Daddy's Little Princess.

[Violet]

STRIPPING ALTAMONT

.. okay.. since Altamont has come up.. [although it wasn't central to what I thought I was doing, and yet, in many respects it's entirely central].. anyway, I thought I'd post my key source's take on the infamous killing, since there's a lot of misinformation out there on this, and I think he does a good job of clarifying some of that.

Before I re-read the following excerpt this morning, I looked up the "snuff" footage itself, and could NOT detect the gun that Meredith Hunter was allegedly brandishing, no matter how many times I watched the footage. What I DID note was that the young man was black, and the only black person I could see in frame.

.. anyway, I thought I'd post here the infamous footage for your own perusal. A WARNING, here: this footage actually SHOWS the stabbing of this man, so if you don't feel you're up to viewing that, please move on. It's all explained in the excerpt below, in any event.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rn4f9KO3 ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

.. actually, this event is more clearly made out [given it's slowed down] in this mini-doc footage starting at 5:00:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxnVY37b0ME&feature
FULL SCREEN..

.. and now for some excerpted material from my [yet unnamed] source on all this:

On December 6, 1969... Mick and Keith, along with.. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young and the Flying Burrito Brothers, all gathered at a desolate speedway known as Altamont to stage a free concert. By the time it was over, four people were dead and another 850 concert-goers were injured to varying degrees, mostly by members of the Hell’s Angels swinging leaded pool cues.

The Angels had, of course, been hired by the Stones to ostensibly provide security. That decision is almost universally cast as an innocent mistake on the part of the band, though such a claim is difficult to believe. It was certainly no secret that the reactionary motorcycle clubs, formed by former military men, were openly hostile to hippies and anti-war activists; as early as 1965, they had brutally attacked peaceful anti-war demonstrators while police, who had courteously allowed the Angels to pass through their line, looked on. It was also known that the Angels were heavily involved in trafficking meth, a drug that was widely blamed for the ugliness that had descended over the Haight.

Perhaps less well known was that more than a few of those biker gangs had uncomfortably close ties to Charlie Manson, particularly a club known as the Straight Satans, one of whose members, Danny DeCarlo, watched over the Family’s arsenal of weapons. At least one of the performers taking the stage at Altamont, curiously enough, also had close ties to the motorcycle clubs; as was revealed in his autobiography, Crosby “had friends in every Bay Area chapter of the Hells Angels.”


THE DEATH that the concert at Altamont will always be remembered for, of course, is that of Meredith Hunter, the young man who was stabbed to death by members of the Hell’s Angels right in front of the stage while the band (in this case, the Rolling Stones) played on. The song they were playing, contrary to most accounts of the incident, was Sympathy for the Devil, as was initially reported in Rolling Stone magazine based on the accounts of several reporters on the scene and a review of the unedited film stock.

Most accounts claim that Hunter was killed while the band performed Under My Thumb. All such claims are based on the mainstream snuff film Gimme Shelter, in which the killing was deliberately presented out of sequence. In the absence of any alternative filmic versions of Hunter’s death, the Maysles brothers’ film became the default official orthodoxy. Of course, someone went to great lengths to insure that there would be only one available version of events; as Rolling Stone also reported, shortly after the concert, “One weird Altamont story has to do with a young Berkeley filmmaker who claims to have gotten 8MM footage of the killing. He got home from the affair Saturday and began telling his friends about his amazing film. His house was knocked over the next night, completely rifled. The thief took only his film, nothing else.”

Contrary to the impression created by Gimme Shelter, Hunter was killed not long into the Stones’ set. But as the film’s editor, Charlotte Zwerin, explained to Salon some thirty years later, the climax of the movie always has to come at the end: “We’re talking about the structure of a film. And what kind of concert film are you going to be able to have after somebody has been murdered in front of the stage? Hanging around for another hour would have been really wrong in terms of the film.” What wasn’t wrong, apparently, was deliberately altering the sequence of events in what was ostensibly a documentary film.

One of the young cameramen working for the Maysles brothers that day, curiously enough, was a guy by the name of George Lucas (it is unclear whether it was Lucas who captured the conveniently unobstructed footage of the murder.) Not long after, Lucas began a meteoric rise to the very top of the Hollywood food chain. Also present that day, and featured in the film gyrating atop a raised platform near the stage, was the King of the Freaks himself, Vito Paulekas. [to be further discussed by me at some later point]

Many of the accounts of the tragedy at Altamont include the demonstrably false claim that Hunter can unmistakably be seen drawing a gun just before being jumped and killed by the Angels (some accounts even have Hunter firing the alleged gun). The relevant frames from the film are included here for your review. What can certainly be fairly clearly seen is the large knife being brought down into Hunter’s back. But a gun being brandished by Mr. Hunter? If you can see one, then you either have far better eyes than I, or a far more active imagination. Or both.

The Angel who was charged with the murder and then ultimately acquitted, Alan David Passaro, was found floating facedown in a reservoir in March of 1985 with $10,000 in his pocket. Despite a widespread belief to the contrary, Passaro’s acquittal was not based on the jury having been convinced that Hunter had drawn a gun, but rather on the fact that the knife wounds that killed Hunter were apparently upstrokes, which meant that they were not the wounds inflicted on-camera by Passaro. He and/or someone else continued to stab Hunter after he was down, and it was those wounds, which the cameras didn’t clearly record, that killed him.

About one year after Altamont, otherwise obscure singer/songwriter Don McLean penned the lyrics to what was destined to become one of the most iconic songs in the annals of popular music: American Pie. Those lyrics are essentially a chronological recitation of various tragedies that shaped the world of popular music. Not long after a reference to the August 1969 Manson murders and their connection to [the Strip's] music scene (Helter Skelter in a summer swelter, The birds flew off with a fallout shelter, Eight miles high and falling fast), and just before a reference to the October 1970 death of Janis Joplin (I met a girl who sang the blues, And I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away, I went down to the sacred store, Where I’d heard the music years before, but the man there said the music wouldn’t play), can be found a verse [reproduced below] in which McLean characterizes the death of Hunter as a ritualized murder.

I, of course, would never make such a wild and reckless claim. [end quoted material]

.. here, again, are those lyrics.. [as I'd posted the song's lyrics a while back]..

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in hell
Could break that Satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

Don McLean, American Pie


.. I'd mention that this "satanic" element woven in and amid the Strip, and through our contemporary culture, to a greater and greater extent.. [it seems like].. [have you gone to the movies lately?].. is something that needs some consideration at this point. In the art world, there's this laissez-faire attitude about such things... it's "camp," after all.. and the fact that so many now are choosing to be tattooed.. or are going "Goth," etc.. this is all to be taken in stride as just another life style choice. And yes, that's all well and good.. but..

Here's the thing. Speaking for myself, I'm prone to a fairly "live and let live," attitude about things, and don't come down on people's life style choices, etc. However, the research I've done over maybe the last five years, I'd say, indicates..

.. hmm.. just how do I say this?.. Well, it's the subject I've been here investigating: this notion of the Group Mind, as it were, and how it is we are being entirely manipulated, and in that sense "controlled" to the point of our servilely following, in fact, a script meant for all of our demise. [don't know how else to put it]

Again, I don't much care what people wear, or how they choose to live their lives--generally speaking, that is. [as long as no one gets hurt, as it were] So, what I'm saying here is not spawned out of some some puritanical fear-based thing. And that's what should be disturbing, in fact.. as there is disturbingly MORE than meets the eye here, and we are all, to varying degrees, a party to it.

