(Atlanta, GA) As a young rocker Sam Hariss (The Sweet Things) heard Izzy Stradlin doing “Crackin’ Up” and it stuck with him like an earworm. He later discovered Izzy himself was doing a cover of “Crackin’ Up” by Bo DIddley (1959). So he decided to get together with Tobin Dale (The Sweet Things), head into the studio and do their own version. To round out the song, they enlisted an army of stars to play on their nod to Bo Diddley.
Appearances including Taime Down (Faster Pussycat) Danny Nordahl (Faster Pussycat, Motochrist, The Throbs) Ricky Vodka (Motochrist) Joey Huffman (Georgia Satellites, Drivin’N’Cryin, Soul Asylum) Charlie Paxson (has recorded with James Blunt, Ricky Lee Jones and many more)
“Americans have an unhealthy cult-like worship of the very politicians and political parties who are actively using our government to enrich themselves and their corporate donors. Enough already. Stop consenting to the corruption, fraud & abuse of the Democrats & the Republicans.” (-Ryan Knight)
“When the heroes have all died away. Priests and politicians have all lied away now. Actors after all were only acting. Church killed knowledge. Took the world a slave. Ya gotta walk have all lied away now. Wear the uniform of your gang. Purpose in life’s just for living. Dream merchants fantasy surreal so real. Divide and conquer – that’s their game. Beneath their haircut and clothes we’re really all the same. They threaten our lives with nuclear war. Gonna cruficy us just once more. Join the new church. Be a lord of the new church hey. Truth can’t be found on the television. Throwaway youth ya gotta take a stand. Music is your only weapon. Spanners in the works go start your gang…” (-Lords Of The New Church)
“People these days leave propaganda on in the background like it’s elevator music” (-LEE CAMP)
“They all take their pills and they never question why…” (-Stiv Bators)
“TV talk show shines a light in every window we drink the water and it tastes like medicine, wakeup, wakeup…” (-Richard Butler)
“A provision in Obamacare allows residents in areas deemed a public health disaster to be covered by Medicare for life. At the very least, East Palestine residents deserve this universal coverage after being exposed to a known carcinogen.” (-Krystal Ball)
I WAS NOT EVEN DRINKING, BUT OBJECTS JUST GO SHAMBOLIC HAYWIRE ALL AROUND ME. ALWAYS WITH THE CHAOS & ANOTHER BIG BILL TO REPLACE SOMETHING.
So there I was, getting ready to feed the cats and make some coffee, bleary eyed and cold, about five in the morning. I commenced to put my kid’s big hoodie on over my head-the hood hit the overhead kitchen light’s chain, heavy chain flipped up and hit the glass light shade, and two pieces of broken glass landed in my rat’s nest hair. It’s an expensive, posh, high pricetag, decorative fixture, that’s kinda how my life goes, nowadays. Ya know, what is the opposite of attraction? Revulsion. Opposite of gravity? The ether? I’m like King Minus-everything I touch just vanishes right before my horrified eyes. Ya start to feel worse than cursed, just like some kinda fuckuped klutz. I’m just trying to feed cats and I get glass in my hair. Extreme winds blew down the art garden and all the fences, the dead tress, and half the town-there’s pictures online of people’s roofs blowing off and trampoline’s rolling down the sidewalk. Desert living is a trip, when it’s not cold as fuck, it’s blazing holy shit, lays you flat down hot. It’s intense monotony and ancient quiet always jabbing you with omnipresent reminders of your own mortality, or it’s sudden monsoons and hail and hold on cause there’s no tellin’ what’s coming next. the government shooting feral cows on state lands from helicopters for no reason, where are all the Animal Rights People? I fear for my friends in Ohio and Pennsylvania breathing in all that toxic shit Mayo Pete’s being deployed to provide cover for.
I’m only ’bout halfway into “Rebel Soul”, but I’m really super jazzed about it. It’s SO good, even the acutely painful parts are written with so much soul and sensitivity, you get through it and are right back into the dancing days of Max’s Kansas City and the NY Dolls, when the Lower East Side was the Greatest Show On Earth and not just a gated community for millionaires. If you know me, you know I learned everything from the Lords Of The New Church, Billy Idol, 70’s Aerosmith, Suicide, the NY Dolls, the Cramps and Alice Cooper, so her first person testimonies of being right next to David Bowie while he is watching the NY Dolls performing live, and he is calling Thunders his Raven Boy, all that stuff is just so dazzlingly priceless, mystifying, magical, a real decades later vicarious thrill for us devoted lifelong fans of all those stardusted dolls. Bebe has become quite the eloquent and of course, always elegant, entertaining raconteur.
