rock and roll musings by Tim Byrnes

The Sixties Are Over: The Ballad of Maura Culhane

     In the  last three weeks my senior cat Camille has disappeared, I found my alleycat Grumpy's body in the dumpster, having been hit by a car and deposited there by a thoughtful neighbor and my 88 year old Aunt Maura passed away. Maura Culhane lived all but the last 15 years of her life in the environs of New York City, a single woman negotiating the early morning streets alone. She came away hard w/what we liberals condesceningly call the 'just the way it was at the time' racism.

     God bless her she still called 'em niggers to the day she died. She was a tough old uncompromising bird who really didn't like much of anything and could suck the air out of a room at will.  Cynical as the day is long and bitter, oh my god  was she bitter.

     She spent the last 15 years of her life in front of various trelevisions, essentially waiting to die. So I can  see from the above paragraph that I am JUST like this woman, so I obviously have a lot of introspection due (that phrase was so awkward because I refuse to say 'soul searching'. I'm such a pussy.)


    And I  certainly can't read THIS at the funeral!
    Or could I!

     Going on radio silence for awhile. Take it away, Jim.
tb

Posted by: timbyrnes at 16:56 | link | comments (22)

Boxing Outside the Think: A Dream Sequence

   (Authors note: The standard accusation thrown at me by our resident Christofascist is that I'm an entertainer and not a serious person. I refer the word 'artist', as I don't get paid for this shit, but that's another story. He once rebuked me w/ a snide "No business like show business, eh Tim?" To which I reply: THERE'S NO BUSINESS BUT SHOW BUSINESS! An idea, a belief, a feeling, a creed, a code of morality, whatever, once you start the attempt to share it w/other people, you start selling it! There is no purity inside or outside of self, because we are all products of our history. We are all products of our education. We are all products of our upbringing. We are all products of our individual, personal inclinations which are, of course, formed and informed by all of the above. Bottom line: We are all products.)    

     "It's a hot night here at the Heavenly Polo Grounds. I'm yr ring announcer Lester Bangs, and we're here for the Fight of the Afterlife. The fighters are just now entering the ring."

      (Mic slowly falls from clouds)

     LBangs: " In this corner, ladies and gentlemen, the challenger. Standing 6 feet 3 and 3/4 inches, weighing in at 148 lbs. soaking wet w/change in his pockets. The Nihilist From the East: Mahwah Tim Byrnes"

       (Loud booing from crowd, scatterred cheering from the section that smells suspiciously like sulphur)

     LBangs: "And in this corner, the reigning champion of all He surveys, standing higher than the clouds in all His eternal majesty, weighing in on everything that ever matterred and, praise him, always backing the right horse. He's mean, he's clean, the Galillean Grappler, The Nazarene Knockout King, Ladies and Gentlemen, yr Saviour and mine Jeeeeeeeeeeesus. H. Chriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiist!!!!!!!!"

       (Tumultous, nay, rapturous applause, halos getting flung in the air, glorious trumpet music comin' outta nowhere, and I swear I saw a couple of bitches flying, man!)

      LBangs: "Our Lord and Saviour is in his corner praying w/cornerman Jim Muglia. Let's see if I can get them on mic. (Loud electrical zapping sound. Bangs appears back onscreen, face now blackened) Well, that didn't work, maybe we can listen in  on Byrnes and his cornerman, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright."

     JWright: "Now I wants you to git in dere and justa kick dat honky's ass! Kick him in da Holy Balls!!! Ain't representing shit for us. Now kick his thorny headed, water walkin', tragedy ingnorin', broke his promise to the promised people's, loaves and fishes multiplyin'  ASS!"    

     Byrnes:   Uh, ......OK

     (ding!)             

     LBangs: "Round one! Byrnes comes out, looking even whiter than usual, he's got his arms outstreched, and he's walking up to Jesus w/and I can't believe this, folks, w/his chin up! Jesus floats like a butterfly, one of the many wonders of His creation, up to Byrnes, and it's a right! A hard right! Another right, another right, another and another and another right. Byrnes is reeling and bleeding from his potty mouth. Another hard right from He who came to save the world!  Byrnes is waving his arms spasmodically, looking like Joe Cocker in a fish bowl. Byrnes staggers up  to Jesus, spits out his false teeth and, oh my goodness, he's kicked Jesus in the Holy Balls. I can't really see too well now, what w/all the flames and lightning suddenly filling this arena, ladies and gentlemen, but it appears that Jesus is pissed! "

(15 minutes later)

     LBangs: (Sounding bored) "And another right. And another. And another. Byrnes is little more than a long, skinny pulp of blood w/big ears, now, folks. Jesus stands back and raises his arms. The crowd roars!!! The arena is filled w/the triumphant light of good over evil once again. Pepperland is saved. The mouth of Byrnes has been silenced. Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus! Huzzah! Huzzah!!!!   Oh, what's this?  Byrnes is moving, he's trying to raise himself off the canvas! Great googly moogly, folks, I can't believe it!  He's on his knees now, facing Jesus! He's taking his gloves off! Could this be the long awaited surrender and supplication of the heathen Byrnes, for which so many of the faithful have prayed so long??!!! Oh, no, he's raising his hands to the Lord, I think he's making a one fingered gest............. "

     (Suddenly the screen shot slips upscreen like unraveled film and from offstage left comes that Oscar winning rabbit, Bugs Bunny, carrying a large pair of scissors and wearing a wily grin)

     BBunny: "Sorry, folks, but due to circumstances beyond our control, and understanding, we are unable to show you the rest of this cartoon. But let me tell ya what happened................................"