Now, my bringing this up at all, has to do with there being a lot of gore just beneath the surface of these words I'm uttering, so that's what's spurring me onward in this. The need to--in a comprehensive and meaningful way--decode the "onslaught" of contemporary culture in order to see better the poison in our midst, since it's not always clear just what its components are.. [and yes, there is very good reason for such confusion, as well].

I'd add here too, that it seems to me a lot of people fall into the category of not wanting to "know" about certain [unpleasant] things if they then feel they can't DO anything about such things. I would address that feeling by saying that you ARE doing something merely in understanding better how it is you are being manipulated, since you are then capable of "reading" things differently, and even in subtle ways, you are responding differently, etc. So, it starts there, in the better discernment of things, I suggest.


.. Leonard.. (my love).. I miss you.

.. x..

.. (here's another version of this Cole Porter tune, and probably how I first heard it, as well).. (actually, I wouldn't put up too much of a fight if you wanted to dance with me).. (turns out).. (as long a you wore a top hat 'n tails, that is).. (I mean, a girl has her priorities, after all).. (actually, you can just wear your fedora, and double-breasted suit).. (I wouldn't complain)..

.. (by the way.. I've been remembering an image from one of your poems.. that of falling into a tulip.. I need to look that up, as it's been pleasantly haunting me.. just yesterday, in fact).. (during one of my "sanity" breaks, I guess was).. (although it's true I'm sort of crazy about you, in fact).. (my angel).. (my love).. (my fanciful tulip conjurer).. (dance with me)..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YV5e7mWc ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx x.. xxx x.. xxxxx x.. xx.. xx..

[Violet]

.. Leonard, my love.. I've just had the most miserable night. I awoke in the middle of it somewhere, and couldn't get back to sleep.

.. my brother hasn't been taking too well my moving up here. He used to call me all the time, and we've been really quite close, but he's distancing himself, it seems, and won't even come up to visit right now, either. He seems to be setting up some sort of defense inside himself, some defense against feeling anything. He did say at one point he thought I'd moved up here to get away from him, and I thought I turned him around on that.. but.. seems it's still something he's grappling with. I just hope he adjusts without.. well, I shouldn't say. I just worry about him, and I guess that plays on me. And really, when it comes to my twin, I can be.. (without having to give it much thought at all).. awash in a river of tears that just never ends. It's like this deep wound that just never heals. And somehow that got started in my mind last night, and there I was weeping again.. and into the river came all these other wounds.. the deaths I've been reading about.. the deaths of innocents, of children, even.. and now the brutal slaying of this black man at Altamont--right on camera, and STILL these brutal thugs didn't have to pay?? I mean, to have it RIGHT ON CAMERA. It's like watching a lamb to the slaughter, which I guess was McLean's impression as well.

I believe Meredith Hunter was just coming off of something that happened off screen with another Hell's Angel [this I read somewhere, only I can't find that source]. So, when we first see him in frame, he's reeling from something that's just occurred. Oh, and for anyone to say that this thug who's stabbing him is doing so in self defense.. [????]

So, as I'm doing this sort of research, I trick myself into thinking that I'm in charge, and I'm being strong, etc.. and yet, truly, one doesn't sit well with such things, and they work on you. And I cry sometimes. As well, there are all these personal wounds and traumas that get brought up too.. so it's to see the wounds of the world, and the world's most repugnant secrets.. while at the same time dealing with these more personal, inconsolable hurts.

.. but.. well.. another day has arrived, and so back to work, I guess. I miss you.

.. oh, I wanted to ask.. will you buy me an ice cream cone when finally I finish my story??

[I'm still deciding what flavor.. strawberry, maybe]

.. oh, and I wanted to say too that falling in love does not necessarily evoke that prison I think you've spoken of.. it's more like falling into a tulip. [haven't found that poem again, my love.. need to keep looking]

.. here's that little kiss.. x..

.. oh, and I find I'm quite liking this dude.. thought I'd post another number of his for you.. (though it's not Cole Porter this time)..

.. xx xx.. xx x.. xxx xx.. xxxx x..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VigOzx_8 ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

[Violet]

.. my beloved.. (I wish I were kissing you right now)

I heard from my brother yesterday, and he sounded much better, and wants to visit me soon.. so maybe he's alright, after all.

[my sigh of relief]

It's been just glorious weather lately, and rather cool for this time of year.. and the water of the lake I ride around was this deep deep blue yesterday.. and was just glistening in the sunlight. All the homes around that lake in particular.. [as opposed to the lake my house belongs to, which is a larger lake, but has no road that goes completely around it, which is why I opt for the next lake when it comes to bike riding].. but around the next lake, each house displays a rather fanciful name for the property carved into or painted on these little signs, some having pictures painted on them too.. names like "This is Happiness".. or

god, I can't believe I'm going blank, as I read them daily. And as I read them I think how it might make a nice book to have a poem, or a short story to go with each of the names.. and maybe some conjecture as to who the family is.. or just how happy a family is whose little sign reads: "This is Happiness"..

[maybe they're really and truly happy.. I mean.. who can say?]

In any event, all seems quite peaceful at that lake.. as if the troubles of the world aren't at all near.

.. speaking of..

A FEW MORE THOUGHTS ON ALTAMONT

I've been thinking about it more--this Altamont slaughter.. and I think there's another reason why the filmmakers changed the order of things for their film, Gimme Shelter. I mean, just what kind of people running the event.. [let alone the bands involved].. would think it okay to keep the concert going after a killing like that?.. I don't know when the other deaths occurred, but perhaps some of those had occurred by that time, as well. So, you--what.. just keep going, after witnessing ALL THAT??.. just get the bodies out a' there, and get on with it???.. "the show must go on" sort of thing????

.. so, the film's re-sequencing of events would also keep one from dwelling on such uncomfortable considerations as well. I guess I should watch that documentary now, though I may have seen it already at some point. Still, I hadn't quite grasped all of this 'til now.

.. actually, here's some footage I just came upon and thought I'd post, not so much in order to groove to Jefferson Airplane, but so to get a gander at those leaded pool cues the Angels were hitting people with. Notice how Grace Slick says.. [in her attempt at making sense of all that's transpiring before her].. "you need people like the Angels to keep people in line".. uhhhhhhh.. DO you need people like the Angels to keep people in line??.. [??????] It looks to me like they're the ones stirring up all the mayhem to begin with--even hitting J.A.'s OWN vocalist, Marty Balin, in the face, and knocking him out [!!].. [???????].. and, I mean, the band is being remarkably "cool" about it all.. considering..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3JvyvgPtN4
FULL SCREEN..

.. alright, well.. as I said, I'd not intended on focusing on the goings on at Altamont, and yet, it does bring together some relevant themes. It certainly is the fascist side of things revealing itself, in this our fine nation's Peace 'n Love movement.. so.. good to keep that in mind, as I continue with this little sentimental journey I'm taking. Oh, and isn't it convenient that Uncle Sam just happened to have a group of "citizen" thugs to do his dirty work FOR him??.. [he, after all, needs to keep his hands clean in all of this] [although he'd screw up royally on that count the following year at that little incident known as "Kent State".. but I'll get to that further on]

LATER NOTE: I guess I ALSO need to talk about all the FREE acid being distributed at these events.. [the results of which you can clearly see in that last sequence].. [so.. need to get to that, although I know I've at least touched on that aspect of things already]..


.. Leonard.. (my love).. how are you, by the way?.. I do hope all is just grand (as the Irish like to say)..

.. I'm being good, and.. as usual, I'm missing you.. and so sending you that gentle little kiss.. x.. (I hope it gets to you, safe and sound)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-oLmOm9vk0&playnext
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx.. xx x.. xxxx xx.. xx.. xx x x..

