Republicans are experiencing Colony Collapse Disorder. For reasons too numerous to iterate, Trump's numbers are plummeting, as is interest in special elections (even more so that usual) among right-leaners. In the Kansas 4th--Koch's home ground--James Thompson polled within 1% shortly before the election and lost by only 6.8%. What is more, he did so with almost no help from the DNC or the liberal media (most notably MSNBC, who have focused exclusively on Jon Ossoff). Not bad for a Kansan without his own Wikipedia page!
To put this in perspective, the last Democrat to win this seat was segregationist Jon James Flynt Jr. in 1965.
Rob Quist, Montana.
Was the Kansas 4th an anomaly?
Hardly.
True, Governor Sam Brownback is almost universally detested but that was the case on November 8th, 2016, when the district went for Trump by 20.5% while Mike Pompeo (now CIA Director) beat Democrat Daniel Giroux by 31.1%.
That was then. Flash forward 5 months and the GOP is free-falling in the polls, as is enthusiasm among the remaining supporters.
James Thompson ran an excellent campaign but he was more the result
than the cause. Simply put, the Thompson Effect is: There are no
more red districts. By extension, his outcome underscored the
obsolescence of the concept of red states.
Every seat should be
contested. Vigorously. We agree that our discretionary resources
should go into the tightest races. However, the Overton Window has shifted left so far and so fast that these previously unattainable seats are the new battleground. To wit, we should regard Jon Ossoff (Georgia 6th), Rob Quist (Montana), Larry Barnett (Virginia 27th), and others like them as the front line. This isn't merely a "healthy conceit" aimed at rallying supporters; it is the status quo.
Larry Barnett, Virginia.
We're talking about a 50-state strategy on steroids. No more "Keep our powder dry!" nonsense. Every challenged candidate should be supported equally, without regard to whether the nominee is centrist or progressive. Think "Big Mo"[mentum] here: Democratic success in one previously difficult region will translate into enthusiasm and support--including funding--in subsequent tilts.
Kingston Trio 1961: John Stewart, Nick Reynolds, Bob Shane.
In the 4th Kansas district yesterday, Republican Ron Estes defeated Democrat James Thompson
by 53.3%-45%. Dolt 45 won the 4th by 27% in November, and the outgoing Rep. Mike Pompeo, who will now direct the CIA [shudder], won it in 2010 with 59%, in 2012 with 62%, in 2014 with 66.7%, and in 2016 with 60.6% of the vote. Each time, Pompeo faced a different Democratic opponent--sometimes more than one. (Please, no more Duo Democrats!)
This is one of the reddest districts in the country. For those who don't understand momentum, this means that our worst loss between now and November 2018 may be single digits. Statistically, that virtually guarantees a landslide in 2020. Do the math. Oh, and this is before we factor in recent legal decisions against gerrymandering.
Kingston Trio 1957: Dave Guard, Bob Shane, Nick Reynolds
The result is remarkable in its own right--so much so that the margin isn't mentioned in most Republican accounts. On the circuit, this is where the more ornery among us would turn to an opponent, smile, and ask: "Do you feel something slipping?"
For the 50-state strategy to continue to work we need to raise money, yes, but we also need to "think outside the bucks", raising the profile and goodwill of our [potential] candidates, as with regular meet-and-greets. Not in 2018 or 2020 but today and every day. Find some venue: swap meets, farmers' markets, craft shows, music mini-festivals, et cetera. Get musicians' permissions to use their videos in your food courts; ask them if they would make one in support of the candidate(s).
All volunteer. $0.
That said, what money the Democratic Party does spend on red states invariably gets more "bang for the buck" than in blue districts. As Bill Clinton would say: "It's called 'arithmetic'."
Would it be too much to ask that MSNBC, at least, do stories--plural--on the races of James Thompson (Kansas 4th), Jon Ossoff (Georgia 6th), and Rob Quist (Montana)? Can we at least organize Wikipedia pages for all of our candidates?
In 2018 we can and will go back to Kansas.
Lyrics and Chords for "Can't Go Back To Kansas": (C) (G) (Am) (C7) (F) (G) (C) (G) (C) Time (G)moves like a (Am)river,(C7) (F) You can (G)either sink or (C)swim.(G) (C) And a wise man (G)learns to for(Am)give her(C7) (F) For (G)all she's done to (C)him.(C7) And (F)no-one's getting (C)younger, And a (F)few aren't (G)getting (C)old, It's (Am)all in what you (Em)feel, And (D)not in what you're (G)told.