I guess, besides Stiv, the biggest thing I have in common with Bebe Buell is my ongoing, abiding, lifelong desire to record and perform my own music on my own terms, so I empathize with her in that regard. I’ve always been a fan of hers since I was a dumb kid, loitering around a burntout, pickedover old used record store in a soybean town, flipping through yellowed old “Rock Scenes”, I guess. I love reading about her stories, memories, desire to love others and uplift people, I feel like I can relate to a lot of this book even if she’s some kinda celebrity super starlet and I’m a bum luck dropout hermit in the desert. I can feel her wanting to set things right and make a difference in her time. I can dig that. I got that, too. That pulsating urge to wanna fix and repair and nurture and heal shit. Wow, what a blast she had! As I write this longwinded column in the dawn’s early light with my first cuppa coffee of the day, I got the curtain cracked in front of me to keep watch for stray cows who keep fertilizing my yard. I don’t mind ’em at all, I got a shovel and a compost pile, but I’d like the see ’em, this morning. I’ve arrived at the point of the book where Bebe is letting David Johansen and Cyrinda Foxe crash at her and Todd’s palace while Todd is on the road, and she’s hanging around with Alice Cooper’s girlfriend Cindy Lang who is buying cool threads for Johnny Thunders, and you know, already, that’s a whole lot of what I have been grooving to from afar, my whole life. Dolls, Alice, Stiv, John Waite, Dee Dee, Duran, Idol, Steve Jones. I’ll probably say it again, but wait til ya see the pictures-just beautiful. I’m a visual, visceral creature, so like when summa my old photos of friends and loved ones who are “no longer with us” go missing, it makes me a little bit extra crazy. Gorgeous, fun filled, action packed little hardbacked scrapbook here, all her anecdotes are adventuresome and then abruptly arduous, a real rockin’ roller coaster, all highs and lows, whoa! I know how that is, as in my younger lives, before retreating into deep caregiver domesticity, I had a sorta smaller version of her escapades, an amateur hour, no budget, demolition joyride through the eighties Lower East Side ghettoes and pauperized pregentrification Boston backstreets with larger than life girlfriends and junkie desperados, playing frantic punknroll with a wildeyed ever changing band of battle hardened bandidoes, gutter punk bassplayers, loutish drummers with age-inappropriate girlfriends, oversized Cats N Boots lookalike guitar gods in polka dotted blouses showing the ACD/DC guy how to shootup his first day in town, squating in desperate squalor with aging gunslingers of the Old Eastside, meeting Martha and Siv when I was just fourteen, or maybe fifteen as a guttersnipe on St. Mark’s Place, playing all the lousiest, least receptive, hostile bars with revolving crazies on the drumseat, where sudden fistfights might erupt at any moment of the song, long rides to no show shows, brokendown vans, side of the road, beautiful girlfriends and champagne nights at expensive bars with white table cloths, then we’re back on the streets like we didn’t miss a beat honaayy, but not in a good way. Black eye, and a bleeding eyebrow, punched by another jealous Fonzarelli apeman. New guitar player, promising record label, all gets shot down again for no reason, kids, divorces, bikers, dangerous roadcrew having standoff with the Swat teams, mutiny, abandonment, death, death, death, waking up in emergency rooms after showdowns with boneheads, hanging out with sons of famous rockstar new wave darlings cavorting at our favorite divebar, the next night I’m getting knocked out by nazis in steeltoed boots and losing my favorite navy blue suede, Thee Hypnotics style, 70’s hunting jacket in the ambulance, so for me, it was a lot more failure, exile, destitution, violence, evictions, false hopes getting dashed again and again, replacement bandmates quitting suddenly to join some other guys fucking submediocre coverband cause he can pay for studiotime and plane tickets, rejection, heartbreak, betrayal, and missing teeth than jetplanes and movie stars, but then again, I’m a scuzzy old semi reformed reprobate power to the people politico streetpunk who used to wear way too much makeup everyday in unforgivingly conservative zipcodes and an oversized shagged, winklepicker wearin’ former and future glamarchist frontman for an intensely intoxicated, sneering crew of black leather clad, empty pocketed, derelict Zodiac Mindwarp imitators; not a centerfold, actress, or charmed life beautiful, super successful model, but still, maybe it’s jes cause we like all the same kinds of music, but I always felt I had so many parallel universe connections to Bebe Buell, being as how my first real big influences as a glammy wouldbe rocknroll frontman in my young teens were Stiv Bators and Richard Butler, I’m a diehard Duran Duran fan and JT is one of my fave bassists along with Pete Farndon and Dave Tregunna, Patricia Morrison and Tony James. I’d have to ask my friend Angie who has a better memory than I do about which bands we saw play what bars but I’m pretty sure I first saw Das Damen at the 7th Level nightclub in Ft. Wayne, when we were sixteen or seventeen, it’s a bit hazy cause all those bars and cities kinda blur together thirty five years later, my young life’s one big fast forwarded whoosh now of throwing up in different people’s bathrooms and playing really embarrasingly crummy shows with metalheads and crusty punks in