
The track “I Am the Sun” sounds like a mix between guitarist Tim Henson and the singing capability of Murray Head…
Poetry Analysis

The track “I Am the Sun” sounds like a mix between guitarist Tim Henson and the singing capability of Murray Head…

A fellow band called Waifish contacted me on a music review app called MusicBoard about a mysterious album called Milk Take. They apologized for its unprofessional recording technique, but if we’re being honest, the album sounds pretty solid coming out of my Google Pixel 6a phone.
Reminiscent of some more chilled psychedelic rock styling of Tuf Francis, Barenaked Ladies, and Blind Melon, there style is more in the vein of jam sessions of the early 1990s neo-hippies movement, their sound is comforting as I remember a childhood favorite show like Pete and Pete, where this band would have been showcased.
A track like “Every Girl I Fall in Love With Dies” is reminiscent of a song called “Search and Destroy” by The Stooges. Their solos utilize a reverb like effect that brings up memories of 1950s surfer rock, and even has a liberating feel as the band embraces pastiche solos that mostly have gone extinct in the contemporary music scene.
Milk Talk is a soothing slice of comforting for millennials raised on FM radio in Ohio, and while hardly innovative or groundbreaking, simply reminds me of better years when my own heart was not filled with jealousy of celebrities who make me feel welcome spiritually, knowing I cannot always be with them in person. One day we will jam together, as I remember my own band Neutral Tones and wonder how much influence we actually had.
A band like Aerosmith wants to jam with everyone, knowing how difficult it is to overcome time and labor, let alone distances across galaxies only women know how to cross. As our hearts break over unfulfilled desires we only begin to understand as adults, we too remember wonderful memories none can take from us, no matter how much we bury our faults in our own hearts…
😭✌️

A Catholic principle often taught during a 3 year cycle is that as a follower of Christ, we should lower ourselves to lift up others, a move that could be humorous in Japanese cultures that know how to keep bowing as they back away from each other
The.lroblem with this teaching when boomers, or as some say are imitators of bad cultures, fail to actually look up a word in the dictionary and make a distinction between behavior that is becoming exploitive in their dishonesty.
As 80 year old Franciscan nuns smaller than Diane Lane just take care of themselves and lift heavy suitcases for 60 year old women who embarrassingly rely on wheelchairs and walkers as they lie to themselves about fear of losing their social security disability payments when all they really are doing is being lazy. This behavior is typical of southern women who do not actually follow any code of politeness or etiquette, but simply expect others to do for them what they do not do for others.
This is gross and to many obscene behavior is simply exploitation, and for children who are now in their 40s and starting to feel their own bodies exhaust, slavery. This is how the Roman style of abuse begins, as many in denial America s slowly begin to accept they are quoting and worshiping Roman Catholics, a church that split from the Greek Orthodox Church.
Following a Roman church is fine for beginners of faith that can be pretty theological, but the struggle begins when these now form holders of the papal authority deny their own culture they are adhering to. When told they are acting like Romans, which they are by being guilty of association, they get angry as they slowly realize they probably came from Rome.
Being raised in a parochial school system, my own heart broke as my family church at St. Louis Church ran out of money and simply closed its doors. Father John was our priest, a considerate and welcoming figure who valued humility and actually practiced servitude by telling the history of a historical soup kitchen in East Toledo that probably put Chicago humanitarian Al Capone to shame as he realized he too was exploring charitable services to get the Federal Bureau of Investigation off his back.
As dishonest believers are challenged by anaBaptists who are following Yeshua’s teaching to follow him as he brings a sword that puts children against their parents, in a war that often leads to humiliation and incarceration. As Yeshua himself was being reduced to an opposing gender, calling his mother a woman which probably caused her to throw her secret silver fork in anger, they too began to realize their own passions and jealousies, slowly acknowledging they too had dreams that were left to be fulfilled.
The point in this sermon is simple: be like the Franciscan nun who carries her own weight without screaming in anger, following her own faith that not every American agrees to. I never bowed down to a Catholic church, because deep down in my heart, I am simply not a Catholic…
😭
Discovering musicians I only enjoy in Bentonville, I hear history of people afforded a land I see through car windows and at festivals, often wondering where they hide when the gig is no longer calling.
