Time Wounds All Heals, And I May Be It This Time, So This Round To You But The Game Is Far From Over

I watched The US vs. John Lennon last night. Good flick. I admit I don't know that much about him, never having dove headfirst into Beatlemania, but it seems he had a bit of a Messiah Complex. Which, hey, good job, I say. If more people had Messiah Complexes, and weren't, you know, sociopathic, but went around getting millions of people to chant things like "All we are saying, is give peace a chance", I might have more hope for humanity. Anyway, the movie focused on the part of John's life where he evolves from a moptop into a political activist, and the US government's attempts, under Nixon and Hoover, to intimidate and have him deported.

As an aside, one thing that struck me in this movie were the bits of Government propaganda used to support the Vietnam War in those days, and how similar... no, how identical they were to our present day Nixonish regime's propaganda. Lord, we need another Messiah!

One thing that troubled me about the whole incident was something G. Gordon Liddy said in the film. John Lennon was a British citizen, living in New York under a visitor's visa. It galled G. that a foreigner, who loved living in the US and enjoying the freedoms that our National forefathers provided would dare to criticize the US war policy. "If you don't like it, go back to Britain", was the sentiment. And, as anti-US policy as I am, it sounds like a good point. As a US citizen, it would be supremely galling of me to go hang out in London and criticize the Blair administration for it's part in the Iraq war, wouldn't you agree?

Where it breaks down is here. The favorite Republican slogan, said off-camera, of "Shut up, or get out" is so twisted and unAmerican that anyone who says it and believes it, and even worse uses it as a policy making idea, ought to be the ones that get bitchslapped. I feel that, something that is often not thought about in those circles is that America was not a nation founded on religion, or borders, or policy. It was founded on ideas of equality and human rights, regardless of where you come from or who you worship or what kind of hat you hang on your coatrack in the evenings, and as such should be able to stand up to the critical eye of truth, or survive the attacks of lies, whichever Nation the mouthpiece hails from. Obviously, America failed that test in Vietnam, and we are woefully failing it again in Iraq. When the powers that be try to silence people, regardless of their citizenship, it means that they're scared. George Bush isn't scared, which means that Peace & Love and all that hippie malarky has no champion this time around.

Okay, getting off my high horse now, whom I've named Lennon.

Well, I've been "tagged" by Miss Luongo, and when such an august persona as she tells you to write something, you do not decline. I have been told that I must blog about my answers to the questions in the following category: Things I Know By Heart. Before I continue, I feel I must offer the disclaimer that although this rather feels like one of those emails you get with a list of half-questions such as: Favorite Color? Most Embarassing Moment? Second Favorite Movie? etc... and you answer them and reply to everyone on the mailing list, additionally sending it to five new friends, who in turn have to answer, it is not. One of those emails, I mean. First off, it's not an email. It's a "tag you're it!" blog game. Secondly, I was tagged under the geas of Buffy the Vampire Slayer metaphors, and seeing as I'm such a starstruck fanboy when it comes to Buffy, I must oblige. It's like when religious people invoke their deity. God told me to do it, amen! Well, Buffy has commanded me, via her latest acolyte Miss Luongo, and the power of the Slayer compels me.

Man, sometimes when I write things, I realize how lost a cause I really am. Anyway, moving on.

Things I Know By Heart:
Two Novels/Poems/Plays: What am I, Abraham Lincoln? When I was in the sixth grade I was in a play called Snow White and the Six Dwarves. There were only six because Smiley went to Hollywood to do toothpaste commercials. It was a stupid play. But I knew my lines by heart, does that count? I hate poetry. It seems to me that poetry is a cheap economical affected way of saying things in a misleading manner. Say what you mean, dammit! I understand that it's all supposed to be pretty, and in the old days a good way to make chicks weak in the knees. But, give me a good novel any day. I don't know any novels by heart though, that's ridiculous. So...

