jpaulgorman

Flash it back to 1999.  Take it from Prince, back when he went by Prince.  "If you didn't come to party, don't bother knocking at my door."  Shake it, go for the splits, fly into a raging guitar solo, demolish the fret board.  But don't ruin your hips, take care of your hips, keep your hips loose.  Get the knots out.  The sad of the world can be sad if they want to, or have to.  It's sad.  Sad as hell.  Sad is all around, sad this, sad that.  Sad 'til midnight, sad 'til dawn, sad 'til we're all dead and gone. The groans and moans of humans, hear it in the distance, it will fade away to nothing.  Dig the seasons of our lives.  Dig in, our time is now, and the days after now.  America ain't gone for good, keep it real.  Keep it loose and hippy.

Close it up again, shutter.  Wrap this year in Saran Wrap, pull it tight.  The air might getcha.  Don't let the air getcha.  Getcha, getcha, getcha.   The boogieman bums are back.  Amatuers of the lowest order, the gutter league, the small timers.  Let them clock stare, let them tick their tock alone. They can count it down by themselves.  From ten to one. The ball fools.  Resolution whacks, the turn leaf liars, the wave chasers.  Spin.  Go dizzy in the new year, go around again.  Spin.

  Down with Delta, it's Delta down. Find your soul in their lost and found. Their planes seem stinky and full of scuzz. Dumping them forever, just because... Hell, they don't care. Heck, they're not fair. Messed with my children. Oh, don't you dare. So I'm down on Delta, take Delta down. Hear that knocking, that grudgy sound. Gonna leave a review, no need to be rude. One star of 5, good for my grudgy mood. EAAE DEx2.ADE

Sense of something common, it's freezing in here.  Same revolution.  It just goes and goes, ripping back our freedom and dignity, turning it up to 11.  Make 'em quit like the Brits.  We don't want your empire. Fluctuate and position, scheme and strategize, blame the game, dish the pain.  Assume too much, fill in the blanks with delusions.  Chew on it.  Nothing will make it taste better.  Days are numbered, we are in the double digits now. The color of thin clouds at dawn.  Fluorescent.  Moving northeast, clearing out.  Bright days ahead.  Lizzy tunes about jailbreaks.

Forget the leaves, the turning is done.  Now is the time for the rakes.  Bag these old, crispy, red oakers.  Get the damn acorns too.  Shade will return in spring, the light winter is here getting ready for the birth. Word is out.  Maybe has been upgraded to probably with doubt running for the back door.  When the house lights blaze, the gig is over.  Time to get.  Time to get going. Shambles are fine, all our broken ways.  We'll stay afloat, somehow, someway.  Like always, so far.  The gone know more than the present.  Missing someone on the roll call this morning.

  February 1, think we're all done. We'll have our say with election returns. Ain't reading your signs no more. Done, we're done, we're all just bored. EEAE EEDE X2.

  Say hello to Grandma, say hello to Ole Fitz too. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. Tell 'em 'bout the Turkey Bowl, tell 'em 'bout the fishing holes. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. Times we went down to the wire, times our pants caught on fire. Times we threw it up for grabs, times we drove 'em mad. Times we felt the hands of God, times we knew we all got robbed. The times don't always act like we want 'em to. Sure you'll have a smile on your face, smirking like you knew 'bout grace. How's it feel to have your sins washed clean for good? Maybe the Cowboys'll make a run, prolly not the refs are bums. Guess it'll all be just as it should. Say hello to Grandma, say hello to Ole Fitz too. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. Tell 'em 'bout the Turkey Bowl, tell 'em 'bout the fishing holes. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. GC/GD/GC/GDG

The bribes were a pleasure to take, so fly and new, so hidden and unknown.  The things, the places, the glory.  Spend it like a freebird, fast and flashy.  Signal the next benefactors, squirm up more green lettuce, more green backs, more green juice.  The fun part. Then the cooking starts.  Butter first, to grease the pan, to coat the food, to make it savory.  Next, the meat, marinaded and trimmed, turned once.  Mushrooms and onions added, simmered down, sautéed.  More butter. Seasoned with salt and pepper, the knife and fork are ready to devour the delicious.  But first, some blackmail gravy on top, it's just how the dish is served.  Ignore the sour, bitter taste.  Pay no attention to the runny, lumpy, gooey substance ruining the food.  The bribed will eat it anyway.

Keep the pressure on, take it to the end. Condition, condition, condition.  For the seasons ahead.  This is normal now.  We have slipped, the slope does not forgive. Do less, be less, have less, want less.  More is not better anymore, more is worse, more is immoral, evidently.  Abundance is awful to the scummy moral tyrants, wrapping themselves in false righteousness.  They cannot withstand light, they will end.  Walking dust. Tune it out, go retro digital.  Like the punks, stick it to the robots.  Make them work it, make them pop it, make them do the human dance.  The moonwalks and spinners, the ballrooms and bordellos, the discos and studios, the cardios and radios.  They are artificial.

  It all seems nonsense.  Almost all, but even if you see it or hear or read it, it might not have occurred, or might have.  Like nonsense, chasing tails, our own and others.  Say what and when and why and how.  And where. These podium pill pushers are on mute now, their moose is running in sticky globs down their sunken cheeks.  They are yanker suckers, in the literal and figurative.  They are skeltons of cold meat, they have cold blood, cold brains, cold shoulders, cold souls.  Let them sulk in global warming, let them melt slowly, warm up the electric heat lamps, loosen up the tundra.  Let's play in the mud. All the while, the people party keeps the party alive.  Living, laughing, learning, loving, they know it's a scam, and a sham, and a shame, they're just trying to make it through.  Nothing wrong with that, time is clicking and ticking and tocking and clocking.  Hope and worry is pointless.  Shouting '22, '22, all ...

