ROCKS OFF - The Rolling Stones Message Board

Good night... sleep tide ;)
© Unkown Author but with thanks to Irina!

[THE WET PAGE] [IORR NEWS] [SETLISTS 1962-2003] [THE A/V ROOM] [THE ART GALLERY] [MICK JAGGER] [KEITHFUCIUS] [CHARLIE WATTS ] [RON WOOD] [BRIAN JONES] [MICK TAYLOR] [BILL WYMAN] [IAN STEWART ] [NICKY HOPKINS] [MERRY CLAYTON] [IAN 'MAC' McLAGAN] [BERNARD FOWLER] [LISA FISCHER] [DARRYL JONES] [BOBBY KEYS] [JAMES PHELGE] [CHUCK LEAVELL] [LINKS] [PHOTOS] [MAGAZINE COVERS] [MUSIC COVERS ] [JIMI HENDRIX] [BOOTLEGS] [TEMPLE] [GUESTBOOK] [ADMIN]

[CHAT ROOM aka THE FUN HOUSE] [RESTROOMS]

NEW: SEARCH ZONE:
Search for goods, you'll find the impossible collector's item!!!
Enter artist an start searching using "Power Search" (RECOMMENDED) inside.
Search for information in the wet page, the archives and this board:

PicoSearch
ROCKS OFF - The Rolling Stones Message Board
Register | Update Profile | F.A.Q. | Admin Control Panel

Topic: Show Us Yer Faces Redux Return to archive Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
21st May 2004 01:35 PM
didst thou seem
quote:
Nasty Habits wrote:
What's disturbing is that some people don't know that "Sail On" is a Commodores song.




Sorry - I'm confusing 70's maudlin dreck.


Still - I'd prefer imagining moonie singing along with Mr. Roboto!

21st May 2004 02:00 PM
Nasty Habits Maudlin?

The Commodores' dreck kicks ass.

Such hostility ringing from you these days. Smoke a joint, but on a copy of That's the Way of the World and chill out.

JB -- sanity prevailed and C10 wisely realized that once they looked at the various and sundry posters on my wall they would have nothing to do in Asheville. And then there was a Stones tour, which took care of all that.

Smoon -- wack or wiggidy wack?

21st May 2004 02:23 PM
didst thou seem Sheesh, someone's got to do it. The level has just been so pedestrian these days...


21st May 2004 02:27 PM
Bloozehound Rummy u thirsty ?
21st May 2004 02:29 PM
Nasty Habits What do you expect?!?

It's SPRING!!!

21st May 2004 02:30 PM
sirmoonie Its not about The Who, Bloozie. Its about the Eagles. Your transparent attempts to change the topic are opaque on their face.

The Eagles were 70s maudlin' dreck.
21st May 2004 02:36 PM
didst thou seem no...SPRUNG...



21st May 2004 03:56 PM
Bloozehound
quote:
sirmoonie wrote:
Its not about The Who, Bloozie. Its about the Eagles. Your transparent attempts to change the topic are opaque on their face.

The Eagles were 70s maudlin' dreck.



Sounds good moonie!

Damn it's hot outside.

Rummy come wash and wax my truck and I'll buy u a 6'er - but none of that expensive shit - I gotta gas up. Just a quicky wash but wax her good.
21st May 2004 04:22 PM
didst thou seem
quote:
Bloozehound wrote:


Sounds good moonie!

Damn it's hot outside.

Rummy come wash and wax my truck and I'll buy u a 6'er - but none of that expensive shit - I gotta gas up. Just a quicky wash but wax her good.



Your windows are filthy, but your mirrors seem intact.

I don't drink beer. Well - only with my German and Austrian friends. I suspect you are neither. Right? Only red wine but I am laying off because the project is almost completed.

So - how do you feel about pop image fetishes? I think I asked this last week but alas...no one answered...strange.




21st May 2004 04:22 PM
throbby Do you think Rummy enjoys waxing?
21st May 2004 04:41 PM
Bloozehound Rummy loves to wax it goood!

