Tic Tac:  A very refreshing moment.

I'm cheating.  I'm posting videos I like, as my internal system has crashed.  You may hate the music, which is OK. You can turn the sound down.  This is being voice-overed in ASL.  See how powerful the words are.  Feel them.

MARILYN MANSON:




KANYE WEST ET AL.

Sometimes I have to stop listening to NPR.  The constant in-depth reporting of the endless maladies of our world lose their charm.  I have to give up for a bit, knowing that in amongst the doom there are many gems I've missed.

Tonight, I drove out to the Cannery, a medium security women's facility of the Philadelphia Prisons System.  I hold Monday night 12-Step meetings there.  After I'd signed in at ASD, I waited in the parking lot of the Cannery, listening to NPR interview my hero Temple Grandin.  Sad to miss the last half of the program, I went up to the gates at the appointed time.

It was a good meeting, ebbing and flowing between hope and despair, in a way an outside meeting does.  Only it's more so inside, in my experience.  We all suffer the mood swings of addiction, the women inside suffering lost freedoms, children, partners, yet expressing hope that this will be their last bid.  I may be glad to leave, but sometimes I succumb to hopelessness, thinking that the message of experience, strength and hope that I carry will only live behind the razor wire.

That really isn't my problem though.  If I trust the greater spirit, then my part is done.  I only wish I did trust more.  I see amazing women, who have humour and grace in an untenable position.  But when they walk out into the chaotic world, they are sorely under duress, lacking funds, life skills; the list goes on.

Anyway, as I drove home, NPR was playing the music of an African man on their PRI program that you can listen to here.  Until recently Victor Deme has been largely ignored.  Not because his music was bad.  Rather, it did not conform to the music of his country.  You may also like to see a video of Msr. Deme, which I offer you also:

Also, I would like to say that I am sorry for being away for a bit.  I've been loony-tunes with a bit of barking mad recently.  Awful, actually.  That said, I've been working on killing my computer with heavy doses of cat hair, relentless saving of useless info, a dash of liquid and bloody felines that see it as a great way to get attention.  To the point where I may open the first ever "My Cat on Keyboard" blog. (@2009)!

So for my birthday, Cricket is going to have this puppy tuned up, bless her.  Guess I'll have to pull out all that porn I've been down-, or is it up-loading when it's sexy?  Which means, boys 'n' girls, my berloody computer is going away.  As of tomorrow.  So I'll see you in the next decade.  Have fun, enjoy the Mad Tree Party we set up but have yet to invite anyone to and throw some Marlins on the grill.

Cricket will lend me her fancy-pants computer whilst mine's gone.  But you know how this is.  See you in a week or so, sweeties!

Mea Culpa.  I wrote in the last blog's comments that Sonic Youth had covered "I Will Survive".  Well spank me with another round of Electro-Shock-"Therapy", I had it all sorts of confused.  See, I barely know who I'm listening to and even less what the god-wot they're saying.  It may be my mad mind, or it may be a delightful pass-down from my mum.

When my mum was a child, going to church, she fell deeply in love with the Hymn, "Gladly The Cross-Eyed Bear".  When she told me, it just curled my heart and imagination, to the point that I was snapping up all sorts defective bears.  A pattern that continued into my love-life.  But that could have roots in a father that could not hug me, nor say he loved me.   Smack me with a Freud Stick and cover me with therapy.

So, it all comes down to my recent cock-up.  Sonic Youth actually covered The Carpenters, whilst Cake covered Ms. Gaynor.


Sadly, the most brilliant covers were done by the late Odetta.  She covered LeadBelly's songs to a whole new sort of being.  She will be sorely missed, but more so when the world realizes the loss.  I'm just beginning to feel it, so I leave you with another clip of her.



She is no longer with us, only because we are not yet there.  When she sings, she is speaking the exquisite sounds of our long lost selves.

OK.  This is supposed to be a holiday season.  But let's face it, it's often a time of extra work, of stress, of money spent, of obligations and a far different fare than the word "holiday" connotes.  People are dying in the mad rush for seasonal sales, families are often unable to come together emotionally or physically and the Grinch manifested in Bush has stolen eight years of our prezzies.  So, for your sake and mine, I bring you five videos that may turn that frown upside down.


Dee Lite, Groove is in the Heart.

Parliament Funkadelic Concert, The Mothership Connection.

James Brown and Pavarotti, It's a Man's World.

Gloria Gaynor, I Will Survive. 

Public Enemy, Fight the Power. 

Five?  Say it ain't so!  I'm having too much fun, remembering the good ole days.  So, coz rules are made to be broken, here are a few more: 


Shirley Bassey, History Repeating (remix)

Ludo, Love Me Dead. 


Ray Charles, Hit the Road Jack!

And in what may be one of my favourite duos ever,


Ibrahim Ferrer and Omara Portuondo, Silencio.

My dear friend Susan tagged me for this .  Basically, you pick your favourite holiday songs.  This is the first year where I haven't had to wear ear-protection when shopping.  I kid you not.  The relentless musical joy used to be an awful, ironic score to my dulled, sick and saddened mind.  This year, I'm not bothered.  In fact, I've found myself even humming some carols.  'Tis my season of hope!

You should know that I was born in England, the daughter of an Irish Catholic father and a Scottish Presbyterian mother.  When we moved to Belgium when I was ten, my mental health issues made the school required my seeing a psychiatrist as a condition of my continued enrollment.  So instead, I went to boarding school in England, until we moved to the States.

My fondest memories of the Christmas season were formed early and reinforced by four years at the religious boarding school.  I joined the choir, having tried out as a joke.  The teacher was impressed by my alto through soprano range.  Years later, I sang on stage in New Jersey State Theatre.  My first choice is the carol I sang:


Coventry Carol.

The Holly and the Ivy.

In the Bleak Midwinter.

O Holy Night, (hearing).
O Holy Night, (ASL).

Silent Night. a lovely rendition which makes the sound of silence a sacred affair. 


This was an enjoyable distraction for me.  But I know how crazy the holidays are.  I haven't plucked a single dark hair off my chin in weeks.  So, here's the deal.  If you chose to participate, then it's on you.  Be sure to backlink.  I want to stalk you, 'kay?

I categorically love Amy Winehouse.  Her voice spans and includes all of the most brilliant female artists, and some men too.  That said, her incredible rise has been stabbed with everything from drugs to drink to messy love affairs.  So, with a little hesitation, I give you a video of Ms. Winehouse on stage.  The clip claims that she is drunk.  I should be so lucky.....to sing like that........look like that...............