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Friday, September 26, 2003

I seem to have lost my titles...

..no matter...

Once upon a time, I'll call it Wednesday..I shot an elk. With my bow. A big cow. About 600 pounds, methinks. At the bottom of a big, big, big, hill. Hard work..

Still recovering.


Monday, September 22, 2003



And this blog quotes, The whistles go WOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Go here. Cool. Very cool. Unless you don't have sound. In which case this will seem stupid.

This is a classic. Bubb Rubb rules. I mean, it might be impossible to overstate the coolness therein.

The moral of the story is that white people are lame and boring.



I'm in the habit of occasionally posting lyrics to songs I happen to be listening to (hey, Walt Whitman copied song lyrics into his notebooks full of poems - hilarity ensued). Henceforth:

Remember the Mountain Bed

Do you still sing of the mountain bed we made of limbs and leaves?
Do you still sigh there near the sky where the holly berry bleeds?
You laughed as I covered you over with leaves
Face, breast, hips, and thighs
You smiled when I said the leaves were just the color of your eyes

Rosin smells and turpentine smells from eucalyptus and pine
Bitter tastes of twigs we chewed where tangled wood vines twine
Trees held us in on all four sides so thick we could not see
I could not see any wrong in you, and you saw none in me

Your arm was brown against the ground, your cheeks part of the sky
Your fingers played with grassy moss, as limber you did lie
Your stomach moved beneath your shirt and your knees were in the air
Your feet played games with mountain roots as you lay thinking there

Below us the trees grew clumps of trees, raised families of trees, and they
As proud as we tossed their heads in the wind and flung good seeds away
The sun was hot and the sun was bright down in the valley below
Where people starved and hungry for life so empty come and go

There in the shade and hid from the sun we freed our minds and learned
Our greatest reason for being here, our bodies moved and burned
There on our mountain bed of leaves we learned life's reason why
The people laugh and love and dream, they fight, they hate to die

The smell of your hair I know is still there, if most of our leaves are blown
Our words still ring in the brush and the trees where singing seeds are sown
Your shape and form is dim but plain, there on our mountain bed
I see my life was brightest where you laughed and laid your head...

I learned the reason why man must work and how to dream big dreams
To conquer time and space and fight the rivers and the seas
I stand here filled with my emptiness now and look at city and land
And I know why farms and cities are built by hot, warm, nervous hands

I crossed many states just to stand here now, my face all hot with tears
I crossed city, and valley, desert, and stream, to bring my body here
My history and future blaze bright in me and all my joy and pain
Go through my head on our mountain bed where I smell your hair again.

All this day long I linger here and on in through the night
My greeds, desires, my cravings, hopes, my dreams inside me fight:
My loneliness healed, my emptiness filled, I walk above all pain
Back to the breast of my woman and child to scatter my seeds again

If that doesn't stir you in some way, consider yourself clinically dead. These lyrics were written by Woody Guthrie, and music for them was written by Billy Bragg and Wilco, during the Mermaid Avenue sessions. It's one thing to hear Jeff Tweedy sing this song, but it's almost more powerful to read them..

OK, OK..perhaps I just lost man points..



That new CDs sometimes smell like maple syrup??


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