Sunday, August 29, 2004

Harvester of Hearts
Rufus Wainwright

If a person should ever like a person
Then a person should like you
Being that I'm only just a person
What would you do?
If a person should ever like a person
Then a person should like me
Being that you're only just a person
It must be
Still I find it hard to get an answer
From the harvester of hearts
Always find it hard to get an answer
From the harvester of hearts

If a person should ever like a person
How funny that would be
If a person should ever like me
Not that I have that much to offer
God knows I have so much to gain
From the harvester of hearts
From the harvester of pain

If a person should ever like a person
Then a person should be free
Free to like whomever that they want to
Even though it ain't me
Not that I have much to offer
God knows I have so much to gain
From the harvester of hearts
From the harvester of pain

Saturday, August 28, 2004

Things I Couldn't Get This Week

1. A Car
2. A Car Loan
3. A Used Xbox
4. Travis's Jokes


Friday, August 20, 2004

Thursday, August 19, 2004

Things Have Changed

Well I saw Bob Dylan play on Wednesday night in Kodak, TN, at the Smokies baseball stadium, so I guess I can quit posting Bob lyrics now. I say I went to see him play, and that's exactly what I mean. I didn't see him put on a show, and I didn't see him perform for us. What I did see him do was get four or five other guys onto a stage with him in a baseball stadium that kinda just happened to have a few thousand other people hangin' around. Then he might have said, "Ok boys, let's play something", or "Hit it!", or "Where'd I leave my goddamn joint...", or something, and then he and those four or five other guys started making the biggest noise I'd ever heard in this state. He didn't sing the tunes like I'd ever heard them before. Hell, he didn't sing so much as recite them. He leaned as far away from the beat as he could. Sometimes it sounded like the band knew the songs better than he did. But it was good, hard-rockin' stuff, and Bob belted out the words like he meant them. Bob's a funny man. Bob's a living man. What more can you ask for from Bob, except to live, and to play, right before your very eyes.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Every Grain Of Sand
Bob Dylan

In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed
There's a dyin' voice within me reaching out somewhere,
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.

Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake,
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break.
In the fury of the moment I can see the Master's hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer.
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.

I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name.
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light,
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.

Saving Grace
Bob Dylan

If You find it in Your heart, can I be forgiven?
Guess I owe You some kind of apology.
I've escaped death so many times, I know I'm only living
By the saving grace that's over me.

By this time I'd-a thought I would be sleeping
In a pine box for all eternity.
My faith keeps me alive, but I still be weeping
For the saving grace that's over me.

Well, the death of life, then come the resurrection,
Wherever I am welcome is where I'll be.
I put all my confidence in Him, my sole protection
Is the saving grace that's over me.

Well, the devil's shining light, it can be most blinding,
But to search for love, that ain't no more than vanity.
As I look around this world all that I'm finding
Is the saving grace that's over me.

The wicked know no peace and you just can't fake it,
There's only one road and it leads to Calvary.
It gets discouraging at times, but I know I'll make it
By the saving grace that's over me.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Knockin' On Heaven's Door
Bob Dylan

Mama, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore.
It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door...

Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door...

Sweetheart Like You
Bob Dylan

Well, the pressure's down, the boss ain't here,
He gone North for a while,
They say that vanity got the best of him
But he sure left here in style.
By the way, that's a cute hat,
And that smile's so hard to resist
What's a sweetheart like you doin' in a dump like this?

You know, I once knew a woman who looked like you,
She wanted a whole man, not just a half,
She used to call me sweet daddy when I was only a child,
You kind of remind me of her when you laugh.
In order to deal in this game, got to make the queen disappear,
It's done with a flick of the wrist.
What's a sweetheart like you doin' in a dump like this?

You know, a woman like you should be at home,
That's where you belong,
Watching out for someone who loves you true
Who would never do you wrong.
Just how much abuse will you be able to take?
Well, there's no way to tell by that first kiss.
What's a sweetheart like you doin' in a dump like this?

You know you can make a name for yourself,
You can hear them tires squeal,
You can be known as the most beautiful woman
Who ever crawled across cut glass to make a deal.

You know, news of you has come down the line
Even before ya came in the door.
They say in your father's house, there's many mansions
Each one of them got a fireproof floor.
Snap out of it, baby, people are jealous of you,
They smile to your face, but behind your back they hiss.
What's a sweetheart like you doin' in a dump like this?

