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Mar 28, 2010
Impotent Kings
It is fitting that the most popular morning radio talk show for the entirety of the Bush Cartel's reign of terror and destruction is Howard Stern, out of N.Y.C.
Downright Biblical.
Especially since he repeatedly advocates that the only solution for Peace in the Middle East is to allow Israel to annihilate every neighbor that contests their expansion through nuclear war, turning their lands into one huge parking lot.
I was in elementary school when i began listening to his show. It was pure genius.
To summarize:
He was a N.Y.C. local who was raised in the traditions of Judaism, Rock and Roll, and Television. His radio pedigree began with his father, who had spent decades in the recording studios of the Big Apple, allowing Howard access to that world from birth.
He was agnostic, irreverent, horny, brave and disgusting. His show revealed a world of people and jokes that had never seen public exposure. He had inhaled, and snorted, and loved quaaludes. When Nancy Reagan was telling us to "JUST SAY NO!" (while popping her pills), Howard had already said yes. He did not advocate drug abuse, but was not afraid to discuss and acknowledge it.
He was married and monogamous. He was raising children that continued his ancestors' Jewish traditions. His wife was an angel.
By declaring his spiritual doubts live every morning, by renouncing his ancestral faith to all of the listeners, he was (and is) a spiritual warrior.
Kings cannot ascend thrones without allies. His were priceless.
1~ His Queen, Robin Ophelia Quivers. A smart, accepting, challenging, proud, patriotic, sexy and single black woman. As a Christian, her tolerance of Howard's statements and antics passively enabled the God-fearing public to enter his show's dysfunctional universe.
2~ His General, the brilliant and subversive maestro of the subconscious... Fred Norris. He was the show's bard, using any sound to sculpt the show's mood and direction.
3~ His Court Jester, the Jewish pothead known as Jackie the Jokeman. He was also the resident elder on the show.
4~ His Governor, Baba Booey... whom he openly ridiculed and occasionally despised (but allowed to produce the show)... the sycophantic, good-hearted Gary Dell'Abate.
5~ His Town Cryer, the offensive but lovable Stuttering John.
The King of All Media sat on his throne first as a hero of his own design, Fartman. Using his mastery of the N.Y.C. English language and slang, he wrapped himself in the American flag and called the Iranian Embassy. The U.S. military had just killed 290 innocent civilians when they shot down an Iranian passenger jet.
As Fartman, Howard told the man at the embassy that he sided with America on that horrible situation, because Iran had killed 9 hostages, and then he delivered his intended message, which was a bunch of farts.
Those farts propelled him to his ascendancy. Now he cuts deals for half a Billion dollars and he holds the entire satellite radio industry in the palm of his hand.
He doesn't call embassies anymore... but his colleagues are enlisted by the U.S. Military to go on trips to Afghanistan and support our troops.
His shows now focus on finding media references to himself and dissecting them. Or exploring his fear of direct physical contact with the natural world and the people within it. Or defending the words that fly out of his mouth when they make waves that he can see.
Like David Letterman, his humor grows more bitter and self-involved day by day.
Who or what can usurp his rule?
America continues to tune in, waiting to see.
Beautiful Babylon Babies Unite !!!
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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
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