the end times

[Nazz]

sear wind is music for now
lurching blast and awkward lull
hard rock deep in echo chambers
upheaval reefs fallen to peace

road is a fuzzy rubberband
stretch tight to hold ridge to ridge
across scrub with no particular range
road goes like a vector to the desert
to the end, where its maker tired
doctrine is strewn volcano rock

you hear differences here
between fickle wind and destination
between fickle mind and quiet road
and buzzbomb pornography of city
and blaring trumpets announce
he’s coming back to save us

[Barry]

Now that works!

Maybe it's because I saw them live the other night, or because a dj on KINK asked me to write a review of the show, which I wrote and submitted yesterday, but I read all kinds of Doors references into this.

"Persian night, babe
See the light, babe
Save us, Jesus, save us"
when the music's over

Peace,
Barry

[Nazz]

Thanks Barry-- high compliment for sure. "Fuzzy rubberbands" into the empty always fascinated. How far do they run? Besides the brief end times jabs, I see I managed to get in the "great divide" between The City and open space. L.A. seemed like the whore of Babylon from out in the Mojave. It was inconceivable that I would go there...

[Barry]

I see your hair is burning
Hills are filled with fire
If they say I never loved you
You know they are a liar

:):)

Peace,
Barry

[Nazz]

It was a very strange stretch of time for me 8 years ago, campin' and motelin' out in the desert, in the surreal, ugly shadow of "nine-eleven"-- what a ghastly turn of events for humankind. I dreaded coming into those redneck towns with the plastic flags in every car window and war slogans everywhere. I remember one guy holding a door open for me at the Gold Strike Hotel, sizing me up-- "you don't look like no A-rab, so come on in"... I suspected the Christian fundamentalist nut cases would start really pushing all that End Times crap, and sure enough... Bush and his "erasing our enemies to make way for Christ to return"-- spouting that bizarre horse hockey about "Gog and Magog." Strange days. Demented, tragic days. (btw, no offense intended toward any sane Christians who hang out here)

[Barry]

The Spirit Of Radio (by RUSH) lyrics

Begin the day with a friendly voice
A companion unobtrusive
Plays the song that's so elusive
And the magic music makes your morning mood

Off on your way, hit the open road
There is magic at your fingers
For the Spirit ever lingers
Undemanding contact in your happy solitude

[Chorus:]
Invisible airwaves crackle with life
Bright antennae bristle with the energy
Emotional feedback on timeless wavelength
Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free

All this machinery making modern music
Can still be open hearted
Not so coldly charted
It's really just a question of your honesty, yeah
Your honesty
One likes to believe in the freedom of music
But glittering prizes and endless compromises
Shatter the illusion of integrity

[Chorus]

For the words of the profits were written on the studio wall
Concert hall
And echoes with the sound of salesmen
Of salesmen
Of SALESMEN!

(bold font added by me, for emphasis)

I know what you mean, Nazz. Just remember, they're salesmen. They're not at all genuine. It's the only way to save oneself: keep a clear head.

Peace,
Barry

[mb]

The stark empty spaces in this puts me in mind of Cormac McCarthy's _The Road_ and appropos to your avatar picture, which I assume is no coincidence.

-mb