Got to be an important person to be in here, honey,
Got to have done some evil deed,
Got to have your own harem when you come in the door,
Got to play your harp until your lips bleed.

They say that patriotism is the last refuge
To which a scoundrel clings.
Steal a little and they throw you in jail,
Steal a lot and they make you king.
There's only one step down from here, baby,
It's called the land of permanent bliss.
What's a sweetheart like you doin' in a dump like this?

Monday, August 16, 2004

Dark Eyes
Bob Dylan

Oh, the gentlemen are talking and the midnight moon is on the riverside,
They're drinking up and walking and it is time for me to slide.
I live in another world where life and death are memorized,
Where the earth is strung with lovers' pearls and all I see are dark eyes.

A cock is crowing far away and another soldier's deep in prayer,
Some mother's child has gone astray, she can't find him anywhere.
But I can hear another drum beating for the dead that rise,
Whom nature's beast fears as they come and all I see are dark eyes.

They tell me to be discreet for all intended purposes,
They tell me revenge is sweet and from where they stand, I'm sure it is.
But I feel nothing for their game where beauty goes unrecognized,
All I feel is heat and flame and all I see are dark eyes.

Oh, the French girl, she's in paradise and a drunken man is at the wheel,
Hunger pays a heavy price to the falling gods of speed and steel.
Oh, time is short and the days are sweet and passion rules the arrow that flies,
A million faces at my feet but all I see are dark eyes.

Sunday, August 15, 2004

Bob Dylan

Fat man lookin' in a blade of steel
Thin man lookin' at his last meal
Hollow man lookin' in a cottonfield
For dignity

Wise man lookin' in a blade of grass
Young man lookin' in the shadows that pass
Poor man lookin' through painted glass
For dignity

Somebody got murdered on New Year's Eve
Somebody said dignity was the first to leave
I went into the city, went into the town
Went into the land of the midnight sun

Searchin' high, searchin' low
Searchin' everywhere I know
Askin' the cops wherever I go
Have you seen dignity?

Blind man breakin' out of a trance
Puts both his hands in the pockets of chance
Hopin' to find one circumstance
Of dignity

I went to the wedding of Mary-lou
She said "I don't want nobody see me talkin' to you"
Said she could get killed if she told me what she knew
About dignity

I went down where the vultures feed
I would've got deeper, but there wasn't any need
Heard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men
Wasn't any difference to me

Chilly wind sharp as a razor blade
House on fire, debts unpaid
Gonna stand at the window, gonna ask the maid
Have you seen dignity?

Drinkin' man listens to the voice he hears
In a crowded room full of covered up mirrors
Lookin' into the lost forgotten years
For dignity

Met Prince Phillip at the home of the blues
Said he'd give me information if his name wasn't used
He wanted money up front, said he was abused
By dignity

Footprints runnin' cross the silver sand
Steps goin' down into tattoo land
I met the sons of darkness and the sons of light
In the bordertowns of despair

Got no place to fade, got no coat
I'm on the rollin' river in a jerkin' boat
Tryin' to read a note somebody wrote
About dignity

Sick man lookin' for the doctor's cure
Lookin' at his hands for the lines that were
And into every masterpiece of literature
for dignity

Englishman stranded in the blackheart wind
Combin' his hair back, his future looks thin
Bites the bullet and he looks within
For dignity

Someone showed me a picture and I just laughed
Dignity never been photographed
I went into the red, went into the black
Into the valley of dry bone dreams

So many roads, so much at stake
So many dead ends, I'm at the edge of the lake
Sometimes I wonder what it's gonna take
To find dignity

Saturday, August 14, 2004

On A Night Like This
Bob Dylan

On a night like this
So glad you came around,
Hold on to me so tight
And heat up some coffee grounds.
We got much to talk about
And much to reminisce,
It sure is right
On a night like this.

On a night like this
So glad you've come to stay
Hold on to me, pretty miss
Say you'll never go away to stray.
Run your fingers down my spine
Bring me a touch of bliss
It sure feels right
On a night like this.

On a night like this
I can't get any sleep,
The air is so cold outside
And the snow's so deep.
Build a fire, throw on logs
And listen to it hiss
And let it burn, burn, burn, burn
On a night like this.

Put your body next to mine
And keep me company,
There is plenty a room for all,
So please don't elbow me.