Oh, you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, I was (F)there just (G)yester(C)day, Oh, you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, It just (D)up and blew a(G)way. Oh, but (F)I will go on (C)loving you, It's (F)easi(G)er that (C)way, But you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, 'Cause (F)that was (G)yester(C)day. (G) (Am) (C7) (F) (G) (C) (G)
(C) I see the (G)sun rise and (Am)fall,(C7) (F) And I feel the (G)earth beneath my (C)shoes.(G) (C) Still I´m (G)stuck in my be(Am)lieving(C7) (F) That some were (G)born and cursed to (C)lose.(C7) But (F)nothing´s gonna (C)happen here, That´s (F)all I´ve (G)got to (C)say, It´s (Am)nothing to be (Em)down about, It´s (D)always been that (G)way.
Oh, I (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, I was (F)there just (G)yester(C)day, Oh, I (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, It just (D)up and blew a(G)way. Oh, but (F)I will go on (C)loving you, It's (F)easi(G)er that (C)way, But you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, 'Cause (F)that was (G)yester(Am)day. (Em) (F)(G)(C) (Am) (Em) (D) (G) (F) (C) (F)(G)(C) (Am) (Em) (F)(G)(C)
Oh, you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, I was (F)there just (G)yester(C)day, Oh, you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, It just (D)up and blew (G)away. Oh, but (F)I will go on (C)loving you, It's (F)easi(G)er that (C)way, But you (Am)can't go back to (Em)Kansas, 'Cause (F)that was (G)yester(C)day. (G) (Am) (C7) (F) (G) (C)
When you play this alternate version, please WATCH OUT: The distinctive high-notes run is written out John plays during the chord change from (G) to (C) only once, see first line of intro. Play most of the runs on the bass-strings, “it´s easier that way.”
(C) (Em7/B) (Am7) (Am7/G) (F) (G, highlight high notes:g-b-c-d) (C) "And across the (G)plains of Wichita, (C)at the farms being (Em7/B)sold at auction,(Am7) they listened to the (Am7/G)clear New England voice (F) cut the cold (G)Kansas sky."(C) (Em7/B)
(C) Time (Em7/B)moves like a (Am7)river,(Am7/G) (F) You can (G)either sink or (C)swim. (G) (C)And a wise (Em7/B)man learns (Am7)to forgive her(Am7/G) (F) For (G)all she's done to (C)him. (C7) (F) No one's getting (Cj7)younger, (Dm7) But a (G)few aren't getting (C)old, (high notes:e-d)(Am) It's all in what you (Em)feel (D) It's not in what you're (G)told.(G/F) (G/E) (Bass run: G-A-B-D)
(Am) But you can't go back to (Em)Kansas, (F) I was (G)there just yester(C)day.(Bass run: G-A-B-D) (Am) You can't go back to (Em)Kansas, (D) It just up and blew a(G)way. (Fj7) So I will go on (Cj7)loving you, (F) It's (G)easier that (C)way,(run, start on G-string:g-a-b-d) (Am) And you can't go back to (Em)Kansas, (F) 'Cause (G)that was yester(C)day. (Em7/B) (Am7) (Am7/G) (F) (G) (C) (G) (C) (Em7/B) (Am7) (Am7/G) (F) (G) (C) (G)
(C) I see the (Em7/B)sun rise and (Am7)fall,(Am7/G) (F) And I feel the (G)earth beneath my (C)shoes. (G) (C) There's no (Em7/B)need in you be(Am7)lieving(Am7/G) (F) That you were (G)born and cursed to (C)lose.(C7) (Fj7) So why not go on (Cj7)dreaming then? (F) Yeah, take (G)anyone you (C)choose. (Am) There's nothing to be (Em)down about, (D) 'Cause you either (G) win or lose.(G/F) (G/E) (Bass run: G-A-B-D)
(Am)You can't go back to (Em)Kansas,(high notes:g-f-e-d-f) (F) I was (G)there just yester(C)day.(high notes:g-g g-g g-g) (Am You can't go back to (Em)Kansas, (D) It just up and blew (G)away. (Fj7) So I will go on (Cj7)loving you, (F) 'Cause it's (G)easier that (C)way,(single notes:g-a-b-d-a) (Am) But you can't go back to (Em)Kansas, (F) 'Cause (G)that was (C) yesterday. (Em7/B) (Am7) (Am7/G) (F) (G) (C)
"Dreamers on the Rise" is a poignant view of another loss. It is dedicated to us, and the memory of those with us in spirit.
