van morrison: 'real real gone'
I can't stand up by myself
Don't you know, baby, I need your help
You're a friend of mine
And I'm real real gone, alright
Scarlett Sumac , whom I dubbed Queen Scarlett, says this is OS’s swan song, and it may well be. Let us see how it goes.....
Meanwhile, go here for a last nice memory of os:
This Bud's For You (and you) - Scarlett Sumac - Open Salon
If this is the last day of os, then it is a good one, for I was graced to read Art James’ bearded musings on his past present and future, which is holy silliness. The old boy taught me that. How to be silly.
for utter head-rearranging, for god's sake go here:
Sea, water, sky, blues, boats, banana tree & porcupine - Art James - Open Salon
Scarlett taught me the further-north wisdom, from Canada. I already have a northern sister, up there in Maine, who is so wise I don’t know how she gets through the day sane dealing with all the shit she gotta deal with , in her capacity as a social worker for Head Start. She often texts me from dentists’ offices, where she brings youngsters who need serious dental surgery at age three or four.
When os falls to pieces as it capsizes, after hitting the iceberg, with the captain long long gone, safe in an office somewhere, looking at a bottom line….when our personal Titanic goes down, as ,alas, all good and holy things must, when they are exposed to the vulgar culture of hard merciless ice….smashed to pieces…when it goes down I will cry. I really will. But. I . will. Not . do a . decaprio.
I never liked him. Well,til he got all tough in Blood Diamonds. Yet still, he dies in the end. What is it with him? He only makes movies where he has to make the ultimate sacrifice?
……………………………..
Os..
In a way, we all made the ultimate sacrifice, sharing our minds and thought-dreams with each other, in the (now foolish) expectation that it might last…that a place could be carved out of the pornographic electromagnetic sea, an island, a safe haven…foolish, don’t you agree?
I actually have to disagree, with myself. OS taught me how to do that. To amend, to edit, to delete thoughts that are not worthy of me. For this stupid place makes me feel worthy..of…being listened to. Really listened to. You cannot find that in the “real world”, except in arduously won moments…
………………………………….
Scarlett writes of the blooming of a flower, in real time…awfully metaphorically apropos, our Queen, always.
Flowers die.
That is a hard fact.
Mothers die too.
That is a much harder fact.
……………………………..
My mother is back, sort of, after a while in the underworld.
“Well, James, I see your little ‘site’ as you call it is going away. “ She always brings up the truth, no matter how hard it is to bear. It is how I was raised. Bad stuff expected. Prepare. Or…languish…
“I don’t think so. I think there might be hope for us.”
“Mm. You would. That is your problem. And having read some of your ‘little friends’ ‘ , uh, posts, they do too. They are very unrealistic. They need to be taught that nothing good ever lasts.”
Aha. An opening…
Of course I said, “ Except you, mom. Except you.”
“Oh, you do have a silver tongue. But..lately it is much more realistic. And nicer. How did that happen? Don’t ..don’ tell me it was this computer of yours.”
“No, I wouldn’t. ever say that. But..it had a lot to do with it.”
“Mm. Well, this Scarlett woman, hah, has such pretty flowers. I’d like to go back there, to her nice post. DO NOT take me to that silly old man’s post. You know whom I mean. “
“Porcupines and Jung!”
“What? Don’t speak nonsense. Porcupines? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Let’s go back to the garden, Mother.”
.............................................
You're a friend of mine
And I'm, I'm real real gone
Help me stand up
Help me stand up
All by myself
You're a friend of mine
And I'm real, I'm real real gone
Real gone
.............................
If I had a conscience I just might blow my top
What would I do with it anyway?
Maybe take it to the pawnshop.
Dylan, “highlands”
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Comments
Thank goodness for sisters, eh?
Thank goodness for Scarlett -- and pretty flowers -- and words.
: )
prepare for the worst.
I dunno if that is a good thing for a mom to teach.
But the lesson was well learned.
JUST: yes, well put. thank Goodness, for it exists..
ah so briefly.....