Love guppy

			You mean all the world to me.
			Without you I can't be free.
			You make me pant considerably.
			You're my love guppy.

			You have the finest rosebud's taste.
			Without you my life is waste,
			I'll stick to you like Elmer's paste.
			You're my love guppy.

			I'd break through a citadel.
			I'd fight with a raging bull, 
			Though winning would seem improbable.
			You're my love guppy.

			My love's as strong as the mid-ocean ridge.
			You shine like the rainbow bridge
			or like that light inside my fridge.
			You're my love guppy.

			For you I'd consume haggis,
			or lose the joys of Bacchus,
			or live in sin with Mike Dukakis.
			You're my love guppy.

			No time's too long for me to wait.
			For you, I'd fight against Fate,
			though maybe you could lose some weight,
			You're my love guppy.

			Without you, I'd be not whole,
			I would have to sell my soul,
			or gulp a quart of Tide-E-Bowl.
			You're my love guppy.

			My passion is always mounting.
			I'm like a geyser founting.
			Well, maybe not, but who's counting?
			You're my love guppy.

			The love that is the more intense
			always has the most silence,
			like quiet bursts of flatulence.
			You're my love guppy.

			I know that my love is true.
			I know that you'll love me too,
			or I'll hold my breath 'till I turn blue
			You're my love guppy.

			I'd not forget you if I tried.
			You make me all warm inside.
			My love's as pure as Naugahyde.
			You're my love guppy.

			Then I hear the words let slip
			From betwixt impatient lips,
			"I want to have a relationship.
			You're my love guppy."

So I don't actually have it memorized, but that's poetry!

Two Films/Television Shows You Can Quote From:  Well that's easy. The Kids in the Hall. The funniest show ever made, and I quote from it on a daily basis. If not out loud, then at least in my head, because if there isn't someone else around who knows the show as well as I do, it's not funny. For instance: "Well I think the great leader is some sort of twisted ass freak!" Or, "I'm crushing your head!" Or, "I'm not being sarcastic." And, not to be too obvious or anything, but you had to see it coming. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Cordelia: "So, does looking at guns really want to make you have sex?" Xander: "I'm 17. Looking at linoleum makes me want to have sex."

Two Songs To Which You Know Every Word: Actually, I have a real problem with this. I don't know any words to any songs... at least, you know, not if the song is not playing at the moment so I can kind of stumble along with it, and that's only if I am extremely familiar with the music already. It's a serious mental block. I'm sure it has something to do with my disdain of poetry. When there's music on, I don't actually really ever pay attention to the words, which shocks my friends to no end. But, like I tell them, it's the music I care about, not the wooing of women by post-pubescent songwriters. Even when I really like the lyrics to something, I never commit them to memory. But having said all that, Scott, being so distressed over my handicap, saw his solemn duty as my best friend to teach me a song, and after days of practicing, (I'm not joking. Days.) I got this one down:

Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago, and it went straight to my head! -From JAWS.

Two Dishes You Can Make Without A Recipe: My Mom's special cheesecake, and tacos. If I buy the kind that come in that little yellow box.

Two Cities You Can Navigate Without A Map: I'm going to take this opportunity to be snotty about how well-travelled I am. Munich, Germany. Because I lived within an hour of it for six years and it's actually one of my top 2 favorite cities in the world. I spent alot of time there. The Hauptbahnhof (main train station) is one of my favorite parts of the city and makes a great starting point.
And while it may seem boastful considering what a maze the place is, but Venice. Because it's also one of my top 2 favorite cities and I've been there about 7 times, and because I know all of the major points and I don't mind wandering around it's back alleys lost for a few hours until stumbling upon a place I know. Actually, that's one of the most pleasurable activities in Venice. The other is riding the vaporetti (boat buses) around all day. San Marco piazza is sublime, too.

By the way, if anybody needs a personal tour guide, you know, I am totally for hire. For those two cities, or any other place I've been. Or not been. I'm really good at travelling.