Lyrics for "Dreamers on the Rise":
Bobby, Buffy and John campaigning in 1968.
Ah, once We were dreamers on the rise We were the sun Where the sun never shines And we were gold Where the night bird only flies Oh, that's a long time you know For that kind of wind to blow A long time ago We were dreamers on the rise
And twice We said we'd begin again And we made a vow That we'd remain as friends And fallen down We said we shall rise again Ah, that's a long time you know For that kind of wind to blow A long time ago We were dreamers on the mend A long time ago We were dreamers on the mend
And if three Wishes came into my life I'd say one Was to gaze into your eyes And I'd say two Would be turning back our lives And three's a long way to go For that kind of wind to blow A long time ago We were dreamers on the rise A long time ago We were dreamers on the rise A long time ago We were dreamers on the rise
Whether you listen to the solo accoustic or group electric version, this song defined the difference between the right and left in the 2016 election. When he used it to announce his candidacy, Trump used it without permission and much to the displeasure of the author. With Neil Young's explicit and enthusiastic support, Bernie Sanders used it throughout his campaign.
Enough said.
Lyrics for "Rockin' in the Free World" (1989):
There's colors on the street Red, white and blue People shufflin' their feet People sleepin' in their shoes But there's a warnin' sign on the road ahead There's a lot of people sayin' we'd be better off dead Don't feel like Satan, but I am to them So I try to forget it, any way I can.
Keep on rockin' in the free world, Keep on rockin' in the free world Keep on rockin' in the free world, Keep on rockin' in the free world.
I see a woman in the night With a baby in her hand Under an old street light Near a garbage can Now she puts the kid away, and she's gone to get a hit She hates her life, and what she's done to it There's one more kid that will never go to school Never get to fall in love, never get to be cool.
Keep on rockin' in the free world, Keep on rockin' in the free world Keep on rockin' in the free world, Keep on rockin' in the free world.
We got a thousand points of light For the homeless man We got a kinder, gentler, Machine gun hand We got department stores and toilet paper Got styrofoam boxes for the ozone layer Got a man of the people, says keep hope alive Got fuel to burn, got roads to drive.
Keep on rockin' in the free world, Keep on rockin' in the free world Keep on rockin' in the free world, Keep on rockin' in the free world.
Here's a little song about a man gone wrong while building up his evil empire. And after months of ifs and buts the papers got the guts to call The Man Of The Year a liar, to call the Man of the Year a liar.
Hustlin' and bustlin' across the big green lawn stampin' through the famous rose garden, but every little rose turned up its pretty nose, saying "You owe the earth a pardon," saying "You owe the earth a pardon."
Fumblin' and bumblin' through the halls at night, turn every light switch on, searching for the room where you used to be the groom but she's packed all her jewelry and gone. Yeah, she's scooped up all her jewelry and gone.
Well, the former residents and Mrs. President left you corn and lima beans and tomatoes. You said "Rip 'em all out. They'll only give you gout and that's unbecoming for a future dictator, and that's unbecoming for a future dictator. And you're gonna build a wall, the big-liest wall, the beautifulliest wall around our borders but here's what I think, you better talk to a shrink, 'cause you got serious psychological disorders. You've got dangerous pathological disorders.
Well, that's my little song about a man gone wrong. He's nasty from his head to his feet. When the dirt on this man finally hits the fan and no one gives a damn about his tweets, he'll be finally and forever obsolete,
At the far end of the seriousness spectrum is the stunningly beautiful autobiographical "Gulf Winds", from the 1976 CD of that name.