That's what OS was at its best, and I will cherish the good times and try to forget the bad -- just as I've tried to do with all my old loves.
This is like getting a call to attend a funeral.
No body yet but we're crossing our fingers...
Otherwise it will feel damn goofy to be standing there sniffling with a bouquet in hand.
Quiet, the minister has stepped up.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to honor...what?!?
No body in the casket?!? Quick ! Somebody pass the offering plate. We have to something until the departed arrives."
Tommy: I know. I wish I coulda shared in what you describe:
“tuth be told -- and it seldom is –
at it's best, this place was a sort of lower echelon Algonquin Roundtable,
or maybe akin to that old Steve Allen show –
a show called Meeting of the Minds.
That's what OS was at its best, and I will cherish the good times and try to forget the bad -- just as I've tried to do with all my old loves.”
But wait. One more damn journey for us exhausted warriors to save Arthur’s rule?
But wait…I see our Arthur, and today, I dunno why , it has been that old drunk chuchill, he of the fight in the air, and on the beaches..
“What is the use of living,
if it be not to strive for noble causes
and to make this muddled world a better place
for those who will live in it after we are gone?
How else can we put ourselves in harmonious relation
with the great verities and consolations
of the infinite and the eternal?
And I avow my faith that we are marching towards better days. Humanity will not be cast down.
We are going on swinging bravely
forward along the grand high road
and already behind the distant mountains is the promise of the sun.”
Let us hope (and pray for those that do) the rumors of our gathering place's demise are premature and over wrought. I would hate to lose all these damn fine people. Fine sad post.
Rated.
“Well... crap.
This is like getting a call to attend a funeral.”
Tis one of those faux ones. Funerals. Where the dead man sits up in his coffin and says, oh, mellow out a bit, you grievers…………oops.
Shit..missed that:
‘Quiet, the minister has stepped up.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to honor...what?!?
No body in the casket?!? Quick ! Somebody pass the offering plate. We have to something until the departed arrives."
THESE MINISTERS today are good men and women, but hardly the old time kind, the ones who might set you straight, like the one from Moby Dick, remember that scene? Ay.
Gimme a bearded gray minister. He will get up and deliver the goods.
“Every man’s conscience is vile and depraved.
Tis you who must keep it satisfied.”
And that is Dylan , who would make a good minister.
when os wouldnt load. now it is quicksilver.
a kiddo must take advantage....
Chuchill, a fellow drunk, speaks to me today.
"Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and the glory of the climb.
In "Painting as a Pastime"
also that sour faced pissed off minister, dylan.
"reacher was talking there's a sermon he gave
He said every man's conscience is vile and depraved
You cannot depend on it to be your guide
When it's you who must keep it satisfied
It ain't easy to swallow it sticks in the throat
She gave her heart to the man in the long black coat.
There are no mistakes in life some people say
It is true sometimes you can see it that way
But people don't live or die people just float
She went with the man in the long black coat."
We're going to hell in a bucket, babe, so we might as well enjoy the ride. - Jerry Garcia
What's "a deCaprio" ? You know, Bogart died at the end of a lot of his movies, too. Not the good ones, especially, but a lot of his B movies.
"There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures."
perched perfectly between
heaven
&hell.......
Say you aren't really going Jimmy-boyo, tell me it ain't so!
R
http://open.salon.com/blog/sagemerlin/2012/06/22/lets_take_over_open_salonno_really_lets_buy_os
Its not as simple as you think. I seriously doubt Open Salon is going anywhere. And if it does no biggy either “I will see you on the avenue.” I always remember my friends
No mushy mushy.
Just takes it as a man, and smirks a last snarly smile at whoever.
‘All you owe the public is a good performance.’
To Frank Sinatra,
Decaprio, this fleshy sacrifice boy?
