they swear in cursive
drown roses in gin
hang profanities in majestic wooden frames
and never stick around for the applause.
they swear in cursive
How many people reading this are fans of Nickelback? How about Dane Cook? Now, I can safely assume that, unless this blog gets reposted on a site dedicated to those respective artists, those questions would be met with tumbleweeds and the distant sound of crickets. Like Creed or Limp Bizkit or…
I agree. I think it comes down to two reasons.
The first is power. The ability to dislike something is seen as the ability to affirm individuality (ironically even if its widely disliked).
The second is a feeling of injustice and misdirected anger. For me and my peers (20 something year olds) often their is a cynical feeling that the music and movie industries choose money over artestry. And misguidedly the anger falls upon the artist instead of at the industry. Not that we are necessarily right about the industry either.
Like you said the answer is to focus on what we like and not on what we dislike.
P.s. Growing up in a christian house I was a huge creed fan, I still think that Stott lyrics are some of the most genuine i have heard.
Ultimately all politics is about power. Whether the power is taken for few, many or for people of a certain culture, race or religion. Racism, sexism and nationalism are all ways of ensuring that power is maintained by a select people group.
This notion of power can be reduced done to a small concept called money. As we are aware money is power.
While politics does deal with other issues such as freedom of speech, justice and national morals all these things contribute to notions of wealth and how it is to be distributed.
For example whether a government choose to view justice from a social or moral view determines where national wealth is spent and how much.
In a Democratic system governments main priority should be ensuring that the wealth of the nation is spread out fairly among all it’s people. Government’s should also be kept accountable to how this wealth is gathered.
I have friends who “dream big”. Every now and then we all come together we drink coffee and they smoke their cigarettes and we talk about our dreams. Every time we meet a new dream is delivered on to the altar. I sit and listen and share, and slowly the dreams begin to swell like an orchestra, they grow in momentum, becoming louder and bigger until they crescendo and die on the table.
These friends, they live in a tension of big dreams and “the moment”. They live for realities of cigarettes, irony, liquor drenched conversational grandeur and other such “hipsterism”. These friends they live in the moment, but there moment is so small. It makes me sad. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
It’s not that I blame them; suburbia can do that to a person. I just get so bored. And I don’t think I can spend small moments listening to big dreams anymore. Maybe I am a cynic, these days I’m not really sure.
The catholic church is probably the best argument I know for the seperation between church and state.
When we the church becomes to politically powerfull or when we start to call ourselves a “christian nation” we lose all accountability to those we have come to save. The church was made for power in Gods name but the unquestionable power the catholic church has had for so many years leads to corruption and disintegration.
Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have A Dream” speech, given at the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom on Aug. 28, 1963.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”
Rock ‘n’ Roll: An international conversation around a particular musical sund also/and including art, fashion and politics. Finding it’s origins in a musical intercourse between the African American cultural movement and mainstream/white American youth, developments and contributions to the discourse have predominatley been between the United States and Great Britian. More recently other nations have joined in this conversation, leaving their impact on the artform, these nations include Jamacia, Nigeria, Ireland, Australia and Japan.
Last night in Colorado, a young man walked into a movie theater and took the lives of innocent people. As of now, 12 people were killed and many more were wounded.
We are shocked and saddened by this news. Our hearts and thoughts and prayers are for the family and friends of the people who were…
To truly understand the current debate around asylum seekers, in Australia, you have to drill down to the heart of the issue. This debate is essential about whether our duty is to the “western block” and our colonial heritage or to our immediate neighbours in the geographic region we occupy.
The former is around the british colonialism that has become ingrained in our culture and the aligiance that brings to the western power nations. Australia can almost be viewed as a western outpost in the “East”. With the responsibility to staying loyal to our western identity.
The later argument is around the subtle but growing influence of the East in Australian culture and our geographic location in the East. Our geo-political neighbourhood and our growing relationships in the Asian-Pacific brings a responsibility to the people of this region (and other regions excluded from the west) running from war and suffering.
To boil it down further the asylum seeker debate is a east vs west debate. Whether we consider refuges a part of “us” or “them”
Reblog with your favorite song lyric.
“a penny for you thoughts and a dollar for your insides.
Oh a fortune for your disaster”
FOB-Don’t you know who I think I am