Come on Rummy ya know u wanna!
21st May 2004 04:52 PM
sirmoonie This here's a tale for all the fellas
Try to do what those ladies tell us
Get shot down cause you're over zealous
Play hard to get an females get jealous
Ok smartie, go to a party
Girls are stancin the crowd is showin body
A chick walks by you wish you could sex her
But you're standin on the wall like you was Poindexter
Next days function, high class luncheon
Food is served and you're stone cold munchin'
Music comes on, people start to dance
But then you ate so much you nearly split your pants
A girl starts walkin, guys start gawkin'
Sits down next to you and starts talkin'
Says she wanna dance cus she likes the groove
So come on fatso and just bust a move

You're on a mission and you're wishin'
someone could cure you're lonely condition
You're lookin for love in all the wrong places
Not fine girls just ugly faces
From frustration first inclination
Is to become a monk and leave the situation
But every dark tunnel has a lighter hope
So don't hang yourself with a celibate rope
New movie's showin... so you're goin
Could care less about the five you're blowin
Theatre gets dark just to start the show
When you spot a fine woman sittin in the front row
She's dressed in yellow, she says "Hello,
Come sit next to me you fine fellow"
You run over there without a second to loose
And what comes next, hey bust a move

If you want it baby you've got it (repeat)
Just bust a move

In the city ladies look pretty
Guys tell jokes so they can seem witty
Tell a funny joke just to get some play
Then you try to make a move and she says "no way"
Girls a fakin' ... goodness sakin'
They want a man who brings home the bacon
Got no money and you got no car
Then you got no woman and there you are
Some girls are sophistic... materialistic
Looking for a man makes them opportunistic
They're lyin on the beach perpetratin a tan
So that a brother with money can be their man
So on the beach you're strollin'... real high-rollin'
Everything you have is your's and not stolen
A girl runs up with somethin to prove
So don't just stand there, bust a move

(break down)

Your best friend Harry has a brother Larry
In five days from now he's gonna marry
He's hopin you can make it there if you can
'Cause in the ceremony you'll be the best man
You say "neato"... check your libido
And roll to the church in your new tuxedo
The bride walks down just to start the wedding
And there's one more girl you won't be getting
So you start thinkin, then you start blinkin
A bride maid looks and thinks that you're winkin
She thinks you're kinda cute so she winks back
And now you're feelin really fine cus the girl is stacked
Reception's jumpin, bass is pumpin
Look at the girl and your heart starts thumpin
Says she wants to dance to a different groove
Now you know what to do g, bust a move
21st May 2004 04:58 PM
Bloozehound Cum on feel the noiz
Girls rock your boys
We'll get wild, wild, wild
Wild, wild, wild

So you think I got an evil mind, I'll tell you honey
I don't know why
I don't know why
So you think my singing's out of time, it makes me money
I don't know why
I don't know why
Anymore
Oh no

Chorus:
So cum on feel the noiz
Girls rock your boys
We'll get wild, wild, wild
Wild, wild, wild
Cum on feel the noiz
Girls rock your boys
We'll get wild, wild, wild
And drunk!

So you say I've got a funny face, I got no worries
And I don't know why
I don't know why
Lord I've got to say it's no disgrace, I'm in no hurry
And I don't know why
I don't know why
Anymore
Oh no

Chorus

Well you think we have a lazy time, you should know better
I don't know why
I don't know why
So you say I got a dirty mind, I'm a mean go getter
I don't know why
I don't know why
Anymore
Oh no

Chorus

Cum on, feel it
Girls, rock it
We'll get wild, wild, wild (to fade
21st May 2004 05:00 PM
throbby ? wrote:

So - how do you feel about pop image fetishes? I think I asked this last week but alas...no one answered...strange.



Far be it for Rock and Roll to be about image or fetish.

When I go to a Stones show I always turn my back to the stage lest I be found worshiping the image.

Surely one of such profound intellect has outgrown the need for sensory pleasure.


