The Universe if Up For Grabs

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posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:39 PM
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This morning I looked at my profile here on ATS and it struck me: I have been posting here for more than 2 years! I have never been prolific. I like a good argument, but seldom feel strongly about something that I hold a grudge over it or make a life-long enemy. It’s not that I don’t believe in anything strongly enough. In fact – I have strong beliefs about a lot of thing; especially my wife, kids, country, creativity, freedom and the concept of “west.”

Like a lot of regulars at ATS, I was drawn here by stories about alien planets, night terrors, real life zombies and cosmic ascension – whatever form it takes. I read a lot and only tend to post when I am worked up about something, which is always a bad sign. I read to learn and post to teach, and that is always a trap. The truth is no one is looking for a guru to remind them when to stand up straight, or show their teeth to display sincerity. Most of us are locked in social personality orbits which occasionally threaten collision but rarely change trajectory until they are forced to do so. I am no different, and I am no better.

One of my passions is poetry, and I am a singer / songwriter, researcher and tech writer. I love a good shaggy dog tale or wild eyed conspiracy yarn. I am fascinated by language, and I believe that “words” – in and of themselves – possess an older form of (collective) intelligence. I suspect there must be a creator, but I distrust religion, because most seem inadequate as a solution to our shared world experience.

Occasionally, a thread will pop up here and there, exposing the notion that artists use conspiracy and alternative viewpoints as metaphor for the world around us. I know this is true because I live it. When I joined ATS in the summer of 2010, I was years away from art and music, facing yet another layoff in corporate telecommunications. My wife wanted me to make music again, and though it had been 20 years since I actively participated in rock n roll, or music of any kind, I was terrified. To be honest, I had no idea if I even could write. I was overwhelmed with a paralysis born from a single thought: what if I have nothing to say?

I started reading and posting at ATS and all of that changed. Here I found a community of seekers and storytellers I could draw from. Here I found a voice I could use to communicate an idea.

It’s an old idea, of course, that art, music and poetry are intertwined like alien DNA. Having written lyrics and music since I was 8 or 9 years old, I understood what I was up against, but my years of corporate personhood had taken their toll. It took a website like ATS to awaken the notion that I might still have something unique to contribute, and its been all downhill from there.

What follows are the lyrics to each of the nine songs from my October 2012 release: The Church of Entertainment Hedonism (Us Against Ourselves). I offer these back to the group, as it were. I make no claim to prophesy, or special vision. At best, my style is a Burrough’s-esque cut up of 4 or 5 various inputs, including my love for 70’s music, particularly Bowie, and my interest in alternative, conspiratorial thought and stories.

At just over 35 minutes, this is not a long record, and it is not a story about the end of the world as we know it. All though that all figures in somewhere. More than anything else, I hope that some of you will play along, listen, read, comment or criticize. That’s where the fun is.

Listen for free @ soundcloud: soundcloud.com...
Listen, see the art, read the lyrics, downloads in several formats, including lossless at my bandcamp site: thechurchofentertainmenthedonism.bandcamp.com...




posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:40 PM
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Five Tons of Flax

Every thirty one hundred and twenty five years or so
The Bozo Brigade and their whores all have a go
At running the whole damn thing in the dirt
To see how far down it can go
….And then they trade it all in on the backs of
A billion lost souls

Now – This is a SHOUT OUT to all of my friends in the Mesh
From Aji Gabbaro to Denny Koresh – and the rest
Too stubborn to quit and – too dumb to learn
We stare at the fire while the whole world burns

For FIVE – TONS OF FLAX we can trade it all in
On the last big bang 'fore the clocks
Go to zero – again

RISE RISE
Lift your eyes to the skies
And cash in your chips while the whole world dies
Tonight

Now its thirty one hundred and twenty five years down the HOLE
and the Bozo Brigade and their whores are still runnin' the show
They're DRIVIN' the whole damn thing off the tracks
To see how far down – it can go go go
….Before they trade it back in on the backs of a billion NEW souls

Now this is a SHOUT OUT to all of my friends in the Mesh
and every Bio-Morph Skin job who never sold out to the ‘PLEX
To all the Infonaut soldiers with – cold mirror stares
Who never bow down and DON’T say their prayers
We don't say our prayers

RISE RISE
Raise your eyes to the simulated skies
And GRIND for more E-X-P while the universe dies

RISE RISE
Strap your shells to a Paradox Drive
And Aim for the next BIG BANG while the universe dies