I hear Crystal Bowersox and a woman I wonder if I am attracted to or not, often questioning what I would even say to someone who practices their instrument more than I am able to do.
To.be continued…
Building on the heroism of post 9/11 efficiency of protocol, Miami Vice might be the greatesr b-film ever stylized about a director who simply refuses to give in to faggots’ demands, well into his 70s now. The film famously opens with an in media res shot synchronized to the downbeat of a Linkin Park and Jay Z mashup that bolsters a quick disappointment as a femme fatale style dancer is seductively cut away to a boring handheld camera shot that rips the rug from under audiences who would even pick up on the hint of how style can dictate meaning in a movie.
The film is banal in its ability to offend audiences who find Colin Ferrel’s mullet in poor taste, themselves in disbelief that the gay campiness of the 1980s television show is forgone for what is essentially a straight laced police thriller.
The soundtrack, one I found on YouTube, does not include the opening song, the score itself disappointing audiences who crave to capture the allure of a steadicame shot Mann simply will not give, begging film directors to use seduction in their own visions to trance naive millennials into a hypnotic gaze.
I imagine a steady shot on a mulatto in silhouette, her eyes closed in a dance for a daughter only a few men will appreciate, her body on display for all, but her mind for herself. Ferrel sips a cocktail as Jamie Foxx feels a pulse in his chest, asking what he has to offer to a Cubano community still lost in the allure of cocaine and incense, a lung full of smoke from a bong, as our scene slowly fades.
Perhaps what audiences demand from this thought provoking film is less why director Michael Mann does not give us what we demand, and more why we crave a better music video that no one is delivering in an initiative industry that does not know how to let a camera roll without groan inducing action shots.
Even silent film directors from the 1920s cut to the bears, while a select fed trust the uncomfortableness of a gaze only a painter and poet can admire.
A mulatto dances to her own child’s heart, as a detective sips his mojito, unphased by the passion on display…
I really do not like to write about awards, because honestly, I simply do not have time to watch all of the animations before they are awarded.
But if I had to make a few selections. I would have given the best picture, best actress, and maybe best screenplay to Emilia Perez, a completely mishandled award campaign off of a few questionable posts from the lead actress.
A tribute to the Spanish soap opera, the film features a bevy of historically trans accurate gay music that is flat and often hilariously horrendous when isolated from the flow of the narrative. The film is stirring in the Operatic rise of a main character who clearly is a gangster who has simply swapped genitals without shedding their anger and inability to handle a conflict with maturity.
Giving the best lead actress award to a former man would be questionable, but if genitals is all that distinguishes a woman and man, then I have to ask, what really makes a human a man or woman what others seem they are. Having a former man mop the floor in an abysmal lineup with questionably nominated films would have sent a message to Hollywood to either put up or shut up. We had to gag as we digested a decade of uneducated retards who had no business giving political speeches because they cannot even remember the pledge of allegiance in the USA. Naturally, the actress, Karla Sofía Garcón, will one day be exonerated as progressives bend over backwards to explain how their inner hatred simply got the best of them, mirroring the film’s plot.
Aside from Wicked, and maybe the But just, Perez should have swept these nominations clean. Instead, the awards will go down as giving Sean Baker four fucking Oscars, as the Spirit Awards were literally rendered obsolete.
👎
Frank Herbert is not an English graduate, nor does he ever pretend to be a talented writer. Part of the magic of this novel, a classic in soft science-fiction, is that Frank breaks one of Stephen King’s cardinal rules on writing: do not share the thoughts of different characters within the same chapter. Frank. Who was most definitely aware of this arbitrary rule, not only made his mission statement in this introductory book his life’s work, but was so bold as to switch between different character’s thoughts within the same paragraph.
The effect is quite disorienting. Like a bad trip of lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD, or acid to some), the effect makes this book appear impenetrable to most readers at first. I will admit that when I first glanced through this book back in the early 2000s, I was intrigued but simply could not make it past the first few chapters. I was still stubbornly stuck in the mindset of reading every book word for word, to make sure the effort counted.
But by the year 2018, while forced into a state hospital in Atascadero, California, I simply had no other books to read. The hospital had a small library where residents in the hospital could peruse during our down time. I was not in the mood to read books but with literally nothing to do, I found a few Maxx comic books (issues numbers 1, 2, and 4 – 3 was missing)and then made my way to Frank Herbert’s book.
