— RooBeeDoo (@RooBeeDoo1) February 10, 2020
— Caleb Hull (@CalebJHull) February 10, 2020
India's Leaders Claim Drinking Cow Urine Will Cure Covid-19 | Zero Hedge https://t.co/nIjn69pStB
— RooBeeDoo (@RooBeeDoo1) February 12, 2020
‘In Wuhan, a steel-gray sky hung over the melancholy day of Li’s death. An impromptu memorial of flowers, a black-and-white photograph and singed cigarettes — a stand-in for joss sticks — formed at the entrance of the hospital where he had died.’
*Aye… /streams smokes… asses free…*
late 13c., “gum or other substance producing a sweet smell when burned,” from Old French encens (12c.), from Late Latin incensum “burnt incense,” literally “that which is burnt,” noun use of neuter past participle of Latin incendere “set on fire” (see incendiary). Meaning “smoke or perfume of incense” is from late 14c.
early 15c., encensen “to arouse, inspire,” from Old French incenser, from Latin incensare, frequentative of incendere “set on fire,” figuratively “incite, enrage, rouse” (see incendiary). From mid-15c. as “to provoke, anger.” Literal sense “to heat, make (something) hot” is from c. 1500 in English but is rare.
“to offer incense, perfume with incense, fumigate (something) with incense,” late 13c., encensen, incensen, from incense (n.) or from Old French encenser (11c.), or directly from Medieval Latin incensare.
*It can lead to some awful decisions taken… /eyes fag packet…*
*Ah, when the Doctor and assistant had at least some chemistry between ’em…/flicks lighter…*
*When a 3 2 1 ray show worked… /lights up… Clicky, be a doll and get me some chainsmokers. I’m in the mood…*
*Nice orange background on that, Clicky…/lights up and smokes… Quite right. Gotta be sensitive to others…*
“My favourite French word is Particuliar, if you would care to think about that and tell me what you see.”
*I know we remote viewed Time Bandits last night but I wasn’t intending to include it, Clicky…*
*What are you up to? …/squints…*
*That’s right, Clicky. Not just Cade and me. Also Poppie Sweet Pea…*
*And Leggy… /flicks ash… ‘Panoptica’ is coming along nicely, Clicky…*
*Aye… /deep drag…*
*So is that me and you, me and Cade or Cade and you, Clicky?*
*I knew it!*
This one is gonna be cake.
Everyone is invited for cake.
After 30 days of this, everyone is entitled to cake.
Put in the time = reap the rewards…of cake.
There will be no cake
It wasn’t until very recently that it dawned on me that the initials of this song, spell out my name…
R.U.T.H. = Can be slow on the uptake
*Good fing I knock about with an Hillman eh, Clicky? …/blow smoke rings…*
Before I get to the song that makes me think about me, prolly best for me to say thanks to Roob for enduring this. She’d had to jump through a lot of hoops over the past month, she was ill for a good portion of that time, I think part of her family was ill over the holidays, but she’s hung in there and gotten the job done. Also gotta make a note that it was great that others participated too. Always nice when others contribute, and good conversation is good. Ya’ll have submitted a lot of music that I’ve never heard before, and I likely never would have heard it had you not chimed in. From me, thanks.
For those unaware, I’ve been writing for and with Roob for 3 years now. We celebrated (with zero fanfare) our 3 year anniversary back in December, and it’s been hella fun. I’ve learned a lot from her. Nod to Legiron and CynaraeStMary for their friendship and mentoring as well.
Back in the middle of 2012, when I first created my online avatar ‘RooBeeDoo2’ in order to join I.S.I.S, I was working in Construction Logistics as a Logistician’s Logistican. Frank and fellow I.S.I.S members started to addressed me as ‘Roobee’. Understandable really; RooBeeDoo2 is a bit of a mouthful…
Roobee = Ruby = Creative & Constructive
*The smokers’ universe is definitely blue… /plumes smoke…*
There’s nothing for me to plug here, I have nothing to gain by doing this, so I don’t feel entirely guilty for what I am about to do. However, music that makes me think about me, is music that I myself wrote and performed. Years were spent sitting alone in a room writing and playing music. I have a giant box filled with cassettes on which contain these efforts, hundred upon hundreds of songs and song ideas, and its unfortunate that many of the songs that I am thinking of right now I’ll not be able to share with you here. Just no way for me to share them at this time. However, I will share a something I don’t really expect anyone to listen to, but yeah…this shit right here, makes me, think about me.
