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It was not avoidance of some problem that she was advocating, but only a proper approach and perspective: understanding what truly was a problem and what was not. Where and when it could be found, she was for the compassion of laughter. Mireille pondered over the predominate perpetrators of violence on this planet and wondered if the males’ faculty for a certain aspect of acceptance had been frustrated and underdeveloped. Perhaps “acceptance” wasn’t the word she wanted, for enough of them seemed to be in love with a fallen world. No, maybe it was “reception,” or “tolerance,” or some other such word having to do with communication?
She couldn’t find it then but regardless questioned, “why not then let these thoughts inform and foster some work of art: a painting; song; or stand-up routine? At the very least they should let us laugh as they pass on by.” She believed that too few artists are encouraged in our world, and their work too quickly inspected for external utility or market potential. Comedians are poked to placate our revulsion. Our role as creator is repressed and in its stead we labor over cruel acts. “It’s like we’re prohibited from changing anything, really.” Beholden to a moribund heritage, we suffer in the name of habit and being consistent; “…being practical…but…practical for whose protocol? Don’t ask, you’ll suffer more.” We suffer for order.
For order we suffer.
“We are held hostage in someone else’s head…and in the end…and in our own. Regret will only get you ugly in the end.”
She considered the device currently slipped within a little zippered pocket inside her purse: plastic, glass, semiconductor chips of silicon, and rare earth minerals molded and arranged into a slim rectangle of circuit boards and a touchscreen with a friendly graphic user interface…”a friendly gooey.” Contemplating all it was capable of—all of its known, numerous applications, the ones she hasn’t figured out yet and the ones she didn’t care to—she asked herself:
“We’re already living in the future…aren’t we? …Or as far as this future is gonna go, really. From here-on-out and for awhile now it’s all just restatements of a theme. Sure with a few innovative variations and tempo changes thrown in to keep us back-slap-smiling, ‘gee–whiz, how neat, this cutting-edge changes everything! Science will save us!’ But, shouldn’t we be somewhere else. Shouldn’t we be building biodegradable citadels for music, poetry, or, hell, a cathedral for aromatherapy…anything else really? All I see is thinner televisions. All I see are more heads bowed towards screens.
“Geez-Louise, I sound like an old lady…’back in my day we didn’t have all these fancy smellular phones and wifi-telebones, we had to use a drum!’…but…Shouldn’t we be busy with some other great work by this point? Why do we all feel excused from this? Why are so many of us excluded from this?
“Didn’t they tell us so long ago that we’ll be taking it easy from here-on-out? Aren’t they still selling that line?” For far too long now we’ve been trapped in this false landscape of muscles and dollars, this unsustainable sham of a one-way line stretched unhindered towards infinite and plastic futures—attributed to Darwin, healthy competition, and hard-earned progress. “Everything always backed by Darwin.” All those that suffer or benefit from the drought and locusts of a debt market so that a ham and cheese sandwich wrapped in cellophane might exist on some chain-restaurant’s theme-park counter could always seek solace, dismissal, and script in the arms of Saint Darwin. She felt sad for all those slighted people with Holy Daddy and/or Holy Mommy issues: who smugly announce themselves as atheists; who declare with a moral superior air, “I believe in science.”
“Yeah…well who doesn’t?”
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——————————-(Click to Listen or Download)—————–
================____==== \^/ ============ === _ ===== == = == = __ – _>My translation, feel free to comment if youv’e got a better one:
Little girl that always has a light
showing you what you do not want.
Do not fear the birds
if they say your life with their trills.
It should be that you understand;
that’s why what comes next is what has gone.
Always in a white dress,
you go but beware;
The devils in the guise of angels
will notice you talking.
Does it shame you that you don’t care
what has been soiled?
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- Zeno’s Law Of High-Heeled Shoes – Jim Carroll
- Numbers – FKA Twigs
- Rich – Yeah Yeah Yeahs
- Forty Days & Forty Nights – Muddy Waters
- Every Season – Tony Allen (ft. Damon Albarn & Ty)
- Wonderwall To Be Here – George Harrison
- Lost In The Woods – The Afghan Whigs
- The One-Eye Two-Step – The Blackbyrds
- Me And The Devil – Gil Scott-Heron (Robert Johnson cover)
- The Water – BLKHRTS
- Misbehave/She Might Get Shot – Juan Wauters
- Cocaine Habit Blues – Memphis Jug Band featuring Hattie Hart
- Yassassin (Long Live) – David Bowie
- Ysabel’s Table Dance – Charles Mingus
- Black Skin Blue Eyed Boys – Equals
- Breed – Nirvana
- She Said She Said – The Beatles
- When Your Number Isn’t Up – Mark Lanegan Band
- Good God’s:// Urge! – Porno For Pyros
- I Know We Could Be So Happy Baby (If We Wanted to Be) – Jeff Buckley (TheSpaceBubbles mix)
- Farewell, Angelina – Bob Dylan (Bringing it All Back Home outtake)
- Niña – Eduardo Mateo
_ _ _ __========================================= ______BOBBY CALERO
If you dig the mix then please feel free to pass & post it along; if you dig a particular artist then please support them and go out and pick up some of their albums.