--For five tons of Flax--
--We’re gonna take it all back--
It’s thirty one hundred and twenty five years
For billions in bodies and trillions in tears
For five tons of Flax -- but don’t take it too far
And remember to aim for the prettiest star
--We want the prettiest star--
--We want the prettiest star--

RISE RISE
Raise your eyes to the simulated skies
And – play in the sun – while the universe dies



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:41 PM
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No Cover Anywhere

At the end of the world, on the edge of the night
Looking down the barrel of -- a girl
I like to ride; I like to rise up and -- soar across those tell-a-vision skies
And it’s just like Jimmy said it was

Cos’ you know there’s no cover anywhere
For -- people like you and me, my love
There’s no one coming to the rescue
So you aim for the center mass and you
Run and you run

You run and you run

In the light of the cold hard fact that you can’t always tell
What it’s like to be a human being when you
Live your whole life -- at the bottom of a gravity well
Looking up at the whole wide world
It’s looking down on you, in your safe little shell

But you know there’s no cover anywhere
For -- fools like you and me, my love
There’s no one coming to the rescue
So you aim for the center mass and you


Squeeze and let go

Ya squeeze and let go

And you ride, and you fly straight up and -- out
On a comet tail
And indescribably bright point of light
Soaring up -- through the veil
Where everything you touch and taste don’t
Turn to $*#! on a dare, and
The words don’t get tangled up in your cape
When you fall and you fail -- in midair

Cos’ you know there’s no cover anywhere
For people like you and me, my dear
There’s no one coming to the rescue
So you aim for the center mass
And you get to the clear

You get to the clear



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:42 PM
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She's Gone To Pieces

The universe is up for grabs -- she’s gone to pieces
Your baby-mama's got rock hard abs -- she’s gone to pieces
Just in time for a new cheap thrill? -- We’ve all gone to pieces
I can’t get hard without a little blue pill -- It’s all gone to pieces

But what she don’t know, won’t hurt her so
She covers up -- before she go go go


Black on her eyes, you know -- she’s gone to pieces
But when she comes it's a big dumb show -- we’ve all gone to pieces
“I’m game;” it’s her secret-name -- it’s all gone to pieces

But what she don’t know, won’t hurt her so
She covers up -- before she go go go



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:43 PM
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So Connected

Hey, HI, hello -- come in
The water’s fine, and -- we’re all friends, here
Here at the bottom of the pyramid
The all-seeing-eye of whore-us
Dollies in

And I’m ready for my close-up now cos’ I am so connected
And I’ve got to say my bits like I’m still self-directed

Ok now -- it’s cool; I’m glad you made it
Cos’ dying in your twenties is overrated
Here at the bottom of the petri-dish
Tiny tweaks make great big cha-cha-changes

And I’m ready for my close-up now cos’ I am so connected
And I’ve got to say my bits like I’m still self-directed
It’s just US against ourselves, and that means -- I can’t fall
And if I fall at all, I’ll -- just reject it

It only hurts when I look back in anger
And I reject that first, because -- it’s so played out
I only smile when I move forward without fear
Which happens every time -- you’re near

The whore of Babble-On and all her stupid friends
Will get what they’ve got coming -- in the end

I’m ready for my close-up now cos’ I am so connected
And I’ve got to say my bits like I’m still self-directed
It’s just US against ourselves, and that means -- I can’t fall
And if I fall at all, I’ll -- just reject it



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:44 PM
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Bubbleonnia Rising

Almost gone and lost myself in the rain
A knife-style without a $#@! in the game?
Me and you on a mission for the C-Y-A
“Outside ring of a Babble-On gate”
…Where the Bubbleonian’s move like Egyptians

I thought we could go home
But I kept getting stuck on your phone
Hey come on, you and me, we can go all the way
Bubbleonia -- What the $%#! ever

Now there’s a lot more of that where we came from
But yo -- you gotta have the stones to advance
You wind up upside-down at the bottom of a pile
With a thesaurus stuffed back down in yo pants

If I fell down all the way
I was looking for someone to SAVE
WOW -- Hypothetically speaking
Is Bubbleonia just another mind-game?

Samson took the on-ramp; highway to hell
Root # 666 all the way
We found his GTO idling at the airport motel
With Jayne Mansfield’s severed head
in a bag

Now I’ve never been one to stare
But she had clumps of grass and gum in her hair
You probably think that I care -- but I don’t
It’s a big dumb show
It’s a big dumb show
It’s a big dumb

Everybody sing and dance, yo!

