by PenultimateManStanding » Tue 26 Sep 2006, 19:36:19
$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('threadbear', 'C')ommunism is a dead issue. Someone dressed in old denim and reeking of cat piss is actually a perfect spokesman for a system that rewards mediocrity and incompetance.
The economy and political system should look something like a lovely dance, some free form, some improvizational mixed with some structured ballet.
Communists show up for a dance, with big heavy workboots on, the laces tied together and stumble through the hokey pokey thinking that's what it's all about.
Capitalists participate in a complex ballet, wearing their football gear and cleats, then want to know who won the dance at the end of the evening. If noone's bleeding, they're upset.
dancin' with their workboots on, doin' the hokey pokey. That's tops. Makes me think of Tom Waits' song "Pasties And A G String" which starts out with "Do the Hokey Pokey":
$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('', 'W')ell you put your left foot in
You take take your left foot out
Do the Hokey Pokey
Shake it all about
That's what it's all about
Smellin’ like a brewery, lookin’ like a tramp
I ain’t got a quarter, I got a postage stamp
Been five o’clock shadow boxin’ all around the town
Talkin’ with the old men, sleepin’ on the ground
Bazanti bootin’ al zootin’ al hoot and Al Cohn
Sharin’ this apartment with a telephone pole
And a fishnet stocking, spike heeled shoes
Striptease, pricktease, car keys blues
And the porno floor show, live nude girls
Dreamy and creamy and brunette curls
Chesty Morgan and Watermelon Rose
Raise my rent and take off all your clothes
With trench coats, magazines, a bottle full of rum
She’s so good, it make a dead man cum
Pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot
Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze
Wrinkles and Cherry and Twinkie and Pinkie
And Fifi live from Gay Paree
Fanfares, rim shots, backstage, who cares
All this hot burlesque for me
Cleavage, cleavage, thighs and hips
From the nape of her neck to the lipstick lips
Chopped and channeled and lowered and lewd
And the cheater slicks and baby moons
She’s a-hot and ready, creamy and sugared
And the band is awful and so are the tunes
Crawlin’ on her belly, and shakin’ like jelly
And I’m gettin’ harder than Chinese algebra-ssieres
And cheers from the compendium here
Hey sweetheart, they’re yellin’ for more
You’re squashin’ out your cigarette butts on the floor
And I like Shelly, and you like Jane
And what was the girl with the snakeskin’s name?
And it’s an early bird matinee, come back any day
Get you a little something that you can’t get at home
And get you a little something that you can’t get at home
It’s pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot
Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze
Popcorn, front row, higher than a kite
And I’ll be back tomorrow night
And I’ll be back tomorrow night