roots

Radical simply means grasping things at the root.

Angela Davis

the music of invasion and occupation

This weekend I listened to the Fort Collins Wind Symphony perform “Music for Prague 1968.” It was written by Czech-born Karl Husa as a reaction to the Soviet invasion and occupation of Czechoslovakia that began in August of 1968.

The music is filled with dissonance and terrible emotion. There are moments of militaristic nationalism as snare drums beat out marches. There are the sounds of air raid sirens contrasted with the sounds of birds singing. There is terror, fear, pain, sadness, and momentary glimpses of hope. The bells in the song were written to reflect the sounds of Prague, known as the City of a Hundred Spires; they just as viscerally echo the sounds of Fallujah, the City of Mosques. It was an intense and powerful performance that was emotionally exhausting.

Performed in the present, “Music for Prague 1968” is a statement about other invasions, other occupations. The song is Nablus. Gaza. Kabul. It is music for Baghdad 2008.

ate up all of my corn

the sloop john b is such a good song. it's just so good. i can't explain it. i wish i could have sailed with my grandfather. my grandparents did sail. they sailed around the caribbean a few times. my parents, too. that's not what's going on in the song and now i'm just rambling.

tomorrow there's gonna be a really, really free market. lots of free shit and, most importantly, an effort to get together in a way that is outside of capitalism, that is something different. i've been putting together a bunch of zines to have there, in case folks want to read about the kind of stuff that's in the zines i like.

mostly, i feel like a bunch of things. it's one of those nights that music really feels right. that's not always the way it is with me. some times it is just so right and feels so good.

........................

remember and that is a tree there in the corn field
and when we wandered in your dream it was i
who awoke and was left with nothing but a memory
that fragments more with every night that passes

i once lived elsewhere
and nibil is my name-o

when rain and sun spoke to my skin in a language
that i was born with
when time had no meaning
and the nights were full of wonder

elephants dance in the garden
the paving stones are loose
with a crowbar and a dream, my friend,
we will upend this universe
and write our destinies in it’s shadow

by the window leaves fall to the ground
when we stand, we stand outside
our hands close together
morning dwells by our bedside
and quickly departs
we are but a moment

m. silihin

seven twenty seven

I'm drinking hot instant coffee. We're finally out of the regular coffee that we dumpstered last May (except for some hazelnut, which is kinda weird stuff).

It's really foggy this morning and I'm dressed in a pink bathrobe. I stayed up late last night, slogging through endless websites. I think I was looking for meaning online, which is about the most ridiculous endeavor I can imagine. I feel a little more sane this morning. I think the fog helps.

quick list of thoughts as i'm sitting here

comic books without covers
bean shells
pink horizons and steel blue spaceships
yellow leaves
bookshelves made out of salvaged 1x4s
dry mouth
the rumble of a washing machine
the train tracks that i used to live by
cement walls
that russian night and sweaters
prison cells
teeth and that tooth that we saw yesterday in a drawstring bag
coffee in a glass jar
wood burning stove
standing outside talking and too many bags on his handle bars
cots
woodpile
ax
woodpecker
talons
stoves
and only things that are solid

beans

We’ve started shelling the pinto beans we grew in the front-yard garden this summer. They were harvested awhile ago and have been hanging from the ceiling of the porch, getting dry and ready to shell. It’s really cool. It’s surprising how much I like it. These hard, speckled beans, they’re actually beautiful. Being able to grow something that has a lot of protein and makes for delicious meals feels really good to me.

We didn’t plant just a ton of them; it was more of an experiment to find out how it was to grow beans. It worked out really well and we’re planning on growing lots more this next spring.

Tomatoes and peppers are ripening, too, and we’re eating lots of those. Tomatoes from the garden are something else.