different towns up and down the line and never getting to make real records, but Bebe’s married to Jim from Das Damen now and has been with him as long as I’ve been with my old lady. Bebe talks about the perils of being a public figure, ‘even a social media presence now, and how there are always some naysayer hater critics saying you suck for some reason, while others find you a source of nourishing, lightning bolt inspiration. She talks about how everybody knows which songs Dylan wrote about Edie Sedgwick, but he later changed his mind and coldly denies her. Elvis Costello does that kinda stuff, too. Cat n mouse stuff, three card monte. Look, I have every faith Bebe crept into one of his songs, or the others, who cares which ones, exactly, I mean, she floated through some of my own tunes and I never had no affair with her except of course in my lively boyhood imaginings. So we all know how Elvis Costello and lotsa other people probably wrote songs about her, and how she dated Tyler, Bators, Butler, Rundgren, John Taylor, Rod, etc, but I was always skeptical when she figured Prince had to have written “Little Red Corvette” about her, in spite of it sounding like he sings, “Bebe(!!) you’re much too fast”, being as how two or three various women he actually knew and dated in real life are said to have inspired that song, including Vanity according to Lisa Coleman, Susan from Vanity 6 who he knew since high school, right after “For You” had come out on Warner Brothers, and another lady he dated by the name of Mi-Ling Stone Poole.The woman behind Little Red Corvette Speaks! – YouTube.
Anyways, I got that Bebe Buell “Cover Girl” lp the Cars played on when I was a teenager at an old hippie record store in a small rural town and vibed with it instantly, I was probably 16–then, I steadily started seeing her pictures in the pages of my favorite magazine “CREEM”, with her wearing an Oscar Wilde shirt and I really dug that, and like all the other boys, I pinned all her pictures on my wall right next to my pinups of Jane Wiedlin and Chrissie Hynde and Joan Jett and the Clash. So yeah, I always loved Bebe. I thought she was a super cool entertainer and loud, wild wonder to behold. Man, me and a fella from a short-lived Detroit based musical operation I had in my early thirties even wrote a kinda Stonesy country song together called, “CREEM DREAMS”, about all those pinups we taped to our basement bedroom walls and funny as shit writers like J Kordosh and Rick Johnson and their always brilliantly deadpan captions. It was good, that song, I just never got to lay a real vocal down, but it was like in the same spirit as Lone Justice, X, Steve Earle, or Jason & The Scorchers, and the lyrics were about our rocknroll dreams of glory that never go away if you’re “Condemned To Rocknroll”. Bebe and Lemmy say you’re never too old to rocknroll, I’ve been through the wars, so like my knees are fucked, two fingers don’t work properly from two different assaults, my hands shake and I’m blind as a bat, but part of me is still sixteen, so ya know, I got that very same brutal calling. I feel it. Ya know, Strummer said “some dreams are made for childeren but most grow old with us”. I remember talking to Beebs on the phone when my ex wife was ditching me cause I was not commanding her kinda salary and my band was not taking off, and Bebe was being astonishingly warm and reassuring and supportive of me. I always liked her, as I said. I used to have a signed copy of “REBEL HEART”, hundreds of old “Creem” magazines, a signed copy of Johnny Rotten’s book, a Prince “Purple Rain” movie theater standee, all kindsa books, records, leathers, boots, Creepers, and other cool shit, but it all got lost or stolen during one of those dreadful can’t keep the lights on eviction eras, ya know I was broke and semi destitute and don’t drive, and some people had come and ransacked my old shit. I was overjoyed when my kid handed me an envelope and said, “look, dad! You got something in the mail!” and of course I’m thoroughly delighting in this beautiful read, it’s a heavy, heartfelt book, Bebe’s wild ride through rocknroll alongside the cultural vanguard of the sixties, seventies,and eighties, she was there for all the peak moments, inspiring all the most talented songwriters and blasting out her own unique brand of underground garagey punknroll. She was there when Rundgren was producing the Dolls. She was there for every bit of everything. Her love stories are gutwrenching sometimes, summa her counterparts were much older and not as kind or genuine as they might’ve been, but she’s pouring forgiveness on everything. I feel for her, I really enjoyed reading her interactions with Cameron Crowe who based summa the characters in his much loved movie, “Almost Famous”, at least in part, on his on tour experiences while on the road with Todd and Bebe. Again, though, Bebe is very gracious, passing all the popularity of the muse character Penny and credit back to Cameron and Kate Hudson. I still listen to her stuff with the Gargoyles, “Retrosexual”, “Bored Baby”, “Top Of The Pops”, all of it. It kinda sucks how McDonna stole Bebe’s iconic phrase, “REBEL HEART”, but that’s what McDonna does and everybody sez it’s okeydokey, cause she’s the one with all the money, The Head Cultural Appropriator In Charge, I guess. I’ve been bored with McDonna since her pilates and bodies song. I liked her early dancey stuff but “Material Girl” kinda said it all, about who and what she is. At least she told us upfront. Not my thing, though. No Thanks.
