Burning Spear - Christopher Columbuslink
David Manqué • Ask a Question • RSS • archive
Anonymous said: I know you like Sun Kil Moon's "Benji", but why is it such a big deal to a lot of people already?
It’s because I think about death all the time, especially about people I care about dying. That’s where I’m at in life. From here on out, people are dying left and right. And at this moment just the act of witnessing seems important. Who died and when. That’s what I need to know. Makes me think of this poem, which I like a lot.via markrichardson • link
People Who Died
BY TED BERRIGAN
Pat Dugan……..my grandfather……..throat cancer……..1947.
Ed Berrigan……..my dad……..heart attack……..1958.
Dickie Budlong……..my best friend Brucie’s big brother, when we were
five to eight……..killed in Korea, 1953.
Red O’Sullivan……..hockey star & cross-country runner
who sat at my lunch table
in High School……car crash……1954.
Jimmy “Wah” Tiernan……..my friend, in High School,
Football & Hockey All-State……car crash….1959.
Cisco Houston……..died of cancer……..1961.
Freddy Herko, dancer….jumped out of a Greenwich Village window
Anne Kepler….my girl….killed by smoke-poisoning while playing
the flute at the Yonkers Children’s Hospital
during a fire set by a 16 year old arsonist….1965.
Frank……Frank O’Hara……hit by a car on Fire Island, 1966.
Woody Guthrie……dead of Huntington’s Chorea in 1968.
Neal……Neal Cassady……died of exposure, sleeping all night
in the rain by the RR tracks of Mexico….1969.
Franny Winston……just a girl….totalled her car on the Detroit-Ann Arbor
Freeway, returning from the dentist….Sept. 1969.
Jack……Jack Kerouac……died of drink & angry sickness….in 1969.
My friends whose deaths have slowed my heart stay with me now.
kalipedia said: Can I ask how Blue changed your life, if you don't mind talking about it? Because I sort of feel like it changed mine too, but I've never been able to put it into words that don't sound ridiculous to me.
via johndarnielle • link
Well, I’d love to, but honestly, the level it still reaches me at, after years — years! — of knowing every note of it, of no longer living the sort of life about which Blue speaks, of not being the kind of seeker by and for whom Blue was made but the grown person who that seeker becomes, its consequent, its Hejira or Night Ride Home; after years of being a person for whom you’d think Blue would be a memory, however fond, instead of a living text, ever-fresh, vivid as it was the night I bought the tape (“The Nice Price”) someplace and brought it home to my tiny studio apartment in Norwalk; after all these years, still the only way I really know how to talk about Blue is to sort of just get out a notebook and start writing
I am on a lonely road and I am traveling traveling traveling
in huge letters, or
Just before our love got lost, you said
hard enough to scratch through the page, or
Child with a child pretending,
weary of lies you are sending home:
so you sign all the papers in the family name
you’re sad, and you’re sorry, but you’re not ashamed
and then just sit there completely wrecked, singing “you’re sad, and you’re sorry, but you’re not ashamed” and thinking let me write a line like that before I die, let me keep that shining beacon in sightwhile remembering that when she’s writing Blue she’s basically nailing two or three lines like that per song
Probably the best album of the 70s according to me; the only one of the major 60s Acts Everybody’s Dad Thinks Are Great who made a record I put on its level is Pink Floyd (Piper At the Gates of Dawn).
“The lyrics of “Peaches” discuss a man moving to the country to eat vast quantities of canned peaches at no cost to him. Briefly mentioned is the hard-working American man who cans the peaches in a factory downtown. The narrator also speculates that a finger sized hole in a singular peach may hold an ideal hiding spot for an ant. He then warns the listener; “Look out!” he calls. There’s a finite number of free peaches for him. Luckily, that number is in the millions.”via daveshumka • link
RIP Don Pardo. Take it away, Frank!link
The Flammarion engraving is a wood engraving by an unknown artist, so named because its first documented appearance is in Camille Flammarion’s 1888 book L’atmosphère: météorologie populaire (“The Atmosphere: Popular Meteorology”). It has been used to represent a supposedly medieval cosmology, including a flat earth bounded by a solid and opaque sky, or firmament, and also as a metaphorical illustration of either the scientific or the mystical quests for knowledge.
Rickie Lee Jones - Chuck E.’s In Lovelink