And An Extra Question–What’s A Date You Always Remember, and What’s A Date You Always Forget?: This is the silliest question and reminds me more of those emails I was talking about than the other questions. But, the power of the Slayer compels me regardless, so, I always remember Christmas, because even if for some reason I didn't want to, the retail community makes sure that I don't. And I don't know of any dates I've forgotten, otherwise they wouldn't count as answers to this question, would they then? That was a very British answer in honor of John Lennon. Peace out.

Here's a picture of me in Prague which I thought of posting here because of the inherent personality-typing implicit in the tag questions. It's supposed to be mildly snarky. Probably it's narcissitic. Damn you, Myers-Briggs!

Comments

[spanky]

I am touched. You willl be famous to me now.

tacos out of a yellow box. i cant get my head around it. you amaze me.

[Julie's Friend Jenn]

The fact that you can bake a cheesecake from scratch without a recipe impresses the hell out of me. That's not an easy thing to do. I know. I've tried.

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

You. Are. A. Culinary Guru. Dang, I've never even considered tackling the yellow box. Bold move. One I don't intend to take. Not in this lifetime.

A note on Lennon: I don't that much about him either, but one of my fave songs is "Strange Days." Hold on. I have to sing for a minute.

(Strange days indeed!
...do ..da..doo ...do..
Most peculiar momma! Dah..da..dah...do....nier...nier...nier..)

Dang it. I forgot my point on Lennon. Shoot. I had one. I know I was thinking of....nope. It's gone. Meddling song. Curses!

[messiestobjects]

Nobody told me there'd be days like these...

[messiestobjects]

And about the cheesecake; My Mom used to make it every year for my Birthday, because it's the best damn cheesecake ever. So, when I had to strike out on my own, to conquer the world and earn my fame and fortune, I made sure to take that recipe with me, so I could always make it on my Birthday. Don't be too impressed though... it's the no-bake kind. Really very easy.

The tacos though... until they began printing the instructions in large colorful font for the culinarily challenged, those things were a bitch.

[Christy]

"Could I have just one hand free? How much trouble could I get into with just one hand?"

[Christy]

"I can't stop thinking about Tony. Wondering where he could be, who he is with, what is he thinking, is he thinking of me, and whether he'll ever return someday."

[messiestobjects]

"Hey, don't I know you? Didn't you take me to a Leafs game?"

[wolfboy]

It's only 'from' JAWS because it's *in* JAWS. Here's the bit you didn't memorize:

Wherever I may roam / by land or sea or foam / You'll always hear me singing this song / Show me the way to go home

Now, quit playin' with yerself, Hooper!

[messiestobjects]

That part's not in the movie. Olly olly oxen free!

[wolfboy]

Well, the shark acts up before they can finish the last line, but I'm not going to waste my time arguing with a man who's lining up to be a hot lunch.

[messiestobjects]

Who's lining up to be a hot lunch? Anyway, they sing that verse like six times... I don't think they were ever going to get around to this mystical magical 2nd verse you keep jar jarring about.

[wolfboy]

Love to prove that, wouldn't ya? Get your name into the National Geographic.

[wolfboy]

Y'all know me. Know how I earn a livin'.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=97RSuv8hroc

[messiestobjects]

Um. I just wanted to give you the opportunity to be right about something. I knew that, totally.

Right, well, obviously this only proves that my deal with music is as I said it was... I just don't pay attention.

[Gary]

I too hate poetry. I found out that I hated poetry after I took an american lit class that Heather was also in. Let me just say that this shit about having your own interpretation of a poem is apparently totally wrong. Your interpretation can be very wrong. Chances are if your interpretation isn't the same as Heather's then you're wrong. At least it is to the dorky professor. I do care a lot about lyrics though. I find it hard to like a song if the lyrics annoy me - but I do just enjoy music for it's own sake. I'm perfectly fine with no singing whatsoever, or singing in another language or singing that is just mouth sounds.