This path blazing tastemaker, Bebe Buell, was sometimes over sensationalized and tabloid exploited, from her bigtime 70’s modeling days, through her high times with famous faces, Bebe kinda sometimes still feels obliged to overexplain the whole patron of the arts/music lover/girlfriend of the stars/punkrock star in her own right/understandably cringeing at the derogatory phrase, “groupie” at the start of the book, but gives props to other people who cheerfully self identify with that label, which is again, remarkably sensitive and gracious and characteristically commendable Bebe is always cool like that. For former Eighties kids like me, it goes without saying, that there’s no mystery why people like Jimmy Page or Steven Tyler, or Mick Jagger, Joan Jett, or Deborah Harry and Chris Stein, or my friend the spectacularly talented guitar star, World Famous Mister Ratboy, would want to creatively collaborate, socialize, or otherwise keep company with Bebe Buell, as she’s gorgeous, intuitive, courageous, nurturing, and all good vibes. I looked for one of my old interviews I did with her a long time ago but it seems to have fallen off the internet, which is why it was more gratifying to have a column in print media back when the Murkkkan rock press had not yet been dismantled. I seem to recall I was trash talkin’ my teenage idol Tyler for consenting to do that NFL halftime show with Britney Spears, quotin’ his lyrics about “corporation jelly roll…and where the hell’s my royalties” and Bebe immediately defended her baby daddy, saying he was always a joker, and if I knew him, I’d know he was just having a ball being an entertainer, being himself, that it was not really a sellout move, at all. I thought it was real, real cool that Bebe spoke so highly of that dude behind his back, ’cause he kinda was not really that active in their lives for a long time, and she details how they were both torn and always conflicted about it, when she rushes to his defense when some greasy punk, smartass fanzine writer starts questioning his integrity, it just speaks to how compassionate, loyal, and forgiving Bebe is, really. I still have another old cassette tape, where I talked to her in depth about another one of our mutual friends, a different guitar player of some renown I was suggesting she play with, and she had a lot of real emotion and concern over the brother. She’s good people, as we say, Down South. If you got a place to live and can afford books, this one is a doozy, it’s even better than her last one, and you’re gonna wanna order your copy right away. The color pictures will blow your mind. I mean really, it is like an underground movie! What a story! Just fantastic! Reminds me how I hope to retrieve my longlost scrapbooks from my ex wife one day, if she even still has ’em, cause I still wanna publish my version of “Rebel Soul” someday soon, maybe even before I croak. I got an old glam rock anthem from one of my strictly persona non gratis, long disbanded, flash metal suicide goth gangs called “Rebel Kiss”. I wish you could hear it right now, it’s pretty Generation X/Hanoi Rocks influenced.