Whatever the reason, this time the book was not nearly as impenetrable. Perhaps through connections to his ghost the book began to reveal itself as I was made aware of the technique Herbert was employing to create this disorienting effect that makes his book so hard to read at first. I do not think it would be wrong for many English graduates and literature enthusiasts, Dune is not an easy book to read. Rebellion is a cause Herbert believes in as an outdoorsman. He himself was kind of a lazy student. More concerned with eating and trying to get out of harsh abuse from parents who were too young and uneducated to raise a child without being monsters, he cared about people who found meaning out of this need to not follow the rules.
What intrigued me more as a religious student, however, is less the rebellious nature of a writer who lacks consistency, and more of an Islamic allure of a region on the globe that few people take the time to appreciate. I met a woman who claimed to be the wife of Ishmael back in the early 2000s while under the painful drug Serroquel. We rested with each other for a few days through a somatic relationship in which we shared an empathetic connection with our hearts. Living with my father, he turned off the heat and recommended I purchase a heated blanket.
This woman, whom I believe revealed herself as Kadija, asked me to look up Islam on the website Wikipedia. I explained I believed in Christ but did not follow Yeshua too closely, as I simply rejected the heresay that Jesus is God, a satanic teaching that began sometime in the early 1990s. She asked if I could ever follow this religion, to which I responded I would consider, but probably would convert later in my life.
Dune was being rumored to be adapted by a director at the time this occurred, probably circa 2012 or 2014. Listening to my older brother James, I tried to watch director David Lynch’s Dune for the third time, and as I told James every time,.was such a disappointment I nearly puked wondering what the hell Reddit users saw in his film adaptation. The visuals are murky, the walls in some scenes bright orange and green, purely an expression of the hatred Lynch felt at himself for betraying his own need to make original art and not to play in other people’s sandboxes.
For what it was worth. Herbert, who was practically on his deathbed and months away from the grave, was kind enough to give The film his approval. But what he saw in the film was probably a reflection of later B-film style humor he was incorporating into his baffling God Emperor of Dune, in which Herbert probably recognized how Lunch was showcasing the history of cinematic science-fiction with what was probably a more perverted depiction of the Barron.
People are offended that Lynch and Herbert would make homosexuals the villains in their tale but historically im Arabian literature, homosexuals have always been the bad guys. By definition, they rape men by forcing themselves into their anuses without consent. To deny this narrative is to completely misunderstand the narrative that every homosexual must accept they have gone through in their own life.
The act of being gay is not what makes the Barron and the Harkonnen family bad guys. It is their lust that goes unchecked that makes them disgusting. Rather than believe in romance and actual affection for other men, they simply demand they get what they want which historically was how homosexuals acted (and too many, still act.this way today). According to a pastor at a church I attend occasionally (New Life on Oregon, Ohio), homosexuality is a sin. This is a belief I have to admittedly agree with as a bisexual.
Homosexuals tend to offend with their need to rebel. Usually as a way of protesting a culture that bullies them with insults, it is a behavior that often goes unchecked and manifests itself in ugly ways later in adulthood. We call this type of behavior faggoted, because these homosexuals act like a bundle of sticks. A joke in Norway folklore is that a stick that sticks with other sticks, aka a bundle of sticks, which by definition is a faggot, cannot be broken. The response is to take that bundle and throw it into a flame. A faggot cannot be broken, but they most certainly can be burned. Like a flamer who needs to cool off, that is how one gets a faggot to calm their tits and act less offensive to cultures who have no time with their need to share their emotions to a world because for the first time in their life they get to announce who they are.
Homosexuality itself can be defined as a sin because as the book of Deuteronomy warns, “Beware a man who sleeps with another man like a woman”. The Torah specifically does not use the words ‘homosexual’, ‘gay’, or ‘lesbian’ in the King James Bible. It specially makes sure to impart that when a man sleeps with a man like a woman, they are treating that man like a woman, and not a man. The word homosexual does not impart any connotation of love or romance, but simply is defined as a sexual attraction to the members of the same sex.