[Violet]

MEA CULPA

.. god, I just read my News Brief again tonight, and got such a headache, I decided that maybe I shouldn't be writing these things when I'm in less than a good mood. On my behalf, though, I'd say Rupert really did deserve it. [just saying]

.. anyway, I've removed this for now.. oh, except for my little note below..



.. Leonard, my love.. actually, I'm not too sure it's good form for me to get too romantic after all of that.. but..

.. anyway, it’s been a rough couple of days, I have to say.. and I honestly can’t afford to pine for you too too much, lest it distract me from my overarching writing mission.. (which partially involves my resisting doing any more of these news briefs).. (thought I should add)

.. anyway.. as I hope you can appreciate, it’s a rather delicate balance I’m trying to maintain.. (as I pine for you ‘neath the pines)..

Oh, I saw some property names I’d never noticed before on my bike ride yesterday. One was: “No Class”.. and the other: “Bored of Education”.. so it seems there are Daddy Longlegs on that lake as well. [given they’re such wise guys, I mean] [sorry]

.. okay, so.. I send you my little kiss.. x.. (my love).. (and maybe you can feel in that how much I've been wanting and needing you) (it actually has gotten pretty bad, and I really do need to get a grip)

.. oh, and here’s something terribly lovely to listen to.. (as we.. well, maybe we can imagine lying together in the shade of a big old tree, as we listen to this loveliness).. (my darling)

(I miss you)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OK1aFadJ ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx x.. xxxx x x.. xx x. xx..

[Violet]

.. oh, Leonard.. I awoke from this dream this morning, and what I remember was this small bird.. it was curled into itself, the way it would be if it were still in its egg shell.. its feathers were oily still, and damp seeming.. its frail head still down, its eyes closed. It was so small and new, and yet, I fear it was dead.

I'm rather beside myself this morning, and I fear the poor bird is me.

I'll be okay, but I'm sad, and crying.. and I feel so.. oh, I don't know. I feel somehow ashamed to need you, and I feel stupid that I can't seem to work things out inside myself.. but I wrote a bit of something for my story, at least. So, maybe it's through pain that I'll finish this thing.. only I worry sometimes that I'm breaking my own heart.

.. you are dear to me.. (my love).. x

[Violet]

TOO FAR NORTH OF GOTHAM.. [or possibly just a note to my beloved].. [probably]

.. Leonard, my love.. I realize I have to lighten up. I seem to have developed a fever of some sort, and am very heavy hearted.

While riding my bike these days, I keep noticing a sign that reads: Children at Play.. [which is a traffic sign, not a property sign.. though it very well might be a property sign] [given they're such a bunch of wise guys, I mean].. but one day the word 'play' rather jumped out at me. Its letters seemed all jumbled up, even.. though I guess that was just a passing impression I had.. but then I thought: no, it actually IS a sign. A sign that.. well, that maybe I need to lighten up.

.. I wanted to tell you too, that I just had another dream.. only, this time it was about you, my love.

You were at this rather large table, and there were all sorts of people around you.. some family, maybe.. some friends.. I don't really know who was there, but all was rather familiar and comfortable seeming. Then I realized I was there with you.. (since dreams are sometimes like that).. and I found I was sitting right next to you. And I realized we were meeting for the first time, only.. well, it didn't really seem as if we didn't know each other. You were being very kind to me, I don't recall what you were saying.. but almost out of nowhere we both started to kiss. It was really and truly a lovely kiss.. (we both knew that it was).. and things were getting rather passionate, even with all those people around. And so we stopped, and laughed.. and you started telling people there about me.. "Violet does this.. or Violet that".. (only you were using my other name.. except.. well, I wouldn't have minded if you used "Violet" since I rather like that name)..

I don't recall much more than that. It was such a lovely kiss, my love. And now I'm awake, feeling sick with fever.. and realizing I need to lighten up. It's gotten so muggy here too.. so, all seems so heavy because of that.

I'm almost done with the ugly side of my research, which I'm not sure I'll use, even.. most of it.. but I guess I just needed to figure out how all these strands tie together, for my own understanding of things. Of course, I like actually writing the thing, as opposed to this grisly reading I've been doing.. so, once I get back into writing, it will help lighten the load, I think. Only, right now everything just seems so dark.

OH. I keep forgetting something I wanted to mention, since maybe you're not done recording your CD yet.. it's about that version of the song you called Book of Longing.. when you first did it as a song.. (that version I’d posted the lyrics of a while back).. I just wanted to say that I thought it was kind of great, just the way you had it. I don’t know what’s to become of it, whether you'll use it or not.. but I just wanted to say how much I liked it.. even as raw a recording as it was.. and I’m glad I have it downloaded, so that even if you decide not to use it, I still have it to listen to. [just thought I'd mention]

I miss you.. and kiss you.. and hope all is well with you, my angel.. x.. (actually, I'm a bit more worried than I'm letting on.. I still fear I'm that poor little bird I dreamt about.. so.. maybe if you can spare a warm thought or two.. it might help).. (my love)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSA_4gVD ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx.. xx x.. xxx x.. xx x x.. xx..

[Violet]

.. Leonard, my love.. I'm afraid I've been a bit under the weather. Nothing serious, so hopefully it will pass. I'm not giving in to it, or anything.. still riding my bike and working, etc.. so.. it's just that I feel rather ill. Oh, and it's taking its toll on my "lighten up" initiative. It's hard to lighten up when you feel this way.

.. nevertheless.. this is Violet flower, after all.. and.. well.. so what if my head is all cloudy, and my stomach feels like it's tied in knots??.. who said things were going to be easy, anyway??

[wish they were.. a bit easier] [my love]

.. anyway, in honor of my Lighten Up initiative..

.. well.. let's see..

okay, as I rode my bike today I was thinking about this house I live in. It's one of the oldest properties on the lake. The main 1900 house.. a real "fixer-upper," as they say.. looks like the proverbial haunted house on the hill, actually.. though more clean-lined than Victorian.. [in other words, there's a great deal of work that still needs to be done to it before it would be inhabitable, but that's a tale for another day].. Meanwhile, the much smaller carriage house is.. well.. comfortably "cottagie," I guess you could say. It's where I reside at present.

Anyway, Once Upon a Time up here, there was just this house, and the neighbor--a Rockefeller, in fact. The creek that was here was damned up and made into a lake for logging. Given the lake is a ways away, one can't see it from the house.. but back then, when the trees were clear cut, you could see all the way down to the lake from this property. Actually, according to a descendant of the original owners.. [who lives in a little A-frame up the road].. the house is famous for once having had Enrico Caruso sing on its front porch (!)

.. so, I was thinking about this as I rode my bike today.. and, well, that got me thinking about Mario Lanza, actually.. who, early on, as a truck driver, trained his voice while driving his truck and singing to recordings of Enrico Caruso.. and.. well, that got me thinking about my father, who rather loved Mario Lanza, in fact.. and who

okay, as to this song I'm posting for you.. my father bought the family a used baby grand piano so that there'd be music in the house.. and, although he himself didn't play, he figured out how to play this song [I'm posting] with one finger, and he taught it to me when I was a very little girl.. so it was the first song I learned on the piano.. oh, and with one finger, too. Oh, and as he loved to sing, he'd sing this song to me--and he'd really belt it out.. (is it any wonder I'm something of a romantic??).. (my god)..

so, here goes.. oh, but first, my love.. my little kiss to you.. x.. (a bit fragile though it may be)..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoCTkWwhUKY
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx.. xx x.. xxx x.. x x.. xx x..

