SEARCH THIS BLOG

Followers

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

WALKIN' DOWN THE ROAD WITH A PISTOL IN MY WAIST...

TQ DEMOGRAPHIC

Here's a glimpse into the chief traffic drivers to our homepage. My twitter friends may be surprised to see how small a piece of the pie comes from pageviews attributable to followers of that app.

Referring Sites

EntryPageviews
14781








1888








1528








1376








1005








668








637








601








394








393








Sunday, February 17, 2013

REBEL! REBEL!



We refuse to be
What you wanted us to be;
We are what we are:
That's the way (way) it's going to be. If you don't know!
You can't educate I
For no equal opportunity:
(Talkin' 'bout my freedom) Talkin' 'bout my freedom,
People freedom (freedom) and liberty!
Yeah, we've been trodding on the winepress much too long:
Rebel, rebel!
Yes, we've been trodding on the winepress much too long:
Rebel, rebel!


Babylon system is the vampire, yea! (vampire)
Suckin' the children day by day, yeah!
Me say: de Babylon system is the vampire, falling empire,
Suckin' the blood of the sufferers, yea-ea-ea-ea-e-ah!
Building church and university, wo-o-ooh, yeah! -
Deceiving the people continually, yea-ea!
Me say them graduatin' thieves and murderers;
Look out now: they suckin' the blood of the sufferers (sufferers).
Yea-ea-ea! (sufferers)



Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth right now!
Come on and tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Come on and tell the children the truth.



'Cause - 'cause we've been trodding on ya winepress much too long:
Rebel, rebel!
And we've been taken for granted much too long:
Rebel, rebel now!



(Trodding on the winepress) Trodding on the winepress (rebel):
got to rebel, y'all (rebel)!
We've been trodding on the winepress much too long - ye-e-ah! (rebel)
Yea-e-ah! (rebel) Yeah! Yeah!



From the very day we left the shores (trodding on the winepress)
Of our Father's land (rebel),
We've been trampled on (rebel),
Oh now! (we've been oppressed, yeah!) Lord, Lord, go to ... 



Now we know everything we got to rebel
Somebody got to pay for the work
We've done, rebel.


Drone Strikes - Does America Approve?

Johann Sebastian Bach Mass in B Minor,Nikolaus Harnoncourt

Saturday, February 16, 2013

CONTEMPLATING...

...many new changes that will be occuring in the TQ Dharma.  This will be your home page for personal commentary and the "news" that you'll be getting here will be about our web footprint overall, most importantly these 7 Google blogs. (Plus Annex, which is tumblr.com).  Thanks to everyone who follows in whatever permutation and we're committed to improving our overall product, which includes encouraging more interaction from you.  Stay tuned to WTQN, and "spes sibi quisque," Ananda.



Friday, February 15, 2013

Ry Cooder - How Can A Poor Man Stand Such Times And Live



 ...I remember a time when every thing was cheap
Now prices nearly puts a man to sleep
Well, when we get our grocery bill
We feel like making our will
Tell me, how can a poor man stand such times and live ?
Tell me, how can a poor man stand such times and live ?

Well, the doctor comes around with his face all bright
And he says, "In a little while you'll be all right!"
Well, all he gives is a humbug pill
Dose of dope and a great big bill
Tell me, how can a poor man stand such times and live ?
Tell me, how can a poor man stand such times and live ?

Most preachers, well, they preach for gold and not for soul
Well, that's what keeps us poor folks always in a hole
Now, we can hardly get our breath
Taxed and schooled and preached to death
Tell me, how can a poor man stand such times and live ?
Tell me, how can a poor man stand such times and live ?

Asteroid 2012 DA14 on February 15 2013 Close Encounter With Earth

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Valentine's Day on u local

@v@
   0
  



u local

 

Show off your cute couple photos on u local!

Do you think you are the cutest couple? If so prove it by sharing your photo, along with a brief story about what makes you the cutest couple on u local!
More

Your Photos and Videos

 

See and share backyard wildlife photos on u local

Browse all the great pictures and videos from your community, shared by people just like you. Then, share your own. Check it out on u local.
More
 
Advertising
 

Hot Story

 

States with the most single people

Single? Find out where you're not alone. Here's a look at the states with the most single people, according...
More Details »

u Local

 

Show off your best shot on u local!

Check out what u local members' believe to be their best shot, then show off your own on u local!
More Details »

Sports

 

Bass, Garnett leads Celtics past Bulls

Brandon Bass collected 14 points and nine rebounds and Kevin Garnett added 12 and 11 as Boston outmuscled v...
More Details »

Entertainment

 

The most romantic movies ever

Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in Titanic
Paramount Pictures
We salute the most romantic movies of all time.
More

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY (Rudolph Valentino 1923)

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

IT'S ALWAYS HARD SIGNING OFF

Please, Please, Please by James Brown and the Famous Flames on Grooveshark

Edition of 14 February 2013 (98 contributors)




 
TQ NEWS
avatar Published by
Terry A. Travers
14 February 2013
Stories Politics Society Art & Entertainment Leisure Business #p2 #sotu
 
Today's headline
TQ NEWS: ASH WEDNESDAY
avatar Shared by
Terry Travers
thumbnail trrytrvrs­.blogspot.com - Because I do not hope to turn again Because I do not hope Because I do not hope to turn Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope I no longer strive to strive towards such things (Why should th...
 
98 contributors - featured today:
 
 
Read paper →
 

Email powered by logo


If you have not requested this notification or wish not be notified anymore of this paper's updates, delete subscription.

We are committed to protecting your privacy - more on our Privacy Policy.


ASH WEDNESDAY


 

Ash-Wednesday
by T S Eliot


Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.


II

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to satiety
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.


III

At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.

IV

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew
And after this our exile

V

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people.

VI

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.
'Ash-Wednesday', from Collected Poems 1909-1962 by T S Eliot, © T S Eliot 1963, Faber & Fa 
 Thanks to http://www.msgr.ca/ for this.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Joan Baez - Manhã de Carnaval - English Subtitle

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, so I'm offering up my favorite "Fat Tuesday" song from my favorite contemporary folkie. Was it really almost 50 years ago that we chased all over Newport trying to find you. Love Forever (Young) ! TQ

Saturday, February 9, 2013

'SCUZE ME...WHILE I...KISS THIS GUY!

Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix on Grooveshark

Purple haze all in my brain
Lately things just don't seem the same
Actin' funny, but I don't know why...