An uptight, bigtime famous photographer took offense when Bebe discussed her intimate relationship with Todd in her first book and has retaliated against her by hissing gossip and by gloatingly holding old photos for ransome. Even going after innocent fans who repost her pictures of Bebe online. Rich people get crazy, man. The petty, unforgiving power trips are beyond the beyond. These old pictures are a model’s first ever nudes. Oh, man. That hurts. I was friends with a famous Warhol white shagged Detroit photographer in my late teens, who was not only cool and stylish and beautiful, like a badass model and a badass artist, who took the best studio pictures of me ever, ever, ever, on New Year’s Eve when I was maybe nineteen and 120 lbs. of androgynous snotnosed revolution rocker pure rebellion, her best friend was a world class makeup artist, so what they did together was totally beautiful high art, those old glam rock photos, and back then, we were all close friends, she is who first hipped me to that Alice Cooper song, “Caught In A Dream’ and also, Iggy Pop’s “Pumping For Jill”, so you know I felt in her deep debt for that, but sadly, as the years went by, somehow, she became ultra extremist rightwing conservative, and decided she could no longer be friends with me, or even sell me copies of my old pictures because I am so obviously Not That, but she always knew from Day One I was poor and “radical leftist” way back when she used to come visit me at my rundown old bandhouse, so I can relate to Bebe’s early nudes being captured by a vindictive former friend. That’s happened to me with old song demos, too-somebody kept custody of them and refuses to give ’em back, I lost my only copies while doing most of the footwork for both of us, shopping for a record deal. People are needlessly mean, man, it’s all about their own agendas, a deathgrip on their egotrip, just reciting the slogans for the yesman entrouge, trying to own and dominate everything even though life is passing by right this moment, they won’t be able to keep a bit of it either, really-it’s just delusion. I don’t get it. What is up with people? I think they’ve all been conditioned to become really surly and selfish by all that greed is good topdown corporate programming. I mean, we all know showbiz aint for the faint of heart. I used to watch “I Love Lucy” reruns at my Avon Lady grandmother’s feet and they were talkin’ bout showbiz being the domain of shysters and hustlers and no heart sharks, way back in the fifties, way before I was born, but man. I’ve seen people change for the worse, a whole culture, en masse. Basic things we all agreed to, that we all established years and years ago, have been rolled back and undermined by the bad people upstairs. It’s harrowing stuff to behold upclose though, and terribly hurtful when it’s the ones you thought were your most precious friends and former loves. Bebe talks about her time with Playboy and how she has only love and compassion for all the people who experienced the dark side of that enterprise, but did not have any of that stuff happen to her, or see it going on, when she was present. The weird part of receiving this book unexpectedly is I had just picked up a VHS copy of a Liv Tyler movie I’ve never seen called “One Night At McCool’s” at the second hand store. I like Matt Dillon, so I’m looking forward to watching it. I did not know how much it’s a nice day to start again positive energy I was going to receive by simply reading this new Bebe Buell book. Another aspect I really identified with is how she still leads by example, showering all these characters from her past with so much love and mercy and understanding, praying for everybody she loved, and always remembering the good times and seeing the blessings. I totally get why a sequel to “Rebel Heart” was required. I penned my own memoirs ten years ago and it was all written from a naieve place of wanting to honor everybody’s public images and seeking reconciliations with all the heroes and villains, and not wanting to make anybody’s parents uncomfortable. Now, I see it all differently, just because some people are capable of admitting wrong and tendering sincere apologies, owning up to lapses in judgment, carelessness, youthful indiscretions and out right selfish misbehaviors, others have no regrets and have not always done any real self inquiry or self reflection, and probably do not even think about the damage they cause, and might be rarin’ to inflict more abuse, so I’ve become a lot more neutral detatched from them, a lot more distant, I don’t know what pills they’re on, or what they do with their lives. Bebe is in a happier, more stable place now, but she went through a lot of struggle and heartache to get there in spite of all the glamour and rockstar limelite. I think the coolest part is how she’s finally found that true love she was always looking for, and is still making music of her own. If you love “New York Times Best Selling Author” Bebe Buell, you’ll wanna get this book. HoZac Books is where all the best rocknroll is now. I hope she writes a third one! I’ll probably be writing more about her book in my next column. She’s very, very insightful.
*BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR: UNGUARDED MOMENTS: Backstage & Beyond- Photography by Theresa Kereakes on HoZac! PEACE IS A DIRTY WORD, SHE USED TO BE OUR PAINTED BIRD YEAH
“The Democrats are a lost cause and anyone who still thinks that the party can be changed from within is not being honest with themselves and not paying attention to who the party works for, which is Big Business, the ruling class, and the military industrial complex. Just in case you haven’t figured it out yet there’s no end to this corporate fascism from the DNC. They will push Harris in 2024 and then Buttigieg in 2028 or 2032. They will ALWAYS rig their primaries against the most progressive candidate and for the corporate backed candidate.” (-Ryan Knight)
IF YOU BELIEVED IN FREE SPEECH & A FREE PRESS YOU WOULD BE USING ALL YOUR POWER & INFLUENCE TO HELP FREE JULIAN ASSANGE!
