September 19, 2004
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A Call to Arms!, or
A call from Arms’!, or
In ‘Arm’s Way, or
Oh, hell–YOU come up with something! Must I do ALL the darn work around here?
The time has come. We can no longer afford the luxury tax of disparity and obliquecity, or even the thumb tax, the syntax, or the Glass Wax. There is a creeping blight on the amber waves of grain, and we can no longer waive the grain of the pain, or the name of our game. We cannot dawdle, we cannot coddle, we cannot muddy the waters. We must not continue to dork and dick and mork and mindy around. We must grab the bull by the tail and look the situation squarely in the eye of the perfect storm. To do anything else would be madness.
But what can we do? Ask the greeter at Wal-mart, ask the lady in red, ask the wolf who’s knocking at heaven’s door, ask the cop who’s knocking on YOUR front door–the answer will be the same. We must look deep within, de-pack our chakras, we must eschew illusion and delusion and cold fusion, without Sigfried and Roy and Rogers–yea, even withour Hammerstein. Even without gold, Frankenstein, and myrth.
No, my fiends, and no good ends will come from the guitars. Ask yourself now–am I an animal; a vegetable; or a potable? Am I a LAN or a louse? Do I know chalk from a chainsaw? Do I have what it takes to bake my mistakes? Is the free alternate side-street parking legal on Wednesday or Tuesday Weld?
Because in the end, we are all guilty as charged, and the charge of the battery of the salted peanuts is about to exhale. Herbalists, unite–ask not what your comfrey can do for you, ask what you can do for your comfrey.
The dingleberry of destiny waits to be plucked!
Be there!
Comments (7)
Uh, where? …and I gotta ask myself if the part of Destiny where the dingleberries dangle is really where I wannabe.
miss destiny must be waiting for prince charmin
and confusion rained down on all of us…but was it your words…na…it was the truth of their message…have a great day…Sassy
Surrealist subliminal writing which really grabs one. To be enjoyed like poetry. I’ve used computers over ten years now and still don’t know what a LAN is. That’s ok. I guess you might have been listening to Dizzy Gillespie (‘s music) when you recorded/created this. What to do, what to do, that’s always the question, and in the end ……. what to do? Just go on, is what I do.
I came back and read it again. I think it was that “chalk from a chainsaw” line that got me.
You found some old stash didn’t you?
Armageddon outa here now….
what a colorful way to say…where the hell are we eatin woman!?!
Have fun kids!