting abuse, I think, by doing that. The steps you don't save can't be subpoenaed. And by saving them, Google is inviting a subpoena.
>
> So Google's always had this kind of "We will collect all your information, and it will belong to us, and you won't be able to take it away, but it's OK because we'll only do good things for you" attitude, and that's a bit of a problem.
========---------==========-------=======-==========-=======--========-==========
Scroogled is a great story. Cory Doctorow is one of my favorite writers. His intelligence is unmatched.
my[cory] story Scroogled, which appears in Radar this month. It's a
commissioned piece where the brief was, "Write a story about the day
Google turned evil," and it's the first Creative Commons-licensed story
to appear in Radar Magazine.
>
> WSJ.com: Are there signs of that at Google? Are they doing something that concerns you?
>
> Mr. Doctorow: Sure, absolutely, there have been lots of signs of that. I mean, one of the things that I think is in Google's DNA is a real tension about, on the one hand, being good to people, but on the other hand, acquiring as much information about them as they can, under the rubric that it allows them to be better to people.
>
> And it does, a lot of the time. There are lots of ways in which Google knowing more about you makes Google better for you. But without much regard to what's happening in the world around us, in an era in which the national security apparatus has turned into a kind of lumbering, savage, giant toddler, it behooves us to not leave things within arm's reach that it might stick in its mouth. And that includes things like my search history. And I'd prefer that Google not be storing a lot of that stuff, especially today, especially after Patriot [Act] and so on. They're inviting abuse, I think, by doing that. The steps you don't save can't be subpoenaed. And by saving them, Google is inviting a subpoena.
>
> So Google's always had this kind of "We will collect all your information, and it will belong to us, and you won't be able to take it away, but it's OK because we'll only do good things for you" attitude, and that's a bit of a problem.
========---------==========-------=======-==========-=======--========-==========
Scroogled is a great story. Cory Doctorow is one of my favorite writers. His intelligence is unmatched.
RADARSHERPA
He is always inside the center
Lying in his bed alone he wonders if the world is just a lie
He thinks of all the things he's done and wonders why it is he cannot cry
He wears a smile upon his face and oozes style and liquid grace
Even as he languishes thru time
He is meant to live a different life
Where you can all feel his hidden lite
Where he can use his gift of second sight
Staring into inner space and dreaming of another place
He wonders what it is he wants to taste
There's nothing for him to do
He wastes his time waiting for a chime
You wonder why he has become unglued
He is meant to be some where else
A place that he can almost smell
And everything he does will then gel
He's floating in a state of grace far away from the rat race
While all around confusion takes its toll
He is more than the past he remembers
Screened thru eratic mind benders
He is always inside the center
Struggling within himself he watches for a chance to escape
Karma is intangible and may be why it is so hard to break
And the sun will be seen again
And the night is still a friend
And everything doesn't have to end
He thinks of all the things he's done and wonders why it is he cannot cry
He wears a smile upon his face and oozes style and liquid grace
Even as he languishes thru time
He is meant to live a different life
Where you can all feel his hidden lite
Where he can use his gift of second sight
Staring into inner space and dreaming of another place
He wonders what it is he wants to taste
There's nothing for him to do
He wastes his time waiting for a chime
You wonder why he has become unglued
He is meant to be some where else
A place that he can almost smell
And everything he does will then gel
He's floating in a state of grace far away from the rat race
While all around confusion takes its toll
He is more than the past he remembers
Screened thru eratic mind benders
He is always inside the center
Struggling within himself he watches for a chance to escape
Karma is intangible and may be why it is so hard to break
And the sun will be seen again
And the night is still a friend
And everything doesn't have to end
RADARSHERPA
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
An actor's journey to opening night
"Nothing ever goes the way you expect it." He said this to him self. That can actually work in your favor when your expectations are low enough. It is nice to be pleasantly surprised and have things turn out more advantageously than you anticipate. This has been the case with the play he has found himself in. Almost everything about it had annoyed him. First off, he'd never felt any inclination whatsoever to ballroom dance in the first 4 decades of life. Suddenly, he was dancing with a heavy set fellow in the back yard of the director's house while his Australian Blue dog howled for attention. This is probably not the most favorable way to learn the Waltz, Foxtrot, Rumba and Mambo. The next point of contention involved the character he was portraying. Steven is basically a suck up and a pussy. He has a dorkish nature and will most likely do anything to get a "full window" (promotion) and make his way up the corporate ladder.