BTW, if you have an urge to listen to what little I was able to transfer to digital from analog, there’s a playlist of various nonsense of mine from 1989-1992.
Back at the end of 2012, when I first started experiencing ‘syncs’, I started writing about them on MEROVEE. From the start, Frank and the fellow commentating Mero-VEEPs referred to me by the much simpler ‘Roob’…
Roob = Rube = Complicated but Fun
*Aleister Crowley claimed the number of Magik is eleven, Clicky… /flicks lighter…*
*It’s a little known fact that, on a scale of 1 to 10, the pain from the Underdog’s bite is 11… /lights up… True…*
*What do you mean, we haven’t had anything in from Cade yet? …/drags… Go and wake him up, Clicky! I’ll stall…*
*He’s still not up? …/snorts smoke… Shit! I’ll have to start the challenge and hope he turns up…*
From the movie ‘Trainspotting’, I absolutely love listening to Underworld’s ‘Born Slippy’ played at full blast…
*He’s turned up? Brilliant! …/smokes contentedly…*
I challenged this challenge that challenged me. I didn’t expect this challenge to challenge me back. Also didn’t know if this challenge would challenge me, but admit that I did have the slightest twinge of fear that I would not be able to adequately rise to the challenges this challenge may present. If day 4 was a void of nothing for me, Day 5 is suddenly a void of everything for me.
Day 4 = nothing to choose from.
Day 5 = everything to choose from.
The question is, do I let it flow? Meaning, do I choose the songs in order as they come to me? Or do I sit and stew and try to pick songs that I may have forgotten about. So far, all my picks have been whatever arrived from the memory banks first, so prolly best that I stick with that for as long as the well is producing water.
This was the first one in, and I can see myself rocking out in the home that I grew up in, black light on, AC/DC and black light posters all over the wall, and maybe me doing some air-guitar. Problem is, I could not remember the name of the song, and I was also under the impression that this song was off the album ‘Fair Warning’. Not so. It was off the album ‘Women And Children First’.
My second song to be played loud is ‘I Could Be So Good For You’ by Dennis Waterman…
… and theme song from the TV series, ‘Minder’. I bought it as a single and love to sing along to it, so it’s pretty fucking essential that the song is played LOUD 😉
Man, what a great tune. Weird as hell too. Songs like that one always intrigued me when I was young. What the authors were thinking when they wrote all that craziness? What inspires such madness? How did all that chaos come together to make some tangible and somewhat coherent something? Who in the FUCK thinks like that?!?!?!? Oh yeah…people like me. So yeah, the music made sense, but how to tame that energy, turn it into a trade, and eventually make a career out of it was a huge mystery. Anyway, whilst digging for the previous tune, I stumbled across yet another song of Van Halen’s that needs to be played at a high volume, but it’s not my next pick.
YouTube does not appear to like that song. Can’t say that blame them because I too was not particularly fond of the title and lyrics/was also taken somewhat aback when I first heard it. It was, and is, shocking. I hate violence, and more than that, I hate violent people. That said, I’d been around music and musicians long enough to know that there had to be some kind of secondary meaning. Something hidden. Some something that made The Prodigy “cross the line”, as it were. As to what the song meaning is? What the song is about? That’s for you to decide your own damn self. Digress.
I’m going to cheat a little for my third choice, because it’s difficult to choose a single track from the Human League’ ‘Love and Dancing’ album. So here’s side A to pound and tickle your eardrums at the same time 😀
Two songs are tangling for my third pick. I could likely go on ad-infinitum with songs that need to be play loud, but I’ve no desire to create a ridiculous amount of work for Roob. Really am torn as to which of the two songs I am currently thinking about to use here, but I’ll stick with the one that arrived first. No idea how I originally stumbled onto this song, but glad that I did. It fucking rocks.
