“And the meanings that get left behind.  All the innocents lost at one time.  We’re all different behind the eyes.
There’s no need to hide.”  Marvelous song.

I Am Mine

The selfish, they are all standing in line
Faithing and hoping to buy themselves time
Me, I figure as each breath goes by
I only own my mind

The North is to South what the clock is to time
There’s east and there’s west and there’s everywhere life
I know I was born and I know that I’ll die
The in between is mine
I am mine

And the feeling, it gets left behind
All the innocence lost at one time
Significant, behind the eyes
There’s no need to hide
We’re safe tonight

The ocean is full ’cause everyone’s crying
The full moon is looking for friends at high tide
The sorrow grows bigger when the sorrow’s denied
I only know my mind
I am mine

And the meaning, it gets left behind
All the innocents lost at one time
Significant, behind the eyes
There’s no need to hide
We’re safe tonight

And the feelings that get left behind
All the innocents broken with lies
Significance, between the lines
(We may need to hide)

And the meanings that get left behind
All the innocents lost at one time
We’re all different behind the eyes
There’s no need to hide

I’ve come to recognize an unflattering character trait in myself:  I become uncomfortable when someone’s knowledge in any domain is not a subset of my own.  Usually this leads me to study rather than pretend — usually — but, still, kind of icky.

So, if you were wondering why I know large amounts about a vast field of subjects I have no real reason to — something multiple people have brought up recently — that’s the primary answer.

That’s also a bit more than I’m comfortable admitting anywhere.

Readers know I obsess about songs from time to time.  And, oh man am I obsessing over “Miles Away” by The Corin Tucker Band, from 1,000 Years.  The whole album is stunning, but this song is transcendent.

Miles Away

New moon peeking through
Now the sky is brand new
Feel it on my skin, is it night or noon?
It’s been the blackest night for quite some time
Since my love left with that heart of mine
It kept on ticking, I don’t know why

(Chorus:)
Now this rock bottom hurt has a whole new feel
It feels like the moon since I saw you here
And the light that comes from your face
Brightens this place
Tell me who needs a sun when it goes away?
It sets on me every single day

Darlin’, I’ll get my light from a star who is miles away

If I look too long will I lose my place?
I get caught staring into space
You see, my dear, there’s much I’d like to erase
It’s later now, my eyes adjust
Ooh, what a pretty boy he was
Pretty is as pretty does

(chorus x 3)

Today, walking home:

Teen-I-don’t-know: Werral d’weed at?

Me: What?

Teen: Werral da weed at?

Me: Where all the WEED at?

Teen: Yeah. How much you got on you?

Me: Um … none?

Teen: But you got your Rockstar [Energy Drink].

Me: Yeah. It’s good shit.

Other teen: We’re gonna go get some right now!

Me: Weed?

Other teen: Yeah.

Me: That’s … good.

Teen: See ya!

You thought I had stopped this feature, huh?  Well, I have.  I’ve just had these lyrics cycling in my mind for hours — about how myth can control us — and how we can reclaim the notion of faithfulness, as faith in our loved ones.

Faithful

Plaque on the wall says that no one’s slept here
It’s rare to come upon a bridge that has not been around
Or been stepped on
Whatever the notions we laced in our prayers,
The man upstairs is used to all of this noise
I’m through with screaming

And echoes nobody hears, it goes, it goes, it goes
Like echoes nobody hears, it goes, it goes, it goes
We’re faithful, we all believe, we all believe it (4x)

And echoes nobody hears, it goes, it goes, it goes (2x)
We’re faithful, we all believe, we all believe it (3x)
So faithful, we all believe, we all believe it

Myth is belief in the game,
Controls that keep us in a box of fear
We never listen
Voice inside so drowned out, drowned
You are, you are, you are everything
And everything is you
Me, you, you, me, it’s all related
What’s a boy to do?
Just be darling and I will be too  –
Faithful to you

All Vedder Tuesday

I love this song’s lyrics: Socially conscious; empowering; bitterly satirical at points.  The music is fantastic, too.  Enjoy.