My understanding of the word comes from the New American Heritage dictionary, which can be quoted defining the word homosexual as thus;
Of, relating to, or having a sexual orientation to persons of the same sex.
n.
Nowhere in that definition does it suggest or explicitly state (literalism) anything about romance or love. It simply states that a homosexual has a sexual orientation to a person of the same sex, which quite literally means people.who are sexually attracted to other people like themselves. If one disagrees with assessment of a choice in sexual preference, and even faggots will tell you calling yourself a homosexual is a choice, them the response is maybe they hate women because they choose to disgust themselves.
The biggest irony on all of this is uncritical anger over a historically accurate representation of Islam. Nowhere in the book does Herbert even refer to the Harkonnen family members as gay or homosexuals. If we really want to be honest, they are closer to pansexual in that they will literally fuck anything that moves, which is an ultimate expression of greed. The question of their family is why they double down on this iniquity, to the point that Herbert literally argues that their unchecked behavior becomes encoded into their genetics.
A savior will impart that one can choose to change their behavior, but that is an individual choice that one has to make on their own. Herbert suggests this teaching in his slimmer sequel Dune Messiah, in which the author goes out of his way to insist the readers get the message that following in the footsteps of Muhammed does not automatically make one a hero.
We could explore this introductory book that is the Bible of soft science-fiction to many, but if that is the case, I as an educator might want to continue this thematic and religious exploration of what really is a fascinating retelling of Islamic history to western audiences who probably were not even followers of Christianity yet. Herbert lived on the West Coast of the United States of America in the 1960s, and undoubtedly dealt with some of the most retarded faggots and hippies one honest to God cannot believe actually exist. Watch a documentary like Robby Starbuck’s movie “The War on Children”, and you will want to weep at the biggest adult babies who are so butthurt over a bad southern Baptist joke, in which a chauvinist and maybe sexist man simply says, “Woman are not allowed to talk”.
In Islam. This is actually an acceptable teaching, and a major reason why men and women are segregated by biological determiners. Men sit on the left, and women sit on the right. The joke is meant to put a woman in their place. By definition, a woman has a smaller brain than a man, and thereby is too stupid to keep their mouth shut and listen when their emotions get hurt because they are not allowed to talk. This is a form of biblical authority, as expressed by Apostle Paul, when he states that men should be the ones leading a congregation (I lack a source for this paraphrase by trust my reverend at New Life).
Such is the drama Frank Herbert, an intelligent author lacking any actual formal education beyond a Western American high school, had to deal with in his own household, as his wife greedily began lusting over a t-bone steak as Frank simply told his wife, “you are getting fat, bitch”. This drove his wife into a tailspin of fury as his son Brian undoubtedly had to watch all of this. In amazement of how dumb American women behave. They only eat when other people eat, and are so far up Queen Victoria’s own asshole they cannot realize what modernism is, let alone contemporaryism.
We impart all of this to offend progressives, because bigotry is a universally undetstood language understood by open to discussion children and thoughtful men and women who want to be included in afemiv discussions they are too inarticulate to handle. If one can simply reject their parent’s political party and get over their unfounded hatred of the word “Republican”, they will begin to understand their need to be represented by a representative who can at least relay the information to these Democrats who simply must practice patience. The USA is a Republic, most definitely at the federal level, and as Arabic countries grapple with identity crisis and misrepresentation in the most repulsive council the United Nations (should called United Countries – because borders matter), then maybe the Arabian empire can finally dissolves as Arabic countries find a way to make themselves a Republic, and not a democracy.
My biggest complaint with the Bush administration during President George W. Bush’s time as a president was the most idiotic statement that American Marines were bringing Democracy (which is simply defined as rule of the majority 🤢🤮🤮🤮) to these countries, when these bigoted and hateful soldiers, quite possibly foreign terrorists themselves, should have been declaring we are going to bring these countries a Republic.
But if we are to discuss international politics, that perhaps is a discussion for a season of Star Trek, and perhaps Star Wars as well. Herbert saw further, going as far as ten thousand years between books, as he simply gave up on finishing this book franchise by himself in his current lifetime. A Buddhist who probably wanted to experience birth again, it is his son Brian Patrick Herber who carries this torch for a franchise that is quietly rivaling Tolkien’s own behemoth the Middle Earth franchise for most intriguing fantasy series.
