DrW

Courage, my word It didn't come, it doesn't matter Courage, your word It didn't come, it doesn't matter Courage, my word It didn't come, it doesn't matter Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time There's no simple Explanation For anything important Any of us do And, yeah, the human Tragedy Consists in The necessity Of living with The consequences Under pressure Under pressure

Well I put down my bush 'N I took off my pants 'n felt free The breeze blowin' up me 'n up the canyon Far as I could see It's night now and the moon looks like uh dandelion It's black now 'n the blackbirds feedin' on rice 'N his red wings look like diamonds 'n lice

I never had a chance to choose my own name I'd never know why I should be stuck with mine Mommy's always talkin' 'bout family pride And daddy's always hiding 'bout his weekend rides All day long, I felt like Smashing my neck in a clear glass window But instead, I went out And smashed up a station wagon 'round the block

A squid eating dough in a Polyethylene bag Is fast and bulbous, got me? When she wears her bolero then she begin to dance All the pachucos start witholdin' hands When she drives her Chevy, sissies don't dare to glance Yellow jackets 'n red debbles buzzin' round her hair, hive-ho She wears her past like a present Take her fancy in the past Her sedan skims along the floorboard Her two pipes hummin' carbon come Got her wheel out of a B-29 Bomber, Brody knob amber Spanish fringe 'n talcum tazzles forever amber She looks like an old squaw Indian She ninety-nine, she won't go down Avocado green 'n alfalfa yellow adorn her to the ground Tattoos 'n tarnished utensils, a snow white bag full o' tunes Drives a cartoon around Drives a cartoon around Broma-Seltzer blue umbrella keeps her up off the ground Round red sombreros wrap her high tap horsey shoes When she unfolds her umbrella, pachucos got the blues Her lovin' make me so happy If I smiled, I'd crack my chin Her eyes are so peaceful, thinks it's heaven she been Her skin is as smooth as the daisies In the center where the sun shines in Smiles as sweet as honey Her teeth as clean as the combs where the bees go in Who she walks flowers surround her Let their nectar come into the air around her She loves, her love sticks out like stars Her lovin' stick out like stars

I thought I'd make it The day you went away But I can't make it 'Til you come home again to stay Every time I see your face, it reminds me of the places We used to go But all I've got is a photograph, and I realise you're not Comin' back anymore

Most recently I have read "The Man in the High Castle" by Philip Dick. I was aware that the book only covered a small part of the TV series, but I was still a bit disappointed. I very much liked the added story lines of the TV program.

Winning percentage is a measurable quantity, media ranking is completely subjective.

When I was a postdoc in Rochester in the 1990s, we went to visit NYC (by Amtrak, which was a very enjoyable experience compared to flying). Overall, I did not like NYC very much; due to the excessive number of panhandlers, I was constantly afraid of getting mugged. For me, the saving grace was the MoMA. I love modern art, and I spent a whole day at the MoMA (still not enough, by far. As a side note to Buffalo residents, if you are interested in arts or specifically modern arts, you are lucky to have the Albright Knox, which is superior to other arts museums even in much bigger cities.) Back to the topic. On our last day in NYC, we visited Central Park. A group of rollerskaters passed me, and suddenly I heard my name called out. One of the skaters had been a fellow grad student back in Luebeck (Germany) where we got our PhDs. Considering the fact that the total number of grad students in the lab during that time was 5-6 per year, the probability to meet one of them by chance 5000 miles away from Germany was virtually nil. We had a drink and then we went our separate ways. He is now retiring from Columbia University in NYC; I am still doing research and teaching at Texas Tech.

A Place To Bury Strangers, the noisietst band in NY

Strange days have found us Strange days have tracked us down They're going to destroy Our casual joys We shall go on playing Or find a new town Yeah! Strange eyes fill strange rooms Voices will signal their tired end The hostess is grinning Her guests sleep from sinning Hear me talk of sin And you know this is it

To me, the timing appears to indicate that Billstime has been replaced by Starr-Bills. If this is true that it is the same poster, I think both sides of the political spectrum on PPP should appreciate the step. Starr-Bills seems as much on the left side as Billstime, but his argumentation is definitively improved. If you are Starr-Bills and did not previously post as Billstime, my apologies. I appreciate your contributions.

Like, oh my God (valley girl) Like - totally (valley girl) Encino is like so bitchen (valley girl) There's like the Galleria (valley girl) And like all these like really great shoe stores I love going into like clothing stores and stuff I like buy the neatest mini-skirts and stuff It's like so bitchen 'cause like everybody's like super-super nice It's like so bitchen

The Wiggles

Sundown dazzling day Gold through my eyes But my eyes turned within Only see Starless and bible black Ice blue silver sky Fades into grey To a grey hope that oh years to be Starless and bible black

Monday, nothing Tuesday, nothing Wednesday and Thursday nothing Friday, for a change a little more nothing Saturday once more nothing reading nothing writing nothing even arithmetic nothing geography, philosophy, history, nothing social anthropology a lot of nothing

"Dr Nancy" has a very moderate history on social media, especially "X" ("truthlovingdr"). I assume she is an MD, but her specialty is never mentioned (maybe retired). She is an anti-vaxxer and long-time supporter of RFK Jr. Thus, her switch to Trump is no surprise. If this is the best example of new Trump devotees, then there is not much the Democrats have to fear.

She came in through the bathroom window Protected by a silver spoon But now she sucks her thumb and wanders By the banks of her own lagoon Didn't anybody tell her? Didn't anybody see? Sunday's on the phone to Monday Tuesday's on the phone to me

Take the train from Casablanca going south Blowing smoke rings from the corners of my my, my, my, my mouth Colored cottons hang in air Charming cobras in the square Striped Djellebas we can wear at home, well let me hear you now Don't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express Don't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express

Woman is the ni**er of the world Yes she is, think about it Woman is the ni**er of the world Think about it, do something about it We make her paint her face and dance If she won't be a slave, we say that she don't love us If she's real, we say she's trying to be a man While putting her down we pretend that she is above us Woman is the ni**er of the world, yes she is If you don't believe me take a look to the one you're with

I went to shake hands with the president in Miami I went to a rock show to see Mick Jagger And you'd never believe it, surprise of my life They had paint on their faces, just like my mommy's

I may look like a city slicker Shinin' up through his shoes Underneath I'm just a cotton picker Pickin' out a mess of blues Show me where I start Find a horse and cart I'm just a country boy Country boy at heart

And then Lord Donald he took his wife And he sat her on his knee Saying, "Who do you like the best of us Matty Groves or me?" And then up spoke his own dear wife Never heard to speak so free "I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips Than you or your finery"

More from Canada: Max Webster

"White Rabbit" by The Great Society, Grace Slick's band pre-Jefferson Airplane. Despite the 6+ minutes of the track, the song itself sees to be played faster here than in the JA version. However, it comes with a 4+ min Arabic-sounding intro with Grace on oboe.

Now listen, Baby And try to understand That tying you is fine And whipping you is grand Now I just can't tell you How much fun it's been You make me feel twenty-five again But I can't leave my wooden wife for you, sugar I got a split level house with a wonderful view, sugar A couple next door who do the things we do, sugar And every Saturday we sit around the pool