Black Market Ivory

Like our friend Jon Stewart said so eloquently on his final broadcast, “if you smell something, say something.” The scent on the wind today, friends, comes from the executives at Craigslist. They are standing beside policy that allows black market Ivory to be requested and purchased on their website. 
 
This decision (and ignorance on this magnitude is a decision) by the policy makers at Craigslist cannot be an allowed to stand. But let’s see how far their hypocrisy goes. Do you think there would be ANY hesitation in pulling down an ad for Poached Chicklets (that’s slang for ‘teeth’) from a Craigslist executive. (wink) 
 
The murder of the executive is not required, even though that would be analogous to the black market ivory trade experience. 
 
The infant children of the executive do not have to be left to die alone in halls of some air conditioned office building, even though that would better reflect the realities of the black market ivory trade. 
 
No, just teeth. Simply walk up to your nearest current or former Craigslist executive, including by proxy any eBay executives (that have purchased a 25% share in Craigslist), and punch them square in the mouth. Although brass knuckles will be effective at loosening teeth, peace officers are sure to frown upon their use. I’d recommend, after the first few punches, a good set of pliers will work much better at getting those black market Craigslist Chicklets free. 
 
Safety Tip: be sure to wear examination gloves while handling Craigslist executives. You just don’t know where they’ve been.

Advertisements

Dear Jo

God it’s been so long since I’ve put those words together. Listen, if you have access to music while you’re reading this, there’s a couple of songs I would have you play. The first is Heart of the Matter by Don Henley. Another would be Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat. Maybe some Zep like Going to California and That’s the Way for your second read through, or Kind Woman by Buffalo Springfield. There were many others I listened to while I wrote this (cuz I don’t type with ten fingers anymore), but I’m guessing you’ll be done reading much more quickly. The songs are to make this a full multimedia experience but also to describe my feelings while I’m writing. 
 
Because I’m actually writing to you. 
 
I’ve written several times before, well, at least to the “Little Jo” that was living inside my mind for a long time. But those efforts were just for me to clear my head, nothing really meant for you. Because It was damn-near a full decade after the last time I spoke with you before I could survive a day without thoughts of our times together brought me low. It took me all that time and more to figure out how or why it all went so wrong for me, for us. Truly, I still don’t really know, but I have enough ideas and theories that I’m satisfied with to create my own answers. So you can relax, because this is not me begging for explanations. 
 
Then what is it? 
 
How about a chance for me to say “I’m sorry”. 
 
First, I’m sorry if you ever felt afraid, threatened or even just frustration at my attentions. I wont’t say I always knew exactly what I was saying or doing, but I can say I failed to think about things from your perspective. I still have a lot of guilt about this. 
 
And I’m sorry for failing to pick up your hints, of both the “go away” and “come closer” varieties. For a long while, I was struggling with the juxtaposition of words said and what people meant. Now I understand that everyone does, from time to time. I won’t wax poetic about how different (who can know if better or worse) might have been, because despite the particulars I now feel like the grand scheme worked out for the best. I hope you do, too? 
 
Mostly, I’m sorry that we were unable to remain friends, even though it’s for selfish reasons. You see, Jo, there’s a gap in my history. There’s no one I can talk to about all the great bands I’ve seen, no one to remind me about being the runaway “Honkers’ List” King on 3d/e, no one to laugh about the late night bull sessions, and so on. Sometimes I wonder if it really did go down like I recall…. 
 
I’ve gotten to the point where I just don’t revisit those times, and as time has passed memories of you have faded. But like tonight, sometimes I dream of seeing you. Sometimes the whole gang is there, sometimes it’s just us. When I awake, I DO try to remember my favourite time with us together: just after our final exams that first semester you came to school. It was probably 3 or 4 in the morning, and you cooked up some KD, we were listening to The Doors, G ‘n’ R and Floyd and for some reason at some point we ended up rubbing macaroni in each other’s hair. Alcohol may have been inovlved…  
 
You hugged me so hard as we laughed about it afterward, and I try to hold that memory just as tightly now. 
 
I want to thank you for that moment. 
 
Pass my regards to Luke, Rob and the rest of your family. 
 
Always, 
 
s.

Hallelujah

Cohen (1984):

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Chorus.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

Chorus.

You say I took the name in vain
I don’t even know the name
But if I did, well really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Chorus.

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Chorus.
Chorus.

Buckley (1994):

Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this:
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Chorus.

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Chorus.

Baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor (you know)
I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Chorus.

There was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do ya?
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Chorus.

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it’s not a cry that you hear at night
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Chorus.
Chorus.

Laing (2015):

I always thought I’d do much better, friends. 
But then love became just a word 
marked by that dizzy waltzing mousey. 
So, now I sit alone in the dark each night 
putting things to right as best I might, 
A baffled king composing Hallelujah.

Chorus.

Proof was needed to fight the faithed 
Life all alone, tied to this chair 
Hoping to shoot straight if they outdrew me 
I received in-stead a lesson in dread 
I guess they’ll say now 
Beauty and the moonlight never deceived me 

Chorus.

It wasn’t enough, but I did my best 
I couldn’t pay, so I tried to steal 
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t speak to fool you. 
And even though it all went wrong 
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song 
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah 

Chorus.
Chorus.

Rocking not Chairs

Via Sideshowtoy.com 

Star Wars fans simply never cease to amaze us. Coming at you from some of the most incredible craftsmen and parents in the galaxy, check out these home made Star Wars inspired rocking chairs. Forget those old-fashioned horse models, this is the furniture every kid is looking for. 

GNIALS: 

Intergalactic Translation Union local 483Q9-epsilon reports: “Just to be clear, the accepted label for the manufactured versions of the beasts shown, and anything similar, should properly be known as a ‘hobby or rocking horse.’ 
 
Although the incorrectly mentioned ‘rocking chair’ share similarities (particularly of motion and the curious ability to induce feline anxieties), it is usually intended for more mature rockers (or, said rockers and their infant offspring) and very rarely breaks away from the chair form, even though individual designs can be unique. 

 

Please continue to strive toward clear communiques throughout the outer systems and keeping Local 483Q9-epsilon clone free during these trying times for your Emperor.