I finally got down all the way
And now I’m dropped off and feeling no pain
Me and my big mouth dropped a mind-bomb on YO town
And now I’m bumming out because you’re gone and
I’ve got nothing to say



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:46 PM
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The Dead

The dead came looking for paradise
They were from everywhere, they came from nowhere
Now-here, nothingness
They were outlaws, soldiers, children born without souls
They were martyrs, pilgrims, settlers and homesteaders

They came from Hell to conquer a billion worlds
They came from Earth and they were refugees, desperate to
Escape Eden, Heaven, and -- God

And the dead could not be stopped
And the dead could not be destroyed
And the dead would not work
Because they were dead and they came only
For the free food and -- consolation prizes
You dig?

It was the last of the great exoduses; the biggest secret
No one ever bothered to keep, because
No one believed it anyway, man

And they prayed for the bombs to fall
They vowed to live and die by the gun, and the sword -- forever!
They were fugitives from justice, from the law
From natural law

And the dead knew the big secret
They were in on the plan
The Earth they told us was a prison
And death would not free us from its deadly
Kung-Fu grip

You and I were created to suffer because our suffering is the juice
That drives the engine and makes the machine “work”
You were born to die and be born again and
Die and -- be born again
Forever and ever, over and over -- AMEN

But what if the barrier could be destroyed somehow?
Could a vampire god trap a soul in a prison
Like grains of sand, slipping between its fingers
In a strong galactic wind?

True death, soul death, final death, freedom!
And the dead lined up to leave, as fast as they came in
Faster even
They were ready to penetrate the veil of Heaven
They were ready to pierce the mouth of night
They were ready to break-on-through
To go beyond “space” and -- into “time”
Which is really the same thing anyway, brother

The dead proclaimed themselves lords of their own creation
They were ready to never-be-reborn
They were ready to color -- outside the lines
And live forever
In a verse of their own making
By their own designs




posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:46 PM
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I Win

This road is mine
I’ve known its twists and turns
This flesh is mine to give
These words are mine to choose
Mundane or extraordinary
Each moment spent inside you is a gift
If I win

Into the perfect darkness came a light
And from the this light a brand new star was born
Reflected in the endless sea of night
The spark of every song sung here below
Shining in the aeons with no end
If I win

This heart is mine
I’ve known its twists and turns
This kiss is mine to give
These words are mine to choose
Mundane or extraordinary
Each moment spent beside you is a gift
If I win

Out here on the edge of life and death
The first thing that drives you on again is love
Love reaches across the stars like light
Crossing time and space in the blink of an eye
Spreading out across the skies tonight
A lust for life -- with you -- too strong to deny
No human force can tear this love apart
Fix your eye on a shooting star and it’s ours



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:47 PM
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Cautionary Tale

Last Friday night at the Higgs
There was a big dumb fight between a couple of kids
Some $%#! got said that probably never
should have been, and -- well
You know where that gets us, dontcha?

Meanwhile up around 5000 feet
In a geodesic dome at the end of the street
There was a coming out party for the
New Double-Speak;
Everybody said “PLEASE!” when they screwed ya

Now I don’t wanna tell ya that you’re doing it wrong
But there’s a real fine line between “playing along”
and getting it right, but -- thats
a cautionary tale

Now the last time I talked to my home-boy, Buddy
He was busting his $#@ trying to make that money
He had leveled up his soul-survivor RP
By pretending he knew how to do it

It’s the same kinda $#@! for me and my ol’ lady
We cover everything in $#@! and pretend that it’s gravy
But the sweetest meat comes where the fat touches bone
and you know that we’re both prone to chew it

So I ain’t talking out of my $%# when I say
That there’s a real good line of BS to be made
and IF you’re lapping it up? Well -- that’s
a cautionary tale

You know all that $%#@ they try to sell ya?
It’s bull
All they really want
is obedient tools



posted on Nov, 9 2012 @ 11:48 PM
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I Know Right

I like to know just what you are
Not that I care what you’re going through
I like to think that the distance between us is there for
a pretty good reason

But what you don’t understand is that EVERYTHING
is part of the plan
And you can either “let go,” and drop down out
of the FLOW or you can -- grab on
with BOTH hands and start squeezin’

