Jan Uiterwijk ~ definitely the last cocktail

Great cover of a John Denver song by hm-12

Please daddy don’t get drunk this Christmas I don’t wanna see my mama cry
Please daddy don’t get drunk this Christmas I don’t wanna see my mama cry

Just last year when I was only seven now I’m almost eight as you can see
You came home at quarter past eleven and fell down underneath our Christmas tree
Please daddy don’t get drunk…
Mama smiled and looked otside the window she told me son you’d better go upstairs
Then you laughed and hollered merry Christmas
I turned around and saw my mama’s tears
Please daddy don’t get drunk…
Everybody sing now
Please daddy don’t get drunk…
No

Let the celebration begin!

Knox Bronson ~ High Mass

Everything Is Free Now by Gillian Welch, sung by Father John Misty

Everything is free now
That’s what they say
Everything I ever done
Gonna give it away
Someone hit the big score
They figured it out
That we’re gonna do it anyway
Even if it doesn’t pay

I can get a tip jar
Gas up the car
And try and make a little change
Down at the bar
Or I can get a straight job
I done it before
Never minded working hard
It’s who I’m working for

But everything is free now
That’s what they say
Everything I ever done
Gonna give it away
Someone hit the big score
They figured it out
That we’re gonna do it anyway
Even if doesn’t pay

Every day I wake up
Humming a song
But I don’t need to run around
I’ll just stay at home
And sing a little love song
My love and myself
If there’s something that you want to hear
You can sing it yourself

Cause everything is free now
That’s what I said
No one’s got to listen to
The words in my head
Someone hit the big score
But I figured it out
And I’m gonna do it anyway
Even if doesn’t pay

Beyond the Soul’s Meridian November 27, 2023

Recently, I was criticized for writing for the sake of writing. That is a very truthful statement.  As I have no constituents, sponsors, or agendas to answer to.  Therefore, my work is done for the sake of doing it.

Over twenty years ago, the artist Gillian Welch wrote a song called “Everything is Free” for her 2001 album “The Revelator.”

In it she sings:

Everything is free now
That’s what they say
Everything I ever done
Gonna give it away

Someone hit the big score
They figured it out
That we’re gonna do it anyway
Even if it doesn’t pay…

The song was written at a time early in her career when peer to peer sharing of digital music files began to undercut the conventions of the music industry.   The song was originally written as a protest to the uncertain transitions that the business was bearing.  At the time, insidious changes seemed to be random and chaotic.  Yet, there was an agenda behind it as dominion over all aspects of entertainment is now wielded within the constructs of major media corporations married to tech driven platforms where independent voices are rarely if ever heard. As an artist, one can still make music if you are prepared to exist on the fringes or outside of the industry.      

A few years later, in 2004, the gospel soul group, “The Holmes Brothers” recorded the song on their album “Simple Truths.” Over time, the song became a standard classic in many genres and is now seeing a resurgence with newer artists.

Their gospel interpretation expanded the meaning of the song from the apprehensions of a young musician worried about the uncertainties of her professional career, to the average person feeling the constricting forces of globalization in all aspects of life.  Perhaps you did not notice this in 2001, or even in 2004, but virtually anyone with a pulse is now feeling an alien presence lording over us at some level.  It is only the true artist who has vision through the intelligence of their heart married to the mind.  An inspired artist can sense the reality of transitional situations decades before it happens by mining truth deep within the soul and manifesting it through their given medium of expression.

It is the simple truth that not only withstands the test of time but takes on a profound and greater meaning.  One could dare say prophetic.

Alien domination* is now reaching all aspects of existence… medical, political, spiritual, vocational, educational, and economic.  Called Operation Lockstep*, it is a war against our human life force, eternal truth, and cosmic wisdom, which are the ultimate sources of art and therefore genuine human expression.  This is a battle against all inspired souls who align themselves with their individuated freedom of expression. This is a war against human enlightenment and those brave souls who are the practitioners of it.

Read the whole piece here.