Lyrics for "Gulf Winds" (1976):
It's only when the high winds blow that I wish my hair was long Sailing through the autumn leaves singing an ancient song Or falling in love in the streets at night at the edge of a local square It's only that I'm here tonight thinking I was there There are high winds on the pier tonight, my soul departs from me Striding like Thalia's ghost south on the murky sea And into midnight's tapestry she fades, ragged and wild Searching down her ancestry in the costume of a Persian child And gulf winds bring me flying fish that shine in the crescent moon Show me the horizon where the dawn will break anew And cool me here on this lonely pier where the heron are flying low Echo the songs my father knew in the towns of Mexico When I was young my eyes were wise, my father was good to me Instead of having a flock of sons he had two other girls and me And if we had used our Spanish names, here's the way they'd run Thalia, Margarita and Juanita, I'm the middle one. The screen door kept the demons in as we moved from town to town It's hard to be a princess in the States when your skin is brown And mama smoothed my worried brow as I leaned on the kitchen door Why do you carry the weight, she said, of the world and maybe more? And gulf winds bring me flying fish that shine in the crescent moon Show me the horizon where the dawn will break anew And cool me here on this lonely pier where the heron are flying low Echo the songs my father knew in the towns of Mexico My grandfathers were ministers and it came on down the line My father preached in his parents' church when he was ten years and nine And mama dressed in parishoners' clothes and didn't believe in hell Her daddy fought the DAR, if he'd lived I'd have known him well They said go find a Sunday School, we must have tried them all I never stole from the silver plate, my sisters had more gall One preacher said sing out loud and clear, it's the only life you've got And the next one said be good on earth, you've another life at the feet of God And gulf winds bring me flying fish that shine in the crescent moon Show me the horizon where the dawn will break anew And cool me here on this lonely pier where the heron are flying low Echo the songs my father knew in the towns of Mexico My father turned down many a job just to give us something real It's hard to be a scientist in the States when you've got ideals And mama kept the budget book, she kept the garden, too Bought fish from the man on Thursday, fed all of us and strangers, too But time will pass and so, alas, will most of what we know Though tonight my memory's eye is clear as the story's being told And I'll play ball with the underdog and sit with the child who's wrong Be still when the earth is silent and sing when my strength is gone And gulf winds bring me flying fish that shine in the crescent moon Show me the horizon where the dawn will break anew And cool me here on this lonely pier where the heron are flying low Echo the songs my father knew in the towns of Mexico Now father's going to India sometime in the fall They tried to stay together but you just can't do it all I'll think about him if he goes, there's a little grey in his hair Though not much because he's Mexican, they don't age, they just prepare And if he goes to India I'll miss him most of all He'll see me in the mudlarks' face, hear me in the beggar's call And mama will stay home, I guess, and worry if she did wrong And I'll say a prayer for both of them and sing them both my song And gulf winds bring me flying fish that shine in the crescent moon Show me the horizon where the dawn will break anew And cool me here on this lonely pier where the heron are flying low Echo the songs my father knew in the towns of Mexico
Spring has sprung and Tomahawk missiles are in the air.
Lyrics for "April, Come She Will" (1964)
April come she will When streams are ripe and swelled with rain May she will stay Resting in my arms again
Songwriters Simon and Garfunkel.
June she'll change her tune In restless walks she'll prowl the night July she will fly And give no warning to her flight August die she must The autumn winds blow chilly and cold September I remember A love once new has now grown old
One of the most poignant messages I've seen involved no words. It was a pair of photos (recreated here) in the liner notes for John Stewart's "Last Campaign" CD. The first was of Bobby Kennedy, relaxing on the campaign trail with friends while getting a haircut.
The second picture was of the barber's chair.
Empty.
Waiting.
When we encourage new advocates to "speak their mind" the message seems to come across as "Please, feel free to ramble on to your heart's content".
"Say [What You Need To Say]" was written for the Rob Reiner film "Bucket List", released on Christmas Day of 2007. Acolytes believe "say" is the operative word but, with experience, speakers learn that "need" is the key. Less is more. Be concise. Say what you need to say and then stop, if only to give others a chance to contemplate the weight of your words and, perhaps respond. (Unless it's a song or chant, don't repeat it 40 times.)
Over the course of a career or campaign, this is how we gain listeners or readers.
Lyrics:
Songwriter John Mayer.
Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put 'em in quotations
Say what you need to say[8x]
Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you'd be better off instead,
If you could only . . .
Say what you need to say [8x]
Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You'd better know that in the end
It's better to say too much
Than never to say what you need to say again
Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open (a wide heart)
"I wonder if the Emperor Honorius, watching the Visigoths coming over the seventh hill, could truly realize that the Roman Empire was about to fall. This is really just another page of history, isn't it? Will this be the end of our civilization?"
Bitterness comes with loss, as we see in the verses of "in the Air Tonight" about Phil's 1979 divorce.
