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Monthly Archives: November 2010

A Saturday musing and a piece of music

So I’m reading a story on rawstory.com about Mark Ruffalo, the indie actor, who has found himself on Pennsylvania’s office of Homeland Security terror watch list for organizing screenings of the movie “GasLand”. See: rawstory.com/rs/2010/11/zodiac-actor-terror-list-drilling-method/

Is this a sign of the times or what?

The article has me humming a song. Now here is the real innate attraction of art, be it painting, music, film – the artist says his piece from his perspective and it means whatever it means to him, but the viewer (or listener) brings his own history to the table and finds that the piece applies to his own life in a whole different, perhaps startlingly different, way than the artist’s personal meaning. Unintended universality.

I understand David Byrne was thinking about Patty Hearst when he wrote this, but look at these words again today, not so long, really, since he wrote them.

“Life During Wartime” – Talking Heads

Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons

packed up and ready to go

Heard of some gravesites, out by the highway

a place where nobody knows

The sound of gunfire, off in the distance

I’m getting used to it now

Lived in a brownstone, lived in the ghetto

I’ve lived all over this town

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco

this ain’t no fooling around

No time for dancing, or lovey dovey

I ain’t got time for that now

Transmit the message, to the receiver

hope for an answer some day

I got three passports, couple of visas

don’t even know my real name

High on a hillside, trucks are loading

everything’s ready to roll

I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nightime

I might not ever get home

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco

this ain’t no fooling around

This ain’t no mudd club, or C. B. G. B.

I ain’t got time for that now

Heard about Houston? Heard about Detroit?

Heard about Pittsburgh, PA?

You oughta know not to stand by the window

somebody might see you up there

I got some groceries, some peanut butter

to last a couple of days

But I ain’t got no speakers

ain’t got no headphones

ain’t got no records to play

Why stay in college? Why go to night school?

Gonna be different this time?

Can’t write a letter, can’t send a postcard

I can’t write nothing at all

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco

this ain’t no fooling around

I’d love you hold you, I’d like to kiss you

I ain’t got no time for that now

Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock

we blended in with the crowd

We got computers, we’re tapping phone lines

I know that that ain’t allowed

We dress like students, we dress like housewives

or in a suit and a tie

I changed my hairstyle so many times now

don’t know what I look like!

You make me shiver, I feel so tender

we make a pretty good team

Don’t get exhausted, I’ll do some driving

you ought to get you some sleep

Get you instructions, follow directions

then you should change your address

Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day

whatever you think is best

Burned all my notebooks, what good are notebooks?

They won’t help me survive

My chest is aching, burns like a furnace

the burning keeps me alive

Try to stay healthy, physical fitness

don’t want to catch no disease

Try to be careful, don’t take no chances

you better watch what you say

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Posted by on November 27, 2010 in security state, Uncategorized