Dr. Panzica refers to aliens and extraterrestials as agents from the dark astral plane, not faraway planets:

To appease our apprehension, the New Age-Ascension community has promoted the idea that the dark extraterrestrial influence ruling over us has been negated by positive extraterrestrials—so all is well.  Even if true, it is a bogus concept.  This distortion is a major part of a grand deception for those who align themselves with overt positivity.  Otherworldly, does not mean other physical worlds or planets.  It has always meant the dark astral plane which is the shadow realm that our soul must engage during the travails of our physical life.

*Operation Lockstep: I looked it up. It is claimed that COVID-19 was planned by the Rockefeller Foundation in the late eighties, called Operation Lockstep. While the quest for domination by dark forces is certainly true, I don’t think it has anything to do with vaccines, at all. Frankly, I’d look at mass media and social media, etc., for the war against enlightenment. I love his website and its abundant truths and insights, but sometimes he comes off like a crackpot. Ah well …

{sunday} Jan Uiterwijk ~ agreed

The handshake

The Specious Present by Catherine Barnett

I stared at the tiny xeroxed faces
we wore like blurry jokes
pinned to our lapels.

Outside, the light raked the dry brown foothills
we slid down on flattened cardboard boxes,
decades ago, out of control, fast,

fast as years.
I still love the California hills,
I still love boxes and the way a word

is a box. It holds things,
flotsam holding flotsam.
Be the void, said the strobe-light disco ball.

The red wine warmed in my hands, it
spilled on my bare feet as I danced
above the San Andreas Fault.

“Cathy,” they called me that night,
and in the reunion’s obsolete blear
I looked a little like a Cathy,

or a Nadia, unrecognizable save for the eyes
and the animal drive to throw herself
into a long line of aerial cartwheels,

propelled forward and upside down
past language into anachronistic light.

Happy Sunday.

T. Wendell Peek ~ … my kind of alley

I think I know now what’s making me sad
Yearnin’ for my own back yard
Realize maybe I was wrong to leave
Swallow up my silly country pride

Going home, running home
Down to Gasoline Alley where I was born
Going home, running home
Down to Gasoline Alley where I was born
Yeah, ooh

When the weather’s better and the rails unfreeze
Wind don’t whistle ’round my knees
I’ll put on my weddin’ suit and catch the evening train
Home before the milk’s upon the door

Going home, running home
Down to Gasoline Alley where I was born
Going home, running home
Down to Gasoline Alley where I was born

But if anything should happen and my plans go wrong
Should I stray to the house on the hill
Let it be known that my intentions were good
I’d be singing in my alley if I could

And if I’m called away and it’s my turn to go
Should the blood run cold in my veins
Just one favor I’ll be asking of you
Don’t bury me here, it’s too cold

Going home, running home
Down to Gasoline Alley where I was born
Going home, running home
Down to Gasoline Alley where I was born

Going home, running home
Gasoline Alley where I was born
Going home, running home
Gasoline Alley where I was born

Jan Uiterwijk ~ sign language

Either go away or go all the way in
Look at what you hold
Come back down on a spear of silence
When it flies
You go on through
You come on through
The ridiculous no
Oh no
One more pair of

Loving eyes look down on you
Sheets and a pillow
How old will you have to be before you
Stop believing
That those eyes will look down on you
That way forever

There you sit mouth wide open
Animals nipping at your sides
On wire wheels the four stroke man
Opens wide
The marching sound
The constant ride
On the gasket is mine
All mine
One more pair of

Wire wheels bear down on you
Gear stripping the willow
How many machine men will you see before you
Stop believing that speed
Will slide down on you
Like brakes in bad weather

Much of the beauty that arises in art comes from the artist’s struggle with his limited medium.—Henri Matisse

This site celebrates images mostly shot and always processed on iPhones or other iOS devices. Occasionally, source images from DSLRs or other cameras are processed on iOS devices. 

No laptop or desktop computers are used for image manipulation.

Aim well, shoot fast, and scram.—Henri Cartier-Bresson.

Aim well, shoot fast, and app that bitch until it sings.—Knox Bronson.

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