[Proposal] Cosmos Café - Music Edition

The rap gods are like, you’re welcome.

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Capitalism, according to many thinkers, is over. The bubble has popped, the Ponzi scheme collapsed, the Federal Reserve has lost its nerve. So what happens next?

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Many, and ever more, it would seem, yet the scramble is great to silence the pop and shore up the scheme, and even the Fed outed itself about its money magic when we went over the pandemic cliff. So what happens next? Good question.

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Us, and them

And after all were only ordinary men.

Me, and you.

God only knows it’s not what we would choose to do.

Forward he cried from the rear

And the front rank died.

And the general sat and the lines on the map

Moved from side to side.

Black and blue

And who knows which is which and who is who.

Up and down.

But in the end it’s only round and round.

Haven’t you heard it’s a battle of words

The poster bearer cried.

Listen son, said the man with the gun

There’s room for you inside.

I mean, they’re not gunna kill ya, so if you give em a quick short,

Sharp, shock, they wont do it again. dig it? I mean he get off

Lightly, cos I wouldve given him a thrashing - I only hit him once!

It was only a difference of opinion, but really…i mean good manners

Don’t cost nothing do they, eh?

Down and out

It can’t be helped but there’s a lot of it about.

With, without.

And wholl deny it’s what the fightings all about?

Out of the way, it’s a busy day

Ive got things on my mind.

For the want of the price of tea and a slice

The old man died.

It Seems the Old Farts here at Cosmos are Channeling some Ghosts from the Past
manifesting in the Present,we did find Music the salve for our particular Zeitgeist?

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Geist is the German word for “ghost” (and more. In other contexts, it is “spirit” (cf. John 3:8), or even that English catch-all, “mind”).

Some “ghosts”, it would appear, are more time-bound than others, or than we thought, or are they?

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There are the ghosts of old farts lurking in the background but I am very careful to avoid the old fart category as much as possible I have seen that label used to abuse the elderly. I take cold showers, work out, eat well, draw, dance, sing and watch the metaphors people use. I feel youthful which is not the same as feeling young. I don’t want to feel young again. Music is a wonderful way of touching a non-linear complexity. The songs that we choose have a time and place and a cluster of memories. Good music also has something timeless working through us and beyond us, music is spooky action at a distance. It is sad that we do not live in a country for old men. In Africa, it has been said, that when an old man dies it is like a library being burned down. I want to become a burning library!

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It seems John we have some resonance & dissonance arising it seems. I take your point that a metaphor can be used in a abusive fashion, I for one can sense when it’s being used as a form of endearment ,as my son & nephews do & when it comes across in the fashion U seem to point out . The Use of Language is a Powerful Ability for the User of & the Hearer Of:

Therefore I request that U give me the benefit of the Doubt,we’re both Sensitive in this area for our own reasons. I come from a willingness to own the ability to respond in interacting with the Power of Language for Good or Bad.I Hear your come from & yet I don’t come from there,words like any objects of our creation can land in hurtful ways and also it depends on the thrower & the catcher,like U have expressed there are Language Games, I was engaged in one. All this to say I find “Old Fart” as I used it a Artistic Expression in a specific context .

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You have more than than the benefit of my doubt, Michael, I totally support your use of the word, for the resonance it has for you and others. You can be an old fart ( when you want to be) and it can be a form of self-mockery that is totally acceptable. So, old farts of the wold, let it rip!?

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"I Contain Multitudes"

Today, and tomorrow, and yesterday, too
The flowers are dyin’ like all things do
Follow me close, I’m going to Bally-na-Lee
I’ll lose my mind if you don’t come with me
I fuss with my hair, and I fight blood feuds
I contain multitudes

Got a tell-tale heart like Mr. Poe
Got skeletons in the walls of people you know
I’ll drink to the truth and the things we said
I’ll drink to the man that shares your bed
I paint landscapes, and I paint nudes
I contain multitudes

A red Cadillac and a black mustache
Rings on my fingers that sparkle and flash
Tell me, what’s next? What shall we do?
Half my soul, baby, belongs to you
I rollick and I frolic with all the young dudes
I contain multitudes

I’m just like Anne Frank, like Indiana Jones
And them British bad boys, The Rolling Stones
I go right to the edge, I go right to the end
I go right where all things lost are made good again
I sing the songs of experience like William Blake
I have no apologies to make
Everything’s flowing all at the same time
I live on a boulevard of crime
I drive fast cars, and I eat fast foods
I contain multitudes

Pink pedal-pushers, red blue jeans
All the pretty maids, and all the old queens
All the old queens from all my past lives
I carry four pistols and two large knives
I’m a man of contradictions, I’m a man of many moods
I contain multitudes

You greedy old wolf, I’ll show you my heart
But not all of it, only the hateful part
I’ll sell you down the river, I’ll put a price on your head
What more can I tell you? I sleep with life and death in the same bed
Get lost, madame, get up off my knee
Keep your mouth away from me
I’ll keep the path open, the path in my mind
I’ll see to it that there’s no love left behind
I’ll play Beethoven’s sonatas, and Chopin’s preludes
I contain multitudes

When I recall just how it felt
When I went walking down by the take
My soul was free, my heart awake
When I walked down into the town

