Saturday, June 30, 2007

How Can We Allow This Without Pumping Our Fists?



I used to watch this video when the election was going on and wind up in tears half the time. The combination of both the sentiment and the tangible evidence of SOMEONE, ANYONE, reaching out to the apathetic MTV generation just makes me want to go out and riot. I have a well documented fascination with Eminem, because I find him such an interesting, complex person and respect the hell out of his willingness to put his considerable Issues out there in the light, but this just totally seals the deal with me. Love it. This video was made in conjunction with GNN, which is an interesting alternative news site that's worth a check...I know all you hippies I hang out with will be all over it.

Anyway, for anyone who can't catch all the lyrics or wants to ruminate on them a little bit, here they are...this is just one of the thousand reasons that it is so important to get out and VOTE. VOTE EVERY CHANCE YOU GET! This is not a dress rehearsal, it is not inconsequential,

THIS IS YOUR LIFE! YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF YOUR LOT IN LIFE! GET TO THE POLLS AND TELL THEM TO GET THEIR ACT TOGETHER!

Ahem.

I pledge allgience to the flag of the United States of America. And the to the republic...


People! This is it! It feels so good to be back...mosh with me now;
I scrutinize every word, memorize every line;
I spit it once, refuel, re-energize and rewind;
I give sight to the blind, my insight's through the mind;
I exercise my right to express when I feel it's time;
It's just all in your mind - what you interpret it as:
I say to fight, you take it as I'ma whip someone’s ass,
If you don’t understand, don’t even bother to ask,
A father who has grown up with a fatherless past,
Who has blown up now to rap phenomenon
that has, or at least shows, no difficulty multi-taskin' and juggling both;
Perhaps mastered-his-craft slash entrepreneur;
Who has helped launch a few more rap acts,
Who’s had a few obstacles thrown his way,
Through the last half of his career,
Typical manure, moving past that,
Mister kiss-his-ass-crack, he’s a class-act,
Rubber-band man, yeah, he just snaps back.

Chorus: Come along, follow me, as I lead through the darkness;
As I provide just enough spark that we need to proceed;
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength;
Come with me, and I won't steer you wrong.
Put your faith in your trust, as I guide us through the fog;
To the light at the end of the tunnel - we gon’ fight,
We gon’ charge, we gon’ stomp,
We gon’ march through the swamp,
We gon’ mosh through the marsh.
Take us right through the doors, come on...


All the people up top, on the side and the middle;
Come together, let's all form this swamp just a little;
Just let it gradually build, from the front to the back,
All you can see is a sea of people, some white and some black;
No matter what color, all that matters we're gathered together;
To celebrate for the same cause, no matter the weather;
If it rains, let it rain, yeah, the wetter the better;
They ain’t gon’ stop us, they can't, we're stronger now, more then ever.
They tell us "No," we say "Yeah," they tell us "Stop", we say "Go,"
Rebel with a rebel yell, raise hell we gon’ let em know;
Stomp, push, shove, mush, fuck Bush;
Until they bring our troops home, c'mon, just..


Chorus: Come along, follow me, as I lead through the darkness;
As I provide just enough spark that we need to proceed;
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength;
Come with me, and I won't steer you wrong.
Put your faith in your trust, as I guide us through the fog;
To the light at the end of the tunnel - we gon’ fight,
We gon’ charge, we gon’ stomp,
We gon’ march through the swamp,
We gon’ mosh through the marsh.
Take us right through the doors, come on...


Imagine it pourin’, it's rainin’ down on us;
Mosh pits outside the Oval Office;
Someone’s tryin' to tell us something,
Maybe this is God just sayin' we're responsible
For this monster, this coward that we have empowered;
This is Bin Laden, look at his head noddin’;
How could we allow something like this, without pumpin' our fists?
Now, this is our final hour.
Let me be the voice, and your strength and your choice;
Let me simplify the rhyme just to amplify the noise;
Try to amplify it, times it, and multiply it by sixteen million people,
All equal at this high pitch, maybe we can reach Al Qaeda through my speech;
Let the president answer a high anarchy, Strap him with a AK-47;
Let him go fight his own war, let him impress daddy that way.
No more blood for oil, we got our own battles to fight on our own soil,
No more psychological warfare to trick us to thinking that we ain’t loyal,
If we don’t serve our own country, we’re patronizing our heroes.
Look in his eyes, its all lies, the Stars and Stripes, have been swiped,
Washed out and wiped and replaced with his own face,
Mosh now or die - If I get sniped tonight, you’ll know why,
‘Cause I told you to fight.


