This Is Really Extremely Stinkful (TIRES)™

-burning-racing-

You’d think a guy could think of something better to do with the time on his hands than to show off something that is not his best effort, his best work, his best anything. Showing off is not such a good thing to do anyway, or so we have been taught, and if what one shows is “ugly” then it ought to be shown privately, only to those who enjoy such sights. Like the freak show, where you pay to get in the tent because it is a thrill. You probably all have some image of the circus, the one that never really came to “your town” like you were told it would. The circus of adulthood turns out, so very often, to be like a stink has been raised by someone else, but they (you know who “they” are, don’t you?) say that the one who smelt it dealt it.

Funny sayings, that we say to have a “dirty laugh” is something we never (want to) grow out of before we actually are forced out be whatever does that forcing. Forcing is what we usually loath; freedom is what we love. But freedom is a lesson we must learn, truth a flame we must burn, love the key we must turn. Some folks know where that came from. How odd that I learnt that one so long a go. I will play it for a “true lady” someday, but it has to be someone who “might” be not necessarily actually but just like “the one” for me, if I were to choose. What I also learnt is that I do not really get to “choose” but must be “watching” for the “right one” who might want also to go the same route.

It’s all about the proper route. Or if pronounced differently, it would be: the route is for your boot!

See? Some say it one way, some say the other. ToMAYto, toMAHto. Potato, potatoe. Oh, wait, that’s spelling. Saying and spelling are not the same, unless they are.

And another “cheap shot” and obscure if not obsolete, while the “fading” process marches onward. When is a live quail as good as a dead duck? In the pas’, mos’ def! Sofa-git-about-it! dood…

Alas and hurrah, here is one choicely crappy version where I was just doing the “sound check” and it is not the “finished” work. The one that I made next (or will make next, or next-next, or next-next-next…) is not going to be shown “yet” since I do not have to do that anymore. Everyone knows that Cain slew Abel and hid his body in “the ground” so I have to start from the “ground up” and work from there. If some get “ground up” in the process by the raising of the more able among us, the so be it, amen, and hallelujah! (brothers!) (and sisters!!)

So here’s a mystery tune, which I do not claim as a good job, or even attributable at all to me.


Look at the fuzzy-ugly prospects with simple food foolery
But really, this is how I woulda did it, if (and I emphasize IF, with emphazis!) and only if I woulda gone done and did it!

[odeo=http://odeo.com/audio/3970153/view]

Now, when I play it (again, sam?) right, like I did with Dad years ago, it’s beautiful (or so I imagine). See if you can even tell what song it is supposed to be. I know it doesn’t pass as anything like art, and even I would insist that is true. It is just a “dry run” or something to adjust the knobs, and was meant barely as a warm up to see if the fingers are working today. Some days are not as good as the “usual worst” and so those days are not for producing anything I would willingly share. But when the number of good days starts to dwindle, we may have to “panic” and blurt something out. This is like a blurt. I would really be pleased if I could do better, and “usually I could” do that, but not today. Today is all I really have, in my hand, at all, as far as my hand can tell anyhow. 😀

The career guidance experts told me never to get a job where I would need to use adept hand techniques. Well, they said, find work where you don’t have to use your hands as much as your brains. I only have one brain, but I have two hands. The experts all know something I do not. They know how wise they are in their own eyes. I do not know that about them, or about me. Thus, I really am the more foolish of any me-you pair. Almost always I can figure that out first. But writing about it? Never was that in my “stars” as far as I could see.

Look closer, see more grain

Love,
–g

This entry is not a finished work yet, I have to post the “goodies” to the “hooks” now: Pic, mp3.

P.S. If you really cannot figure it out, download it and look at the lyrics stuffed inside the mp3. That (the process of reading and recognizing/recognising the familiar) would surely be more than enough to inform.

Okay, to give away the secret (now that my stomach has revolved
around properly to allow breathing more normal capacity) these
lyrics came as part of the idea the other night when the wind was
howling here in the valley and up and down the coast, and generally
northwards. My sister, usually rather spirited herself, has been
“powerless” for over 24 hrs, which is what a day might be called.
But it’s dark for lots of that.

Here be duh words, man…

Silent Night : Lyrics

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ, the Saviour is born
Christ, the Saviour is born

Silent night, holy night
Son of God, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth ”

Silent Night – lyrics

Silent Night!
The origin of the Christmas carol we know as Silent Night was a poem that was written in 1816 by an Austrian priest called Joseph Mohr. On Christmas Eve in 1818 in the small alpine village called Oberndorf it is reputed that the organ at St. Nicholas Church had broken. Joseph Mohr gave the poem of Silent Night (Stille Nacht) to his friend Franz Xavier Gruber and the melody for Silent Night was composed with this in mind. The music to Silent Night was therefore intended for a guitar and the simple score was finished in time for Midnight Mass. Silent Night is the most famous Christmas carol of all time!.

Copyright © 2004 Carols org

source: This place, when it was noted as: Copyright © 2004 Carols org

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About Galen

Nearly over some hills, still a fool on whatever this thing is where I stand
This entry was posted in Art, Beauty, Christmas, Friendship, Generation, Humor, Just For Fun, Love, Music, ODEO, Spirituality, Vanity, World. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to This Is Really Extremely Stinkful (TIRES)™

  1. Pootle says:

    It’s Silent Night! Well done!

  2. Galen says:

    You had me at “it’s” but you forgot “not fair” or am I arguing a’gin? 🙂 I knew you’d snap it right up, I did!
    –g

  3. Pootle says:

    I still don’t know what’s unfair, perhaps the fact that we can’t meet?

  4. Galen says:

    From you it’s just another excellent instance of seemingly “unfair” things, when there are so many, I hesitate to say that is the main and only one, but to form any real musical duet, it would take resources neither of us has. So, yeah, we can’t rehearse and put on any shows for anybody, yet. If I had a secret wish, that would be it, but obviously that is no secret, or so I imagine. We might also say it’s “unfair” that we do not automatically see everything the same way all the time. We might actually disagree at times. Not what I think of as “harmony” but it’s what happens with “real” people, every time. Perfection can exist in my mind, but that’s about as far as I can let it take me. Out here, it is “desired” but not actually attainable. We could really get “hung up” on that fact, if we wanted.

    That is either good or bad, but it ain’t fair, according the the way I use that word usually! As in, it would be a lot more to my liking if we could have something *better* than *only* this box, but it will do in a “pinch” or it all might be a waste of time , but nobody knows unless we speak, if this is speaking. It’s just not fair, I tell you! (again) 😀

    I think those elusive harmonics are calling me again… so I want to return, be back in a while, with more out-of-tune wordplay on “paper” or on the “strings”, six or more… if I don’t get mixed-up again.
    –g

  5. Pootle says:

    Excellent, now I know I’m going to have to get some recording equipment, or send you a tape of something I recorded when I was REALLY stinkful more than a decade as well. I have a cheerful quartet tape from 1994 – but I tell you again, I stinketh!

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