The mountain air was fresh and clear
The sun was up behind the hill
It felt so good to be alive
On that morning in spring

I want to sing this song for you
I want to lift your spirits high
And in my soul I want to feel
The beauty of the days gone by

The beauty of the days gone by
It brings a longing to my soul
To contemplate my own true self
And keep me young as I grow old

The beauty of the days gone by
The music that we used to play
So lift your glass and raise it high
To the beauty of the days gone by

I’ll sing it from the mountain top
Down to the valley down below
Because my cup doth overflow
With the beauty of the days gone by

The mountain glen
Where we used to roam
The gardens there
By the railroad track
Oh my memory it does not lie
Of the beauty of the days gone by

The beauty of the days gone by
It brings a longing to my soul
To contemplate my own true self
And keep me young as I grow old

And keep me young as I grow old
And keep me young as I grow old
And keep me young as I grow old

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He loves gold-

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Blues Run the Game

Jackson C. Frank

Catch a boat to England baby
Maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone, wherever I’ve been and gone
Wherever I have gone, the blues are all the same

Send out for whisky baby, send out for gin
Me and room service, honey
Me and room service, baby
Me are room service, well we’re livin’ a life of sin

When I’m not drinking honey, you are on my mind
When I’m not sleeping, babe
When I ain’t sleepin’ mama
When I’m not sleepin’,
Well you know you find me cryin’

Livin’ is a gamble, baby
Lovings much the same
Wherever I have played
Whenever I throw them dice
Wherever I have played,
The blue have the run the game

Maybe tomorrow…

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We Might As Well Dance

Madeleine Peyroux

It’s easy to see the things going wrong now
It’s easy to wallow in a sad song
It’s easy to cry over all that is gone now
But I believe that we must carry on

I hear you saying that our best days are past us
I’ve seen you walking through the rubble and stone
Yes I know there’s list of disasters
But time is gonna soothe the soul

So we might as well dance
In the light of the moon
We might as well dance
We’ll be leaving here soon
Might as well dance
While the river is high
We might as well dance
Before you kiss me goodbye

The times are changing and tensions are rising
But fear can never be our guiding light
I’m not a fool, I know what hate is disguising
And only love can bring the will to fight

So we might as well dance
In the light of the moon
We might as well dance…

We Might As Well Dance…

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Just another Tuesday … but this one worthy of its namesake ( in these parts): Tyr, god of single combat…, almost like

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Love this Line:“So I’ll meet you at the bottom if there really is one
They always told me when you hit it you’ll know it
But I’ve been falling so long it’s like gravity’s gone and I’m just floatin’…”

And seems to Rub with…

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Text:
Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor.
Exultemus, et in ipso iucundemur.
Timeamus, et amemus Deum vivum.
Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero.


Translation:
Where charity and love are, God is there.
Christ’s love has gathered us into one.
Let us rejoice and be pleased in Him.
Let us fear, and let us love the living God.
And may we love each other with a sincere heart.
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Heimat is where you hang your hat … at least for a while.

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This song, released a day before July 4th, has layers of meaning (for me). Reminded of Connolly’s entangled account of Job in the prelude to his book Facing the Planetary. The lyrics reach into “Myth and the Planetary”. How do I love thee, oh monstrous America?

Lyrics

Is it love you’re after?
A sign of the flood or one more disaster Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you did to America

I have loved you, I have grieved
I’m ashamed to admit I no longer believe I have loved you, I received
I have traded my life
For a picture of the scenery
Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you did to America

I give it all up in laughter
The sign of the cross awaiting disaster
The dove flew to me like a vision of paranoia The dove flew to me like a vision of paranoia

I have loved you like a dream
I have kissed your lips like a Judas in heat
I have worshipped, I believed
I have broke your bread for a splendor of machinery Don’t look at me like I’m acting hysterical
Don’t look at me like I’m acting hysterical

I have worshipped, I have cried
I have put my hands in the wounds on your side I have tasted of your blood
I have choked on the waters, I abated the flood I am broken, I am beat
But I will find my way like a Judas in heat
I am fortune, I am free
I’m like a fever of light in the land of opportunity

Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you do to yourself Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you do to yourself Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you do to yourself Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you do to yourself

Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you did to America Don’t do to me what you did to America

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What a lovely fantasy-

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Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam) - Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood …

](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOJmBI-ZgN4)

www.youtube.com › watch

Lyrics

People, do you understand me now,
If sometimes I feel a little mad
Don’t you know no one alive can
Always be an angel
When things go wrong I seem a little sad
But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood

You know sometimes, I’m so carefree
With a joy that’s hard to hide
Sometimes seems that all I have is worry
And then you’re bound to see my other side
But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood

If I seem edgy, I want you to know
That I never mean to take it out on you
Life has its problems and I get more
Than my share
But that’s one thing I never mean to do
I don’t mean it

People, don’t you know I’m only human
Don’t you know I have faults like any one
But sometimes I find myself alone regretting
Some little thing; some foolish thing
That I have done,
But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood
Don’t let me be misunderstood
I’m just someone whose intentions are good
Don’t let me be misunderstood,
Don’t let me be misunderstood

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Birdtalker…Let It Be…A Moment of Release…In a Time of (W) Holy Shit Going Down!!!

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