Middleclass trusters of commercials always kinda come after me when I critisize Democrat policies from the left, they are so impossibly trained like yipping little lapdogs, to just unconditionally worship any fucked up policy or politician so long as they put a Big D behind their name in parentheses and do lots of cloth mask photo ops with people of color giving thumbs up on red carpets. That’s all they gotta do and shitlibs will greenlight any extremist rightwing policy with gusto and zealous blind faith. It’s easy peasy and the marketing arts people do it all day, everyday. So called progresives fund super rightwing John McCain and Lindesy Graham and Mitch McConell shit everyday, and their fans or stans as the young people call ’em, only care about the feelings and trauma of their sellout AOC and Obama celebrities, never poor people. Certainly no poor people they grew up with, LET ALONE poor people in countries being targeted, bombed, or sanctioned by their capitalist overlord philanthropy gawds who they still sadly think of as caring and nurturing Scientists. When Israel wants to bomb Iran, they trot out AOC to tell the middle class it’s all for LGBTQ rights and feminism. If you don’t support that war, you must be a sexist and a transphobe who needs cancelled. Shitlibs don’t remember anything about Flint or the BP eco-ruin of the Gulf, or how Hillary and Obama crucified Libya and laughed about it, they just remember how AOC was traumatized by Qshaman and Trump said if you are rich, “they’ll even let you grab their pussies” to Billy Bush. That’s all they really recall, and that Brad Pitt played Dr. Fauchi on SNL because Dr. Fauchi was a SAINT. A SAINTLY SCIENTIFIC SAINT FOR SCIENCE! SCIENCE, itself. And one should never question Science. Or some shit like that. Orange Man Bad, Blame “RUSSIA!” Never mention Israeli’s open influence on Trump administration, just keep saying, “Putin”. Have you noticed how a lot of these Grub Hub and Amazon delivery shoppers do not seem to be real deep thinkers, beyond, like what wine to buy at Trader Joe’s or what kinda colored tile or sandblasted bamboo glass shower door design they wanna put in their outdoor garden hot tub area of the Hipster Chic Airbandb? They just buy shit and buy shit so they never have to think about mortality, or the fragility of all things, at all. Call that democracy or some shit. Enlightenment-they all say they are enlightened. Something to do with owning shit and inheriting privilege. It is a pet peeve of mine, how the born lucky motherfuckers are the ones sitting around their big compounds talking all their mad, mad shit about how people just like being homeless and sick, and it’s their karma, and how virtuous they themsleves are, with their snow white compounds and cocaine and Buddha statues and proper genteel college updated newest fad madeup words lexicon. “VOTE BLUE, EVERYBODY!”
I’ll always remember 9/11 as they day my ex broke up with me, said we were not compatible, took my kids, moved ’em to the other side of the country seeking an ever more privileged propertarian hipster gentrification lifestyle in scenic Honkytopia. A big divide happened between me and all my more upwardly mobile friends who were invested in the system, or who inherited wealth and understood how they benefitted from obediently parroting the conventional wisdom of the day which was of course, “those dirty Muslims are a comin’ with their boxcutters and Sharia Laws to steal our freedom fries and good jobs and health benfits, so we better all go buy more duct tape from Tom Ridge’s Home Depot!” There was the big spy on your neighbor campaign,”SEE SOMETHING/SAY SOMETHING!”, except Julian Assange and Chelsea Manning—NOT LIKE THAT! Bush/Cheney rolled out all their stay scared Orange Alerts bullshit, they put spooks in the mosques and all the eager beaver pledge of alleigience people just thought that was wholesome and okeydokey. The people who were playing along with the story that somehow, Saddam Hussein was in cahoots with Bin Ladin, so now the war machine had to bomb seven countries for freedom and those of us who knew the empire was a bloodthirsty shitshow became ever more incommunicado with the gotmines and hut twos who fall for every fucking media blitz. The shit havers all got onboard with the steady fearrmongering Y2K! MAD COW! SHOE BOMBER! ANTHRAX KILLER! BIRD FLU! MAD DICTATOR WITH WMDS! RUSSIAGATE! of corporate media, that was bullhorn pummeling us all with propaganda around the clock. Always rolling out the supposedly woke and diverse POC to sell us some farfetched fuckedup lies for war. Condolezza, Colin Powell, Obama, the Squad, this Jeffries guy. The darker hued faces of the same old honky empire. They said they had to kill Saddam’s sons, because they were decadent richkids who lived in opulent splendor, kidnapped and tortured dissidents and killed suspects without trial, with all their oligarchal unearned privilege. Nothing like W and Cheney and Kushner and Trump and Hunter Biden. Saddam’s sons, they were decadent richkids who lived in opulent splendor, kidnapped and tortured dissidents and killed suspects without trial, with all their oligarchal unearned privilege. There were those of us who saw the King, W, who HST called “our goofy child president” was barely capable of reading his goat book to children, and those who believed Oprah when she brought on Laura Bush to explain how the imperial war machine was only bombing the piss out of Afghanistan for 20 years not for control of the minerals and opium, but because George Bush and Dick Cheney loved Muslim women so much, they were such sensitive feminists who only wanted to improve their quality of life and liberate them with big bombs and rough men with scary guns collecting their son’s fingers as trophies, and brutally occupying their ACTUAL “home” lands for twenty years. It was all for women’s rights and feminism, and non binary vegan options, they never stopped saying that about anything. Virgiania’s Secret? It was all for women’s rights and feminism, they insisted. People love that shit. It’s seldom real, though. Always serves some hidden agenda.
