Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Bruce Floofstein (floofinition) – Famous floof-singer from the United States, known for floof rock.
In use: “As a composer and singer, Bruce Floofstein has a kibble bag of noteworthy hits. None resonated as far and wide as his biggest number one song, “Playin’ in the Dark”, a rousing melody about kittens and puppies giving into to restless urges while humans generally sleep.”
Thinking about the impeachment trial in the Senate took me to thoughts of denial and stonewall. This process sucked a line of lyrics into the stream of thought:
But this wall of denial was just built on fear.
Bottom line in my mind, turbocharged business as usual as Republican Senators screamed, “Nothing to see here,” and closed ranks to ensure there wasn’t anything introduced to be seen. Orwell would’ve been impressed.
Meanwhile, today’s theme music continues with the rest of that song, “Wall of Denial”, by Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble (1989). He died the next year, thirty-five years old, killed in a helicopter accident that took four others, as well.
I selected this cover from Late Night. Hope it works for you, too. Cheers
Yesterday while walking, I encountered a small family. The little girls each held either Mommy or Daddy’s hand. Mommy and Daddy were in the middle, talking, and the girls would lean forward around their parents’ legs, and speak and laugh.
Although it amused me, the image brought Pearl Jam’s “Black” (1991) out of the memory vaults and into the active stream as I passed the family.
I take a walk outside
I’m surrounded by
Some kids at play
I can feel their laughter
So why do I sear
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin
Round my head
I’m spinning
Oh, I’m spinning
How quick the sun can, drop away
Why those words, then? Don’t know.
I considered “Black” a beautiful and powerful song from the first time hearing. The lyrics remain an enigma as the song begins with a softness and simplicity that steadily builds, growing louder, angrier, and tenser. Eddie Vedder uses his unique delivery and vocal range to convey complexity and turmoil to give us more to ponder. It seems like he’s wondering and is as bewildered as we are.
Today brought me “Vasoline” by STP – Stone Temple Pilots – from 1994.
First, the song’s unusual, jarring beginning. Then, against that jarring beat, let’s consider the lyrics.
One time a thing occurred to me
What’s real and what’s for sale
Blew a kiss and tried to take it home
It isn’t you, isn’t me
Search for things that you can’t see
Going blind out of reach
Somewhere in the vasoline
Two times and it has rendered me
Punch drunk and without bail
Think I’d be safer all alone
Flies in the vasoline we are
Sometimes it blows my mind
Keep getting stuck here all the time
It isn’t you, isn’t me
Search for things that you can’t see
Going blind out of reach
Somewhere in the vasoline
You’ll see the look
And you’ll see the lies
You’ll eat the lies
And you will
Scott Weiland, the vocalist and lyricist died in 2015, forty-eight years old, another interesting and creative person who was gone too young. He said that it was about being stuck in the same thing again and again, such as the drug addiction that plagued him. Yeah, it’s too easy to get stuck.
Today’s song is due to a Andy Greene article in Rolling Stone about Peter Green. Peter Green was the founder of a little group called Fleetwood Mac, named after Mick Fleetwood (on drums) and John McVie (on bass). After reading the article and listening to the video, I went in search of Peter Green and re-discovered his rendition of The Supernatural. A comment said it was recorded in 1966.
I don’t know. I remember hearing it somewhere as a teenager and wondering, who is that? It was brilliant guitar work. I eventually learned that it was Peter Green. After buying the album used at a head shop, I started playing it at home.
Friends and family weren’t impressed. “There’s no one singing,” was the comment lament. “What’s it about?” “It’s just a guy playing guitar.” These questions and comments left me speechless. Didn’t they hear what he was doing with that guitar?
Peter Green’s skills fell out of my mind as he disappeared from public life after some bad drug experiences. Good of Mick Fleetwood to pay tribute to him and remind us who Peter Green is.
Out of the dream miasma comes Nirvana with “Smells Like Teen Spirit” (1991) – well, hello, hello, hello, how low?
I’m worse at what I do best
And for this gift, I feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end
A denial.
Feeling like a bit o’ rut had overtaken me, I sought changes after leaving my writing time. Writing time had been productive and left me with that sense of magic, that anything was possible. Now, walking again, I faced the boring and mundane, the same old shit – trees, house, and streets. My mind is screaming road trip. Get thee somewhere with a fresh view. Been a while, I thought with first world sniveling, months since I’ve gotten away to somewhere else, which is the primary problem with being in a rut.
Out of this, or into this, streamed Green Day’s 1994 offering, “Longview”. Why not? It’s a song all about being bored and doing the same thing hour and hour twenty-four seven.
| Sit around and watch the tube but, nothing’s on Change the channels for an hour or two Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit I’m sick of all the same old shit In a house with unlocked doors And I’m fucking lazy Bite my lip and close my eyes Peel me off this velcro seat and get me moving |
Dream residue leaves me with “Touch Me” this morning, a song by The Doors from 1968. I was twelve when it came out.
Don’t know why it came up after the dream. Mind works in bizarro manners. Could be the name of my mind: Welcome to Bizarro Manor. Fits. I’m always being accused of having an unusual sense of humor and thinking differently than others. Alas, guilty, but it does bring a sense of isolation.
Hmm, maybe that’s where this song comes in. “Come on, touch me, babe. Can’t you see that I am not afraid? What was that promise that you made?”
This was an interesting video from that era.
Heading downtown after dressing, started singing a bastardized version of ZZ Top’s “Tush” (1975) from my childhood’s end: “Lord, take me downtown, I’m just looking for some coffee.”
Yeah, not as lyrical. Tried other things, and thought caffeine worked best. The things your mind ends up doing to kill walking time. It’s a good upbeat walking song, simple but steady with some guitar riffs that talk to me.
So, here’s the real deal (the song, that is).
Time for a little Neil Young. Call out to him for being naturalized as a U.S. We used to live in the same neighborhood, broadly speaking, on the California coast. A friend was his primary supplier, so the story goes. A little club wasn’t far where he liked to play for small crowds with no announcement, so the story goes.
1989 saw him bring out “Rockin’ in the Free World”. The song provides so many mocking lines drawing attention to our cultural hypocrisy:
We got a thousand points of light
For the homeless man
We got a kinder, gentler,
Machine gun hand
We got department stores
and toilet paper
Got styrofoam boxes
for the ozone layer
Got a man of the people,
says keep hope alive
Got fuel to burn,
got roads to drive.
Yeah, that’s rocking in the free world. That Trump used the song during his POTUS campaign without irony nauseates, but then the Trumplicans bastardize the meaning and intention of everything that they touch, subverting without sparing, heavy of hand and cruel of ideas.
I’m part of the hypocrisy in my comfy white land, something the feeds my perpetual self-damnation. Too weak to walk away from the cushiness, I’ll just do some marchin’, protesting, donating, and votin’, hoping to change things, even though that’s not been working for lo’, these many years since Bush I.
Guess I’ll just keep rockin’. Pour a little CBD into my coffee, please. My joints are hurtin’. “I try to forget it, any way I can.”
Michael Seidel, writer 