[Heather]

G, just because you doodled in your notebook the whole class doesn't mean the professor was a dork. No. OK. He was a total dork. But I can't help being the darling of English Departments, can I? No. No, I can't. And if it weren't for certain other of my teachers, I'd never have been a writer. So, you know... Where the hell is that time machine?

[Christy]

hot lunch. hahaha.

[spanky]

well....i dont know what to say.. this tagging nonsence reminds me of all the "how weel do you know your friend" emails I get at work that I refuse to respond to. because I am too stupid to figure out how to copy paste the question portion of their email to make my own little "favorite color"
"diamonds or pearls" yes there are the questions.

Mine would be like this ( if i wasnt as lazy as I am and actually make one) Mike i dedicate this to you

1) spicey clam or old spice?
2) morning pooper or nite pooper
3) wipe till yer clean or three wipes and done?
4) blog in the nude or just with a scarf and socks?
5) Place youd really like to get arrested or assulted in.
6) Why is ham pink and why isnt there grape icecream?

thats all for now...can you hankle it mcsmartypants/

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

OK, let's clear up a few things here.

First, Spanky needs to go back and get some hot lunch in high school where I am assuming we all learned how to TYPE! Although, would it really be Spanky if we could actually read her comments versus decipher her comments? A lot like poetry, eh?

Which brings me to my second thought for the day. I am not a fan of poetry, either. The kicker is that I used to be a poet. For a while, I was engrossed in poetry. Then for another while, I was only engrossed in my own. And now, even my faves don't do it for me like they used to. I still enjoy Nikki Giovanni because she wrote about the 70's in a way that reminds that I was there while all that shit was going down. (Dogtown Rules!)

Third issue: It's Michael McPickypants until further notice.

[spanky]

ok let me just clarify this for all you haters.....I paid someone to do my typing worksheets. I passed that class all on the shady side of things. so there.

[Heather]

Yeah! Don't hate the player! Hate the typing game!

[spanky]

Thanks heather, I can always count on you to support my poor hand motor skills.

[messiestobjects]

1) spicey clam or old spice?
au natural man musk pit sweat

2) morning pooper or night pooper
that's intensely personal.

3) wipe till yer clean or three wipes and done?
Umm... if you only go 3 wipes and not until yer clean, it is my intention to never ever come within 50 miles of you.

4) blog in the nude or just with a scarf and socks?
Please feel free to use your imagination. It's probably better than the reality.

Or maybe not.

5) Place you'd really like to get arrested or assaulted in.
I was once arrested by an idiot US Marine Sgt. Major in Baghdad... that was actually a lot of fun.

6) Why is ham pink and why isnt there grape icecream?
Why isn't there ham flavoured ice cream?

[Dr. Teeth singing] Can you hankle that?

[messiestobjects]

Oh, and, I like being called Michael McPickypants... because it reminds me how smart and choosy I am, so there. It don't bother me at all.

[messiestobjects]

Hey Gary, welcome back. Tag you're it. Please answer Spanky's questions... preferrably in Iambic Pentameter. You too, Saranne.

[Heather]

Well, mothereffer, I can't even get tagged here? What has the world come to? Looks like for the good "tagging", I'll have to go to adultfriendfinder. I hear they've got dorky boys in flightsuits on there, but it's probably just a rumor.

[spanky]

hmmmmmmmmmm sometimes when i am on this blog i have trouble figuring out who is saying what....is the name above the comment the one who said it?

as for the wiping thing...stern's butt dr told him three wipes and no more for a healthy bunghole.
just sharing my vast hinee knowledge.

hame icream would be stupendous.

but seriously..no grape this is odd i think.

i suspect they tried it once and it ended up looking like vomit or soemthing and no one would eat it.

michael mcMustypants.

hahahahahahahaah

[messiestobjects]

Heather, you blew up your blog. Getting tagged only works if you have a blog.
But... since Spanky doesn't have one either, and she posed the silly questions... have at it!