Chorus: Come along, follow me, as I lead through the darkness;
As I provide just enough spark that we need to proceed;
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength;
Come with me, and I won't steer you wrong.
Put your faith in your trust, as I guide us through the fog;
To the light at the end of the tunnel - we gon’ fight,
We gon’ charge, we gon’ stomp,
We gon’ march through the swamp,
We gon’ mosh through the marsh.
Take us right through the doors, come on...


And as we proceed to mosh through this desert storm,
In these closing statements, if they should argue, let us beg to differ!
As we set aside our differences, and assemble our own army,
To disarm this weapon of mass destruction,
That we call our president for the present,
And mosh for the future of our next generation.
To speak and be heard.
Mr President...Mr Senator....
Can you guys hear us?

Monday, June 25, 2007

The Commute, In Open Letters

Dear Everyone Driving on 290 At About 7:43 This Morning;


The State Police Officer standing on the side of the road, pointing a radar gun at the oncoming traffic, knows you're not doing 45 on the highway. The speed limit of said highway is 65. In recognition of this face, please refrain from slamming on your brakes and reducing your speed from 85 to 45 in a half second, causing everyone behind you to panic and slam on THEIR brakes.

Sincerely,


Chick in the Dodge Stratus


*******************************************************************************
Dear Dickwad in the Cream Magnum on 290 at the Same Time;

It's not the speed that will eventually get you nailed by the State Police.

It's the speed, combined with the weaving in and out of traffic, combined with your policy on never entering a lane unless you're three inches off someone's bumper, combined with your phone conversation, combined with your tilting your head all the way back to get the last dregs of your beverage, combined with your choice to drive an ugly car in a weird color.


Sincerely,

CinDS

***********************************************************************************
Dear Statie Radar Gunning People By the Side of 290;


We can all see you.

Park further back.


Love,

The Public

************************************************************************************
Dear Cheap iPod Car Adapter I Bought On eBay For Roughly Three Cents;


I don't particularly care that you don't work all that well, but I would appreciate it if you would man up and malfunction the same way every time. We had things all figured out until I took my iPod inside for about a week to charge it and put new music on it.

I realize you may just be frustrated with my insistence on using the "what's this? It says 'ip-odd'" line from House every morning but seriously, if you saw the episode, you would understand that the line was sublime and SHOULD be used every morning.

If it's really an issue I am happy to negotiate. Let's talk.


Love,

Me

************************************************************************************
And two bonus letters unrelated to the commute.
************************************************************************************

Dear Dick Cheney;

You will note that there is no separate branch marked with your name, nor is there one marked "Vice President's Office."


Go fuck YOURself.


Sincerely,


Me
************************************************************************************

Dear Democrats in Congress;


Good show, but please fix the Iraq war first.


While Cheney is a creepy douchebag, Iraq is actually making people die.


Love,

Me

Sunday, June 10, 2007

An Open Letter To Some City's Finest Who Passed Me On 290 Today

Dear Cop From A Jurisdiction I Didn't Catch Who Passed Me On 290 Today,

I'm going to go out on a limb here, never having taken the police exam and thus not knowing whether or not "leading by example" is actually on said exam, but I'd just like to float the idea that MAYBE as a police officer it would be best if you didn't tailgate three people until they switched lanes, get to me, ride my bumper, then once I got out of your way, blow past me at about 90 miles an hour, ON YOUR CELL PHONE and proceed to tailgate the person who I had been following.

I'm just throwing it out there.

Love,

Me

PS - The same theory and recommendation applies for each separate time you followed the same pattern with every car in front of you from exit 26A on 290 through somewhere around exit 29A on 495. I'M JUST SAYING.