the darkerside to rants

Once a label is on something
It becomes an it
Like it’s no longer alive

It’s like a loss of vision
Or some dark impression
Or a black spot on your eye

If it’s up to you
My little sweet baboo
Through the shouting and the fever
Think of life as queer
Think of it my dear
And some knobs or a fancy tone
From here there is no reason
Baby’s got it made
But it’s not what the life’s about

What is imagination
May become a fact
If we think of it that way
If you want to know

I can tell you now
Oh if you make it through somehow
Or is it best to keep or fall to sleep
it isnt looking very good to me
from here

Hey
He’s distressed and I forget
I don’t wanna know cause I forget

He’s distressed and I forget
I don’t wanna know cause I forget

He’s distressed and I forget
I don’t wanna know cause I forget

He’s distressed and I forget
I don’t wanna know

I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
What do, new york
Couples fight about
Brothers gonna work it out
(Baby’s got the bed sheet)
How do
(That was under you)
New york
(When your time and life expires)
Couples Fight it out
What these couples fight about
(Keeps it in the closet)
What do
(Keeps it to herself)
New York
(She should throw the damn thing out)
Couples fight about
But this gonna work it out
(Why should you continue)
How do
(To shake it off)
New York
(Would you write things on the wall?)
Couples fight it out
What these couples fight about
(You could make it hard)
To be
In the shouting you will see
Or is it best to change the world you’re keeping
Down again
Hey

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget

Such is the sound of sorry
Without the shy report
or the grips that could hold you down
(just when things were looking up you act just like a horse’s butt)
Everything was simple
but the body’s worn
Got the life spread on the ground
(Powder pink and general, the kitchen sink, a funeral)
Every loving other
Don’t you fade on me
Like a bomb that’s about to blow
(Often we will overlook the things that make it undercooked)
We can make it hard
Or we can take the world apart
Or you’d never be that sure
Of the simple things that makes you want
To cry, again
Hey

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget
He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget
He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget
He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know, I don’t wanna know

He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget
He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget
He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know ’cause I forget
He’s distressed
And I forget
I don’t wanna know, I don’t wanna know

Morcheeba “What New York couples fight about” (feat Kurt Wagner)

[Currently listening to: Otherwise from the album "Charango" by Morcheeba]
Okay, obviously once the heart stops beating we are physically dead, but I am talking more about the “spiritual death” for the lack of a better word.

Now i am not really talking about an after life (I do not believe in one) but rather about the spiritual death.

I once read:

As long as someone remembers us we are still alive.

I like this sentiment, I would say we could go a bit further: As long as something we affected in our (physical) lifes is still around we are still alive.

Now that is the human component, but what about the “Ghost in the Machine”? Information about us is stored in a myriade of computer systems. What I am writing here right now, these ideas will most likely exist in a digital form longer after I am physically dead. Does that mean I am still alive? Or is this a bit like “Does a tree make a sound if nobody hears it fall?” question?

We leave bread crumbs of our existence in so many computer systems these days, that really all it needs is the ability for someone (something) to remember us we have already achieved immortality.

So what’s the verdict? Are we all eternal now? Or will we all just disappear once our heart stops beating and we expel air from our lungs for the last time?

I am not sure if you remember Tim Burton’s “A Nightmare before Christmas” and the design for the puppets he had. The long, thing legs on which their tiny bodies where perched?

Well, wishing now I had the camera with me today, I saw a real life version of this, and man that was a scary discovery. Standing at the light I saw a girl was by, saw her from the side first and thought she that I must be seeing a mirage as her legs were so thin that I could have mistaken them for stilts, but they obviously were her legs. What didn’t help was that she was wearing a very puffy North Face Jacket and has a bulging backpack on her back.

But it was scary, not only did her legs look like one of the Tim Burton characters but she also moved / walked like one of them, how someone can have legs like these and still be alive is a mystery to me…..

[Currently listening to: Distance from the album "Weltreise" by Schiller]

When operatives of the Priory of Semen discover that Leonardo Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa using his own sperm, a group of young hotties get embroiled in the mystery that finds them seeking the master’s bodily fluids at all costs. Such is the yarn woven in Hustler Video’s The Da Vinci Load…

Any bets that this may be even better than the blockbuster with Tom Hanks? I mean the book was horribly written, I have no desire to watch the movie, but hey, any takers out there?

(via Warren Ellis)