[Violet]

.. my love.. I’m feeling a bit better today, and am about to take a rather late bike ride, and so I’ll think of having just posted this.

.. the following is something I wrote a number of days ago now. [well, substantially, at least] I think it was last Saturday night that I wrote this, but I got to feeling all muddled about it, and so I thought I’d save it for some other time. I'd been looking over that last song of yours I posted..

[here, I'll post it again]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-oLmOm9vk0&playnext
FULL SCREEN..

.. the following are the lyrics you sang in that particular 1988 performance, as the other lyrics I found on line you’ve altered somewhat here, and some of them you omitted entirely, so I thought to look at the lyrics—just as you sang them then, in 1988.


Avalanche

I stepped into an avalanche, it covered up my soul; 

when I am not this hunchback you see, 
I sleep beneath the golden hill. 

You who wish to conquer pain, you must learn, learn to serve me well. 

You strike my side by accident, 
as you go down for your gold. 

The cripple here that you clothe and feed is neither starved nor cold;
he does not ask for your company,
 not at the centre, centre of the world.
When I am on this pedestal, you did not raise me there. 

Your laws do not compel me to kneel grotesque and bare. 

I myself am the pedestal for this ugly hump at which you stare..
and stare and stare.. and stare..
I have begun to long for you, I who have no need; 

I have begun to wait for you, I who rule the seven seas.
You say you've gone away from me, but I can feel you, feel you when you breathe.
Do not dress in those rags for me, I know you are not poor; 

don't love me quite so fiercely now when you know you are not sure.
This is your world, beloved, it is your flesh that I wear..
this is your world, beloved, it is your flesh that I wear..

San Sebastian, 1988


.. okay.. perhaps this is my little love letter to you, in my trying to fathom more some of the meanings contained in this song.

What I like about the song is that.. [well, probably like most of what you write, in fact].. but nothing about it is transparent. And while Don McLean gives us a kind of historical record of some of the goings on I’ve been writing about here on this thread, I don’t return to his American Pie number [for example], needing and wanting more of its mystery, as I do with so many of your songs. [seems obvious enough to say]

.. its sound is haunting, to be sure.. and like anyone (I would imagine) listening to this song of yours in particular, it’s hard not to be taken by the instrumental aspect. Actually, I only first heard this song maybe two or three years ago, and so it’s not a song I’ve had in my midst all that long. In fact, I’d say it still feels new, which is rather nice for me, I think. Oh, and it does seem you do an excellent job with the guitar in this number, even though you tend to disparage your own abilities sometimes in that regard.. (my love).. and, I mean, I can’t imagine this is a terribly easy number to pull off, guitar wise. Oh, and it’s so wonderfully "Spanish guitar" sounding, as well. [oh, and how perfect its sudden Spanish flourish of an ending is]

.. as to its lyrics..

I’ve tried to analyze these lyrics, and I wrote a bit already on this, but my mind keeps changing as to just how to do this, exactly.. how to place this ‘you’ you’re addressing.. or even the ‘I’ of the song.. as it all seems to shift, rather the way the mind shifts in its transient hold on things..

the ugly hump seems the cross that’s borne, or the defect in the self.. or the darkness or deformities of the world itself.

.. for the speaker to say he himself is but the pedestal for the ugly hump, is

I don’t know, the meaning keeps shifting on me.

I originally wrote it was to in that way inhabit the soul.. the soul who is not wed to his human likeness, even.. or to his defects, as they are but the carnal terms, as it were.. but now that doesn’t seem quite right.

The ‘I’ of the song seems a presence that is apart, that is not needing of us, so much as embodying some need we all have, or some truth we need confront—given all that seems aloof and uncaring as to our “personal” wants and claims. Maybe the ugly hump is the thing we cannot forget, whether we give it its due, or not.

.. as to the lover..

.. you once spoke of your always confusing women with God, I think you said.. well, it’s the lover as sacred.. the sacred beloved. I could speak of women as embodying “the other” in this patriarchal set-up we’re all consigned to, but that just sounds so, oh, “academic,” in the way that I rather dislike academia.. its co-opting of meaning through its sometimes boring and invariably predictable use of certain terminology, meant to settle minds and forge consensus. And while I own there is a place for [hopefully brilliant] academics who do good work.. [as I can’t imagine that such a phenomenon doesn’t exist] [well, I mean, somewhere, at least] [most likely].. but, I mean.. as for me.. I don’t care if I don’t settle minds.. or forge consensus.. so long as things remain alive in some way.. or.. [god forbid, from the staid academe’s perspective].. inspiring.

anyway, my love.. that’s what you remain for me: inspiring. [oh, and sexy, of course.. but that should go without saying] [oh, actually, that’s also inspiring] [now that I think about it]

anyway, continuing here..

this is your world, beloved, it is your flesh that I wear

this in one sense feels to be the soul or spirit in carnal form, and so in that way it might be addressed to God as the beloved.. and yet, it has that visceral sense of intimacy, too, that one might have with one’s lover—one’s beloved.. to wear the lover’s flesh.. even to take on the lover’s person, in a way.

.. at one point, too, I thought there might be something to be said about your invoking “doubt.” The warning in:

don’t love me quite so fiercely now when you know that you are not sure

so this ‘I’ has an omniscience to it.. one that knows of the lover’s doubt. Does he know.. just as it is his own doubt, as well?

oh, I think I know what it was that flashed across my mind concerning this doubt, only then I couldn’t pinpoint it again.. [although this might take some building up to].. Your writing does not allow itself to be romantic, I don’t think.. as that would be to suppress the truth of the thing, as it were. Doubt serves to deter the true romantic, who might well win us over with the surety of his blind faith in something—in love, perhaps.. [or the credible threat posed by windmills, maybe].. while in your lyrics and writings, doubt confirms how it is we are beholden to the self as construed, moment by moment.. those moments of lack of faith.. as well, those moments that are entirely elevated, even.

.. it’s just occurred to me that your doubt is the fortress that protects.. as there are those who would destroy the artist’s perfect renderings.. the lovers’ perfect enfolding.. and doubt wards off the enemy to such things. Doubt is to say “I know”.. and so leave me alone. I know already. Just leave me be. And in the privacy of such aloneness, there is possible such perfecting of all that needs perfecting.. [Far from the Madding Crowd, as it were].. [where in fact there is no doubt].

[I’m realizing as I’m writing this, that it’s rather circular, perhaps, what I’m doing.. and yet I believe there is a thread here, as well..

in so speaking..

I’m thinking now of a poem of yours from your Book of Longing.. that feeling you wrote of.. to be very large.. like a celestial body almost.. while in some manner making love with another such celestial body, equally large.. [I hope I’m not misreading this, as I’m needing to recall it from memory, given whenever I try to find a specific poem in that book, it seems to escape me]

[oh god.. in looking for your poem I came upon the one titled, This Isn’t China.. and I’m reading it as if for the first time, even though I know I’ve read it before.. and.. well, I’m falling for you again, my love] [again] [you crack me up, and you move me just so much.. and you make me want you so very very much] [I want to just jump on you, and kiss you over and over and over again]

[my enduring note to academes: is it wrong that I just said all that??]

.. anyway.. [in the poem I’ve not yet found].. I recall that it spoke of this “expansiveness,” which, however large, was not about merging with this other body. Instead, the two bodies remain separate in this elevated manner of love making. And as you write in the poem, this seemed maybe a joyful, positive thing.. this divine encounter that enlarges, as it were.. and yet doesn't involve "merging." But I wonder too whether this “separateness” speaks to one’s loneliness as well.. as it seems there is this desire in us to in some manner “merge” with the beloved.. with the lover.. to lose oneself in that..

you say you've gone away from me, but I can feel you, feel you when you breathe

.. in your merging the lover with God.. in that, are you not merging with the lover as well?.. becoming the spirit in wearing the lover’s flesh. God breathes through us. You breathe through the lover.