Let the four winds blow
Around this old cabin door,
If I'm not too far off
I think we did this once before.
There's more frost on the window glass
With each new tender kiss,
But it sure feels right
On a night like this.
Mississippi, Bob Dylan

Every step of the way we walk the line
Your days are numbered, so are mine
Time is pilin' up, we struggle and we scrape
We're all boxed in, nowhere to escape

City's just a jungle, more games to play
Trapped in the heart of it, trying to get away
I was raised in the country, I been workin' in the town
I been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down

Got nothing for you, I had nothing before
Don't even have anything for myself anymore
Sky full of fire, pain pourin' down
Nothing you can sell me, I'll see you around

All my powers of expression and thoughts so sublime
Could never do you justice in reason or rhyme
Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in Mississippi a day too long

Well, the devil's in the alley, mule's in the stall
Say anything you wanna, I have heard it all
I was thinkin' about the things that Rosie said
I was dreaming I was sleeping in Rosie's bed

Walking through the leaves, falling from the trees
Feeling like a stranger nobody sees
So many things that we never will undo
I know you're sorry, I'm sorry too

Some people will offer you their hand and some won't
Last night I knew you, tonight I don't
I need somethin' strong to distract my mind
I'm gonna look at you 'til my eyes go blind

Well I got here following the southern star
I crossed that river just to be where you are
Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in Mississippi a day too long

Well my ship's been split to splinters and it's sinking fast
I'm drownin' in the poison, got no future, got no past
But my heart is not weary, it's light and it's free
I've got nothin' but affection for all those who've sailed with me

Everybody movin' if they ain't already there
Everybody got to move somewhere
Stick with me baby, stick with me anyhow
Things should start to get interesting right about now

My clothes are wet, tight on my skin
Not as tight as the corner that I painted myself in
I know that fortune is waitin' to be kind
So give me your hand and say you'll be mine

Well, the emptiness is endless, cold as the clay
You can always come back, but you can't come back all the way
Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in Mississippi a day too long

Friday, August 13, 2004

Tangled Up In Blue
Bob Dylan

Early one mornin' the sun was shinin',
I was layin' in bed
Wonderin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type."
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue.

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue.

So now I'm goin' back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives.
Don't know how it all got started,
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives.
But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Bob Dylan

The seasons they are turning
And my sad heart is yearning
To hear again the songbird's sweet melodious tone
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone

The dusky light the day is losing
Orchids, poppies, black eyed susan
The earth and sky that melts with flesh and bone
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone

The air is thick and heavy
All along the levee
Where the geese into the countryside have flown
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone

Well, I'm preaching peace and harmony
The blessings of tranquility
Yet I know when the time is right to strike
I take you 'cross the river, dear
You've no need to linger here
I know the kinds of things you like

The clouds are turning crimson
The leaves fall from the limbs and
The branches cast their shadows over stone
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone

The boulevards of cypress trees
The masquerade of birds and bees
The petals pink and white, the wind has blown
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone

The trailing moss in mystic glow, the purple blossom soft as snow
My tears keep flowing to the sea
Doctor, lawyer, indian chief, it takes a thief to catch a thief
For whom does the bell toll for, love?
It tolls for you and me

Old pulse's running through my palm
The sharp hills are rising from
Yellow fields with twisted oaks that grow
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone

Friday, August 06, 2004

Yesterday, I bought a copy of the greatest, funniest, saddest, thickest work of fiction I ever read, David James Duncan's The Brothers K. The title plays off Dostoevsky's Karamazov, but has many more meanings besides. These are explained, partway through the book, in a short ditty titled, quite simply, A Definition, composed in the tale by one of the titular brothers(who happens to be, arguably, the funniest and most self-destructive one). This piece could also very well be used as a summary (of sorts) of what the book is about. I quote it here, with thanks to the author.

A Definition

K verb, K'ed, K'ing. 1. baseball: to strike out. 2. To fail, to flunk, to fuck up, to fizzle, or 3. to fall short, fall apart, fall flat, fall by the wayside, or on deaf ears, or on hard times, or into disrepute or disrepair, or 4. to come unglued, come to grief, come to blows, come to nothing, or 5 go to the dogs, go through the roof, go home in a casket, go to hell in a handbasket, or 6. to blow your cover, blow your chances, blow your cool, blow your stack, shoot your wad, bitch the deal, buy the farm, bite the dust, only 7. to recollect an oddball notion you first heard as a crimeless and un-K'ed child but found so nonsenically paradoxical that you had to ignore it or defy it or betray it for decades before you could begin to believe that it might possibly be true, which is that 8. to lose your money, your virginity, your teach, health or hair, 9. to lose your home, your innocence, your balance, your friends, 10. to lose your happiness, your hopes, your leisure, your looks, and, yea, even your memories, your vision, your mind, your way,
11. in short (and as Jesus K. Rist once so uncompromisingly put it) to lose your very self,
12. for the sake of another, is
13. sweet irony, the only way you're ever going to save it.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