De-Ba-De-Ba-De g-g-g-god d-d-damn am-am-america!

Posted by: timbyrnes at 17:09 | link | comments (104)

Told Ya We Were Doomed. Told Ya, Told Ya. Didn't I Tell Ya?

     I was watching the lovely Sara Vowell on Jon Stewart the other night and she was riffing on how, absent the type of reassurance that comes from real leadership during a crisis such as the imminent failure of the American, if not global, financial system, she consoled herself by going online and re-reading FDR's Fireside Chats. Yes, it was funny, but it'd have been funnier if it weren't so damn sad. And possibly true. We as a people find ourselves staring down the barrel of No Future for real, and all we wanna do is look back.

     To FDR. To Jesus. To the fictional 'good old days' we've all invented. To the America that never existed, the one where all men are created equal. To a time when we could ignore the world 'cause it wasn't in our face 24/7 in this magical new era of multimass communication. To a time when might made right and nobody asked any questions.

     And whither our leadership? W.'s turned into a blurry photograph of a President. McCain's running around like Al Haig whenever Reagan took a nap ("I'm in charge!!! I'm in charge!!"). Sarah Palin's providing material for Tina Fey. Obama is, of course, too cool for school. He's really not doing anuthing much more than projecting calm, but seems to me that, while comfort might ultimately be a useless commodity when yr house is on fire, it is after all, comforting.

     And this is the best we can do? Maybe we are doomed.

     Just an additional note of paranoia before I go: Be aware that W. has written into law something called Executive Order 51, which apparently allows him to suspend, in the event of a national crisis, any or all government activity, up to and including the election. Also, at the same time a battalion of Army soldiers (who's anacronym is prounounced SEA-SMURFS), a battalion that up until recently was in Iraq, containing civilian populations, is now currently training in Colorado Springs. Google it. Juan Espinoza wrote 1 of only 2 articles I've read about this in The Pueblo Chieftain, of all places.

     I'm just saying.

tb

Posted by: timbyrnes at 17:54 | link | comments (47)

An Open Letter the the 3 or 4 People Stll Reading This Crap

     First off, in the interest of disclosure, I'd like it on the record that I haver never killed a baby. Thought about it once on a long bus trip, but never went through w/it. I see that during my absence (just working a lot, nothing major) our disinvited, yet somehow still resident, Christofascist wingnut has been busy.

     This is a man who somehow sees my potential 'salvation' (read: my falling for the same fantasy he has, oh, and in exactly the same manner) not as a reacharound by the arm of compassion, but as a VICTORY!!! Something about me w/my tail between my legs.

    There's that Christian love I've read so much about. My take is that man invented god, right? Now of course I could be wrong but not Jim! Oh no, he knows the mind of god, this god of love and mercy that gives this little peckerwood the license to call people 'baby killers'. Once again, if that's yr god, Jim, then fuck her.

     You are not going to 'shut down' punkrock and neither am I going to ban you from here like you've been banned from those Christian websites for your hate filled nonsense (I cop to posting hate filled nonsense, too, but as I've never claimed to represent a loving god, I'm not the hypocrite here. You are.) And I'll tell ya why I'm not going to ban you. For one thing, I believe in free speech, no matter how idiotic, Also, Jim, you are the most unintentionally funny person this side of Sarah Palin. But most importantly, to me, I love giving you a forum so the 3 or 4 people that are still reading this crap can see the venal stupidity that results when someone takes Christianity to the extremes that you have. Thanks for doing my work for me.

     We get it, yr anti-choice. Then don't get an abortion, MAN. Focus on yr own damn family (oh, and btw, the reason I don't ask about yr kids is I don't give a fuck about yr kids. Do you give a fuck about my cats? No. So, shut up.) and post yr drivel elsewhere. One post of disagreement is usually enough, especially when yr posting where yr not wanted, but 50 plus posts basically represents a diseased ego talking to itself.

     Oh, and yr paranoid, too. Matching timestamps in order to determine the identity of a poster. Pathetic.

     One last question; how lonely do you have to be to hijack someone else's blog? Go ahead and bask in the reflected glow of my mediocrity if you must, but trust me, we're not laughing w/you. We're laughing at you.

tb

Posted by: timbyrnes at 16:14 | link | comments (19)