Songwriter Phil Collins.
Winning is like a wedding. Or like the chorus to this song. Once a generation we choose a new, inspirational president. November 4, 2008. November 3, 1992. November 8, 1960. On election night, we can feel victory on our skin: the air seems verdant with chlorophyll, thick with ozone and crackling with electricity, as in the wake of a spring storm. Time quickens its pace as we take that one, unfaltering step forward together. The poignancy is not lessened by nostalgia or subsequent tragedy.
We can't lose sight of the more immediate priority: we have some serious ass to kick in 2018. Come 2020, though, Democrats will counter some RepTealian laughingstock with one of their three best candidates, all of whom happen to be women--indeed, all women of color. November 3rd, 2020 rates to be the longest anticipated and most delicious triumph in our history. And, no, it won't be close.
You heard it here first!
Lyrics to "In the Air Tonight" (1981):
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord
Well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand I've seen your face before my friend, but I don't know if you know who I am Well I was there and I saw what you did, I saw it with my own two eyes So you can wipe off that grin, I know where you've been It's all been a pack of lies
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord Well I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord
Well I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord, oh Lord Well I remember, I remember, don't worry, how could I ever forget It's the first time, the last time we ever met But I know the reason why you keep your silence up, oh no you don't fool me Well the hurt doesn't show, but the pain still grows It's no stranger to you and me
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord Well been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord I can feel it in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord Well I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord I can feel it in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord Well I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord, oh Lord I can feel it in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord Well I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord
It is the ultimate annoyance: a vaguely romantic snippet from some undetermined source (a television commercial? something with balloons?) that has rattled around in your subconscious for years.
An earworm is to sound what poetry is to words: an instantly recognized combination that resides in--and often triggers--memory. It is the mathematics of melody. It is iconic in both senses: universal acquaintance and an easy button/icon to push. Before 2016, Simon and Garfunkel's "America" was "just another classic". Today, if people want us to think of Universal Public Health Care as a right, of a federally mandated minimum wage, or of free public college tuition, they need only phone up our favorite radio station and request that song.
Without will-i-am's "Yes, We Can", we might never have elected the greatest president of our time. Given the need for familiarity, originality of text is not a prerequisite; it may even be a liability.
The technical term for a candidate without a catchy slogan and/or theme song is "loser". Got a favorite contender in 2020? Why not take a moment to think of a slogan or melody that might help propel him or her into office?
Oh, and that damned jingle you haven't been able to get out of your skull for the last five years? That is, in fact, from a Zales diamond commercial:
Oh, there's a river that winds on forever I'm gonna see where it leads Oh, there's a mountain that no man has mounted I'm gonna stand on the peak
Out there's a land that time don't command Wanna be the first to arrive No time for ponderin' why I'm-a wanderin' Not while we're both still alive
To the ends of the earth, would you follow me There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see To the ends of the earth, would you follow me If you will have a say my goodbyes to me
Oh, there's an island where all things are silent I'm gonna whistle a tune Oh, there's a desert that size can't be measured I'm gonna count all the dunes
Earl Gray's 76th Law.
Out there's a a world that calls for me, girl Headin' out into the unknown Well if there are strangers, and all kinds of danger Please don't say I'm going alone
To the ends of the earth, would you follow me There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see To the ends of the earth, would you follow me Well if you want, I will say my goodbyes to me
I was a-ready to die for you, baby Doesn't mean I'm ready to stay What good is livin' a life you've been given If all you do is stand in one place
I'm on a river that winds on forever Follow 'til I get where I'm goin' Maybe I'm headin' to die but I'm still gonna try I guess I'm goin' alone
A tasteful soupçon of sex appeal didn't hurt the Kennedys in 1960, the Clintons in 1992 and 1996, or the Obamas in 2008 and 2012. More overt sex appeal in the candidate's family (spouse, children, in-laws) didn't seem to hurt Hair Gropenführer, but let's stay within Democratic standards of dignity. (As for the double standard, I say "Vive la difference!")
Here are three music videos to make the point. In third place, we have an impromptu performance of "Ain't Life A Brook" from Sarah Kenvyn for the song's author, Ferron, at a gathering to celebrate the opening of the latter's writing retreat, The Fen Sanctuary, in Michigan. The breathiness and slight nasality gives Sarah's voice a unique, quiet charm.