In this, you become God, in a sense. The omniscient God. The God we never escape.. even when we insist we have. You become the voice of God.

but to backtrack a bit.. [and maybe a bit more “back on earth”]..

I know I’ve read of the sort of balanced union.. [Khalil Gibran comes to mind].. where there is a space between the lovers, where there is equanimity, I guess you could say.. which would not involve such a merger of selves, it seems.. or even the desire for such. Yet, even so.. are there not moments?..

.. anyway.. I just thought I’d post this now. I know I sometimes escape all the nastiness I’m reading about in thoughts of you.. lovely thoughts.. the heaven that’s just above the hell, it seems. [within reach, maybe]

.. and, in allowing you touch me.. I find you help me, my love..

I give my love to you, my angel.. x.. (and I hope you feel this kiss on your dear face.. and on your lips)

.. (and now for that bike ride).. (and

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbLl2C3ChYY
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx x.. xxx x.. xx. xxxx.. xxx x..

[Violet]

STRI—UH, SKIPPING REHAB

Sadly, as you all no doubt have heard, Amy Winehouse has met a rather untimely demise just today in her London flat. What you may not have realized, however, is that her hit song Rehab is actually based on an old Noel Coward number..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_Rm_Yu4Bns
FULL SCREEN..

.. and.. en memorium..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JlPBfGYA8SE
FULL SCREEN..


Leonard, my love.. I don’t have much to say at the moment. I’ve been being a real trouper, and getting stuff done.. and trying to be “the best that I can be”.. [to borrow that old army slogan]. It’s really all there is to do up here, actually.

oh.. [on a little side note to ya’ll reading this]..

.. if you ever thought the old adage “Cleanliness is Closest to Godliness” to be true, you might consider the fact that.. [as per some of the research I’ve been doing].. a number of high profile serial killers actually kept immaculately clean homes. [just thought I’d mention] I mean, at the very least, one might need to reconsider just what is meant by “Godliness.”

.. of course, the reason I’m reading this grisly stuff is [once again] because my main area of concern is to determine the “synthetic” dimension of that carelessly bandied about category known as “stuff happens.” I mean, yeah, stuff happens.. but you’d be pretty surprised to learn just how and why certain stuff happens, a good portion of the time.

[I’ll be returning to that soon]


.. okay, well.. my beloved.. as usual, I’m missing you.. and thinking about you.. and wondering about you.. and

oh, I wanted to share another song by this guy. I don’t recall my father attempting this one, actually, though he might have. [knowing him]... anyway, I do think it’s kind of great that there exists a tradition whereby one can really gush like this—just let it all out, no-holds-barred type of thing.

.. oh, but first.. my little kiss to you.. x.. (my love).. I’m still a bit tuckered from my rather late bike ride.. it’s been terribly hot these days, and so I wait ‘til evening now to bicycle around that lovely lake.. (as I dream my little dream of you)..

.. I do hope all is well.. and..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8o8SZng5 ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx.. xx x.. xxx.. xx.. x.. xx x x..

[Violet]

.. my love.. I just woke up from another dream of you. We were walking along some cosmopolitan street somewhere.. New York, maybe, though I'm not sure.. only we wound up in some interior.. although, again, I'm not sure where. I was quite concerned, and was telling you about these choices I had. Should I focus this, or that?.. and as I earnestly told you of these things, you were tenderly kissing the back of my neck and my hair.. until I got to "you" as being one of the choices.. and you were interested in what I meant by that.. and all I wanted to do was to kiss you.. only, then I awoke.

I'd just been watching a fairly tedious rendition of Swann in Love.. with Jeremy Irons as Swann. Incredibly, it seems it was dubbed.. [incredibly, since.. well, his voice is half of it for me.. oh, and his wonderfully expressive face] [he should play you, my love].. but of course Swann was just so terribly awfully in love, and it was nearly killing him, and yet he knew that if he stopped his madness, he'd cease to exist. [that's how dire it had gotten]

.. so, here I am awake, when I should be asleep.. and Swann's terribly in love.. and you've been coming to me in my dreams. Only, I can't afford that "terrible" kind of love right now, or it will deter me from what I'm trying to do.. only [ironically], what I'm trying to do in part involves my being terribly in love with you.. I mean, it is a good portion of my "subject," after all. Of course, that's just fiction, and so I don't have to have any real feelings about it. [????]

Well, at least my life has acceded to the kind of dilemma posed by Proust.. [even if I haven't really delved into reading him yet] [I should, and in French.. if only I could learn French] [but quick]

.. and so.. my love.. I guess there's nothing for me to do but to try to go back to sleep. It was a lovely dream.. but if I follow the ache of it, it will do me in.. so.. I really have to try and not do that.

.. actually.. even as Swann in Love was a rather tedious film.. it was also quite beautiful, with just this wonderfully richly dense interior set design, and some rather lovely love making.. oh, and some lines taken directly from Proust.. I wish I could remember one--oh, something about how those who speak most disparagingly about friendship make the best friends. I think that in general the French can be just so full of themselves.. [which is what can make their films so tedious sometimes].. and yet, when they get it right, they deserve to be.. [full of themselves] [but only sometimes.. so, if you're French, and reading this, don't go getting all full of yourself: you're on a case by case probation]

[sigh]

.. anyway, my love.. although I'm managing to keep things from being too dire.. [at least I think I am].. nonetheless, when I try to convince myself of certain impossibilities.. [as life seems to offer quite a lot of those].. there's one impossibility that, if I convince myself of it, well, it makes me terribly sad. And so, instead of convincing myself of it, I prefer to.. well.. sort of like what Scarlett O'Hara would do.. I put it off 'til tomorrow, sort of thing. [i.e., I just don't think about it, or else that's the thing that will do me in]

[another sigh]

.. so, my angel--oh, there's a song that's been haunting me on and off, ever since I posted it. It's this one.. this rendition, I mean.. which is the song I'm hearing in my head just now.. (though your song, too, had been haunting me I noticed) (the one I'd just been writing about).. but I'll post this one again, since it's on my mind.. and I'll leave you with my little kiss, and my promise to you [and to myself, I guess] that all will be well, whatever that may mean.. x.. (my love)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qizn3YnAC0k
FULL SCREEN..


.. xx.. xx x.. xx.. x x x.. xx x..

[Violet]

.. my beloved.. I shouldn't be here right now, as I've been being good, and doing my work, etc.. but.. well.. I miss you.

.. actually, I had something funny I thought I might tell you. It was when I was having that terrible terrible time a while back. I remember it turned out to be Father's Day, actually.. [although I didn't realize that when I wrote my first post that day].. Oh, and it was also "that time of the month," I guess.. and so I was just miserable. Anyway.. [to recap what I'd already written on this].. so, I'd been watching a part of that Mount Baldy doc, and it only made me feel worse somehow, since suddenly I felt that I'd been turning things upside down for you, when obviously you went to such great lengths to have this sort of discipline in your life, etc.. and.. well, watching this thing was somehow making me feel just awful.. and I'd been crying all that day, anyway.. even before I saw this section of the documentary.. and so by then, I was thinking that all is lost.. only

okay, this is sort of a confession.