*Oh go on then, Clicky. What do you want to say?*
*Charming! …/stubs butt…*
Ewwww…seriously? I am being completely honest in saying that I am not reading ahead in the “30 Day Challenge”, and was completely unaware of what Day 4 had in store until Roob mentioned it in the Day 3 post.
Songs that remind us of people we’d rather forget
rofl…um, how to explain this without sounding like a self-centered and condescending prick. Let’s see here…my life is, interesting. Stormy. A completely normal life surrounded by the surreal and serendipitous bordering on the completely unbelievable by incredulous onlookers. A travesty. As a result, “abnormal” and “aberrant” are the norm, so its difficult for me to associate a single something with a single someone. I can associate songs with a particular time, and there may be a particular someone within that time that I can loosely associate with a song, but I usually cannot attribute a song to that person and that person alone. Perhaps its my love of music + my knowledge that associating a particular song with a particular someone is extremely dangerous. Good songs that mean a lot to us don’t come along that often, and for me, to associate a single song with a single someone or even a single something is a sure-fire way to ensure that you are going to hate that song at some point…all because of a someone that has little to nothing to do with that song.
All that said, I’m now thinking of a certain someone, and a certain song that served to break some of the tension as I drove her to the bus station.
Dig For Fire by the Pixies doesn’t make me think about that someone. Or at least, not just and only that certain someone. Does it bring back memories of that unfortunate situation and the events that led up to it? Sure. But wow, what a song. What an exclamation point on a situation. Someone had needs, I could not provide for those needs on the timeline in which they needed them, they decided to move on. Keep digging. Keep searching for the fire they need. This is just me, but its almost as if there was a certain providence to all of the goings on at the time, and those players who were represented as events transpired. Yeah, I’m talking 3rd parties of all kinds, even those that may reside in the more ethereal types of realms.
Was I hurt? You bet. Was I angry? Indeed I was. Do I still feel that pain even today? Yep. Am I still confused even after all these years? Absolutely. But no need to transfer that weight onto The Pixies, nor their album Bossanova, nor their song Dig For Fire. Plus, had all that not happened, you would not be here today reading what I am here today writing. There are reasons for everything. I don’t pretend to know what those are, but yeah, prolly some reasons that things happen in the way and ways that they do. Digress.
I guess some people feel that if you “don’t have a song”, there’s something missing in a relationship. A certain song that has a certain meaning to only you and your partner. Welp, I’m a musician. If I want a song that means something to me and you, and only me and you, I’ll write it myself. Needless to say, this next one kinda got grabbed by a certain someone, they attached some meaning to it, but I always felt that it meant more to them than it did to me. Sounds cold, I know. But again, I have an avenue to express my fire for someone. I don’t need someone else to do it for me. Regardless of all that, someone that I used to know latched onto this song, and I never had the courage to tell them that of all of the music Cocteau Twins have ever produced, this is probably one of my least favorite songs…only because of the additional meaning attached to it via a relationship.
Sucks, because that is a fucking fantastic song. The ending sounds like how God got the idea to hang the morning sun in the sky after an eternal night of darkness.
Beautiful hands us no way lies a means of love
On sounds and guard the stone, and bed had a law
Answers written and I reason
In the reign of sex, blown more than it’s pleased to be
He’s a beauty affection, oooh
Men are so nice
He pleases me fine
He pleases me fine, fine, fine, fine
Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine
The music, the lyrics, the arrangement, the performance(s)…fucking genius. How in the hell can I hijack a song like that and attach my own personal meaning(s) to it as if it were somehow mine?
It’s as if I was supposed to melt every time the song came on. Difficult for me to melt even more when you are already a melted and gooey puddle that is completely and totally lovestruck. How do you top, what cannot be topped? I’m already head over heels, so where in the fuck am I supposed to go? Backwards? Back to where this song first became the anthem of my eternal an undying love? Sorry, can’t do it. You were already the sole object of my affection long before you knew that song even existed.
