11 Apr 2010

What time is my heart? (translated from spanish to gringo ingles)...lyrics by Manu Chao

Zapatista: The Ultimate Revolutionary and the Battle for Your Mind

They’re right in the heart of things now. In the middle of that thing that cannot exist, that MUST not exist. The Global Mind. The thing that they are terrified of. Yes, them. Those bastards that divide us and tell us we are small and nothing. Why do you think they nip creativity in the bud and attack positivity and those who fight for their values and convictions ? Why ? Because it is all so fragile my friends. All it takes is one voice, ONE dissenting voice to stand up and say … NO. ENOUGH ! … Then the entire charade starts coming unglued. This is why they are terrified of you… YOU. They are terrified that you will stand up and say no. They are terrified that other people will think … why ? And then the powerlessness of power itself is revealed.
We are on the road to Realidad. We are on the road to reality.


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