.. now, it just so happens that for some reason the filmmakers kept on photographing you in your, well.. underwear. [truth be told] And I started noticing that. I mean, gosh, I thought.. why do they keep doing that?.. I mean, there you were in your long johns.. oh, and--there you were pulling your pants up over your boxers.. and

well, I mean, here I am sobbing, and feeling like my world is somehow collapsing, and

okay, I admit it: I stopped the film, and went over this one little section of it in particular a couple of times.. but not because of anything terribly important going on, or something profound being said.. no, I was doing this so that I could.. well....... check out your package.

There. I said it. Of course, even though I had tears running down my face, I sort of had to laugh at myself, since I guess a part of me thought: HOW end-of-the-world must I really be if I actually have the wherewithal to check you out like this??? [oh, and you passed with flying colors, by the way] [not that that's my first consideration, actually] [I mean, I'd been writing some fairly explicit stuff in that regard (if you recall), and it didn't even occur to me to consider.. well.. size.. I mean, it really wasn't on my mind. I mean, I'm sure I had a mental picture of some kind as I was writing that material.. but.. well].. [just saying]

.. of course, it wasn't long after the Mount Baldy episode that I came upon the "enormous hard-on" line in that poem of yours--which actually reminds me: I failed to point out that other line you have.. in that Luckiest Man piece, actually.. you know, how it's "difficult to make love to an insect, especially if you are well endowed." [I mean, did you think I MISSED that line?] [actually, I considered bringing it up, but was exercising my "discretion"] [that is my middle name, after all.. as in "Violet D. Flowers"] [if you recall]

.. okay, so there you have it. Oh, I might as well throw this in as well. It's another property name I came upon that I hadn't noticed before.. [on my bike ride around our little lake] [yeah, it's "our" lake now].. anyway, this is the newest addition to my little Property Name collection:

Erica's Hill

[but, I mean, isn't it more of a mound, actually?]

[that was my first reaction] [then I thought.. well, there are several hills, I guess you could say] [pairs of them, if you like] [oh, and of course a mound. But, I mean, "Erica's Mound" probably lacks something as far as property names go. Oh, and the house is built on a hill, after all.. not a mound.. so]

.. okay, well.. I still miss you, but hopefully I've amused you a bit.

.. I send again my passionate little kiss.. x..

Oh, as for this youtube link.. this musician has been helping me through the tasks of my day lately.. I've been playing the "youtube mix" on him, and he's sort of helping me to keep things moving forward, somehow..

.. oh, and when this number came on today, I thought of you.. (my love) (I adore you)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OlBn0pdG ... re=related
FULL SCREEN..

.. xxx xx x.. xxxx x x.. xx x.. x x.. xxx..

[Violet]

.. my love.. I've just had the rather tragic experience of having written a fairly lengthy note to you, only accidentally erasing it.. oh, and it's late too.. and I'm heading into Gotham tomorrow, and so I plan on getting up real early.. [I'm opting for the train this time though]..

.. anyway, I shall make this short and sweet.

I just saw this very entertaining, 1935 French film--Josephine Baker in "Princess Tam Tam".. here's a scene from it. It's rather a Pygmalion story, as her character's brought back from Tunisia by two French boulevardier-writer types.. and they teach her how to be "civilized".. and have her pretend to be a princess.. only in this scene, she's just been slipped a mickey, and so.. well, the "savage" in her was bound to come out.. [it IS Josephine Baker, after all].. It's funny, a lot of the choreography in this film is real Busby Berkeley stuff.. well, except for Josephine, who [as usual] really lets loose here.. [it's a beautiful looking film, actually.. though here it's rather poor resolution, I'm afraid]..

oh, but first.. my little kiss to you.. x.. I've been working diligently.. [I'm really being terribly good, you know].. though I admit to having momentary lapses where.. well.. let's just say you're never very far from my mind.. (my love) (I miss you)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTIT9PJJAQA
FULL SCREEN..

.. actually.. here's a Bill Evans rendition, the rather sweetly plaintive refrain of which had my mind wandering today.. (my angel)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4bXwcvp_k4
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx xx.. xxx x.. xx.. xxx x..

[Violet]

.. oh, Leonard.. I’d been having a really good day yesterday.. ‘til the end of it, that is. I mean, even though it was ninety degrees and humid, I was feeling just great somehow.. [must be all the bicycling I’ve been doing] [oh, and the fact that I'd not been in the city in weeks, so I felt like a kid in a candy store].. oh, and I was wearing this [very becoming] chartreuse top, and my Kelly green shorts.. and my little mule sandals.. and I had just got my hair trimmed, and was letting it dry in the sun all curly and rather wild looking—oh, and I had my poppy-colored lipstick on.. and was sporting my smart red-leather shoulder bag.. [you can’t imagine how much stuff I can pack into that thing].. and.. well, since I was feeling just great somehow, I ate whatever I felt like eating.. [just ‘cause I wanted to].. and so I had just the best best bread, and frittata thing for breakfast.. and

.. oh, I also did some shopping, and had an organic steak dinner with a friend I don’t often see.. [yes, organic] [if you knew what I know about the meat processing industry in this country, you’d opt for organic too].. oh, and I had and this frosty “white” beer that just hit the spot.. and a great big pile of delicious pommes frites.. and I had this lovely dessert—a lightly delectable panecota, with peaches..

.. and.. well.. all eyes were on me in the restaurant as got up to use the.. okay, ittle girl’s room.. [I guess because of what I was wearing, and how great I was feeling.. oh, and my hair].. [I think I was channeling Josephine Baker, actually] [I mean, with my hair all long and wild like]

.. so, it was just one of those fairy tale feeling days, all told.

.. and when I got home last night, after having settled down a bit.. I lay on the couch to finish reading this rather disturbing book I'm using as part of my research.. [some of which I’d been reading in the city, as well].. and

anyway, it wasn't too long before I was feeling tired, and so I turned off the lamp, and got up, making my way in the darkness toward my bedroom door, when

actually, to back up a bit. At some point I'd placed this antique trunk.. [with wooden slats, and heavy-duty brass hardware on its edges and corners].. anyway, a while ago, I placed it right next to the couch, by the bedroom door, and

[okay, first..

NOTE TO SELF: work on “klutziness”]

.. anyway, I turned to head toward the bedroom door, only I HIT that heavy trunk like nobody’s business, smashing my shin into the edge of it, as it tore right through the flesh of my leg. I hit that thing so hard I was nearly SEEING STARS.. and given the pain was just so great, I thought I must have fractured a bone or something.

.. so, then.. [still in the absolute dark] [with me now down on the floor].. I commenced to drag my body across the L-shaped room to where the refrigerator is.. [I was moaning at this point, it hurt so goddamn much].. and I managed to reach up to the freezer door.. [while still remaining on the floor].. and get out this bag of ice, which I had to smash against the floor so I could break off a chunk of it, which I immediately used to rub on the wound for a good long while, until the worst of the pain subsided.. then I got back to the couch, having made an ice pack using a paper towel—only, I saw I was bleeding pretty badly at this point.

funny, though.. I'd only JUST found an old ace bandage.. [given I’m still unpacking things around here].. and I was able to use it to hold my ice pack in place, so that I could go to sleep with the wound packed in ice like that.