The fruit, water, zephyrs, shadows, sheets, dancing, isolation and longing combine to make "Meet Me At The Oasis" by Lennie Gallant hauntingly sensual.
Arguably the sexiest tune ever written, "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak sends shivers down spines. That voice!
In 2020 Democrats will school Republicans on the subject of nuance in politics, including subliminal appeal.
Young people who are close to writing off the Democratic Party as a dinosaur, as a gerontocracy of prudish abuelos who gave birth by immaculate conception, may be in for a pleasant surprise.
Sex appeal?
We invented sex appeal.
Lyrics to "Ain't Life a Brook":
Songwriter Ferron.
I watch you reading a book I get to thinking our love's a polished stone You give me a long drawn look I know pretty soon you're going to leave our home And of course I mind, Especially when I'm thinking from my heart But life don't clickety clack down a straight line track It comes together and it comes apart. You say you hope I'm not the kind To make you feel obliged To go ticking through your time With a pained look in your eyes You give me the furniture, we'll divide the photographs Go out to dinner one more time Have ourselves a bottle of wine And a couple of laughs And when first you left I stayed so sad I wouldn't sleep I know that love's a gift, I thought yours was mine And something that I could keep Now I realize that time is not the only compromise But a bird in the hand could be an all night stand Between a blazing fire and a pocket of skies So I hope I'm not the kind To make you feel obliged To go ticking through your time With a pained look in your eyes I covered the furniture, I framed the photographs Went out to dinner one more time Had myself a bottle of wine and a couple of laughs And just the other day I got your letter in the mail I'm happy for you, its been so long You've been wanting a cabin and a backwoods trail And I think that's great...me... I seem to find myself in school It's all Ok, I just want to say I'm so relieved we didn't do it cruel But ain't life a brook Just when I get to feeling like a polished stone I give me along drawn look It's kind of a drag to find yourself alone And sometimes I mind Especially when I'm waiting on your heart But life don't clickety clack down a straight line track It comes together and it comes apart. Cause I know you're not the kind To make me feel obliged To go ticking through my time with a pained look In my eyes I sold the furniture, I put away the photographs Went out to dinner one more time Skipped the bottle of wine Had a couple of laughs And wasn't it fine...
Lyrics for "Meet Me At the Oasis":
Songwriter Lennie Gallant.
I wander in the desert - I lost my guide He stepped on a land mine left behind from the war I've no sugar for this tea - no salt for this rice On this riverbed the water runs no more Chorus: (Won't you) Meet me at the oasis Bring me Bedouin tea and your silver spoon Meet me at the oasis Drop your veil - descend the dune And we'll drink from the moon Over the painted canyon - the moon was rising I saw a solitary silhouette against the sky The pyromaniac sun, hiding behind the horizon Settling fire to the mountains of Sinai There's an acacia tree here, bearing nothing but thorns We break off a dead branch and burn it to keep warm It's so cold in the nighttime, but the Dutch oven days bake a mirage of you - my heart is parched and warm Lyrics for "Wicked Game":
Songwriter Chris Isaak.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you No, I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart) With you With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart) What a wicked game you played to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you And I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart) With you The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I'd never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you And I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you No, I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart) With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart) With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart) No, I (this girl is only gonna break your heart) (This girl is only gonna break your heart) Nobody loves no one
Bruce Cockburn wrote the hauntingly beautiful "Santiago Dawn" in
September of 1983, ten years after the original 9/11 tragedy ended
democracy in Chile for a generation. Thousands were killed, including popular songwriter Víctor Jara and many desaparecidos whose bodies were dumped in the Mopocho River or the Pacific Ocean. Poet Pablo Neruda
spent his last few days watching the dismantling of everything he'd
accomplished in his distinguished diplomatic career. His funeral was a
silent rallying point for the democratic resistance, inspiring DPK's elegy. We remember what Victor Jara wrote on a piece of paper and hid in his shoe, hours before his murder:
Songwriter Víctor Jara.
How hard it is to sing
when I must sing of horror.
...so many moments of infinity
in which silence and screams
are the end of my song.
In a 1988 plebiscite the country voted "No" to continuing the regime of U.S. puppet caudillo Augusto José Ramón Pinochet Ugarte. Along with international pressure from governments, businesses and activists, political songs played a key role in the struggle for right to vote.
