Wednesday, May 17, 2006


Sorry all, I know I've been promising a new post but life gotten interesting all of a sudden. I started a new job Monday and my older sister has been ill, just no time to do John Reed the justice he deserves. Check back Saturday night, and if you care to leave suggestions for future posts inside. Please do not grow disgusted and abandon me :( . If you care to leave a comment or question I do have time for those :) . Thanks.

8 Comments:

Blogger durrati said...

Hey all. Here's the adress of a Spanish visitor who recently commented on the Miguel Hernandez post. I don't habla but the site was visually stunning...

http://elburdeldelasrimas2.blogspot.com/

6:01 PM  
Blogger KidKawartha said...

It's official. You are now the owner of a world-wide blog, durrati. ;) Keep us up to date on your sis and do what you need to do.

6:05 PM  
Anonymous WhattheH said...

Ditto, what Kid wrote. I'll miss you, but will be back Saturday to check. Hope that everything is going to turn out righteous.

10:19 PM  
Blogger durrati said...

Thanks kid and whattheheh, my sister's stomach lining is inflamed or something....been staying out at her place in the boonies in the evenings....

4:54 AM  
Blogger Joe Don Martin said...

Espero tu hermana es bueno, Senor. How 'bout that pidgin Spanish? I, ourselves- they's anywhere from five to fourteen separate but sometimes equal folks within these rounded walls looking for a corner to piss in, which, as you would imagine, is like predator drones buzzing around under the Sistine Chapel dome like angry dirt bikes in the Globe of Death like the embelfried bats of yore in triplex simile from 667(across the street from the Beast), "we" is busy entertaining the notion that Ann Archy is blood kin to Ann Elk of the "Little/Big/Little Theory On the Elusive Brontosaurus" fame. Hmm? At this flat-panel window, through which "we" surveil the hoi polloi, it has come to "our" attention that Guiseppe Fanelli, an Eyetalian, was brought to Espana on the Bakunin World Anarchy Tour in the 1860's, surely for some nefarious purpose beyond traipsing the Spanish countryside. Too, "we" have come to the awareness that Angel Pestana was a friend of Durutti who may or may not have been a "Syndicated (Fifth) Columnist", perhaps along the lines of the feminislamofascists Dowd and Ivins though most probably not as "he" was allegedly male though no intimate knowledge of his naughty bits remains extant though a quick once over of his skeletal remains by the eminent Temperance Brennan has established the masculinity of his pelvic girdle though the "Cross Your Heart/18 Hour" branding of said girdle throws a spanner in the works vis a vis gender identity and calls into question the real or imagined existence of one, "Ned Ludd", who may have made works-spannering a universal phenomenon once in the hands of the "One Hundred Monkey Typewriter", Edward Abbey(pbuh). This makes "us" suspect that Ofjoedon may, in fact, be an Anarchist and, at the same time- given her enormous monthly depilatory bills, a bonobo, though one of "us" happens to be a '30's throwback "Hobo" which makes the two of us ideally and homophonically suited for our nightly Country AND Western song improvisations:

"I'm proud to schtup Bonobos as a Hobo*.
(Me and You and A)'Dog Named Blue' was sung by Lobo.
My old lady looks like the Dixie Chick who plays the Dobro.
(Or I pretend so)
And I'm proud to schtup Bonobos as a Hobo*."

* should not be sung- by those wishing to remain manly- with a stuffy nose lest the audience infer some sort of homosexual bestiality in the rhinovirus-induced speech impediment. Nor should it ever be sung by Charles Darwin as he is dead and that would imply reanimation on top of evolution and make the Fundies heads explode.

~end transmission

11:15 AM  
Blogger durrati said...

Ah, another joedonitude for my collection!
Your fractured (s)elfs elbowing at the porceline is an image I will struggle to free from my regret. I missed the "Bakunin" world tour by some years but am much amused by your recounting of it. It would take a thousand words to do your tightly wrapped commentjustice, and I am sleepy. But be sure I will reread later...Thank you for filling my slack with your prose/poem...a beauty!

9:37 PM  
Blogger Joe Don Martin said...

Last night, I happened to catch John Prine on Austin City Limits- just thirty short minutes of his radiation ravaged voice and those laser concise lyrics and i had to tune back in tonight to watch it run again. "Paradise" was the first song I ever learned to play, and then, to play and sing. I still think these are a couple of the greatest lines ever written;

"Well, sometimes we'd travel right down the Green River
To the abandoned old prison down by Airdrie Hill.
Where the air smelled like snakes and we'd shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill..."

Course it helps that I know where Airdrie Hill is and that I used to shoot my own pop bottles from the Damascus Rd bridge where the Chestatee River ran through my Grandmother's farm.

10:00 PM  
Blogger durrati said...

I love the refrain:

And Daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg county,
Down by the Green River, where Paradise lay.
"Well I'm sorry, my son, but you're too late in askin'."
"Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away."

Prine is an American original in the vein of Woody Guthrie, Hank Williams and Bob Dylan. I bang on the gitbox myself, though badly, and "Dear Abby" is a favorite on camping trips.....

3:05 AM  

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