Derring Don’t (album)

Three rough, single and first takes from the front lines. Equipment: Tascam DR-40, CAD22a, and instruments. Where any polish exists, I can guarantee it’s just spit. When you spend your days hiding and running from fellow flesh-eating cannibals and soul-sucking spirits from the sister dimension, you tend to do what you can, when you can, where you can. I tell production polish the same thing I tell the coming zombie apocalypse: get in line.

Consider this a first blush bridge over the gaping chasm between the not-so-random clash of sound we call music and other forms of linguistic storytelling that have, up to this point, left my output heavily segregated and schizoid.

By way of comfort, expect more of this sort until I, like everyone, eventually become food for someone else.

Everfear heavily references a popular anthem of disaffected youth and teenage angst from the roaring 90s, and punts it squarely like a burning sack of shit into the pristine courtyard of normalized exploitation, where it belongs.

Ziggy Dies Hungry arrived in a dream early one morning as a tribute to the recent passing of You Know Who. It translates the remnant ruminations of an ancient vampire while he decays after being bitten by the Love Bug in all the wrong ways and in all the wrong places.

LGM captures a pivotal moment of lonely sadness where I thought horizontal violence would win the battle of the week, if not the war. I swear someday Kermit the Frog will sing it again. He stood there with me while I wrote it for him.

Visit the links for lyrics.

031114 opulent minority

031114
—
the rights inherent to real, natural persons
who form natural communities
as part of the nature existing underneath
around and inside you and me

vs

the rights implied in the profit
and property of corporate personhood
where, legally, persons become property
as potential profit for these
fictitious corporate entities
who exist exclusively to accumulate wealth

to benefit the “opulent minority”
as they once called themselves
while hiding behind an armed-guard
veil of secret, opulent exclusivity
of english common legal convention
to frame a document, counter revolutionary
to secure their interests (slavers, all)
against the interests of the many

tell me: who are the few, real people
to derive real benefit from slavery?
chattel, domestic “women’s work” and wage
all the same, to benefit or enslave
the people like you and me?

tell me, where do you see yourself existing:
as part of nature, with inherent rights
or as part of the Framer’s legal fictionality
where most rights are rights denied
whereas the rest apply in practice
as privileges, as if the right
to beg and scrape and grovel at the feet
of this “opulent minority” for something
i might hope to receive — when
it already exists deep inside of me,
inherent to my being — should seem a privilege,
given to and taken from us as they please?
while they demand we serve down on our knees

i demand dignity.  from this point on
i live and die free, on my feet, i fight
for the inherent rights of natural people
for the liberation of the many
for the self-determination of the meek
for the health, safety and welfare of my community
for nature, for democracy.   i will conspire to break
and abolish any law — just a mess of text on paper
from the foolish rule of the few — that seeks
to deny to anyone their life and liberty
toward the pursuit of happiness.

i stand ready. if you do, too
you can come find me, or i can find you.