...things are not what they seem, please sister morphine turn my nightmares into dreams...
21st May 2004 05:06 PM
Bloozehound Well I don't know where they come from
But they sure do come
I hope they comin' for me
And I don't know how they do it
But they sure do it good
I hope they doin' it for free

They give me cat scratch fever
Cat scratch fever

The first time that I got it
I was just ten years old
I got it from some kitty next foor
I went and see the Dr. and
He gave me the cure
I think I got it some more

They give me cat scratch fever
Cat scratch fever

It's nothin dangerous
I feel no pain
I've got to ch-ch-change
You know you got it when you're going insane
It makes a grown man cryin' cryin'
Won't you make my bed

I make the pussy purr with
The stroke of my hand
They know they gettin' it from me
They know just where to go
When they need their lovin man
They know I do it for free

They give me cat scratch fever
Cat scratch fever

21st May 2004 05:29 PM
Snappy McJack Here's one that fits the mood:
_______________________________________________


The Bad Touch Lyrics
Artist: The Bloodhound Gang



("Ha ha, well now! We call this the act of mating. But there are several
other very important differences between human beings and animals that you
should know about.")

(whisper: "I'd appreciate your input")

Sweat, baby, sweat, baby sex is a Texas drought me
and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about
So put your hands down my pants and I'll bet you'll feel nuts
Yes, I'm Siskel, yes I'm Ebert and you're getting two thumbs up
You've had enough of two-hand touch, you want it rough, you're out of bounds
I want to you smothered, want you covered, like my Waffle House hash browns
Come quicker than Fed Ex, never reaching apex like Coca-Cola stock you are
inclined to make me rise an hour early just like Daylight Savings Time

CHORUS:
(do it now)
You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
(do it again now)
You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
(gettin' horny now)

Love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket
Like the lost catacombs of Egypt, only God knows where we stuck it
Hieroglyphics? Let me be Pacific, I wanna be down in your South Seas
But I got this notion that the motion of your ocean, means "small craft
advisory"
So if I capsize in your thighs, high tide, B-5, you sunk my battle ship
Please turn me on, I'm Mr. Coffee with an automatic drip
So show me yours I'll show you mine "Tool Time", you'll Lovett just like
Lyle
And then we'll do it doggie style so we can both watch X-Files

(Chorus)
(repeat)
(repeat)

21st May 2004 05:53 PM
Bloozehound
quote:
Snappy McJack wrote:

Love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket
Like the lost catacombs of Egypt, only God knows where we stuck it
Hieroglyphics? Let me be Pacific, I wanna be down in your South Seas
But I got this notion that the motion of your ocean, means "small craft
advisory"
So if I capsize in your thighs, high tide, B-5, you sunk my battle ship
Please turn me on, I'm Mr. Coffee with an automatic drip
So show me yours I'll show you mine "Tool Time", you'll Lovett just like
Lyle
And then we'll do it doggie style so we can both watch X-Files





LMAO!

These gots to be the lyric's of the day
21st May 2004 05:57 PM
Nasty Habits
quote:
dandelion wrote

So - how do you feel about pop image fetishes? I think I asked this last week but alas...no one answered...strange.





I'm not quite sure what you mean by "pop images", but if you could elaborate I'd be glad to share my thoughts.

Off the top of my head though, I'd have to go with bloozehound on this one. Image is nothing. Thirst is everything.

Obey your thirst.






[Edited by Nasty Habits]
21st May 2004 06:10 PM
sirmoonie
quote:
throbby wrote:
Far be it for Rock and Roll to be about image or fetish.

When I go to a Stones show I always turn my back to the stage lest I be found worshiping the image.

Surely one of such profound intellect has outgrown the need for sensory pleasure.



Do your really do that, Throbby?

What does yins mean by pop image fetish?

Check it!

B. Bumble and the Stingers, Mott the Hoople, Ray Charles Singers
Lonnie Mack and twangin' Eddy, here's my ring we're goin' steady
Take it easy, take me higher, liar liar, house on fire
Locomotion, Poco, Passion, Deeper Purple, Satisfaction
Baby baby gotta gotta gimme gimme gettin' hotter
Sammy's cookin', Lesley Gore and Ritchie Valens, end of story
Mahavishnu, fujiyama, kama-sutra, rama-lama
Richard Perry, Spector, Barry, Rogers-Hart, Nilsson, Harry
Shimmy shimmy ko-ko bop and Fats is back and Finger Poppin'

Life is a rock but the radio rolled me
Gotta turn it up louder, so my DJ told me
Life is a rock but the radio rolled me
At the end of my rainbow lies a golden oldie