Must go away for 40 days. Find my mind in the desert haze. Raise the glass of gratitude. Thank you thank you thank you too. Now I'm gone on my own way. Finish this up with some final pay. Clear my head and clear my mood. Decide my reasons and speak the truth. One day a ways away from here. When my mind and my moods are cleared. I'll find the answer that I'm looking for. Prolly come walking through an open door. Must go away for 40 days. Find my mind in the desert haze. Raise the glass of gratitude. Thank you thank you thank you too. GGDG CCGC GGDC GCDG

The minions took another cannonball, but nothing important got hit.  The high road has so many advantages.  Cruise on through.  Make a peace sign, victory and death.  Real adults are usually distracted by dollars and cents. Take it to the end, keep showing up, til you show up no longer.  Levity cannot be measured, only felt.  No canned laughter, that's gone on long enough.  Bust your side, wheeze, lose your breath, cackle out loud, snort.  Hysterical and long, don't stop, can't stop. There are other things, different angles, alternative options, greener pastures.  Opinions come in all forms, most are ruined by thinking.  Pointless conclusions of minor importance, of minor consequence.  Take it like a human, man!  Bleed.

That one came in hot, low cool, a myth buster.  Someone gets a pat on the back for ruthlessness.  Admirable, in a way.  Regardless of behavioral class, despite the awkwardness, when want and can collide.  It is what it is, and isn't what it isn't too. Social studies of predetermined ethics and lack of evolution.  Decay of humanity, the dwindling of character, the loss of trust.  It's not needed anymore, it's definitely not wanted.  Drift away, catch the audio waves, the ocean waves, the love waves, in Hi-Fi. In some stereo. Keep it level, keep it steady, 'til the harbour is cleared.  'Til we get past the bay.  Figure out will arrive, be tuned, be open.  Create habits and systems and processes.  Peticulate, obsess.   

No need for looking, or talking.  Or even hearing.  We can all do that later in our other world.  Made to order, the goggles are financed like cars.  You pay for what you get, six sense versions are six figures minimum. Other world real estate, everyone wants a plot, lots of rentals.  Eat the Gatesloaf or the Zuckmuck, tastes like filet mignon, sitting in a snazzy rooftop restaurant.  Some live music in the corner, perhaps Sade tonight.  10 bucks an hour.  Digital odor circuits, everything smells perfect, hints of every season and spice. Worlds should balance out, the other and the real.  Synchronized, integrated, leveraged, your life should be enhanced.  One day we'll have an eternity pill, you won't actually live forever, it will just seem that way.  A mind trick is all, a program.  Angels of scientific fiction.

  CF That's right he said he was techno king. Made it official and everything. Said he didn't need to be no Chief. That's a made up thing, means nothing. Take your shares, make em all cash. Keep em away from your crypto stash. Building his place in the Texas heart. Near Austin where the armadillos are. CAmx3 FC Techno King on the mic. Wizard of the techno night. Go to the moon, hell, go to Mars. We'll all be driving those electric cars. Government built on debt and grease. Got nothing to win by keeping the peace. Stir up the people, get em all mad. Fighting each other while the bribes are passed.

  For the communal good, he raised his voice as he said it.  His nose was up in the air, he was looking down on the screen, he glowed dim white, he sqeaked.  Beagles moaned low everywhere, they knew of his previous communal good declarations.  They lost some family members, they lost some blood.  Everybody in the dog houses knew what communal good meant, that's what the midnight howls are all about. For the communal good, send away the dirty, even though they are pure.  Punish the defiant, even though they are right.  Tell us X, as we look at Y.  Lie to our faces.  What goes up will come down. In a heap of a pile of a stack of trash.  Where it belongs, in the landfill of history.  Keep the oceans clean, leave the water to the future, love the ice, ban all billboards.  Reject the community thieves.  They'll do anything for a bag of bitcoins.

G.C.G.D/d7 We don't think about you. We don't read about you. We don't really care much anymore. Nothing you could tell me. Nothing you could feed me. Why you even care about me for? CG/g7x3 DCG Already paved our way. Always and forever, babe. The door's never closed, it's never closed. It's never closed. We're no longer hungry. We're no longer funny. Our screens are full of serious bores. Sick of all the shout outs. Sick of all the blackouts. Smashing and grabbing all the stores.

Times, they are a'rearranging.  Flip the chip.  Put the fools on display, let them mutter and stutter, hear them lie.  That's what the razor wire is for, keep the stand ups out, keep them away.  No question. Behind the fortress, a babbling mess.  Bribes and payoffs and blackmail, this cannot get out, you see.  The payers, the takers, the cover uppers.  Buy the news if you want, but they've already been bought.  It's not a business anymore, never really was. Put the writers through the muffin, find the poppy seeds and the nuts.  The scammers and scoundrels, the artificial flavors.  Lick the frosting, spit it out, peel the wrapper off.  Bite into the blueberries, the truth, the delicious truth.  Straight from the lumpy batter.

The dupee crowd couldn't understand, they are forever duped.  Lost in translations, lost in pride, lost forever.  Evil takes it to the max while it can.  No going back, no changing that mind, it will die along with that attached body, dust to dust.  Maybe that soul will move on, unknowable, maybe that soul will burn. Listen up, this is 3rd grade now, gotta step up our Cootie game, recess is coming fast this afternoon.  No more 2nd grade giggling, no more outbursts of sissy woe, they're coming after you, they will not smile this year.  We're off to a solid start, our greek has improved, but we still need to fill in some blanks.  Look each other in the eyes, know that backs are got, know that it's impossible to defeat gotten backs.  We are reflecting our sense of common dignity. Best method of discarding this madness is ignoring techniques, determine it a figment of imagination, do not engage the enemy with any of the five main senses.  Smell ...