Free Keene » Richard Onley

To Those Who Know Who They Are

Richard Onley — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 18:59:45 +0000

I’m always just on the verge of posting these points–but it sounds so much better when you sing it!

AT LAST WE SEE THE ERROR OF OUR WAYS

I’ve seen you in the website’s COMMENTS section
Masked with an anonymous facade
Deriding what you paint as my rejection
Of Mom and flag and apple pie and God.

No sense of truth or justice can divert you–
You have none, and it’s really rather sad.
Just paint yourself the soul of mind and virtue,
And those who disagree with you as bad.

And in your mind:
The world exults in wonder at your penchant
To mystify, astonish and amaze!
With insight and analysis so trenchant,
At last we see the error of our ways!
Riiight!

You show a decent grasp of a mythology
Molded by your brute characteristic,
And venture toward the border of pathology
Asserting your beliefs are “realistic.”

It’s the standard status quoser’s fragile tissue
Of accusations, slurs, and outright lies
That he uses when he can’t address the issue
And has motives that he’d best deemphasize.

And in your mind:
The world exults in wonder at your penchant
To mystify, astonish and amaze!
With insight and analysis so trenchant
At last we see the error of our ways!
Riiight!

Your misconception, jealously maintained so long,
Will fade and wither once exposed to light:
Refusing to admit to ever being wrong
Is not the same as always being right.

The categoric sidestep with “reality”
Is used as you’re convinced it justifies
Resorting to the mindless raw brutality
That constitutes importance in your eyes.

Beyond your rage, self-doubt, and paranoia,
Exists a real reality, more true.
Accept it, clear your head, and you’ll enjoy a
Rapport with us that’s closer than you knew.

And when you find it:
The world will thrive when free folk, freely living,
Can nurse the hopeful dream the State betrays.
When you behold the bounty freedom’s giving,
At last you’ll see the error of your ways!
Yaaay!

What’s the Peace of an Evolution Without General Cop-ulation . . .

Richard Onley — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 21:18:59 +0000

Big Mike’s arrest — and the cowardly conceit of the cop responsible — have provided a wealth of inspiration, in activist ideas, protest techniques, and, but of course, artistic endeavors. In that last category, I submit the following:

There’s no real melody for this piece. It mimics the style popularized on many a decoupaged plaque from roadside boutiques specializing in cheap gimcracks (I can provide a number of Plan 9 from Outer Space – level-quality examples discovered in the course of my research).:

A POLICEMAN’S PRAYER

LORD, when I don the badge and blue,
Make strong my heart to keep
My goal to ever be like You–
In charge of all the sheep.

With Thy tough oversight, ensure,
When I confront the mob,
What matters most is kept secure:
My ego and my job.

Guide my imagination
So citizens will not
See through some regulation
I’ve made up on the spot.

If I should take a life, O Lord,
Grant full exoneration.
Add to my life the rich reward
Of two weeks’ paid vacation.

When I’m in court, Lord, keep the eyes
Of judge and jurors closed,
So even my most bald-faced lies
Will never be exposed.

Guide, too, the men who make the laws
Each time they meet in session,
That there will always be just cause
For my acts of aggression.

Keep the populace so dumb
That they’ll always agree
They must have my protection from
A greater threat than me.

Exact upon them, from above,
Thy judgment most severe.
I don’t need their respect or love,
But please ensure their fear.

With a little syllabic Tetris, this one can be sung to the alphabet ditty. You may get a chance to hear it sung soon on Lauren’s podcast:

YOU HAVE THE RIGHT

Inevitably, when a cop
Accosts you at a routine stop,
Some little tips that you can sing
Can keep the worst from happening.

A camera’s easy to afford;
You see blue lights, you hit RECORD.
Memorize, for later blame,
His badge’s number, and his name.

Make no statements; be evasive–
Court’s the place to be persuasive.
Phrase your answers like they’re questions;
Don’t react to rude suggestions.

Stay calm. Be polite.
Don’t argue, even though you’re right.
Anything you say or do
Can serve in court to railroad you.

Don’t touch a cop, he’ll cry “Assault!”
And courts will find that you’re at fault.
Likewise, never turn and run
That’s his excuse to use his gun.

Like the crook he thinks you are,
He’ll ask to search you, or your car.
Refuse. He’ll badger. Don’t relent.
By law, he still needs your consent.

Repeat two questions in a row–
Am I: Being detained? or Free to go?
Don’t resist him, just obey.
Demand a lawyer right away.

Despite your teaching, in the end,
Mister Cop is not your friend.
Think it’s unfair? Please arrange
To help Free Staters work for change.

The Offendeder You Are, the Applicabler It Is!

Richard Onley — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 03:13:16 +0000

THIS ORGANIZATION IS IN DISORGANIZATION
COPYRIGHT 2010 by Sam A. Robrin or whoever the hell it is who writes these things. Go ahead and use it, but if you make a little money on it, I want some!

Free State freedom activists look pompously askance
At anyone suggesting planning projects in advance.
Protests limp along not with a bang, but with the whimp’r of
A group of high school kids making impromptu tries at improv.

Headaches, itching, nosebleeds, palpitations, sweats, and trembling
Are side effects of any course of action but assembling
Slapdashedly together at the last remaining minute.
It’s messy, muddled madness with no trace of method in it.

Many activists are known to faint or throw up
At the proffer of polite entreaties to show up.
One fact’s irrefutable from careful observation:
This organization is in disorganization!