It means something special to you? Great. Seriously, I think that is wonderful. Just don’t expect it to mean the same thing for me that it means for you.
Its sometimes tough to know how to feel about certain things. You’re likely going to encounter things you personally have never experienced yourself, and you may even encounter and experience shit you’ve never even heard of. That said, if relationships can come together, makes sense that they can also come apart. Some things come apart so goddamn fast, that you begin to wonder if the other party was ever actually working to make things work. But such is life sometimes. Some things require the hammer. The harsh stress test(s) to see if this certain something is going to stand the test of time according to your own liking. One drawback of the hammer test tho, is that nothing lasts for long, and certainly not under the hammer. All breaks, all fails, everything crumbles. Just does so a helluva lot faster than it would have otherwise.
So what is it you ultimately seek to achieve. What is this something you wish to obtain, and why is it you choose the hammer to obtain it. While its true that wielding the hammer can teach you a great deal about whatever it is that you are placing on the anvil, at some point you’ll likely need to reflect on what all of this is doing to you. What it is doing to others is obvious, but what it is doing to you? Not so much. In the right hands, a hammer can produce some amazing things. You’re likely to go through a shitload of material during the learning process tho. Might wanna make sure you’ve adequate supplies left available to create your masterpiece once you’ve mastered your craft.
Five songs seems excessive, and much of what I’ve written thusfar may be interpreted by some as being bitter. You may even surmise that I am repressing. Avoiding the subject. Nope. I’m fortunate to have my own outlets. My own pathways for expressing myself and my feelings on a particular subject. Music, song lyrics, poetry, writing, I feel blessed that I have these avenues. Helps me to get on. Helps me to keep going. Experience enough sunrises, and you’ll know that the sun is sure to set. Experience enough sunsets, and you’ll know that the sun is sure to rise.
Doc Holliday: What do you want?
Wyatt Earp: Just to live a normal life.
Doc Holliday: There is no normal life Wyatt…there’s just life. Get on with it.
Movie = Tombstone
Normal normalcy is temporary, and all that is normal, is also fleeting.
Not to mention, I don’t like forgetting.
Forgetting makes me forget.
Makes me prone to repeating previous mistakes.
Makes me forget who I was.
That may even lead to my never being who I can be and/or never being who I could have been.
You’ll get my all for as long as you want it.
It’s all I have.
Forgetting? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.
Get the fuck over it, and get on with it.
Not like I have a lot of choice.
There is only one person I’d rather forget: I really don’t care for Tony Blair and this is the song that reminds me of him…
*In your D:Reams, Gordon! …/stubs butt… You utter Charlie…*
‘In last week’s Mail on Sunday, after a month and a half travelling from Bolsover to Canterbury, St Ives to Chingford, Wrexham to County Durham, I predicted that Labour’s vaunted Red Wall was on the brink of collapse. I was wrong.
‘It didn’t collapse. It was smashed into a billion pieces. Atomised by the arrogance, ideological blindness, self-righteousness and viciousness of Jeremy Corbyn and his cultish followers.
‘When first elected in 2015, they inherited a battered but proud and functioning party. By the time The Absolute Boy made his graceless resignation speech in the early hours of Friday morning, all that was left was the political equivalent of the Manson clan.’
*Ha! I loved the credits on that too… /smokes… There’s been no Red Apols! from Labour either, Clicky, for their wankish policies or spiteful attitude toward voters for rejecting them…*
*You’d think! Government needs a strong and credible opposition to keep them straight, Clicky… /flicks ash… A thorn in their side, but this rump Labour lot…*
*/shakes head… I’m not optimistic…*
*Yeah, there was a definite touché of class about the election result, Clicky… /stubs butt… *
*Nice try, Clicky, but that wasn’t in the movie soundtrack. Go get one that is for us to end this shambles on… /pats snout… Off you pop…*
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