It was strange, though.. when I was really feeling the pain of it, as if my bone maybe had been fractured.. I.. well, somehow my mind went to all the pain and suffering I’d been reading about.. all the young men and women and children who were.. [and still are, actually].. being cut up and dismembered while still alive.. [and all the other sorts of heinous crimes being perpetrated on human beings by other human beings].. and

I don’t know, to study this stuff, you really have to dissociate a bit from what you’re reading, since it’s really too much to take in otherwise. It's just too too much to contemplate. But, when I was sitting there on the floor.. bleeding, and in excruciating pain.. it put me in touch with just how vulnerable we all are.. how permeable this flesh is.. how little control, it seems, we actually have over our lives, and these rather porous bodies of ours.. and

well, it was terribly unsettling, the whole thing. [oh, and after having just the nicest day, too]

.. by the way, I have some advice for you.. (my love).. and anyone else reading this: Tea Tree Oil. Best stuff known to man almost. After waking up early this morning, I soaked my still open wound in Tea Tree Oil.. it’s a natural disinfectant that permeates the skin deeply, and helps with inflammation, and does all sorts of other wonderful things. Since it’s an oil, it doesn’t dry out the skin either, so you can apply it to blemishes on the face, even. It's real strong, though.. and can sting quite a bit. [this is Holistic Doctor Violet speaking]

.. so, anyway, my love.. here, I am.. nursing a pretty bad, still-swollen wound on my upper shin. I’m still feeling a bit vulnerable, too. I mean, I can’t describe how much that one hurt. ["that’s gonna’ leave a mark," Chris Farley would definitely have opined] [only, I was in too much pain to be able to think about such things]

.. anyway, I've been thinking about you.. and hoping all is well. Oh, and if you DO happen to keep an antique trunk by your bedroom door, remember not to forget that it's there. That can be a very painful experience..

.. okay, well, here's my [slightly wounded feeling] little kiss to you.. x.. (my love).. (it's a glorious, breezy day.. and so I'm going to force myself to take a bike ride later).. (if my leg doesn't hurt too much, that is)..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xP-m1RSAY6k&feature=fvsr
FULL SCREEN..


.. xx.. xx x.. xxx xx.. xx x x.. xx. xxx. xx. x

[Violet]

THE STRIP ALL-OVER-AGAIN

.. okay, I need to make this brief, if I can.. [as I got other stuff I need to focus on] [later note: famous last words]

.. anyway, I’ve got some serious questions as to this Amy Winehouse business. I was going to mention this before, but it had just happened, and I thought to let the dust settle first.. see if anything illuminating might come up. Oh, it’s odd, too, that this sort of death occurred just now, as it has SO much to do with a lot of the Strip research I’d been doing. Now, I hadn’t yet gotten to “the 27 Club,” so called.. and yes, given Winehouse’s age, and the circumstances, A.W. now joins the ranks of fellow musicians Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin.. oh, and Kurt Cobain, who all died at the age of twenty-seven, presumably due to drug overdoses. Or, no, Cobain [apparently] shot himself.

.. but what becomes annoying about the cute terminology “the 27 Club”.. [which is to say: wow, that’s weird, must be fate sort-of-nonsense].. but such stoner glibness tends to mask the fact that what all these deaths also have in common is that there are questionable circumstances surrounding each death, with Winehouse’s being another case in point, it seems.

What I first noticed last Saturday when I read the news was how little was being said as to the precise cause of death. Now, given she had by all accounts a well documented substance abuse problem, one would think the cause of death would be.. well, a no-brainer. But no. This apparently was not the case, as no definitive information was disclosed in that regard.

In my initial super-duper quick search on the matter, I did glean a few interesting items on this, though. [interesting, and very odd]

Oh, actually.. I just did another quick search.. and there are some NEW items to add to the mix, making the whole mess seem even odder still.

.. oh, but first, please keep in mind:

THE IMPORTANCE OF PAYING ATTENTION TO THE VERY FIRST NEWS REPORTS ON ANY MAJOR NEWS EVENT

.. now, why would that be?.. [the inquiring reader might well ask].. well, because the FIRST news items very often give clues as to what’s REALLY going on with something—or, they at least point out the crucial holes, etc., in the overall picture BEFORE the “clean up” occurs, and the story is modified to fit whatever “news” agenda is decided upon.

[trust me on this, I’ve been looking at this crap for ages]

.. okay.. with that in mind, it seems the first information to come up concerning this singer’s death was that she had JUST gone to her doctor’s the night before and was given a clean bill of health. [?????????] I also read that she in fact DID go to rehab, and was now on the mend. Family members as well stated this to be the case, refuting "speculation" that she'd bought drugs just hours before she died. I'd add that Amy's father was due to perform in his Blue Note debut, here in New York, the very weekend of his daughter’s death.

[actually, I know nothing about the father as per this situation, other than the fact of his daughter’s fame seeming to benefit his own musical ambitions]

ALSO OF NOTE: apparently, Winehouse had spoken with her “handlers”—namely, her publicist—the morning of her death, around 10 a.m. Her publicist is quoted as saying that they had a security guard.. [the person who reportedly found the body].. in charge of looking after her. [a SECURITY GUARD??.. I mean, wouldn’t a nurse of some kind have been more appropriate??]

.. oh, and when this security guard went to check on her at 4 p.m… [uhhh.. that’s a long time to wait to check in on the person you are supposedly looking after].. anyway, by that point, rigor mortis had already set in, which I’ve read usually takes about three hours to start to take place, meaning she would have died around 1:00 p.m.. three hours after she’d spoken with her handlers. Oh, and again according to the security guard, she said she was going to sleep in that day. He also stated he had gone to “wake her up” when he found her dead.. but he disclosed no info. as to why he was waking her up at that time.

CAUSE OF DEATH BEING TREATED AS “UNEXPLAINED”

.. okay.. so, to recap:

Here you have this twenty-seven year old super-star singer/musician with a known substance abuse problem.. and yet, according to sources close to the star, she’d been turning the corner on her substance abuse problem, and had just been to her doctor the night before, and had also checked in with her handlers the morning of her death. Oh, and now.. even with an autopsy, no cause of death has been determined, and it will take weeks, apparently, before the toxicology report comes in since [didn’t you know] even with super-duper superstars.. you can’t speed up these sorts of things. [?????????]

.. now.. I don’t know about you, but I’m finding all of this quite odd. A star with a substance abuse problem who apparently was on the mend, and yet, still she suddenly dies, with no one close to such event/person claiming it was even due to substance abuse. Oh, and with the official cause of death being termed: "unexplained."

.. but, of course, I’m SURE that by the time the “toxicology” report comes in.. well.. let me put it this way.. I’m absolutely SURE that no one would tamper with a thing as sacred as blood test results. [I’m SURE of it, since things like that NEVER happen]

VOLATILE EX-HUSBAND SITUATION

.. add to this scenario, an ex-husband [Blake Fielder-Civil] who’s presently serving a 32 month sentence for armed robbery—yeah, armed robbery.. [which is a bit more heftly than the usual “substance abuse” related incarceration, I’d note].. oh, and it was claimed he was under suicide watch, since he’s that broken up about his ex’s death.. seems he claims they were “soul mates” or something.. though.. [interesting to note here].. it seems it was Amy who called things off, given he got ANOTHER woman pregnant.

.. now.. uhhhh.. let’s just say, if I were a private dick looking into this thing, I would definitely be looking into Blake’s contacts while in prison. I mean.. he’d be number one on my list of things to do, if the cause of death remained “inconclusive,” at the very least.. which itself is downright fishy.

I would note, too.. that a super-duper superstar singer, who’s very much in the public eye, and who is known to have a substance abuse problem is in danger in less than obvious ways. In this case, she is in danger since her death—no matter how vague the circumstances—will likely be PERCEIVED to be due to substance abuse, given that’s the script the public is going by. In other words: it almost doesn’t matter how strange the circumstances are surrounding her death, since it’s a foregone conclusion that her death MUST be due to this substance abuse problem. [this made her very vulnerable to wrong doing, in other words]

.. as to this Blake Fielder-Civil dude..