So these 3 went on rehearsing 3 days a week at first and then 4 days a week. The challenge of remembering lines, remembering dance steps, remembering blocking and then actually being able to act proved to be nearly overwhelming for this middle aged slacker. He began to doubt himself. There was one rehearsal where the director grilled him. Suggested that he just did not have the training to pull it off. This set the actor's confidence back to zero and he began to wonder if he should even go through with it. Somehow, he made it thru the weekend without seriously considering giving up. He realized that it was just about having fun. The director was trying to crack the shell of his resistance. Trying to light a fire under his ass. Trying to fill his head with the imaginative possibilities that could lie within the character's head. Trying to deliver the role on a silver platter while the actor languished within the abandoned house of his imaginations while the wind creaked the rusty doors and howled thru the cracked windows.
The week of dress rehearsals arrived after a weekend of 3 days off. Three days that he should have spent practicing. Instead, he surfed sloppy waves and tried to put the whole thing into perspective. Tried to not take it too seriously. Cut himself some slack. Cut the director some slack. He began to look at the role from a new angle. He found a way to like the character. He found a way to be the character. Breathing life into it required a completely nonjudgmental attitude. The week of dress rehearsals is called hell week. This is when opening night begins to loom into view. This is the week that others begin to see your work. Somehow, it all began to fall into place and their reaction exceeded his low expectations. Every one loved it. They kept saying things like "you guys are the best." Every night of dress rehearsals this is how it went. By the time opening night arrived, he was completely enjoying himself. In fact he was looking forward to the actual performance.
Opening night arrives and he enters backstage. The other actors cluster together, going over lines, others put on make up and costumes. 7 one act plays in one night add up to about 18 actors or so. His play is the sixth one and when he finally gets on the stage and feels the heat of the lights on his head and nose and stares into the glare which hides the audience, he does not blink. He has prepared himself with tai chi and playing the didjeridoo and has left no room for fear to sneak in - to his now occupied house - like rats who have become too brave. So the lights go up and the lines are all there when he needs them. He speaks with Jonathon and the temporary reality of the character he portrays takes over. They bond and dance, share and kiss ass, dance some more, support each other and some how impress the big boss. The final dance arrives and it is fun. They cut loose, let it all hang out. The audience follows their every word every step. They laugh at unexpected times. They seem to love it. The actors march off the stage and then return for the curtain call. The crowd applauds loudly and it sounds like not so distant thunder. He bows, not sure how to feel, the smile comes easy to his face though and he still cannot see the audience thru the glare of the black rimmed glasses. The feelings inside him do not have any names, they have layers to them and waves and invisible colors and they taste like a caress and he leaves the stage with his dance partner. The transformation has only begun.
So these 3 went on rehearsing 3 days a week at first and then 4 days a week. The challenge of remembering lines, remembering dance steps, remembering blocking and then actually being able to act proved to be nearly overwhelming for this middle aged slacker. He began to doubt himself. There was one rehearsal where the director grilled him. Suggested that he just did not have the training to pull it off. This set the actor's confidence back to zero and he began to wonder if he should even go through with it. Somehow, he made it thru the weekend without seriously considering giving up. He realized that it was just about having fun. The director was trying to crack the shell of his resistance. Trying to light a fire under his ass. Trying to fill his head with the imaginative possibilities that could lie within the character's head. Trying to deliver the role on a silver platter while the actor languished within the abandoned house of his imaginations while the wind creaked the rusty doors and howled thru the cracked windows.
