[PenultimateManStanding]

$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('PrairieMule', ' ')
Instant Karma also gets a nod.

[PenultimateManStanding]

The connection between Religion and Art is historically irrefutable. They both answer the same need. They both spring from the same well. The modern divergence of Art and Religion is a reflection of profound alienation from basic truths. The Cave Paintings in France are clearly religious. Modern humanity is suffering from a lack of meaning. I am completely sympathetic to Religious posters such as erl. The news from Science seems to be antithetical to human values. How we can resolve this is beyond me.

[oowolf]

Art & metaphysics are clearly essential elements of the human spirit-predating horticulture. Paleolithic parietal art evidences a preoccupation with the observation of large quadrupeds-depictions of humans are very rare. Wall paintings of Pompeii, on the other hand, feature humans, composite humans (satyrs, etc.); landscape and animals function as an adjunct to human activities. From the stone age to the time of Rome we thus see an increasing artistic focus on our own species. This must mean something. Maybe that we've become a race of narcissists-more interested in ourselves and less concerned with the rest.

It's possible that the artists who executed the Chauvet paintings (32,000 years ago) were less self conscious than later humans. Perhaps the Myth of Narcissus is the proper metaphor for the human predicament we've struggled with for the last 10 or so thousand years.

I often obsess about the meaning of paleolithic art. I wonder what their music was like.

There's something very archaic in the music of the street corner guitarist/evangelist Blind Willie Johnson. His 1927 recording entitled "Dark Was The Night, Cold Was The Ground" is one of the most profound laments ever recorded. Many of his other compositions such as "Mother's Children Have a Hard Time" and "Lord, I Just Can't Keep From Crying" are some of the most existentially authentic folk songs ever recorded and make most present day gospel tunes sound decidedly third rate.

[oowolf]

These lyrics reveal Johnson's spiritual reality:
http://www.harptab.com/lyrics/ly2729.shtml

[PenultimateManStanding]

As I said to you, oowolf. I would love to see your garden that you have there in the Bitterroot Mountains. I'm not wealthy and I coudn't afford it. Kunstler thinks that the Rocky Mountains will be abandoned in the hard times ahead. Surely some will remain, I would guess that you are among them.

[PrairieMule]

$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('oowolf', 'A')rt & metaphysics are clearly essential elements of the human spirit-predating horticulture. Paleolithic parietal art evidences a preoccupation with the observation of large quadrupeds-depictions of humans are very rare. Wall paintings of Pompeii, on the other hand, feature humans, composite humans (satyrs, etc.); landscape and animals function as an adjunct to human activities. From the stone age to the time of Rome we thus see an increasing artistic focus on our own species. This must mean something. Maybe that we've become a race of narcissists-more interested in ourselves and less concerned with the rest.

[PenultimateManStanding]

You see, smallpoxgirl? People do listen if you have something to say. And all I have to say is what many others are thinking about, too.

[worrier]

Sung by the great Billie Holiday

Hush now, don't explain
Just say you'll remain
I'm glad you're back
Don't explain

Quiet don't explain
What is there to gain?
Skip that lipstick
Don't explain

You know that I love you
And what love endures
All my thoughts are of you
For I'm so completely yours

Cry to hear folks chatter
And I know you cheat
Right or wrong don't matter
When you're with me, sweet

Hush now, don't explain
You're my joy and pain
My life's yours love
Don't explain.

Or maybe Mahalia Jackson's Summertime/Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.

Both make me cry.

[PenultimateManStanding]

My son wants a Beatles tape for Christmas. It's very sweet that we both like the same music. We have a game of reflexes where you stand before your opponent with hands up. The idea is to push or fool your opponent into losing their balance. My son is now taller than me, and has gotten the idea that he can win such games. Well we played it out and I won. I gave him the line from the old Steve McQueen movie, The Cinncinnati Kid, "You're good kid, real good; but as long as I'm around, you'll always be second best". Not for long, but humor rules.

[Madpaddy]

I think most people can appreciate the next song although many of the people named in the song would only be known in Ireland - enjoy

"Delerium Tremens" by Christy Moore (Irish Folk Singer)

I dreamt a dream the other night. I couldn't sleep a wink.
The rats were trying to count the sheep and I was off the drink.
There were footsteps in the parlor and voices on the stairs.
And I was climbing up the walls and moving round the chairs.

I look out from under me blanket and up at the fireplace.
The Pope and John F. Kennedy were staring in me face.
Suddenly it dawned on me: I was getting the old D.T.'s,
When the child of Prague began to dance around the mantelpiece.

CHO: Goodbye to the port and brandy, to the vodka and the Stag,
To the Schmiddick and the Harpic, the bottle draught and keg.
As I sat lookin' up at the Guinness ad,

I could never figure out how
Your man stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout.

Well, I swore upon the Bible I'd never touch a drop.
My heart was palpitatin'. I was sure 'twas goin' to stop.
Thinkin' I was dyin', I gave my soul to God to keep,
And a tenner to St. Anthony to help me get to sleep.

I fell into an awful nightmare and got a dreadful shock.
When I dreamt where was no duty-free at the airport down in Knock.
George Seawright was sayin' the rosary and SPUC were on the pill.
Frank Patterson was gargled and singin' Spancil Hill.

I dreamt that Mr. Haughey had recaptured Crossmaglen.
Then Garret got re-elected and gave it back again.
Dick Spring and Roger Casement were on board the Marita-Ann.
As she sailed into Fenit, they were singin' "Banna Strand."

I dreamt Archbishop McNamara was on Spike Island for 3 nights,
Havin' been arrested for supportin' travelers' rights.
I dreamt that Ruari Quinn was smokin' marijuana in the Dail,
And Barry Desmond handin' Frenchies out to the scuts in Fianna Fail.

I dreamt of Nell McCafferty, and Mary Kenny too.
The things that we got up to! But I'm not tellin' you.
I dreamt I was in a Jacuzzi along with that auld whore in number 10. (Thatcher)
'Twas then I knew I'd never ever ever drink again. (Chorus)

[jupiter422]

a little before my time ,but I am a fan.