FM, AM, hits are clickin' while the clock is tock-a-tickin'
Friends and Romans, salutations, Brenda and the Tabulations
Carly Simon, I behold her, Rolling Stones and centerfoldin'
Johnny Cash and Johnny Rivers, can't stop now, I got the shivers
Mungo Jerry, Peter Peter Paul and Paul and Mary Mary
Dr. John the nightly tripper, Doris Day and Jack the Ripper
Gotta go Sir, gotta swelter, Leon Russell, Gimme Shelter
Miracles in smokey places, slide guitars and Fender basses
Mushroom omelet, Bonnie Bramlett, Wilson Pickett, stop and kick it

Life is a rock but the radio rolled me
Gotta turn it up louder, so my DJ told me
Life is a rock but the radio rolled me
At the end of my rainbow lies a golden oldie

Arthur Janov's primal screamin', Hawkins, Jay and Dale and Ronnie
Kukla, Fran and Norma Okla Denver, John and Osmond, Donny
JJ Cale and ZZ Top and LL Bean and De De Dinah
David Bowie, Steely Dan and sing me prouder, CC Rider
Edgar Winter, Joanie Sommers, Osmond Brothers, Johnny Thunders
Eric Clapton, pedal wah-wah, Stephen Foster, do-dah do-dah
Good Vibrations, Help Me Rhonda, Surfer Girl and Little Honda
Tighter, tighter, honey, honey, sugar, sugar, yummy, yummy
CBS and Warner Brothers, RCA and all the others

Life is a rock but the radio rolled me
Gotta turn it up louder, so my DJ told me
Life is a rock but the radio rolled me
At the end of my rainbow lies a golden oldie

Listen (remember) they're playing our song

Rock it, sock it, Alan Freed me, Murray Kaufman, try to leave me
Fish, and Swim, and Boston Monkey, Make it bad and play it funky

(Wanna take you higher!)


21st May 2004 06:31 PM
Nasty Habits Well I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
I love to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
When it lights up the sky
You know it makes me feel good

Well I love a rainy night
It's such a beautiful sight
I love to feel the rain
On my face
To taste the rain on my lips
In the moonlight shadow

CHORUS:
Wish I was washed
All my cares away
I'd wake up to a sunny day
'Cause I love a rainy night
Yes I love a rainy night
Well I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night

Well I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
I love to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
When it lights up the sky
You know it makes me feel good

Well I love a rainy night
It's such a beautiful sight
I love to feel the rain
On my face
To taste the rain on my lips
In the moonlight shadow

Puts a song
In this heart of mine
Puts a smile on my face every time

'Cause I love a rainy night
Yes I love a rainy night
Ooh I love a rainy night
Yeah I love a rainy night

21st May 2004 06:36 PM
didst thou seem What is happening here?
Something is going on
That's not quite clear
Somebody turn on the light
We're gonna have a party
It's starting tonight

Oh, what a feeling!
When we're dancing on he ceiling
The room is hot...that's good
some of my friends came
By from the neighbourhood
People were starting
To climb the walls
Ooh, it looks like everbody
Is having a ball

Everybody starts to lose control
When the music is right
If you see somebody hanging around
Don't ge upright
The only thing we wanna do tonight
Is go round and round
and turn upside down
Come on, let's get down

So come on, let's get loose
Don't hold back
Because it ain't no use
Hard to keep your feet on the ground
Because when we like to ball it
We only want to get down
what? You say what?
It's love now...
Just get started
Everybody clap your hands, come on
Everybody have sense...
21st May 2004 06:41 PM
caro Your mind and your experience call to me
You have lived and your intelligence is sexy
I want to know what you got to say (x3)
I can tell you taste like the sky cause you look like rain
You look like rain (x8)
You think like a whip on a horse's back
Stretched out to the limit you make it crack
Send that horse round and round the track
I want to know what you got to say (x3)
I can tell you taste like the sky cause you look like rain
You look like rain (x16)
Yea you look like rain
You look like rain

21st May 2004 06:44 PM
didst thou seem
quote:
Nasty Habits wrote:



I'm not quite sure what you mean by "pop images", but if you could elaborate I'd be glad to share my thoughts.

Off the top of my head though, I'd have to go with bloozehound on this one. Image is nothing. Thirst is everything.

