Sta.sh
A Philosopher-Poet’s Final Communique From the Front Lines
Following a riot last month in the same location, and in the footsteps of dozens before him, another Foxconn worker in China has hurled himself off the roof of a building within the Foxconn campus where many of the devices that surround us everyday are manufactured. Ipods, Ipads, Xbox's, etc.
Research reveals that decades ago…
A musician and poet with a lot on his mind recorded a demo of a song shortly before he was gunned down at a relatively young age in front of his apartment. At the time the demo was recorded, the track was intended for a former band mate’s solo album. Ironically, the title of that band mate’s soon to be released collection of songs was “Stop And Smell the Roses.” The vilified widow of this musician, whom in life he loved deeply, posthumously completed the track and set it for release.
I find these lyrics eerily observant of the times we are living in. But that’s impossible, right?
It’s as if an artist’s voice, silenced by violent death, is still crying out for all our lives – even as tortured lives are sacrificed in suicide, the only protest song available to the voiceless.
Here are the lyrics to that John Lennon song
NOBODY TOLD ME
Everybody's talking and no one says a word
Everybody's making love and no one really cares
There's nazis in the bathroom just below the stairs.
Always something happening and nothing going on
There's always something cooking and nothing in the pot
They're starving back in China so finish what you got.
Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Strange days indeed.
Everybody’s runnin yet no one makes a move
Everyone’s a winner and nothin’s left to lose
There's a little yellow idol to the north of Katmandu.
Everybody's flying and no one leaves the ground
Everybody's crying and no one makes a sound.
There's a place for us in movies you just gotta lay around.
Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Strange days indeed
most peculiar Mama.
Everybody's smoking and no one's getting high
Everybody's flying and they never touch the sky
There's UfO's over New York and I ain't too surprised.
Nobody told me there'd be days like these
Strange days indeed
most peculiar Mama.
Talking to an old friend who really "knows" me and can accept me is the same as wallowing in at and music and writing and reading...
All of the above - except gardening.