Song of Choice

Early every year the seeds are growing
Unseen, unheard, they lie beneath the ground
Would you know before the leaves are showing
That with weeds all your garden will abound?

If you close your eyes, stop your ears
Hold your mouth, how can you know?
The seeds you cannot see may not be there
The seeds you cannot hear may never grow

In January you’ve still got the choice
You can cut the weeds before they start to bud
If you leave them to grow higher, they’ll silence your voice
And in December you may pay with your blood

Close your eyes, stop your ears
Close your mouth and take it slow
Let others take the lead and you bring up the rear
And later you can say you didn’t know

Every day another vulture takes flight
There’s another danger born every morning
In the darkness of your blindness the beast will learn to bite
How can you fight if you can’t recognize a warning?

Close your eyes, stop your ears
Close your mouth and then you know
Let others take the lead and you bring up the rear
And later you can say you didn’t know

Today you may earn a living wage
Tomorrow you may be on the dole
Though there’s millions going hungry, you needn’t disengage
For it’s them not you that’s fallen in the hole

It’s all right for you if you run with the pack
It’s all right if you agree with all they do
If the Fascist Party’s slowly climbing back
It’s not here yet, so what’s it got to do with you?

The weeds are all around us and they’re growing
It will soon be too late for the knife
If you leave them on the wind that around the world is blowing
You may pay for your silence with your life

Close your eyes, stop your ears
Close your mouth, they’re never there
And if it happens here, they’ll never come for you
Because they’ll know you really didn’t care

You know what’s great?  Activist music.  Especially when it’s screaming heavy metal.

Like this track from Los Angeles band System of a Down.  Here are the lyrics:

Prison Song

They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison

Following the rights movements
You clamped down with your iron fists.
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids.
Following the rights movements
You clamped down with your iron fists.
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids.

I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch,
Right here in Hollywood

Nearly 2 million Americans are incarcerated
In the prison system of the U.S.

They’re trying to build a prison

They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
For you and me to live in.
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system

Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don’t even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non-rich,
Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don’t even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non-rich

I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch,
Right here in Hollywood

The percentage of Americans in the prison system (prison system), has doubled since 1985

They’re trying to build a prison

They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me, you and me

They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
For you and me
Oh baby, you and me

All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased,
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences.
All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences.

Utilizing drugs to pay for secret wars around the world,
Drugs are now your global policy,
Now you police the globe.

I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch,
Right here in Hollywood

Drug money is used to rig elections
And train brutal corporate-sponsored
Dictators around the world.

They’re trying to build a prison

They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
They’re trying to build a prison
For you and me to live in.
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
For you and me.
Oh baby, you and me!

Most fathers probably find their seven-year-olds hilarious at times.  Niall, I think, is objectively hilarious.

1. Niall and I were at the home of my father and his wife (“Nana Judy”).  They have a wooden fort installed for him.  He draws a sign to put at the entrance:

For your safty: no adults or human humen girls allowed

My father asks him about it:

My father:  It’s not safe for girls?

Niall:  No.

My father:  Why not?

Niall:  They might get hurt.

My father:  How?

Niall:  They might get pushed off.

2. Niall comes to me and tells me that he wants to build a trapdoor in it.  He describes it, and how it will work, carefully watching to make sure I think it’s a good idea.  Then he says, “OK.  Well, first I need to ask permission to use the chainsaw.”  He says this Christopher-Robin-level politely — as if he could sweet-talk his way into it.

3. Nana Judy is holding a sick rabbit near their hutch, and Niall inquires after it in an unusual but endearing order:

Niall:  What’s his name?

Judy:  ‘Rex’.

Niall:  What is he?

OK, my enamorment might be paternal sentimentalism.  If so, shush.  I’m going to pretend otherwise.