Obey your thirst.






[Edited by Nasty Habits]




I somehow do not believe Throbby. Partially because he's so throbby.

As for the original context - I believe I was asking the gals. The question can be posed in my other contexts though.

Okay here's a couple - thirst is desire? What exactly do people want out of said object of this particular board?

What does one expect out of them - and why? What's with the needs seen expressed here - for instance - wanting them to once again make the music they have already made , being the performers they already were, etc...



21st May 2004 06:46 PM
Snappy McJack Artist: King Missile
Song: Detatchable Penis

Lyrics :

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover
And my penis was missing again.
This happens all the time.
It's detachable.

[background singing begins: "detachable penis" over and over]

This comes in handy a lot of the time.
I can leave it home, when I think it's gonna get me in trouble,
or I can rent it out, when I don't need it.
But now and then I go to a party, get drunk,
and the next morning I can't for the life of me
remember what I did with it.
First I looked around my apartment, and I couldn't find it.
So I called up the place where the party was,
they hadn't seen it either.
I asked them to check the medicine cabinet
'cause for some reason I leave it there sometimes
But not this time.
So I told them if it pops up to let me know.
I called a few people who were at the party,
but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate.
I really don't like being without my penis for too long.
It makes me feel like less of a man,
and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house,
and calling everyone I could think of,
I was starting to get very depressed,
so I went to the Kiev, and ate breakfast.
Then, as I walked down Second Avenue towards St. Mark's Place,
where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street,
I saw my penis lying on a blanket
next to a broken toaster oven.
Some guy was selling it.
I had to buy it off him.
He wanted twenty-two bucks, but I talked him down to seventeen.
I took it home, washed it off,
and put it back on. I was happy again. Complete.
People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached,
but I don't know.
Even though sometimes it's a pain in the ass,
I like having a detachable penis.

[background voices continue to sing "detachable penis" for
a while, then out]
21st May 2004 06:49 PM
Bloozehound I'm ever upper class high society
God's gift to ballroom notoriety
I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say I've got
The biggest balls of all

CHORUS:
I've got big balls
I've got big balls
And they're such big balls
Dirty big balls
And he's got big balls
And she's got big balls
But we've got the biggest balls of them all

And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody cums and cums again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says I've got
Great balls of fire

CHORUS

Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when they're held for pleasure
They're the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
It's my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night

CHORUS

And I'm just itching to tell you about them
Oh we had such wonderful fun
Seafood cocktail, crabs, crayfish...

Ball sucker

21st May 2004 06:55 PM
Snappy McJack Unite Lyrics
Artist(Band):Beastie Boys


Goin off the hook like Latrell Spreewell
I've got the ill technique so you know me fe well
We be kickin bass all up in your face
And when it comes to beats well I'm the rhythm ace
Now if you check my pulse it beats skull snaps
I keep all my rhymes in my Le Sportsac
So what if I'm a ham and cheese on rye
I got to do my thing and that's no lie
Well ice is cold and fire is hot
When it comes to competition we've got them locked
U.N.I.T.E.
A little shout to Ian and little Zoe
One can wonder why but can't deny
If we could work it out it would be so fly
We'll never know unless we try
So tell me party people what's your zodiac sign
Breakdancers of the world unite

BBoys of the world unite
I went inside the deli and my man's like what
I write the songs that make the whole world suck
I need to break it down every chance I get
So "Ssshhh we keep it raw on the set"
Automation circulation
This is for the people all around the nations
I got books with hooks and it looks like rain
Would someone on the Knicks please drive the lane
Now rhymes are montaquilla on a track by us
I've got to keep my mind clear so I don't bust
If you got bad breath then maybe try scope
And if you wash your ass you best use soap
People of the world you realize
We got to get together and harmonize
I feel I'm comin down with the bugallo flu
Ravers of the world unite

We're the scientists of sound
We're mathematically puttin' it down
When lightning strikes best grab a ground
Got to get up to get down