Find more of these discussions on the Verse Universe YouTube channel. Over at: https://youtube.com/shorts/GTB-6_ekJGA?si=he6gO2bfjLwKRFeN
this review was originally intended for MusicBoard

Buddhists posit that a way to unlock hidden gems in reality is to find a way to make an expression that has never been stated. A question I have for composers alive before my own current birth is whether the composer Andrew Lloyd Webber was responding to the musical Amadeus, or whether the inclusion of a requiem in the Marriage of Figaro sequence in the film Amadeus was an inclusionary approval of Webber’s own inclusion in the mention of classical music composition.
Fellow rival John Williams must have certainly felt betrayed to hear the hints of the song Pie Jesu as the film drew to its riveting second act, but probably knew deep down in his heart he was more pastiche in symphonic bombastism than Webber, who is a purist of theatrical productions, offering just enough hints of contemporaryism to technically qualify his music as something original.
The album Requiem is a rarity I have never found in the wild. Cryptically hinted to as a musical, the beauty of this production was that it was a concert score presented on traditional theatrical stages, rather than in more formal and respected concert halls, like the Peristyle Theater in Toledo, Ohio.
Webber’s thesis was simple: classical music should be available to all, a sentiment I can appreciate, though struggle with as an appreciator of art museums and formalism in an age where architecture is completely ignored. The acoustics of a theater like the Stranahan must have indicated its own sense of betrayal to classical purists. We find ways of seeking out gifts and experiences that cost nothing, usually at the behest of taxpayers who believe in democracies at a local level.
Having to pay the price of an off-Broadway production to witness an actual concert by esteemed composer Andrew Lloyd Webber must have hurt the hearts of many of his devotees, but sprinkled the delight of audiophiles who are wise enough to seek out a production of his work that can be enjoyed in the comfort of one’s own home.
My own mother has the original recording of Jesus Christ Superstar, an equally important album because that was the theatrical production. Unable to secure a place to rehearse, the performers simply chose to release the production as an album, frustrating theater purists who could not believe the tracks on the album did not have proper beginnings and endings. Webber learned from this mistake, embracing the single format of folk music and making a distinction for himself as a traditional composer able to secure covers by popular artists who believed in the power of radio.
The obvious allusion of this considerable work is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s own unfinished Requiem (though to believers in spirit channeling the work was finished by a channeler with the energy of Mozart himself). Wikipedia tells us that Webber was alluding to his own father’s death, but if we are being honest, the 1980s must have been a special time to be alive in the music scene of composers simply finding ways to make their hearts and souls be heard.
Requiem is classical music, and certainly worthy of being canonized as a work of a composer who has earned his status as one of the greats of the post-romantic windfall of classical composition. Frank Zappa earns notches, John Williams comes in at a distant second, but if anyone seriously listens to popular music of the last century, Webber’s presence is felt the most. Taking the cinematic codification from equally maligned composer Arnold Schoenberg, Webber simply breathed life into a genre of music that most composers simply will never reach. I have no other compliment to give; I am jealous and I am appreciative of his contributions to music that begs to take its time to appreciate. This is classical music.
❤️

Manhattan’s is a gem of uptown culture in Toledo. Ohio; delicate in presentation, with a focus on courtier presentation. I must admit that while I ball at their prices. I come back for an arrogant atmosphere that is impressed with cultural sophistication few labor party members are willing to concede to.
Last time I made the error of listening to Moses and ordering the abhorrently priced Fettuccini Alfredo with Salmon, a fulfilling fish that left me heartbroken over not purchasing a far more heavier salami (and perhaps pastrami) sandwich.
I began my lunch with a questionably priced small plate of fried Green tomatoes, priced at $14USD that while off-putting, is earned with its presentation.

Sadly, the main course I ordered the standby Reuben with fries, a newbie mistake made by ignorance and the realization I will have to return for the far more satiating pastrami sandwich. A Reuben by nature is my favorite dish. But when in the distress of uptown Toledo. Sometimes a little exploration into unfamiliarity is required to appreciate all that a local culture has to offer.
The lunch was satisfactory but a slight disappointment, but the reward for helping my community all the more worth the $40USD spent on a presentation more restaurants should strive for.
I shall return…