I like to think there’s a greater good -- than
The one that we keep in our pockets
I’d like to know that there’s a reason we fight
and it doesn’t really matter what you call it

Your secret schools are all just “mystery meat;”
They’re all GRIST for the grill that I’m smokin’ on
Your precious secrets don’t mean nothing to me
They’re just TENDER for the fires that I’m stokin’ on

But what you don’t understand is that EVERY LITTLE THING
is only PART of the plan
You can either step into a suicide booth or you can
Grab on with both hands and stop teasin’

I know right
I said you know I know you know I know right

I like to know just what you are
Not that I care whatcha goin’ through
I like to think that the distance between us
is relative to TIME and DIMENSION

But what you don’t understand is that EVERYTHING YOU DREAM
is also part of the plan, and
You can either come clean and get reborn in a dream
or take a bubble-bath and stop all your screaming

I know right
I said you know I know you know I know right



posted on Nov, 10 2012 @ 01:26 AM
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I'm listening as I type, and I really, really like it. As a musician I usually try to stay away
from comparisons but The Cult comes to mind as I listen to this...for me that is a strong compliment

And I liked your post as well. We must think a lot alike.

So...as a frustrated lyricist with tons of music composed that I "la, la, la, la, la, le, de, da" to, have
.you got any extra lyrics laying around going to waste?



posted on Nov, 10 2012 @ 07:23 AM
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reply to post by rival
 


Thank you, Rival. Way back in the 80's, I listened to the Cult through Dreamtime, Love and their subsequent hard rock transformation with Electric, so I'll take the comparison, and the compliment.

After 1991 I went to work in corporate telecommunications, and stopped playing music and writing songs altogether. I didn't even really play guitar or sing outside an occasional Karaoke night for 20 years. The 9 songs here are frankly the 9 best, created over the last couple of years, out of close to 2 dozen. Most of the rest were just not up to par. I guess what I am trying to say is that the lyrics side of this is pure practice + a little bit of trial and error. Don't get discouraged and recognize that you will pull a lot of chaff to get to any wheat.



posted on Nov, 10 2012 @ 07:52 AM
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Originally posted by 0zzymand0s
reply to post by rival
 


Thank you, Rival. Way back in the 80's, I listened to the Cult through Dreamtime, Love and their subsequent hard rock transformation with Electric, so I'll take the comparison, and the compliment.

After 1991 I went to work in corporate telecommunications, and stopped playing music and writing songs altogether. I didn't even really play guitar or sing outside an occasional Karaoke night for 20 years. The 9 songs here are frankly the 9 best, created over the last couple of years, out of close to 2 dozen. Most of the rest were just not up to par. I guess what I am trying to say is that the lyrics side of this is pure practice + a little bit of trial and error. Don't get discouraged and recognize that you will pull a lot of chaff to get to any wheat.


I have about the same story as you. I got a "day job" around '92. The music gig was fun but was
strictly a Ramen Noodle existence and was putting a strain on my relationship. So I punched a
guitarist and went over the road.
Fifteen years later I finally have a local job and the time
to "refind" my talent.

But after 30 years (jeez has it been that long) of composing and noodling around on guitar and
keys, I've come to the conclusion that I just don't have the knack for lyrics--I'm too literal, there's
really no art to my words. Sometimes (when I have some music and melody) I will go search out
obscure Bob Dylan lyrics (or something like that) and just borrow them so I have something to sing


Anyway, really liked your stuff...and your lyrics are great...good luck
edit on 10-11-2012 by rival because: (no reason given)



posted on Nov, 10 2012 @ 02:27 PM
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reply to post by rival
 


Lyrics are a funny thing. I have been writing lyrics, poetry and stories since I was 8 years old, and believe me -- my first efforts were pretty awful. I remember the refrain from the first song I ever wrote, which was basically nonsense strung together. I also remember penning hundreds of parodies of other people's songs (Doodoo on my Shoe for "Turning Japanese" springs to mind). Hang in there and mix it up a bit with regard to straight narrative and sensory information. Don't be afraid to continue your present course, which is to mix and match lines from other famous songs (if I am reading you right). That's a favorite method from Bowie and many others, as is taking phrases and words from random news stories, books and other media, and drawing them from a bag or a hat, arranging them (mostly) as they fall.



posted on Dec, 31 2012 @ 11:20 AM
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I'm giving away 200 copies of my record, in multiple formats at

thechurchofentertainmenthedon...ndcamp.com...

Code: oscar

Happy new year!





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