I've got the terminator style with a touch of the tweak
Technique 1200's I'm known to freak
I don't like to fight, I don't carry a piece
I wear permanent press so I'm always creased
Mike D with the rump shakin action
Do it like this for the intergalaction
I practice asana daily so I'm very flexible
I'm a Scorpio so you know I'm very sexual
Shouts to Rach and my brother Matthew
In money makin it's how we do
I be smokin roaches in the vestibule
In the next millennium I'll still be old school (Ron)
HIGH ROLLER BIG BALLER
I call em crullers but you know they're called CRAWLERS
We keep it movin to the broad daylight
BGirls of the world unite alright
Keep it on and on

21st May 2004 06:58 PM
didst thou seem Bloozehound - I think there are treatments for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
this stuff has been flogged around forever - but for the 101 crowd:


It is becoming very clear, in many different ways, the statement "art is dead" is true. This "art" I am limiting to painting and sculpture. I have denied it for a long time, but after some scrutiny I have begun to believe it is so. A statement of this sort is dependent on criteria. A living and dead state of art must be clarified to declare and believe something so unpleasant. In a brief definition, an art is the side effect of an attempt to manifest something. For example, if we were to fix a pretend first artist, his art works would not be attempts to make art. He would have other intentions. He may have been trying to represent the motions of the stars (a theory has been put forward this is the purpose of cave paintings) but he was not trying to make an art, as this is derivative of a prior art. If he is the first to do a thing he cannot be second. In other words, the pursuit of art today, to make art, must necessarily fail, as the purpose will forever shift away. If the first artist was unable to "manifest" stars in actuality on a wall, how much more skewed will a would-be artist trying to "manifest" art. Like playing telephone, derivation warps and transforms. A psychological test comes to mind of a dozen or so subjects asked, one after the other to draw what they see. The first subject drew an owl (the actual object) the next drew the picture of the owl; the third drew the picture of the picture, and so on. When the last person drew what they saw it had become a cat. When applied to art, and attempts to make art this indicates- though one may be attempting to make art, they cannot for it is missing the original intention, it will only and ever be derivative of an invisible purpose.

There is so much art out there, or so it is supposed. This is false. As far as painting and sculpture are concerned, there is nearly none. This is not determined by preference. I am not saying I do not like the paintings or sculpture presently; I like some and dislike others. I am saying the reason for these art pieces to exist is dead. For the art to be living (regardless of how many people partake in it) it has to have a core purpose. Artists have millions of reasons behind their work, and most of them involve making art, either as expression or message. But as I mentioned making art is already failed. What signals further failure is making art as still another thing, such as a message or expression. The art has evacuated the form.

A dead art form is one that is no longer effective. This applies directly to the artist. Let’s say an artist is looking to manifest some impossible form-a superman, or impossible animal. He can use whatever tools he can, not exclusive to a type such as paint or sculpture, but anything will work. Regimentation and tradition will not apply, as the intention is as yet unformed. When the intention becomes restrained by the demands of form it can thrive, but it must be understood it will be heading toward a dead end. Side effect arts resulting from the unachieved central intention will appear only so long as the thing remains unmanifest. When this art intention becomes confined by a form, the form itself has limitations that can exhaust. This termination of the form may occur before the protagonist idea is achieved. Art may have been achieved through paint, for example, but without the reason to color a thing into being, the paint becomes only a painting. The symptoms of the demise of the arts are genre, and “quotation.” (Sorry about the quotes around quotation.) The forms can carry on, and be very well executed but remain hollow. Repetition or a search for reason then ensues. This search for reason is based, generally, on the importance the form itself has taken. The materials of a dead art are considered valuable when the art is gone, as if in ritual remembrance or symbol.

An art can die truly, and an art can die in form. When an art truly dies, its purpose has been achieved. One of the reasons an art happens, is the artist is translating from a non-form to a form; imagination to reality. When the translation is complete it is unnecessary to continue, it would become ritual to do so. The artist is attempting to kill the form, very literally, to overcome the paint, stone, or whatever, and breathe life into his monster. This can take generations and ages, but will eventually occur, or it will be discovered the nature of the idea is flawed in origin. In either case, the idea ends. When its purpose has been achieved or has been found wanting, it does not necessarily find acceptance in populations who have come to venerate the tertiary idea: art.