We all got happy for a minute about Obama, but he was a trojan horse for the bankers and military industrail complex, expanded the Bush/Cheney forever wars based on lies, signed the NDAA allowing for domestic psy ops and extrajudicial assassinations and indefinite detentions of disssident jornalists without trial, and the sleepy crowds who were told they were the woke ones went wild for it. Classy and Woke, Woke and Classy, they repeated that bullshit for years on end, branded anybody a racist or a conspiracy theorist who questioned the morality of droning weddings and funerals, or someone who would brag about double tap droning ambulances coming to try to save some of the casualties, or classiness of a fella who was knowingly bombing hospitals. They told us the country was split between people who only cared about protecting their right to abortions and transgender access to restrooms, and people who only cared about protecting their exclusive right to own big guns and aim guns at protestors everytime the police killed some more black people. The rightwingers want to be allowed to run people over with their cars at demonstrations they disagree with. Komfortable Kalltha Kops Karyns want the right to get you snuffed out by the jackboots if they don’t like your unsightly appearnce in their gentrified neighborhoods. It got a lot zanier after all that. The people wanted Bernie Sanders to become the DNC candidate, the DNC said fuck ya’all, we don’t work for you. Here’s Gropey Joe. The people who believe that the Patriot Act and the warrantless wiretapping laws were all sitting on the shelf just coincidentally are the trains on time people, the tv believers. So what remains now, are the majority who seem to go along with the bullshit program, and the rest of us who are conscientious objectors. To me, those are the real factions, not red versus blue, or right versus left.That’s an outdated paradigm, for sure. It’s those who think some scary Muslims and pinko commies keep attacking and attacking peaceful and democratic, liberty loving, free press Murkkka and her innocent friends Israel, KSA and the Ukraine for no reason, unprovoked, because they are mad dictators who are willing to use chemical warfare against their own people. And those of us who understand that all these bullshit wars and undemocratic fix in is elections, controlled media, granny gropers and pornoscanners in the airports, mass wiretappings, and always new rules censorship rollouts were always for Halliburton, the Carlysle Group, Blackwater and Blackrock, Pfizer and Raytheon, they were never for feminism or transkids rights. The capitalist empire did not grow a conscience all of a sudden, and that’s why it’s overnight okeydokey for the white people to smoke the legal reefer,and dress all their school kids in pink wigs. There’s always some some other backhanded, back room cigar chomper’s devious shit at play, whenever some kinda non stop goose stepping drums of war repetition messaging comes bleating through every media platform, at once. You can not trust the billionaires or war profiteers to be your loving saviors. As Erin Brockovich says, “Superman is not coming!” The Davos billionaires are surveillance-tech, biowar gain of function, Georgia Guidestones depopulation control freaks who DO NOT LOVE YOU. See anybody fixing the water in Flint? Obama could pay for that outta his own pocket, or Oprah, or probably Hunter Biden. Nope, best we can do is Trump will buy some firefighters, sick people, and cops some hamburgers, at McDonalds in Palestine. People on the right think DeSantis, a known Gitmo torturer cares about their human rights. There is no left left in the USA, USA after 25 years of crazy media brainwashing, and corporate capture of the DNC, but the affluent classes who still self identify as liberal and progressive tell themselves Lyn Cheny is a really nice person because she is against protests and dislikes Trump. Kamala is a mass incarcerator, Mayo Pete is a spook, AOC is controlled op Pelosi Jr., we poor people have no representation at all here. Bernie is working for Pfizercare. He sold out his own Revolution. It’s such a drag, voting won’t change anything. We got to organize our own little communities, why the fuck do you think the government wants us to register our motherfucking gardens now? That’s batshat Scrooge McDuck daffyduckery.
