Le Colonel Neville s’habille Tojours Pour le Diner. Semper Fi. Thomas Sowell: "There are three questions that I think would destroy most of the arguments on the left. The first is compared to what? The second is at what cost and the third is what hard evidence do you have?” Live free or die or both. Satirical empirical conservative. No, really.
Sunday, 7 September 2008
The Celebration of Mohammad the Reptile King.
Hey, Franz Kafka. The Metamorphis. The Trial. Just like a "How To Islamise" for today! Islamisation of the West is happening incrementally, like a ratchet: always relentlessly adding one more slot and without most people really noticing. Man, until one is not only surrounded by Sharia Creep and Sharia creeps, but you yourself are eventually infected in some way, as is your neighbourhood, the body politic, the media, schools, workplaces, the government and your associates etc, etc ad nauseum.
But here's the kicker: nobody believes it and that's why everyone flinches when they hear a loud bang. You just know everyone is thinking the religion of pieces as you are now. Poor bastards. Just not this time, sport.
“I woke up this morning and got myself a beer.
The future’s uncertain and the end is always near”. Roadhouse Blues. Jim Morrison and the Doors.
I've always thought how nicely Jim Morrison and the Doors doing their Celebration of the Lizard, Not To Touch The Earth panorama and medley thang, evokes the happening scenes of Mohammad, Islam and the Koran. Like these lines do:
“Lions in the street and roaming
Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming
A beast caged in the heart of a city...
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world forget the people
And we'll erect a different steeple..
Reptiles abounding
Fossils, caves, cool air heights...
All now sleeping…There’s been a slaughter here...
With a strange creature groaning beside him
Sweat oozed from its shiny skin...
Feel the good cold stinging blood...
The snake was pale gold
Glazed and shrunken
We were afraid to touch it...
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called 'go insane'...
And I'm right there I'm going too
Release control we're breaking thru...
Wound in sheets
And daughters, smug...
The ceremony is about to begin
Wake up!
You can't remember where it was
Had this dream stopped?
Not to touch the earth
Not to see the sun
Nothing left to do, but
Run, run, run
Let's run”. The Doors. The Celebration of the Lizard.
Now if you can go with the conceit, it’s a little as if the alcoholic, clinically depressed acid head and laugh a minute genius didn’t die in Paris, but lived on and is writing from a spot near one of the over 750 no-go zones in France. It’s a groovy and hip piece. Ok, non-sequitur and slim in narrative clarity, a bit corny here and there, I know. Hey, it was the 1960's after all. But dig the weight of the words, much like the weight one feels once you have the understanding of the truth of Islam. Note the sudden explosive lines, the startling and prescient images a la the Islamic.
It’s all rather resonant don't ya think? But then the world is most resonant at night...
Knowing Morrison, the highly intelligent, extremely well read, rather perceptive and analytical soul that he was, he’d probably state the awful clear truth of what’s a’ happening over there, here and everywhere rather more harshly and dynamically today. Man, I wish he didn’t die, that James Douglas Morrison. We need you now. No, really. There's maybe not a single artist in the public mind today, that has a damn thing of any worth or authenticity to say about what should be the major subject: Islam. It is as they say, beyond their ken.
What’s the buzz? Tell me what’s a happening? It’s a disaster in Eurabia etc, and the disaster is on a permanent world tour, kid.
The Celebration of the Lizard. Jim Morrison and the Doors.
Lions in the street and roaming
Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming
A beast caged in the heart of a city
The body of his mother
Rotting in the summer ground
He fled the town
He went down South and crossed the border
Left the chaos and disorder
Back there over his shoulder
One morning he awoke in a green hotel
With a strange creature groaning beside him
Sweat oozed from its shiny skin
Is everybody in?
The ceremony is about to begin
Wake up!
You can't remember where it was
Had this dream stopped?
The snake was pale gold
Glazed and shrunken
We were afraid to touch it
The sheets were hot dead prisons
And she was beside me
Old, she's not, young
Her dark red hair
Her white soft skin
Now, run to the mirror in the bathroom
Look!
I can't live thru each slow century of her moving
I let my cheek slide down
The cool smooth tile
Feel the good cold stinging blood
The smooth hissing snakes of rain . . .
Once I had, a little game
I liked to crawl back into my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called 'go insane'
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world forget the people
And we'll erect a different steeple
This little game is fun to do
Just close your eyes no way to lose
And I'm right there I'm going to
Release control we're breaking thru
Way back deep into the brain
Back where there's never any pain
And the rain falls gently on the town
And over the heads of all of us
And in the labyrinth of streams
Beneath, the quiet unearthly presence of
Nervous hill dwellers in the gentle hills around
Reptiles abounding
Fossils, caves, cool air heights
Each house repeats a mold
Windows rolled
Beast car locked in against morning
All now sleeping
Rugs silent, mirrors vacant
Dust blind under the beds of lawful couples
Wound in sheets
And daughters, smug
With semen eyes in their nipples
Wait
There's been a slaughter here
(Don't stop to speak or look around
Your gloves and fan are on the ground
We're getting out of town
We're going on the run
And you're the one I want to come)
Not to touch the earth
Not to see the sun
Nothing left to do, but
Run, run, run
Let's run
House upon the hill
Moon is lying still
Shadows of the trees
Witnessing the wild breeze
C'mon baby run with me
Let's run
Run with me
Run with me
Run with me
Let's run
The mansion is warm, at the top of the hill
Rich are the rooms and the comforts there
Red are the arms of luxuriant chairs
And you won't know a thing till you get inside
Dead president's corpse in the driver's car
The engine runs on glue and tar
C'mon along, we're not going very far
To the East to meet the Czar
Some outlaws lived by the side of the lake
The minister's daughter's in love with the snake
Who lives in a well by the side of the road
Wake up, girl! We're almost home
Sun, sun, sun
Burn, burn, burn
Soon, soon, soon
Moon, moon, moon
I will get you
Soon!
Soon!
Soon!
Let the carnival bells ring
Let the serpent sing
Let everything
We came down
The rivers and highways
We came down from
Forests and falls
We came down from
Carson and Springfield
We came down from
Phoenix enthralled
And I can tell you
The names of the Kingdom
I can tell you
The things that you know
Listening for a fistful of silence
Climbing valleys into the shade
I am the Lizard King. I can do anything
I can make the earth stop in its tracks
I made the blue cars go away
For seven years I dwelt
In the loose palace of exile
Playing strange games
With the girls of the island
Now I have come again
To the land of the fair, and the strong, and the wise
Brothers and sisters of the pale forest
O Children of Night
Who among you will run with the hunt?
Now Night arrives with her purple legion
Retire now to your tents and to your dreams
Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth
I want to be ready”.
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