Complications occur when art goes from the workings of one mind to other minds. The sharing of the triggers of art can be productive at the start, but may diminish. When its most effective and efficient, an art can be actively, even obsessively, created when a culture maintains its idioms. When a cult acts it produces culture, the results and ornaments of its veneration. These are close kin to art. When the culture is unintentional, the focus of the cult’s veneration remains the center of importance, without analysis, or deliberation. When the cult gains awareness of its structures and idioms is when the cult begins to die. Pecking orders and traditions will become prevalent but increasingly mysterious. The point of veneration is lost to simpler tasks and operations, like maintenance of forms. To change the form to painting, it would be a painter who has forgotten why he began a painting reflexively painting the same items again and again. A value is placed in the operation instead of the achievement. In our point on the graph, our point of veneration regarding art is lost to mystery, but maintain business value, social value, and value in vanity.

Like the lost art of memory, also called artificial memory, the forms of art are dead-ended. Artificial memory fell out of use when books became plentiful in the Renaissance. The purpose of the art was negated. One didn’t need to build techniques and imaginative, ordered, creations by which they warehouse memory. They had books in plenty, an external memory larger than the natural or artificial memory could achieve. The purpose was accomplished. This is not as easy as it sounds. Artificial memory is tied to and was the reason behind many strange things. It had a greater expansion than simply a memory tool. Its “arts”, its side effects, were Dante’s Divine Comedy, the “books in stone” of Chartres and Notre Dame cathedrals, allegories, alchemical philosophy, cant, rules of composition (as laid out by Giotto and others and have since become instilled in the way we look at things-in any sense), fantasy images (memory images were amalgams of novel attribute images, our misunderstanding of which has led to monsters and demons), etc. The above list shows, in fact the art is not dead, but has changed forms. Architecture, literature, and others have become the unintentional but potent carriers. It has taken on new bodies, with the continuous intention of the art of memory. The “artificial memory”, title became venerated and adored, but it was dead, the thing behind it did not die.

When I write painting and sculpture have died, I do not mean the thing behind them has ceased. Unlike the art of memory, however, these two have hit a point of disease that threatens the thing behind them. People do not see them. The nature of a gallery, museum, art magazine, or other epitaph, are diminishing these arts, and proclaiming the king is dead. Like Lenin, Mao, Ho Chi Min, or other dead men on display, the above forms of art media carry on the most morbid and horrible concepts of art. The obedience to business, and critical demands, as well as creating intellectual bridges to the ignorant, has demonstrated the points of veneration of galleries, museums, and art publications. Self interest. These forms are deleterious to art, as well as the continuum, of its central intention. These things are culture destroyers. Not in an iconoclastic sense, but in the sense of beggar kings. When art is taught, it is taught by form, not intention. Children are educated to respond with awe to paintings and sculpture, and admittedly many pieces would provoke this response without the command to be awed. But once they have wondered over the masterful techniques, they are shoved on instead of being taught the painting technique has been mastered to the extent it has to creating something else. Paintings become objects of personality cults, but not effective as epiphany. So the paintings fail. What shows this cancer most clearly is the reference to dead painters and old masters, instead of assuming the present painters and sculptors have the throne, it is assumed the art prophets are past and yet to come Messiahs. This is very dangerous. It is a silent confession that these arts at present are dead and will be resurrected. Modern art has responded to this (as has all of its children including Post Modernism, and Post Post Modernism) by turning to ironies, scandals and extremity, each movement of which claims to be the new art Anti-Christ (the reaction to the traditional expected Messiah.) Conceptual art has even started to become an adored form, but not of art, of non art (which in most cases tends to be very simple or even poor literature written on novel surfaces.) This extraordinary shallow, surface, trends do not mark them as arts, but entirely different motivations under the name of art. Business and vanity (which business often feeds upon.) Admittedly they are side effects, but not of the unmanifest, they are side effects of greed, and advantage. Things that are present but coveted.

The name of art is lost both in its intention, and side effects. When art periodicals, books and articles appear, they do not offer help in the idioms of art, nor do they offer information. They are usually updates on how business is going and how to turn art forms into business. They are flattering, self-congratulatory, romantic, excited, and pretentious, but never to any good point. Even on those rare occasions when a piece is written by skillful technicians, it is irreverent to art (or those things that cause it), and very relevant to business and marketing. Marketing, of course, being the science of pointing out and making opportunity of social weaknesses and doubts (whether this science is good or not I cannot say, I can say it is bad in reference to art.) Artists are equally at fault as they have become beggars to the market place or are simply very highly skilled fans of art forms without the central intention.

