20 Jul 2007

Troupe Surge

My friends don't think i am crazy
or they know i am...
I howl with the moon, not at it.


In these days of Corporate Democracy and Media Wars

Fresh Air is needed

as Honest dialogue becomes more precious than diamonds or jade.

And so the Creator has sent us...

A Team



"In 2007 a crackhead commando unit was sent to prison by a military coup for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire: THE A-TEAM."

featuring:
Indigenous Grandmothers... at least one from each continent.
Indigenous Children... at least one boy and girl from each continent.
Lee "Scratch" Perry
the Dalai Lama
Nelson Mandela
a Jewish woman
a Palestinian woman
a Nazi
a Ninja
a Cowboy and an Indian
Conan O'Brien
anyone from Al Jazeera
Oprah Winfrey
Ellen DeGeneres
Stephen Colbert
Howard Stern
Subcomandante Marcos
the Queen of England
the Tsar of Russia
the Emporer of China
Rupert Murdoch
the Queen of the Tinkers
Julia Butterfly
a Muslim
Osama Bin Laden
the Pope
a Christian
President George Bush

and me.

You don't have to hire us even.

Just let us have a live online conversation about how to bring peace to earth

and not end it until noone wants to talk anymore.

...even if only 3 of the people on that list participate it would still help more than faith in our current future does.

...and it would help alot to let anyone hear it that wants to.

What are the impediments to this meeting of the minds?

nothing more than Commercial interruptions.

Beautiful Babylon Babies Unite !!!

This Blog existed after Bush II "the lesser" stole 2 elections, before Google ate Blogger,

This Blog existed after Bush II "the lesser" stole 2 elections, before Google ate Blogger,
Love Trumps hate.

Hits of the Month

Poetic HyperLinks Defeating the Impossibilities of Peace

Also sprach Zarathustra to the brothasistahs lost out in the woods…
Rolling stones and hurricanes prime us for the rapid eye movement of whose dream?
A stairway to the dark side of the moon reveals an orchestrated King
singing the blues while sexual pistols whip Jesus’ son.
Who’s influence weens us?
Me and my friends gratefully raged against the machine for three days
in the shadow of the valley of the dead
so big brother and company held us down while the wind cried
nothing to be gained here (except copied rights),
Then a questing tribe of beastly boys found a digable plant
where a buffalo soldier picked up a Gideon’s bible from the Godfather
in joe’s garage (or was it in one of 200 motels?)
Anyway, on a Holiday, the pinball wizard boy (Billie)
followed his heart and stopped pretending he was the king of the little plastic castles
while education, missed in the house of the naked apes, evolved and mutated
into and with ~ Nature Art Love Truth ~ and we do too…
And somewhere over the rainbow dancing fools send clowns and purple rain
into imagine nations where everything is now sacred
and there are no more public enemies or rusted Roots or minor threats
or bad brains or busted rhymes or widespread panic
and everyone can read the hieroglyphics on the wall
and we are all refugees of courtney’s love attaining nirvana….
But then again, you’re so vain, you probly think this poem’s about you-
we are everywhere and we cannot be beaten
it’s all over now baby blue, all we need is Love
Legalize It