*HA! You know how when you’re young n drunk you think you’re like, the only one, and way more important to everyone than you really are? When I was but a wee pink leather struttin’ gutter urchin in poorly applied blue eyeshadow, I had convinced myself “Johnny Too Bad” was about me, rather than Blitz gettin’ stabbed, that’s how ceaselessly vainglorious I was in my untamed youth. The Lords Of The New Church-Rockpalast Show 3 -Johnny too bad – YouTube
EMPIRE POLICE STATE WITH THE COINTELPRO, CONTROLLED MEDIA & CONTROLLED OPPOSITION
Whether you think the problem is big government (R) or big business (D)’s Pre-Clinton, now it’s all Trump or Russia, the real issue is that since the crooked Supreme Court Citizen’s United ruling giving more rights to corporations than actual citizens, big business and the goverment, Vanguard and Raytheon, Blackrock and Pfizer, Pelosi and Schumer, Cheney and DeSantis, nowadays, they are all one in the same. That’s why we call it fascism. Rich people have class solidarity, poor people are kept in a cable fed hypnoslumber debating meaning less bullshit, Coke versus Pepsi, Red pill or blue pill, Call now! Truth is, poor people have no say, no real representation. “When members of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe led protests against the 1,172-mile-long Dakota Access pipeline in 2016, thousands of people traveled to North Dakota from across the country in a historic display of solidarity.
Then came the crackdown. Pipeline opponents were attacked with dogs, tear gas, and rubber bullets. At one point, protesters were shot with a water cannon in freezing cold weather, sending people to be treated for hypothermia and other injuries.
Dakota Access owner Energy Transfer hired TigerSwan, a private security firm led by a former commander of the elite Army unit Delta Force. That firm conducted aerial surveillance, monitored communications, infiltrated activist circles, and coordinated with law enforcement agencies.” (-The Intercept who is not to be trusted with advocating effectively for truth tellers-they are owned by a billionaire, therefore probably controlled op, just like all the rest, AND they want donations to investigate corporate crimes. Status Coup is on the ground in Palestine reporting on the toxic mushroom cloud right now. Look for their youtube channel for updates)
“I reject the claim that my past reporting on The Intercept are “conspiracy theories.” The outlet has a lot of explaining to do for closing the Snowden archive, leaving the vast majority unpublished, + after 3 of their whistleblowers were sent to prison due to reporter negligence.” (-Whitney Webb)
You think Mayo Pete and Gropey Joe are gonna hold Norfolk Southern accountable for the intentional burn in Ohio? It’s owned by Blackrock.
“The truth is Ukraine would have been far better off if the U.S. and NATO respected Russia’s security proposals in 2021.
It isn’t controversial to demand NATO not expand up to Russia’s borders. If you disagree, you’re a warmonger. Imagine being a country that’s bombed several countries, killed millions, armed several countries that impose brutality on millions more, and is now lecturing China on the potential of sending “lethal aid” to Russia.
That’s the U.S. right now. A clown car of a government.” (-Danny Haiphong)
“If you’re anti-US empire but are allergic to criticising the DoD role in major aspects of the Covid disaster, I have a hard time understanding why. Some of us were vocal about it while it was happening and your silence years after the fact is deafening. Wondering how many of the people talking about the Wuhan Lab today have noted that the Pentagon was funding lots of those activities via EcoHealth. Probably not many, since most also avoid the Pentagon’s outsized role in the disastrous Op Warp Speed.” (-Whitney Webb)
“What if they created a virus that killed millions only so they could make billions by also creating a vaccine? Asking that question should not make someone an “unhinged conspiracy theorist” after the Department of Energy admitted today that Covid likely came from a lab leak.” (-Ryan Knight)
Beasts Of Bourbon – Cool Fire (1990)Music from Australia and New Zealand during the 1990’s: Beasts Of Bourbon’s promo-video for the track ‘Cool Fire’ taken from the 1990 album ‘Black Milk’. Note: For better sound quality, add &fmt=18 at the end of this video’s URL. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ Beasts_of_Bourbon ——————————————- NZOZ NZOZ1990’s …www.youtube.com
Black Moses – Strange Life.Track 7 from the 2002 CD “Emperor Deb” Label:Lunasound — LUNA007CD James Jones – Vocals, Guitar Graeme Flynn – Bass, Vocals Chris (Mad-Boy) Buncall – Drums, Vocals With Tony Bevan – Sax Produced By Graeme Flynn And Jim Jones Recorded At Emperor Deb, N.Yorks All Songs By Jones, Flynn, Buncall Except 8 And 12 By Jones, Flynn, Buncall, Denton …www.youtube.com
Veglam 