Translate

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Love Sick - Time Out of Mind




Above: The 1998 (40th) Grammy Awards - How well Bob manages the on stage interruption of Michael Portnoy, better known as "Soy Bomb". Portnoy was hired by the Grammys to stand in the background with other dancers and bob his head to the music to "give Bob a good vibe." Instead, halfway through the performance, he ripped off his shirt, ran up next to Dylan, and started dancing and contorting spastically with the words "Soy Bomb" written across his chest. Also, check out Patti Smith in the audience beginning at 2:11 
An explanation of the title/text of this video - "Bob Dylan 70 : Ain't Gonna Work on Grammy's Farm No More" : It was uploaded to you tube on May 24, 2011 as a tribute to Dylan on his 70th birthday. 
Dylan Chords - Eyolf Østrem - lyrics and chords to Love Sick

Friday, September 27, 2013

Do you see what I see?

I find this video fascinating.  To see Bob behind the scenes; nervous, vulnerable, unsure of himself and his ability to get it right, grateful for the support and encouragement of his peers.  His innate humility is so heartwarming.  Maybe you have to be a life-long fan to see what I see and appreciate this video as much as I do, I don't know.



Monday, September 16, 2013

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall





Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’
Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

End Child Abuse - Stop Forgiving It



Matthew 18

King James Version (KJV)

At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?

2 And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them,

3 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.

4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.

6 But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.


Thursday, September 12, 2013

Root Beer Float


Under My Strange Hat
by Leo

My mind has been flooded lately by old, strange memories.  Last night I remembered an incident that must have had a profound effect on me; why else would my mind have hung on to it all these years.  It was a Sunday morning and I was going to be late for mass.  Thinking about this as I write makes me a little nauseaus; I was probably nauseaus that morning, fearing the consequences of coming to mass late.  Nevertheless, I put on my hat and gloves and left the house, telling myself hat being late would be better than not going at all; for surely I could tell my parents I wasn't feeling well and they would understand and let me stay home.  I asked my dad for some collection money, he gave me the usual seventy-five cents and off I went to mass.

Our parish had two churches, the original old stone chapel and the new, much larger and grander brick church.  Children from grades one through eight attended mass in the chapel, the big brick church was for everyone else.  I was thirteen and in the seventh grade, and even though I didn't attend the parish school, I was instructed and expected to attend mass in the chapel.  The nuns were responsible for over-seeing the proper and devout conduct of the children, which they did with the fervor of drill sergeants at boot camp.  They were hell-bent on precision and used "clackers" which made the harsh sound of two blocks of hardwood being smacked together.  I found this sound disturbing.  When we heard the sound it was a signal to stand, sit, or kneel, in unison as one body as quickly and quietly as possible.  I could see the priest on a raised platform directing the ritual.  I felt strangely alienated from him and what he was doing.

By the time I arrived at the church grounds my mind was brimming over with speculation of the possible horrors that awaited me for being late for mass.  I had never witnessed any of the chapel children coming to mass late so I had no idea what lay in store for me at the hands of the gestapo-like sisters.  My fear was so intense that I made the decision that I would not enter the chapel, instead I would take what seemed to me the lesser of two evils and attend mass with the adults in the big brick church.  I walked in, slightly timid, aware that my late arrival would draw some attention, but confident that all would be well.  I blessed myself with holy water as I always did when I entered a Catholic church.  What could possibly happen now; I was safe, I could breathe a little easier.

There was an old priest at the back of the church, as I passed him to find a seat in one of the rear pews, he grabbed me by the arm and spun me around to face him.  His face was red and ugly and twisted with anger.  Then he took hold of my shoulders and shook the living daylights out of me, all the while screaming at me, looking at me with utter contempt.  How dare I come to mass late!  Why wasn't I in the chapel with the other children.  Who did I think I was.  It seemed to go on forever, parishioners were turning their heads to see what the commotion was about.  I was scared out of my wits and thoroughly humiliated.  He ordered me to go directly to the chapel.

I walked out of the big church, I slumped out of the big church.  I refused to go to the chapel.  I decided instead to walk out to the avenue and instead of going home I made a right turn and continued walking down the avenue to the boulevard.  On the other side of the boulevard was Schrager's Drug Store.  I found refuge there, took a seat at the counter and ordered a root beer float, paying for it with my collection money.  I got enough money back to buy some sen-sens and an Archie and Veronica comic book. 


Sunday, September 1, 2013

Blessed Vladimir Ghika


The Mass of Beatification for Mons. Vladimir Ghika was celebrated August 31st (2013) in Bucharest, the capital of Romania, by Angelo Cardinal Amato, the prefect for the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints.
Read more at New Liturgical Movement