The week of dress rehearsals arrived after a weekend of 3 days off. Three days that he should have spent practicing. Instead, he surfed sloppy waves and tried to put the whole thing into perspective. Tried to not take it too seriously. Cut himself some slack. Cut the director some slack. He began to look at the role from a new angle. He found a way to like the character. He found a way to be the character. Breathing life into it required a completely nonjudgmental attitude. The week of dress rehearsals is called hell week. This is when opening night begins to loom into view. This is the week that others begin to see your work. Somehow, it all began to fall into place and their reaction exceeded his low expectations. Every one loved it. They kept saying things like "you guys are the best." Every night of dress rehearsals this is how it went. By the time opening night arrived, he was completely enjoying himself. In fact he was looking forward to the actual performance.
Opening night arrives and he enters backstage. The other actors cluster together, going over lines, others put on make up and costumes. 7 one act plays in one night add up to about 18 actors or so. His play is the sixth one and when he finally gets on the stage and feels the heat of the lights on his head and nose and stares into the glare which hides the audience, he does not blink. He has prepared himself with tai chi and playing the didjeridoo and has left no room for fear to sneak in - to his now occupied house - like rats who have become too brave. So the lights go up and the lines are all there when he needs them. He speaks with Jonathon and the temporary reality of the character he portrays takes over. They bond and dance, share and kiss ass, dance some more, support each other and some how impress the big boss. The final dance arrives and it is fun. They cut loose, let it all hang out. The audience follows their every word every step. They laugh at unexpected times. They seem to love it. The actors march off the stage and then return for the curtain call. The crowd applauds loudly and it sounds like not so distant thunder. He bows, not sure how to feel, the smile comes easy to his face though and he still cannot see the audience thru the glare of the black rimmed glasses. The feelings inside him do not have any names, they have layers to them and waves and invisible colors and they taste like a caress and he leaves the stage with his dance partner. The transformation has only begun.
RADARSHERPA
Are you anybody's favorite person? (YouTube link)
I just watched a youtube video called "Are you anybody's favorite person?". The girl in the video encourages the viewer to make a video response to this question. I've decided to type something up first and then who knows? I may just do a vid. I do not believe I am anybody's favorite person. This sounds a bit bleak, I guess, but I cannot think of anything truly worthy that I have accomplshed or done. Who have I helped recently? What positive impact am I having on my fellow humans? It just may be that all I am doing is taking up space and adding to the dissonance that seems to have engulfed the world.
The next question: Who is your favorite person? My favorite person is Owen Wilson. Kind of cheesy to name somebody I have actually never met but too bad. I like Owen because he succeeds as an artist in at least 2 areas: acting and writing. He wrote and acted in the Royal Tenenbaums. This is one of the greatest movies I have ever seen. He also wrote and acted in a film called: Idiocracy. This is the greatest film than no one has friggin seen. I tell people to see it all the time but so far I think only one person acted on my suggestion. They were not disappointed. Owen Wilson is such a frigging genius that it blows me a way. Vidiocracy is both poigniant and funny. He takes the human tragedy of how we appear to be getting dumber and dumber with each passing generation. Sure, there are some super brains out there but the overall population is happily, docily and pathetically marching down the dead end street of extiction. Owen Wilson is able to unequivacally convey all of this tragic slop into a brilliant masterpiece. Of course, no one watched this movie because it is just too frigging intelligent. Some will say that it was not advertised enough. No, I think that it only appeals to folks that are not brain dead and so there you have it. Another reason I am writing this is because just a few weeks ago, Owen attempted to end his life. This still shocks me. As some one who aspires to write and act for a living, I see Owen as an example of having it all. Writing about the way the world is and where it is going in a funny way. Turning tragedy into humor. Who knows, maybe I can write a screenplay about Owen's struggle. Start it off with his rise, then his fall and then his scintillating comeback and return to the land of the loving. Owen, you are tremendously funny and remarkably insightful. I suggest you start surfing. Get in the ocean. Feel the shock of the cold water. Taste the salt. Paddle until it hurts. Catch some waves. Get pounded by some waves. When you get tired, ride one in and relax. Just want to thank you for all you have done. The world is a much better place with you around.
