Weekend Warriors, Bread And Butter Hunters
Written by DJ Mandrews on October 16, 2015
You put your cleanest dirty shirt on, then you stagger down to meet the dawn. You take a ride upon a bus, it’s just a fuss. You know it keeps you born, you get to know a morning face, you get to join the human race, you get to know the world has passed you by. In the liquid he will lie, rehearsing for the final act of dying.
The unchanged and the unchangeable, doing the zombierama, singing:
“O Come and Be Like Me, We’re All Sisters and Brothers.Our task is reality, our aim is reality. From reality we draw our breath. From our wishes we get our will. We need all our wishes to become true. So they will become true. We need to eliminate those who try their best to stop our wishes becoming true. Those who try to close the window into our faces. Open the window and let our souls fly free. Let us get rid of the bomb.
“We ask those who are versed in alchemy, cosmic orgone, paraphysics, tesla, pshycotronics, ultra-relativity, twistor-application, G-strain energetics, zothyran physics, fourier trance formation, psionics, bio-synthesis, fan shih, quantum-physicks, tanmatra-transmission, para-vidya, eluthery, laelia-aelia,gur-preparation, enantiodromy, lein-tan, pao-pu-tsu, chin-tan, chandrakala, urheka and mega-mathematics to assist in the most supreme transmutation: that of uranium and other radio-active metals into giving, not taking forces. Laymen and priests of all beliefs and credos and invited to lend their mind to this experiment. Scan out your brothers and sisters and link up now.”
Calling all you whoop-de pretty things, shining in your freedom come and be my rings. Cover me with loving in a bundle of joy. Do I care to show you what I’m dreaming of? Yeah, I came to play and I mean to play real good. Every little baby knows just what I mean: living in division in a shifting scene. I am the ugly lover, you’ll find us rolling on the dirty floor. Break my body, hold my bones. Hold my bones. All your dreams will come true; all my dreams came true. But now, I have a bunch of other dreams. I felt so salty free, I dropped my gloves into the stove. Hymns echoed out the grate. I fell in love with those electric lights that drug me into town so late, to nimble, cunning, clever nights. I railed behind them, deputized to scrape the lens of Christian eyes. I’m a Friday night girl, bracing for Sunday to come.
Please could you stop the noise, I’m trying to get some rest from all the unborn chicken voices in my head. Ambition makes you look pretty ugly, kicking and squealing gucci little piggy. That’s it, sir. You’re leaving the crackle of pigskin, the dust and the screaming, the yuppies networking, the panic, the vomit, the panic, the vomit…..
Jah loves his children.
Jah loves his children.
(When I hear that trumpet sound, I’m gonna rise right out of the ground. Meet me in the middle of the air, and if these wings don’t fail me I will meet you anywhere.)
the uncanny valley presents:
xtc / oysterhead / the slits / siouxsie and the banshees / kukl / the stooges / pixies / sonic youth / neko case / easy star all-stars / tara cross and stefan tischler / frank zappa / sister rosetta tharp