Friday, January 28, 2011

Monday, January 24, 2011

How The Press Attacks WikiLeaks, Julian Assange

Just had to take a Wiki-Leak. Aaaah!

Bob Dylan & Dave Van Ronk

"I'm a gonna let you blow the horn!" Those great early sixties days in New York. Here Dave Van Ronk and a newly arrived Bob Dylan give a rendition of Woody's car song. Something Arlo heard many times as a little kid.

Saturday, January 22, 2011


The six are:
NEWS: This is it!
PIX: My own photos and those of selected others.
YAYAS: Get 'em out! It's music in every conceivable form.
RETRO: The lessons of the past.
FLIX: Films I've picked for your enjoyment.
RED JANE BIRD: All I can say is, "res ipsa loquitur."

TO improve the quantity and quality and quickness of blogging, beginning January 25, 2011, links will no longer be personally addressed on social networks. You're encouraged to sign up for RSS feed to make sure you're included in future postings.
Thanks to all who follow in whatever medium.
I appreciate your patronage.
"spes sibi quisque" (Each is his/her own hope)
~Terry A. Travers


It's been a hell of a ride, Keith. But the Nazis (oops! There I go alluding to those nasties from last century.) are endangering Casablanca (MSNBC?) and it's time to get on that plane and move on. Just drop us a line to let us know how things are in Brazzaville, and how we can get your signal from there. "Keep the Faith!" ~TQ

Friday, January 21, 2011

TELL HIM WHAT YOU WANT! (but nooo bullets!)


By G. A. Studdert-Kennedy

When Jesus came to Golgatha,
They hanged Him on a tree,
They drove great nails through hands and feet,
And made a Calvary.
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns,
Red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days,
And human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham
They simply passed Him by,
They never hurt a hair of Him,
They only let Him die;
For men have grown more tender,
And they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street,
And left Him in the rain.

Still Jesus cried, 'Forgive them,
For they know not what they do!
And still it rained the winter rain
That drenched Him through and through;
The crowd went home and left the streets
Without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall
And cried for Calvary.