The next question: Who is your favorite person? My favorite person is Owen Wilson. Kind of cheesy to name somebody I have actually never met but too bad. I like Owen because he succeeds as an artist in at least 2 areas: acting and writing. He wrote and acted in the Royal Tenenbaums. This is one of the greatest movies I have ever seen. He also wrote and acted in a film called: Idiocracy. This is the greatest film than no one has friggin seen. I tell people to see it all the time but so far I think only one person acted on my suggestion. They were not disappointed. Owen Wilson is such a frigging genius that it blows me a way. Vidiocracy is both poigniant and funny. He takes the human tragedy of how we appear to be getting dumber and dumber with each passing generation. Sure, there are some super brains out there but the overall population is happily, docily and pathetically marching down the dead end street of extiction. Owen Wilson is able to unequivacally convey all of this tragic slop into a brilliant masterpiece. Of course, no one watched this movie because it is just too frigging intelligent. Some will say that it was not advertised enough. No, I think that it only appeals to folks that are not brain dead and so there you have it. Another reason I am writing this is because just a few weeks ago, Owen attempted to end his life. This still shocks me. As some one who aspires to write and act for a living, I see Owen as an example of having it all. Writing about the way the world is and where it is going in a funny way. Turning tragedy into humor. Who knows, maybe I can write a screenplay about Owen's struggle. Start it off with his rise, then his fall and then his scintillating comeback and return to the land of the loving. Owen, you are tremendously funny and remarkably insightful. I suggest you start surfing. Get in the ocean. Feel the shock of the cold water. Taste the salt. Paddle until it hurts. Catch some waves. Get pounded by some waves. When you get tired, ride one in and relax. Just want to thank you for all you have done. The world is a much better place with you around.
RADARSHERPA
Monday, September 24, 2007
Torture = Evil
I don't have anything to say to people who think that torture is acceptable.
I don't even have anything to say, beyond heaping moral opprobrium, on those who want to "debate" whether or not torture is acceptable. I don't have anything to say, nor am I interested in talking to people who believe in "free speech zones". I don't have anything to say to people who think it's acceptable to abrogate the fourth amendment by allowing the government to spy on citizens without a warrant from a judge based on probable cause and listing specifically what they're looking for. I don't have any time for people who want to argue that invading another country that didn't threaten the US, and selling that invasion based on lies was acceptable.--- Ian Welsh - The Missing American Middle
This guy makes a lot of sense. You may find it interesting. The link will take you to the rest of his opinion on the Agonist.
I don't even have anything to say, beyond heaping moral opprobrium, on those who want to "debate" whether or not torture is acceptable. I don't have anything to say, nor am I interested in talking to people who believe in "free speech zones". I don't have anything to say to people who think it's acceptable to abrogate the fourth amendment by allowing the government to spy on citizens without a warrant from a judge based on probable cause and listing specifically what they're looking for. I don't have any time for people who want to argue that invading another country that didn't threaten the US, and selling that invasion based on lies was acceptable.--- Ian Welsh - The Missing American Middle
This guy makes a lot of sense. You may find it interesting. The link will take you to the rest of his opinion on the Agonist.