To continue would make a very long letter, longer and confused. But I would like to relate an incident before I close that may indicate something of what I have been attempting to call to your attention. I was at a restaurant where a mural was in progress on one of the walls. The painting was of sirens on a beach calling a ship to shore. The artist was present and working. Two of the restaurant patrons, were getting up to leave when on pointed to the mural. He said, “Whoa, check it out.” His friend looked, his eyes widened and he said, “Damn, I’m here all the time! When did he do that?” The painting had been in progress for 8 months. They didn’t see the painting until activity led them to see it. They lost the eyes to see without directions. A living art form, a vital art form, like a movie, is not so casually ignored. The potentials for paint and sculpture are not diminishing, why one would paint or sculpt, in the traditional sense, are.

Art, in all its forms is losing its way, and the structures of our civilization, our culture, are becoming unstable. The thing of which art is a branch is a more subtle and necessary thing than is supposed. In many ways it underlies the individual identities we claim. As we become as formed but hollow, as our arts, we lose all those things most vital. The death of intentions, but the survival of form is to become a zombie; it is to be the tool for the black arts, business and politics.

So how is art dead? When the things that initiate art, though ever recurring, are systematically, and deceptively snuffed out, their evidences and potency are brought to an end. The triggers of art are a continuum, as opposed to derivation. If that continuum is stopped (though other things parade under the same name) it is death. For though much of the world is the same, and the physics of the world appears stable, we are far beyond whatever environment and circumstance allowed the first artist, if his long continuous mind stops, we will have met our limit.

21st May 2004 07:15 PM
Snappy McJack
quote:
Bloozehound wrote:
I'm ever upper class high society
God's gift to ballroom notoriety
I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say I've got
The biggest balls of all

CHORUS:
I've got big balls
I've got big balls
And they're such big balls
Dirty big balls
And he's got big balls
And she's got big balls
But we've got the biggest balls of them all

And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody cums and cums again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says I've got
Great balls of fire

CHORUS

Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when they're held for pleasure
They're the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
It's my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night

CHORUS

And I'm just itching to tell you about them
Oh we had such wonderful fun
Seafood cocktail, crabs, crayfish...

Ball sucker






21st May 2004 07:15 PM
Bloozehound Rummy....TGIF

____________________________________


I'm Not DrunK (I'm Just Drinkin')
-- Albert Collins


Every day, baby
When the sun go down
I get with my friends
And I begin to drown
I don't care
What the people are thinkin'
I ain't drunk
I'm just drinkin'

(But you're so high) Oh man, you know I ain't high
(But you're so high) I just take a little bit every now and then
(But you're so high) Aw man you oughta be ...
(Stay drunk all the time) Aw c'mon, don't y'all be like that

Come home last night
All a lush
Baby get in a fuss
I say, "Honey, hush"
I don't care
What the people are thinkin'
I ain't drunk
I'm just drinkin'

(But you're so high) Aw, I ain't drunk, I done told y'all I ain't drunk
(But you're so high) I'm just havin' fun
(But you're so high) What? ....
(Stay drunk all the time) I don't know why y'all talkin 'bout me like that

You done the right thing
I wanna thank you too
Now let's have a little drink
Just me and you
I don't care
What the people are thinkin'
I ain't drunk
I'm just drinkin'

(But you're so high) Who me? I ain't high, man.
(But you're so high) I don't know why y'all are talkin' 'bout me like that
(But you're so high) You better mind your own business, brother
(Stay drunk all the time) You gotta watch yourself, too, you understand what I'm sayin'?

I wanna tip you baby
Before I go
I'll be back tomorrow night
And drink some more
I don't care
What the people are thinkin'
I ain't drunk
I'm just drinkin'

(But you're so high) Oh, no, you're the one who's drunk; look at your eyes, man
(But you're so high) Don't you pee on my leg, man...well, I ain't had but
(But you're so high) four...five...six...
(Stay drunk all the time) eight...nine...ten...

21st May 2004 07:17 PM
Bloozehound
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12