[Heather]

Oh, yeah. DAMN!

[Heather]

Well, I do blog on the MySpace, but tweren't no one looking at that except perverts. Hm. No. I'm on a tag strike until KC completes her assignment. DOWN WITH TAGS!

[spanky]

I am a roving parasite blog. i invade people's otherwise classy blogs. heather can be my sidekick.

[Heather]

Spadinkadanks: this blog has never been in danger of "having class". Or is that Gary's? Wait. Where am I? What's going on? Besides, we need to get these comments up to 100. You know, because there's nothing better to do.

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

1) spicey clam or old spice?
Oh, an ode I declare to old spice there.

2) morning pooper or night pooper?
Within the dawn I release and am cleansed.

3) wipe till yer clean or three wipes and done?
Within all that is left unsaid, undone;
Anal orifice debris, diminish!

4) blog in the nude or just with a scarf and socks?
With no cloth about me, Sketzie I am;
Bones and shards of inner being pertrude.
No mere muffler and knit booties will do.
Skin and bone require cloak and cover.

5) Place you'd really like to get arrested or assaulted in.
No place have I gone and left innocence
As a gratuity at a host's door.
I whisper the peril of confinment
To urban macadam, under night skies.

6) Why is ham pink and why isnt there grape icecream?
I will take no part in jest of swine's hue.
Cool and creamy is but a mere pleaure
Upon my buds that yearn for nothing more
Than the soothing relief of black cherry.

[Heather]

Oooh, finger snaps!

[Heather]

"Woman. WHOA, man. WHOAAAAAAAAAA MAN!" - Mike Myers

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

Snaps from a song-writer I will take on!

Oh, I guess, I can lose the pentameter.

[messiestobjects]

No, don't lose the Iambic Pentameter. In fact, I declare that since you're so awesome at it, every other comment that you make on my page must forever more be in Shakespeare's preferred cadence!

Seriously, that was effin' cool.

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

I shall carry on this folly no more!
The pleasure upon my breast has decayed.
It sucketh the lifeblood from this marrow.
Therefore, to the meter, I say farwell!

[Miss Luongo]

Whoa, Saranne! Awesome.

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

It's the little things in life that keep my head above the water.

[Miss Luongo]

Oh, hey, Michael. Nice blog. Thanks. I love the poem. Oh, how I love poetry. The angstier the better.

[spanky]

all this mamby pamby poetry is making me queasy.

[spanky]

not much happening here

[messiestobjects]

You're my drunken mamby pamby guppy, spanky.

[Miss Luongo]

I like the Michael Mystery picture. It's more cheeky or goofy than it is snarky or narcissistic. You have a similar picture in your smug mug collection where you're mimicking a statue...goofy, dude.

[SaranneFosselmanMiller]

What? SHE gets a pet name? I am writhing with jealousy. Green, I tell ya. Green head to toe.

Yes, Julie, you're right about the photo. I knew I had seen it, or something like it from somewhere else. I must have stumbled upon it in Michael's (please note the use of his proper name) smug mug site. Michael's photographs are awesome!

[Heather]

"Drunken Guppy" is a Lucinda Williams song, I think.

[Heather]

I thought it was Mont St. Michel at first glance because the poster reads "The St. Michael Mystery". Then I Googled that thinking it was a play or something, but found nothing. Nothing! I had free time. Not alot. But a lot.

[messiestobjects]

You can be Iambic Sarannemeter. Be green no more, little Shakespearette.

And I'm not sure what that poster is about. My friend Chief and I stumbled drunkenly upon it one night long, long ago on a Prague Pub Crawl, and it seemed much funnier then than it does now. If it's supposed to be Mont St. Michel, it's a weird scary techno version of it! I think it may have been a play or something.

Anyway, not important. What's important is that it made Miss Luongo call me goofy. Now I have to kick her ass.