[okay, first: my disclaimer here is that the following is HYPOTHETICAL] [I'm ambivalent about even including this.. but.. somehow.. well, I'm including it in my "speculations," nevertheless]

.. now, I don’t know a thing about this Fielder-Civil person, other than what I’ve just disclosed here. However, he could have reason to do his ex harm [sorry to say] [I mean, if I keep my private dick hat on a minute].. which would mean one of two things [in my opinion]: either he’d be working all on his lonesome.. OR.. [and this is the scenario I’d be more prone to contemplate].. his personal reasons for wanting to do her harm might well have been utilized by OTHER PARTIES who have stuff on him.. [and who have their own reasons for wanting to do her in]. I mean, he IS in prison, after all.. and is subject to the requirements of parole, at the very least.. oh, and prison’s also a dangerous place, all told.. and, well.. yeah, “stuff happens” there.. so.. he is definitely vulnerable, in that respect.. and so there’s room here to look into his possible involvement.

[then again, he may not be involved at all, in which case: sorry dude] [just speculating]

But WHO.. [you may well be asking] [as concerns “other parties,” I mean].. [whether they made use of Blake or not].. would want this super-duper superstar dead?.. and for what reason??

.. and THAT.. [ladies and gentleman].. takes us back to those halcyon days on the Sunset Strip, starting in the mid-sixties.. yes, it takes us back to everything I’ve been poking my nose into as concerns the “synthetic” dimension of that—yes [I know I’ve said this before] much bandied about category known as “stuff happens”.. [which I happened to have just used, in fact.. though hopefully you picked up on my tongue-in-cheekiness]

.. anyway, this is the subject that I’ll be returning to.

but for now.. OH. WAIT.. I forgot.. I just did another quickie search AND WOULDN’T YOU KNOW IT:

suddenly it looks like Amy’s death WAS drugs, after all.. I mean, it was BOUND to come up eventually.. I mean, that IS what we all [initially] were thinking anyway.. right??

.. on a site called DirtySouthHipHop.com.. [whatever THAT is].. there’s THIS item..

Sources are now reporting that in addition to being on an alcohol binge, Winehouse may have died taking a bad ecstasy pill.



Other British tabloids have reported that Amy Winehouse was seen purchasing a number of drugs the night before her death.

[I'd note how it seems like this case is deemed worthy of investigation ONLY by the tabloids] [historically, the most reliable of sources]

.. okay.. as is usual with internet reporting, there are no references.. [though, given the tabloid mention, it does look like Rupert is involved].. okay, so.. now it seems that the young woman who was reportedly on the mend, and even had a doctor’s visit the night before her death.. well, it seems her sobriety may not be the case, after all. Actually, where did this "alcohol binge" suddenly come from, by the way??.. [seems we're supposed to know about that already] [or maybe we're to glean that from her hit song, Rehab] [yeah, that must be it]

.. anyway.. it might well be that Amy Winehouse's death WAS in fact a drug and alcohol situation. Still, why the cover-up by those close to her, then? What could they possibly be protecting, given she was a known addict??.. oh, unless she actually was on the mend, in which case..

.. in any event, I am always interested to see the way a story—the initial version of which alleges one thing.. [and here it seems to contradict what we all first thought concerning this person, as per her substance abuse problem]—but I find it interesting how.. given a little time, and some bogus [internet] spin stuff.. how the conclusion to such story will invariably put to rest any doubts we might initially have had, so that we can all go home satisfied that [in this case] yet ANOTHER super-duper superstar with a substance abuse problem BIT THE DUST [and for "obvious" reasons] at the untimely and even “spooky” age of twenty-seven.

.. oh, a number which [apparently] has a lot of satanic culty bull-crap associated with it.. which.. .. actually goes to motive, since

.. okay, well.. ON the matter of this “satanic culty bull-crap”:

.. although I am a reluctant researcher in this vein, I have had to conclude that the world’s power structure does its unseemly business utilizing not just organized crime, for example.. [which I think we can all easily fathom at this point] [especially since it’s hard at this point in time to distinguish politics from out-and-out criminality].. but it also seems significant to add to this equation this occult or “satanic” dimension to the underworld side of things.

.. actually, one reason I’m reluctant to even broach this topic is the fact that there is misinformation galore on this sort of stuff out on the net.. [oh, and really tacky, sensationalistic stuff, too].. so much so, that it seems designed to turn the more reasonable, less gullible readership off as to the significance of such phenomenon. And yet, I’ve read enough legitimate material now to realize that it’s a rather crucial aspect to get a handle on, if one is to get a complete picture as to just how it is we are being manipulated, and just how dire [and gruesome, at times] are the stakes.

.. okay, over and out, for now, on all this. Oh, but first.. this is a later rendition of this number.. [when she was looking more the part, you could say]..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKHDOTiPgvI&feature=fvsr
FULL SCREEN..


.. Leonard.. (my love).. my leg is still on the mend.. it still hurts, actually.. but.. well, I’ve been bicycling undeterred.. so.. just how bad could it be??

[oh, by the way, I came upon this particular property name, which I thought rather sweet: Camp Lemonade]

.. anyway, I miss you, and send you my little kiss.. x..

oh, and.. I wanted to find Sarah doing this number, as it’s another of my favorites of hers from my childhood.. but the only Sarah version of this on youtube is rather messed with.. so here’s Billie Holiday’s version.. (oh, and.. well, except for the “off key” lyric—as I honestly don’t recall you ever singing off key—anyway, that aside, this really does put me in mind of you).. (my love)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehMx12dSF6w&NR=1
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx.. xx x x. xx x.. xx x.. xx x..

later edit: actually, I had "early sixties," for the inception of the Strip time period, when that would more accurately be the mid-sixties. [just thought I'd make note]

[Violet]

.. my beloved.. I really really miss you today. I don't know why some days are harder than others, in this respect.. but.. anyway, today I'm.. well.. needing you. [pretty badly]

.. it's a gorgeous day up here, breezy, and not too hot. And it was so nice riding my bike beneath the trees. The lake was a deep grey, and choppy looking, with all the wind having at it.

.. anyway, I can't stay writing here long, as I need to get back to things. I'm hoping I'll be posting the material I really want to be posting soon. [hopefully]

.. my leg is healing. Oh. Okay, I really do have to work on this "klutziness" thing. I got up in the middle of the night last night, and wouldn't you know it.. [again in the pitch dark].. I bumped into a chair that was in the middle of the room [where it shouldn't have been].. and yes, it was the same leg, only my knee this time, and.. well, it wasn't nearly as bad or anything. Not even close. But, still.. I mean--what the???.. [one little ice cube took care of it] [oh, and thank GOD I didn't hit my wound!!]

.. well, my perfect perfect beloved.. I need to g--

oh, let me see if I can remember any good property names.. hmm.. nothing that's really grabbing me.. Oh: the White House. [only the house isn't even white] [some real jokers, I guess] [with a real high debt ceiling, no doubt]

[sound effect: oh.. I don't know.. I'm thinking maybe just one of those noise makers little kids have at their parties.. you know, the kind you blow on, and this paper tongue looking thing rolls out rather anticlimactically?] [best I could do for that]

.. okay.. my love. I miss you.. (terribly).. and send again my little kiss.. x

.. oh, and this I thought rather lovely to listen to today, actually..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rM2KjStdIhs
FULL SCREEN..

.. xx.. xx x.. xxx x x.. xx.. xxx x..