DJ Fucking In the Streets. You heard it here first people. DJ Fucking In the Streets.
Granted, I haven't heard him "spin" or "work it", but that particular detail, I feel, is completely beside the point. My point? My point is that his name is DJ Fucking In the Streets. End of point.
So. I was perusing over today's headlines, and something caught my eye. Let's see if I can explain this.
Headline #1: Schiavo Dies Nearly Two Weeks After Removal of Feeding Tube
Headline #2: Report Calls U.S. Intelligence 'Dead Wrong' on Iraq Weapons
These particular headlines came from The New York Times, but I found the same stories at BBC, USA Today and The Times.
I don't know if people have been following this Schiavo case, but it's pretty interesting. Been in a coma for 15 years, laws have been made and unmade just for her situation, Supreme Court refused to get involved 6 different times, basically a whole bunch of rabble rabble.
I assume we've all heard about the rabble rabble in Iraq.
Does anyone else see the...irony? World is captivated by braindead woman, and her right to live or die. Georgy even gets involved, explaining that we must "ere on the side of life". And then, in the same sentance, in the same breath practically, is an article about how WRONG the war we are currently fighting is. It actually says "Intelligence DEAD WRONG".
Do I need to explain the unintentional humor here? It's so fucking absurd, it lapped itself, and is hiding itself under the guise of respectability. What the fuck is going on here people?
Anyways: in response to Acklin's inquiry into Bowie's career as a...I'm not even sure what his career can be summerized as. Regardless, I think the answers you are looking for can be found in a little timeless classic I like to call "Labyrinth". For a more detailed inquiry into Bowie, I would require a fifth of Jack and a comfy chair, preferably on a beach somewhere.
I will say this though. Bowie's sophmore effort, Space Oddity. Last track, Memory of a Free Festival. Line about halfway through the song:
Oh to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon
To paint that love upon a white balloon
And fly it from the toppest tops of all the tops that man has pushed behond his brain
Satori must be something must the same
That line, or the scene it inspired, actually made it into the book (which I found a name for: The Cosmic Heartland). Check for it on the shelves in 2058. It should be done by then.
But really, it's a great song. Recommended listening. Space Oddity. Bowie. B section. Music Store.
This one's for Mikey:
"I like your sleeves"
Hugs and kisses
J
and don't forget about that DJ Fucking in the Streets shit. Somebody, for the love of god, have sex to the bumpin' of DJ Fucking in the Streets. Mikey and Ramey, I'm looking in your general direction.
Granted, I haven't heard him "spin" or "work it", but that particular detail, I feel, is completely beside the point. My point? My point is that his name is DJ Fucking In the Streets. End of point.
So. I was perusing over today's headlines, and something caught my eye. Let's see if I can explain this.
Headline #1: Schiavo Dies Nearly Two Weeks After Removal of Feeding Tube
Headline #2: Report Calls U.S. Intelligence 'Dead Wrong' on Iraq Weapons
These particular headlines came from The New York Times, but I found the same stories at BBC, USA Today and The Times.
I don't know if people have been following this Schiavo case, but it's pretty interesting. Been in a coma for 15 years, laws have been made and unmade just for her situation, Supreme Court refused to get involved 6 different times, basically a whole bunch of rabble rabble.
I assume we've all heard about the rabble rabble in Iraq.
Does anyone else see the...irony? World is captivated by braindead woman, and her right to live or die. Georgy even gets involved, explaining that we must "ere on the side of life". And then, in the same sentance, in the same breath practically, is an article about how WRONG the war we are currently fighting is. It actually says "Intelligence DEAD WRONG".
Do I need to explain the unintentional humor here? It's so fucking absurd, it lapped itself, and is hiding itself under the guise of respectability. What the fuck is going on here people?
Anyways: in response to Acklin's inquiry into Bowie's career as a...I'm not even sure what his career can be summerized as. Regardless, I think the answers you are looking for can be found in a little timeless classic I like to call "Labyrinth". For a more detailed inquiry into Bowie, I would require a fifth of Jack and a comfy chair, preferably on a beach somewhere.
I will say this though. Bowie's sophmore effort, Space Oddity. Last track, Memory of a Free Festival. Line about halfway through the song:
Oh to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon
To paint that love upon a white balloon
And fly it from the toppest tops of all the tops that man has pushed behond his brain
Satori must be something must the same
That line, or the scene it inspired, actually made it into the book (which I found a name for: The Cosmic Heartland). Check for it on the shelves in 2058. It should be done by then.
But really, it's a great song. Recommended listening. Space Oddity. Bowie. B section. Music Store.
This one's for Mikey:
"I like your sleeves"
Hugs and kisses
J
and don't forget about that DJ Fucking in the Streets shit. Somebody, for the love of god, have sex to the bumpin' of DJ Fucking in the Streets. Mikey and Ramey, I'm looking in your general direction.
posted by Aden at 11:53 AM
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