The Song of Wandering Aengus
W.B. Yeats

I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle is a classic. For real. Go see it.
The moon, all too fair, in your russet-red hair sets a sparkling crown
The moon, all too red with glory, is spread on your poor, tattered gown
The moon, all too white, caresses the light in your world-weary eyes
Princess of the street, do allow me to greet you, my broken heart cries

Les escaliers de la butte
sont durs aux miséreux
les ailes des moulins
protègent les amoureux


Complainte De La Butte

Monday, August 02, 2004


ever had a day
that hurt and hurt
but no-one twists the knife
ever had a day
you saw the world
its parody of life
you saw the world
its stupid rhymes
its angry skin
its dying shit
its lying dreams
its crying dogs
its raped and
bleeding babes

you don't believe;
you see the world;
you see it
like it's true.
you don't believe;
you see the world;
recieve it
like it's true.

all you are
is broken truth
but all
want is you

Sunday, August 01, 2004

And Now For Something Completely Different

When I was a kid, I spent a great deal of time by myself, alone with my thoughts, watching other people, asking myself questions about them that had no answers. They weren't questions about specifics, like who this person was or where that person was from, but just the same general questions over and over again.

Look at all those people.
Where did they all come from?
Look at all the lonely people.
Where do they all come from?

I grew up, I kept seeing these people. Blank looks on their faces, screaming at their kids, sitting by the side of the road, missing a hand, missing an eye, holding a half-dead baby, whatever. I'd walk past, maybe gave them some change to make myself feel better, said a prayer, but I walked past, and I'd wonder. What if I was that person? What if I gave up some of my time to actually help? What'd he do to deserve that life? Same questions, really, all of them, when I think about it.

What the fuck?

Let me elaborate. What the fuck? What the fuck was that? How the fuck is it I'm fed, clothed, and dreaming of being relevant while some other poor fuck two meters away from me is living that shithole existence? Who came up with this shit, and why are people wired to let shit happen? Why do I keep running into shit like this that makes me feel like a complete asshole? Who designed this fucking guilt-trip of a world, stuck me in like a poppyseed on a giant fucking lemon poppyseed cake, and proceeded to start taking bites of all the fucking nameless poppyseeds around me?

You hear all kinds of things people come up with to explain this shit. There's the spark of love in everyone. We learn compassion this way. No one is without hope. All we need is luuuv. Okay. Sure. I'll run with that. I had compassion for these people. Yeah, I did. And the fact that I had compassion made me feel better about doing nothing. Where's my cof-fay.

Then Christ found me, and after a long process of discovery, I learned the following things. We fucked it all up. We did. We're fucked up. Every one of us, fucked since birth. Here's the clincher, though: we don't have to be fucked up. There is hope for the fucked. All who come to Christ and believe in Him may be saved. All others... well they're still fucked.

Woah, my brain said. Wait a minute. We were fucked at the start? Dude in the Mercedes and the business suit, just as fucked as single starving mom and dying baby on the street? Ho-kay. Never would've guessed that on my own. Blue-collar schmoe here in front of me ordering a Big Fucking Happy Meal at McFuckingDees, completely fucked and doesn't even know it? Half-dying-soon-to-be-dead one-year-old with her fucking crackwhore mom, fucked here on earth and, probably, if no one else doesn't say to her the right words soon, fucked in the afterlife? Well, a part of me said, it's so fucking ridiculous you can at least be sure no human being made it up. Well, the rest of me said, it's fucking ridiculous, so fuck that.

Then God put a word in. That's how it is, He said. You don't see it all yet. You see only in part, as through a glass darkly. I am the God you met. I am the God who met you. I love you. Again, you do not see my love clearly.

You can deny that what I say is true.

You cannot deny that I AM the God you met.

Back when I first heard that, I pretty much said "Oh". This morning I woke up, and I was wondering what "Oh" meant, exactly.

Welcome to the blog of hope.