RADARSHERPA
Friday, September 21, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Heart's a splinter
I just visited a crazy person
always cursing
always thirsting
I confronted their blatant slander
cannot stand her
cannot stand her self
She told me
she's the only one who
tells the truth in this town
I just watch as she takes a drag and
Blows more smoke all around
She tells me she only helped me
tried to find me
I know she's lying
It doesn't matter cause
She has no center
Its always winter
heart's a splinter
She tells me that she cannot talk to
cannot talk to me
I tell her that it doesn't matter
she cannot listen
always missing my words
And in between she's very nervous
beneath the surface
she feels worthless
No one smiles as the meeting closes
there are no roses
no more poses
I just visited a crazy person
always cursing
always thirsting
always cursing
always thirsting
I confronted their blatant slander
cannot stand her
cannot stand her self
She told me
she's the only one who
tells the truth in this town
I just watch as she takes a drag and
Blows more smoke all around
She tells me she only helped me
tried to find me
I know she's lying
It doesn't matter cause
She has no center
Its always winter
heart's a splinter
She tells me that she cannot talk to
cannot talk to me
I tell her that it doesn't matter
she cannot listen
always missing my words
And in between she's very nervous
beneath the surface
she feels worthless
No one smiles as the meeting closes
there are no roses
no more poses
I just visited a crazy person
always cursing
always thirsting
RADARSHERPA
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Its easier to breathe
We got a new holiday
Its called Black Op Day
No one wants to know
The truth behind the BS show
It's easier to breathe
When we got something we believe
Much harder to see
The actual reality
When nothing is what it seems
We bend light to suit our dreams
And when we disagree
With status quo reality
Just call us a name
And push us outside your frame
Cause its easier to breathe
When we got something to believe
There is nothing worse
Then losing your mind
Feels like you are cursed
And evryone is so unkind
You call me a name
Tell me I'm not the same
I think its lame
That you can only play one game
You got your box
It tells you what you believe
Helps you forget to dream
And it makes us all seem
Like we are just insane
While you cannot stand the pain
Of losing your mind
When everyone is so unkind
Like you are left behind
And no one can know
What it feels to burn inside
Like your soul's freeze-dried
You wish you could hide
But it's all on your sleave
And you won't get a reprieve
Cause its easier to breathe
When you got something to believe
Someone who can drive
So you can intoxicate
temporarily escape
The pain you deny
Is the shadow you are running from
I am breathing alone
providing the background tone
I'm gnawing on an old wish bone
And contemplating the unknown
Its called Black Op Day
No one wants to know
The truth behind the BS show
It's easier to breathe
When we got something we believe
Much harder to see
The actual reality
When nothing is what it seems
We bend light to suit our dreams
And when we disagree
With status quo reality
Just call us a name
And push us outside your frame
Cause its easier to breathe
When we got something to believe
There is nothing worse
Then losing your mind
Feels like you are cursed
And evryone is so unkind
You call me a name
Tell me I'm not the same
I think its lame
That you can only play one game
You got your box
It tells you what you believe
Helps you forget to dream
And it makes us all seem
Like we are just insane
While you cannot stand the pain
Of losing your mind
When everyone is so unkind
Like you are left behind
And no one can know
What it feels to burn inside
Like your soul's freeze-dried
You wish you could hide
But it's all on your sleave
And you won't get a reprieve
Cause its easier to breathe
When you got something to believe
Someone who can drive
So you can intoxicate
temporarily escape
The pain you deny
Is the shadow you are running from
I am breathing alone
providing the background tone
I'm gnawing on an old wish bone
And contemplating the unknown
RADARSHERPA
Saturday, September 08, 2007
In a rut
I am stuck in a rut
doesn't matter no one cares
where I was is not believed
who can guess what I have seen
drop it in the nearest hole
ignorance is the goal
what I know is worth 10 zeros
but not here and no one knows
so I walk around the latest phase
losing time in random ways
been inside this space before
In a room without a door
How did I get inside again
where there never seems to be an end
When every day's like yesterday
you can laugh or you can say
told you so you little man
you should have made a simple plan
Instead you live from day to day
Without hard work life's only play
Work is what will set you free
concentrate and just believe
that everything is just maybe
but don't you see the pointlessness
