Monday, April 15, 2013

Mindless Monday

  • The title of the post was chosen before news broke of the horrific terrorism at the Boston Marathon.
  • On reflection, it seemed apt.
  • This post may contain some Henley-isms.  If you're not into that, or if you have a Henley allergy - you might wanna bail now.
  • Prior to the Boston tragedy, this morning's chatter revealed that Justin Bieber hoped that had Anne Frank been alive, she would've been a fan, and so inscribed the guest book in the Anne Frank museum.  
  • Henley, 'quoting' Lucifer in The Garden Of Allah
And I said, 'Gentleman....and I use that word loosely...
I'm a gun for hire, I'm a saint, I'm a liar
Because there are no facts, there is no truth
Just a data to be manipulated.
I can get any result you like -
What's it worth to ya? 
Because there is no wrong, there is no right 
And I sleep very well at night.
No shame, no solution
No remorse, no retribution
Just people selling T-shirts
Just opportunity to participate in the pathetic little circus
And winning, winning, winning.¹
  • In the preceding passage, the Devil is a lawyer. Isn't that type-casting? 
  • Elsewhere today I read where my body double, Corbin Bernsen (perhaps I embellish a little a lot), says he'd rather talk about God than Lindsay Lohan. You and me both, brother! 

  • Would that we could somehow wean ourselves from endless fascination with celebrities. Also from The Garden... but from the narrator's voice: 
This year, notoriety got all confused with fame 
And the devil is downhearted 
Because there's nothing left for him to claim .¹
  • At the time the song was written, Henley was [likely] referencing the Orenthal James trial circus, but the concept, and the song, remain/s [the same]. 
  • I watched the CBS Evening News earlier, then left the TV on in the den. Now it's playing Two Broke Girls, a non-stop celebration of trash talk one-liners. I've never had one, so maybe I lack perspective, but I can't imagine STDs really being that amusing. 
  • My oldest son texted me this afternoon: "What's up with everyone blowing *stuff* up?" 
  • I don't know. Nobody knows.
    And the fruit is rotten 
    The serpent's eyes shine 
    As he wraps around the vine 
    In the Garden of Allah. ¹

  • Whether your kids are all grown up or still in diapers, you'd like to be able to tell them everything will be alright, even though it's been a jacked-up world since Genesis 3 (the Bible chapter, not Banks/Collins/Rutherford's band).
  • From They're Not Here, They're Not Coming (where 'they're' refers to aliens), excerpts:
    To this Garden we were given
    And always took for granted
    Well it's like my Daddy told me -
    You just bloom where you're planted.
    Now you long to be delivered
    From this world of pain and strife
    That's a sorry substitution for a spiritual life.
    No authenticity, no sign of soul
    The radio won't play George and Merle.
    They're not here, they're not coming
    Not in a million years
    'Til we put away our hatred
    And lay aside our fears
    You may see the heavens flashing
    You may hear the cosmos humming
    But I promise you, my brother
    They're not here, they're not coming.²
  • I can't say I've never Ducked my Destiny in the past, but I'm trying to be mindful of Job, to remember whence all good gifts come:
Now the trouble with you and me, my friend 
Is the trouble with this nation
Too many blessings, too little appreciation.
And I know that kind of notion - well, it just ain't cool
So send me back to Sunday school.
Because I'm tired of waiting for reason to arrive.
It's too long we've been living
These unexamined lives. ³
  • Daughter and I put a birdhouse the boys built years ago in Scouts on a t-post a couple of months back - she furnished it with leaves and grass to make it all homey and stuff. 
  • Hopefully the cat's not in this cradle:
Easter Weekend - Momma on eggs

One weekend ago


  • And, as of this morning, they'd all left the nest and taken flight.
  • Blessed are the feet of the messengers, and the children:

Turn your hopes back homeward 
Hold your children, dry their tears.²

¹ The Garden of Allah - Don Henley, Stan Lynch, John Corey, Paul Gurian
² They're Not Here, They're Not Coming - Henley, Lynch
³ My Thanksgiving - Henley, Lynch, Jai Winding

1 comment:

RPM said...

You were great in those "Major League" movies.