Some sourced stuff out of his mouth:
“name. My parents were real hippies. [2]
Drugs? Every one has a choice and I choose not to do drugs. [3]
With Romeo and Juliet, you're talking about two people who meet one night, and get married the same night. I believe in love at first sight-but it hasn't happened to me yet. [4]
I'm absolutely clean. I've never tried anything. That's not a lie!. [5]
I'm not the sort of person who tries to be cool or trendy. I'm definitely an individual. [6]
I don't have emotions about a lot of things. I rarely get angry, I rarely cry. I guess I do get excited a lot, but I don't get sad and enormously happy. [7]
"There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures."
THAT IS A GOOD SNAPSHOT OF OUR SITUATION. Indeed. Thank u.
Provisionaly
Tell u twas a sily rumor;
“o look at the world through so many different, multi-faceted lenses...I won't be able to stand the loss of so many, all at once, knowing they are all still out there, but I won't be able to reach out and connect any more. Oh, dear...tell me it's a prank my mischievous friend!’
I AM Mischevious,but often in the service of something higher. I wishi could pinpoint it for you. But I just call it, with my aa buddies, my higher power.
I have said that it is the mighty unconscious. But…these folks are very connected with ‘choice’ which is a conscious thing.ay…………………………………
v...i am not going. till they kick me out. forceably
Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality. It speaks of what seems fantastic and unreal to those who have lost the simple intuitions which are the test of reality; and, as it is often found at war with its age, so it makes no account of history, which is fabled by the daughters of memory.
I know about those daughters of memory. That is Mr. blake.
1. daughters of memory
and 2. daughters of inspiration.
how he hated memory.
'Song: Memory, hither come
Memory, hither come,
And tune your merry notes;
And, while upon the wind
Your music floats,
I'll pore upon the stream
Where sighing lovers dream,
And fish for fancies as they pass
Within the watery glass.
I'll drink of the clear stream,
And hear the linnet's song;
And there I'll lie and dream
The day along:
And, when night comes, I'll go
To places fit for woe,
Walking along the darken'd valley
With silent Melancholy.
GORDON, right on goddammit. Right the f. on!
Get money for my scribbling on Eternity's wall .
I at least make decent graffiti, i feel.Better than some,
but not as good as what is written
in red letters up there:
it is blake who else. always there first.
ah and shakespeare not so far behind...
"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."
a proverb of (ironic)hell.
Time's glory is to command contending kings,
To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light.
The Rape of Lucrece.
are preparing the ground for the eternal get to know each other
party..worry not..try facebook..
i am a facboo k retard, myself.
shakespeare 'midsummer night dream":
"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows;
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
Oberon, scene i"
hm
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
I amend ol' MacBeth's ending with my own, far inferior:
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.
"Yet those tales, told 'round the fire,
full of sound and fury and mirth,
must signify something,
if nothing more than 'we were all once here.' "
Is he that holy? Nope.
Well done..
“"Yet those tales, told 'round the fire,
full of sound and fury and mirth,
must signify something,
if nothing more than 'we were all once here.'’
Some of a more mystical bent, like blake, who admired Shakespeare but worshipped Milton,
Said this is the most obvious thing, every word, every sigh, recorded, never ever lost.
But blake was and is a maniac. Shakespeare a fine successful writer, lotsa money, ya?
to go down with the ship. out of courtesy. i dunno. i might.
maybe not. dunno yet. thank u!
If one ship capsizes we have to find a new one per SOS.
~R~
Good idea,Jmac.
it is out there. being discussed.a wild idea..
and yet..what a fine one..
what a paradise we might make........
a wild crazy idea indeed..................................................................
bubble on, os.
bubbling nicely for a few hrs now.........
Here's to you. ...
Deb
I've been stuck at work all day and haven't been able t0 comment.
I said "IF" it is the swan song. Personally, I didn't want my last post to be about my dying cat. OS does seem to have been dying a slow death for some time now but don't go holding me responsible for rumours ... Sheesh!
I'll be back to read and comment on your piece once I am at home.
You sent your post here on a whimsical spin by invoking dear Eleanor; her presence is appreciated. Her voice clear. And so are you ...
James, "We are stardust, we are golden and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden." Stepping out into mine right now. xo
the DRAMA!!!