participating in thoughtlessness
so many suffer when you turn away
your closed eyes don't erase the blame
The fault gets passed from high to low
and then your gassed inside your home
You can laugh or you can say
told you so you little man
you knew it all was just a scam
there's nothing there no one in charge
no one who isn't behind bars
and now your country is no more
it was bought and sold just like a whore
by politician pimps and obediant chimps
they'd follow a dollar off a cliff
And their herd would follow in a jiff
the world always keeps its spin
out in the wild there is no sin
we just survive as best we can
some are wolves and most are lambs
some are dogs and some are cats
some are birds and some are bats
you can never know just where I'm at
No matter what you think you know
this human is just a simple crow
doesn't matter no one cares
where I was is not believed
who can guess what I have seen
drop it in the nearest hole
ignorance is the goal
what I know is worth 10 zeros
but not here and no one knows
so I walk around the latest phase
losing time in random ways
been inside this space before
In a room without a door
How did I get inside again
where there never seems to be an end
When every day's like yesterday
you can laugh or you can say
told you so you little man
you should have made a simple plan
Instead you live from day to day
Without hard work life's only play
Work is what will set you free
concentrate and just believe
that everything is just maybe
but don't you see the pointlessness
participating in thoughtlessness
so many suffer when you turn away
your closed eyes don't erase the blame
The fault gets passed from high to low
and then your gassed inside your home
You can laugh or you can say
told you so you little man
you knew it all was just a scam
there's nothing there no one in charge
no one who isn't behind bars
and now your country is no more
it was bought and sold just like a whore
by politician pimps and obediant chimps
they'd follow a dollar off a cliff
And their herd would follow in a jiff
the world always keeps its spin
out in the wild there is no sin
we just survive as best we can
some are wolves and most are lambs
some are dogs and some are cats
some are birds and some are bats
you can never know just where I'm at
No matter what you think you know
this human is just a simple crow
RADARSHERPA
Thursday, September 06, 2007
I am odd for this place
I am odd for this place
Always been outside the race
Motivation can’t be seen
I am king of make believe
Run around all day long
You are right I am wrong
Another day another wave
Another dollar another grave
You are young I am old
Only do what you are told
You are old I am young
You have work I have fun
Globe is warm space is cold
I am paper watch me fold
Words are lies to cover sighs
Hide your face when you cry
Everyone needs to feel
Like the sick need to heal
I am lost you are found
I will not make a sound
Combustion is everywhere
I smell smoke in every tear
It’s a small ant farm after all
I am John and you are Paul
Never know where I am
Never had a magic plan
Predatory atmosphere
All you got to do is scare
The mind will close
Like a door
This is the art of making war
I am free to obey
I am free as a lump of clay
What comes next I do not know
I’ll go to sleep and dodge tomorrow
When I do open my eyes
Today will bring its own surprise
Always been outside the race
Motivation can’t be seen
I am king of make believe
Run around all day long
You are right I am wrong
Another day another wave
Another dollar another grave
You are young I am old
Only do what you are told
You are old I am young
You have work I have fun
Globe is warm space is cold
I am paper watch me fold
Words are lies to cover sighs
Hide your face when you cry
Everyone needs to feel
Like the sick need to heal
I am lost you are found
I will not make a sound
Combustion is everywhere
I smell smoke in every tear
It’s a small ant farm after all
I am John and you are Paul
Never know where I am
Never had a magic plan
Predatory atmosphere
All you got to do is scare
The mind will close
Like a door
This is the art of making war
I am free to obey
I am free as a lump of clay
What comes next I do not know
I’ll go to sleep and dodge tomorrow
When I do open my eyes
Today will bring its own surprise
RADARSHERPA
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
RADARSHERPA
About Me
- Name: Dij
- Location: Ojai, California, United States
I am an enigmatic independent cultured chameleon that can be likened to a bizarre fruit tree growing out of an asphalt road bearing ever-changing/evolving strange fruit. contact: overtonewiz@gmail.com
Previous Posts
- Can’t See the Forest for the Barcode
- Barcode Colored Glasses
- All Are Chosen
- insights
- Identify with consciousness
- Evening of the playing field
- Lazy Susan
- Surf report for Sunday 26th of March 2017
- Ticket to the Present {excerpt 1}
- 24 vs La La
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