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The Public Shouldn’t Respect Celebrity, Celebrity Should Respect The Public
The Public Shouldn’t Respect Celebrity, Celebrity Should Respect The PublicThe Public Shouldn’t Respect Celebrity, Celebrity Should Respect The PublicThe Public Shouldn’t Respect Celebrity, Celebrity Should Respect The PublicThe Public Shouldn’t Respect Celebrity, Celebrity Should Respect The Public
Feeling a little … primal today. Probably because I get to go to court. No, I didn’t get into trouble again. Nah, a friend of mine got into a some minor ‘disagreement’ with the popo so I’m going as consigliere. Still, courts make me feel VERY uncomfortable.
So I’ve been listening to the above song since I got home. You might be familiar with the version that Paul Revere and The Raiders did. Well John D. Loudermilk wrote the original. Good shit, if you ask me.
Feeling goofy as shit right now. Oh I’m drinking but that’s not it. Went to a meeting (reason is pointless - as are most meetings) and realized I hadn’t heard “Synchronicity I” in ages. Leave the meeting and on my way home, the ‘classic rock’ station inexplicably plays “Synchronicity I” (never heard it on the radio even when it came out - I had the vinyl). Anyway, just weird.
I familiar with the theory and while I don’t necessarily believe all of what it entails I do believe that one can see logic in the big picture. As I have gotten older I realize now that (from a human standpoint), chaos is just a form of order that we can’t see. Really. Take - oh - a bowl of popcorn. Randomly placed right? Well, yea from that standpoint yet the bowl itself creates order out of the individual pieces - you just need to take a step back.
So does chaos exist? Yeah, but only in the sense that we can’t make sense of it. Kinda like magic is simply a form of science we can’t understand.
Ok, I’ve bent my brain enough - I’m going to get another beer. You all can enjoy the double shot of The Police: “Synchronicity I” and “King Of Pain” (another personal favorite).
It’s a strange day here at ChaozCentral. Mainly because it’s a good day/night. I’m sitting outside in backyard with the chimnea (outdoor chimney) burning nice. Not much warmth, but its cool and not cold. Drinking a beer.
Worked the morning shift today - now I wonder why I stopped doing it. Day’s too nice. Here we get what is called “The January Thaw”. After getting slammed with cold fronts, we always seem to get a ‘lull’ and temperatures crawl up to the high 70’s for a couple of weeks in January. Thought I’d enjoy it and blog for now. Eventually, it’s gonna get colder and I’ll have to go back inside.
But for now? It’s as close to ‘perfect’ as I can define it.
I was gonna post another song (”It’s Gonna Be A Good Night”) but that’s a lame song in the end. Nah, something more chilled was in order. Hence this song.
Now if you don’t mind - I’m gonna enjoy the dusk for a bit before I have to head in.
Sometimes I don’t realize what a song is actually saying/singing till I bother to check the lyrics. Good example is this song. For example, ‘Dare’ while the title is NOT what he’s saying. He’s actually saying ‘There’ (but his accent is thick so it sounds like ‘Dare’). Anyway, I took the liberty of ‘correcting’ the lyrics.
Suddenly its a lot nastier song. Plus, the Junior Sanchez remix helps in this. Enjoy.
It’s coming up(x6)
It’s There
It’s There
(oooh)
You’ve got to press It on you
You just think It,
That’s what you do, baby!
Hold It down, There.
Jump with them all,
And move It,
Jump back and forth
It feels like you were There yourself,
Work It out.
(oooh)
Never did no harm(2x)
It’s There
It’s coming up(x5)
It’s There
You’ve got to press It on you
You just think It,
That’s what you do, baby!
Hold it down, There.
Jump with them all,
And move It,
Jump back and forth
It feels like you were There yourself,
Work It out.
Never did no harm(2x)
It’s There
It’s coming up(x5)
It’s There
You’ve got to press It on you
You just think It,
That’s what you do, baby!
Hold It down, There.
Jump with them all,
And move It,
Jump back and forth
It feels like you were There yourself,
Work It out.
Never did no harm(2x)
It’s there
It’s coming up(x5)
It’s there
You’ve got to press It on you.
You just to think It.
That’s what you do, baby.
Hold It down, There.