The (campaign) results were poor. In a few days nobody could ignore the evident technical superiority of the "No" campaign: superior in argumentation, superior in filming, superior in music. Its signature tune, with the slogan "La alegría ya viene" ("Joy is coming") as its main element, was so cheesy that even the "Yes" campaign creatives hummed it during their brainstorming sessions.
— Sergio Fernández, Minister of the Interior
Henry Kissinger with Augusto Pinochet.
America's situation is not quite as dire [yet]. Granted, dark forces control our statehouses, House, Senate and 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, while threatening the Supreme Court--our last bastion of common sense. Nevertheless, the nation is experiencing a Santiago Dawn of its own, as represented by the unity of the Democratic Party. We see it in the pairing of Bernie Sanders and Chuck Schumer, of Tom Perez and Keith Ellison. We see it in the return of the Left in our media and discourse. We see it in the polls.
Will it last?
It must.
Else, we will disappear.
Lyrics:
Something moves in the still dark hours Sunday in a shanty town Eyelids open two by two But not a single light goes on
Tension builds as the only sound Is the quiet clash of metal and boots And now and then an order barked At the bullies in the drab green suits
Military thugs with their dogs and clubs Spreading through the poblacion Hunting whoever still has a voice Sure that everyone will run
They come in strong but it's not that long Before they know it's not so easy to leave To keep a million homeless down takes more Than a strong arm up your sleeve
At the crack of dawn the first door goes down Snapped off a makeshift frame In a matter of minutes the first rock flies Barricades burst into flame
First mass rings through smoke and gas Day flowers out of the night Creatures of the dark in disarray Fall before the morning light
Bells of rage -- bells of hope As the ten-year night wears down Sisters and brothers are coming home To see the Santiago dawn
Santiago sunrise See them marching home See them rising like grass through cement In the Santiago dawn
I got a dream and I'm not alone Darkness dead and gone All the people marching home Kissing the rush of dawn
Santiago sunrise See them marching home See them rising like grass through cement In the Santiago dawn
Like politics and life in general, music is all about transitions. Watch the one in this song as "Call It Democracy" (from the 1986 "World of Wonders" CD) slides into "If I Had A Rocket Launcher" (from the 1984 album, "Stealing Fire"). This mini-performance may be the greatest lyrical and musical protest of our time. "Call It Democracy" is a brilliant indictment of the status quo irrespective of its lapses into sloganeering, second only to Day 8's "Burn, [Baby, Burn]" by the same author.
Lyrics to "Call It Democracy":
Padded with power here they come International loan sharks backed by the guns Of market hungry military profiteers Whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared With the blood of the poor
Who rob life of its quality Who render rage a necessity By turning countries into labor camps Modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom
Sinister cynical instrument Who makes the gun into a sacrament The only response to the deification Of tyranny by so called "developed" nations' Idolatry of ideology
North, south, east, And it west Kill the best and buy the rest It's just spend a buck to make a buck You don't really give a flying fuck About the people in misery
I-M-F dirty M-F Takes away everything it can get Always making certain that there's one thing left Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt
See the paid off local bottom feeders Passing themselves off as leaders Kiss the ladies, shake hands with the fellows And it's open for business like a cheap bordello
And they call it democracy And they call it democracy And they call it democracy And they call it democracy
See the loaded eyes of the children too Trying to make the best of it the way kids do One day you're going to rise from your habitual feast To find yourself staring down the throat of the beast They call the revolution
I-M-F dirty M-F Takes away everything it can get Always making certain that there's one thing left Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt
And they call it democracy And they call it democracy And they call it democracy And they call it democracy
Lyrics to "If I Had A Rocket Launcher":
Here comes the helicopter -- second time today Everybody scatters and hopes it goes away How many kids they've murdered only God can say If I had a rocket launcher...I'd make somebody pay
I don't believe in guarded borders and I don't believe in hate I don't believe in generals or their stinking torture states And when I talk with the survivors of things too sickening to relate If I had a rocket launcher...I would retaliate
On the Rio Lacantun, one hundred thousand wait To fall down from starvation -- or some less humane fate Cry for guatemala, with a corpse in every gate If I had a rocket launcher...I would not hesitate
I want to raise every voice -- at least I've got to try Every time I think about it water rises to my eyes. Situation desperate, echoes of the victims cry If I had a rocket launcher...Some son of a bitch would die