Jump with them all,
And move It,
Jump back and forth
It feels like you were There yourself,
Work It out.
You’ve got to press It on you.
You just to think it.
That’s what you do, baby.
Hold It down, There.
Jump with them all,
And move It,
Jump back and forth
It feels like you were There yourself,
Work It out.
I don’t want you, to give it all up
And leave your own life, collecting dust
And I don’t want you, to feel sorry for me
You never gave us, a chance to be
And I don’t need you, to be by my side
To tell me, that everything’s alright
I just wanted you, to tell me the truth
You know I’d do that for you
[Chorus]
So why are you running away?
Why are you running away?
Cause I did enough, to show you that I
Was willing to give, and sacrifice
And I was the one, who was lifting you up
When you thought your life had had enough
And when I get close, you turn away
There’s nothing that I can do or say
So now I need you, to tell me the truth
You know I’d do that for you
[Chorus]
So why are you running away?
Why are you running away?
Is it me, is it you? (is it me, is it you)
Nothing that, I can do (nothing that, I can do)
To make you, change your mind (to make you)
Is it me, is it you? (so why do - you run - away)
Nothing that, I can do (won’t you tell me)
Is it a, waste of time? (why do - you run - away)
Is it me, is it you?
Nothing that, I can do
To make you, change your mind - no
[Chorus]
So why are you running away?
Why are you running away? (what is it, I have to say)
[Chorus] So why are you running away? (to make you admit, you’re afraid) Why are you running away?
I have deliberately changed the lyrics ever SO slightly on this song. Honestly, I doubt you’ll figure out where (without actually searching for the lyrics). I think my version works better - but that’s me.
Lay where you’re laying, don’t make a sound
I know they’re watching, they’re watching
All the commotion, the kitty like play
Has people talking, talking
You, your sex is on fire
The dark of the alley, the breaking of day
Head while I’m driving, I’m driving
Soft lips are open, my knuckles are pale
Feels like you’re dying, you’re dying
You, your sex is on fire
Consumed with what’s to transpire
Hot as a fever, rattling bones
I could just taste it, taste it
It’s not forever, It’s just tonight
Oh, it’s still the greatest, the greatest, the greatest
You, your sex is on fire
And you, your sex is on fire
Consumed with what’s to transpire
And you, your sex is on fire Consumed with what’s to transpire
By the way … not that anyone asked … … … ‘head while you’re driving’ does feel like you’re dying - especially when you’re buzzed and trying desperately to ‘finish’ before hitting the off-ramp. If ya know what I mean.
I hate this song with all my heart because the damn song makes my eyes tear up whenever I hear it. It’s easily the most depressing song of Christmas of all time.
Fortunately, Patton Oswalt destroys this song the way it deserves to be.
If you DON’T know about this song I post this link only for ‘edumacational purposes’.
It’s 4:53am and I’m sleepy. Maybe I’ll go with the other 4 women remaining some other time. Or not. #11 did give me something though. The reality of hope, ironically. She made me realize that my own goofiness was a positive thing and not a negative. While she ultimately went another way she was kind enough to remind of that. … … If find it interesting that my last post of the night is hers. She wasn’t the most influential, she wasn’t the most attractive, she wasn’t the most … well anything really. She just was. Like I ‘was’. This was (at the time) her favorite song.
…
Somehow I can’t think of a better way to end my extended festival than with this.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ‘99 ‘09,
Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term
benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis or
reliable then my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice….now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, nevermind, you won’t understand the power and
beauty of your youth until they’ve faded, but trust me in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of
yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous
you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra
equation by chewing bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind: the kind that blindsides
you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts; don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is
long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive; forget the insults. (if you succeed in doing this, tell me how).
Keep your old love letters; throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people
I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of Calcium. Be kind to your knees — you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll
divorce at 40; maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.
Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half
chance, so are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body: use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or what other people think of it; it’s the
greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance…even if you have no where to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions (even if you don’t follow them).
Do not read beauty magazines; they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents; you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings: they’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in
the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but what a precious few should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps
and geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you
were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old; and when you
do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children
respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse,
but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you are 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia;
dispensing it is a way of wishing the past from the disposal–wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and
recycling it for more than it’s worth.
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