Freedom-lovers focus on life’s joys and how to get them –
Not in crafting tactics to persuade the State to let them.
Dealing with the State’s inane — sane folks don’t manage well with it,
The rational reaction is to simply say the hell with it.

Running through the Project is a much-debated schism:
Can cooperation coexist with individualism?
The proof of all this putting-down is evidenced in that all
Our goals are not achieved efficiently — if at all.

“Organized” has earned itself a blot over time –
Look at organized religion, labor, or crime.
Regardless of the word’s haphazard application,
This organization is in disorganization!

When the planning procedure proves positively to be a little rickety,
The slightest critique or suggestion is perceived as too persnickety.
No matter the merit or clear intent, the speaker’s dunned for an apology
For willfully trying to force on the group such an outlandish methodology.

The attitude here is that activism’s entirely up to you:
Do it yourself — including the stuff we told you we would do.
When unrehearsed events go Flop!, we say, “Oh what a shame,”
And slam the organizer with a metric ton of blame.

IRS, NSA, FBI, CIA,
FCC, BATF, and USDA,
DHS, EPA, DEA, DOE,
DOD or -J or -E or -L, -S, -I, -C,

OSHA, FEMA, NASA, HUD, the FDIC,
FTC, SEC, TSA, DMV,
Bureaus, agencies, police departments, and courts –
The competition has organization, of sorts!

As that (very small) sampling above indicates,
Our planning doesn’t measure up to that of the State’s.
One thing we must clean up before we sweep the nation:
The disorganization that’s in this organization!

Those who want to prove me wrong will have a terrific chance to do so this weekend. I’ll be very disappointed if they don’t disappoint me!

Sing That Freedom Song!

Richard Onley — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 18:46:14 +0000

SING THAT FREEDOM SONG!

To convey our message to the population,
Oftentimes complex ideas take too long.
The news will air some puzzling truncation.
Say it briefly and with beauty in a song!

TV soundbytes are perceived as so much blather,
And will be reacted to dismissively.
The viewers of the nightly news would rather
Absorb new thoughts with rhyme and melody.

We can faintly hear the chimes of freedom ringing
While establishing our frisky form of order,
But if we don’t find our voice and get to singing,
This project won’t project beyond the border.

Shouting vicious insults, making threats, and ranting
Won’t reflect repute as reasoned paragons.
Neither will the weak resort to mindless chanting
Like obsequious tea-party neocons.

There’s a way to show ourselves and those around us
That the violence behind the State is wrong:
If we stand steadfast and staunchly as cops pound us,
We’ll promote our peaceful protest with a song.

When our heads are bashed and tear-gassed eyes are stinging,
And we’re cuffed and being led away to jail,
If we don’t find our voice and get to singing,
This effort gets an “F” for total fail.

Prior movements set a firm example for us:
Every one that lasted had its balladeers.
Voices still combine to rise in soaring chorus
Of songs immortalized throughout the years.

We can silently continue our exertion
To form the free world where we all belong,
But to fully write “FINIS” to State coercion,
Better find and formulate our freedom song!

There’s a heavy haul of heart and hope we’re bringing,
To ideas we, bizarrely, still must prove–
But if we don’t find our voice and get to singing,
This movement isn’t ever going to move.

Anyone who agrees is enthusiastically invited to get in touch to participate in a project to make lots of liberty music! Whether you compose, play, sing, know sound engineering or videography, or just like to listen and think you know enough to contribute ideas, we want to hear from you to help quell the above-expressed admonishments that so toemented me, they had to come gushing out as a song! (A song without a melody, as yet–any composers want to give it a try?)
Contact me on the forum, and join the band!

A Commercial for Liberty

Richard Onley — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 15:18:45 +0000

I know my own experience was shared by at least one other mover in this movement, and that was what gave me the idea for the song “Choices,” which I’ve posted elsewhere. While helping that same person move this weekend, I was surprised how prophetic the song I’d written earlier that week proved to be, particularly in the sixth verse. The title popped into my mind — one of those slight variants on a familiar phrase that appeals to the inner (and my case, overly outer) paronomastic, and it seemed like a good topic for what I call “commercials for liberty.”

I GAVE MY LIFE TO LIBERTY AND HAPPINESS PURSUED

I held a near monopoly on freedom ideology.
Lonely and reclusive nights were warping my psychology.
Discussing my ideas with the hometown population
Earned me reactions ranging from bewildered to abusive;
A few sincere discussions gained me quite a reputation.
At work I kept my mouth shut and grew ever more reclusive.
My life was one dull cycle of work, shelter, clothing, food.
Frustrated with my anomie, I’d sit at home and brood.

I scrutinized my memories and parsed my own emotions:
The standard value-inculcation in the home and school
Made me a proud American, and grateful to be here.
As life went on, that patriotic pride beneath their rule
Seemed more like blind obeisance, reinforced with threats and fear.
Public “servants” — all! — are arrogant, dishonest, rude.
The State’s brand of “protection” is irrevocably skewed.

I’m haunted by the specter of the government, it seems,
All day, each day, from wake to sleep–and often, in my dreams!
Unknown — unknowable — restrictions stifle honest trade.
Courts are now casinos . . . with deceitful croupiers.
Police, not crooks they never catch, make citizens afraid.
War — on drugs or Muslims — furnishes excuse to raise
The cost to fund my own demise. What else could I conclude?
A life lived under government will only get you screwed.

I hoped I could avoid their ills (at least the most excessive).
My conscience, though, would bother me if life grew more oppressive.
The caveats of history point out the blatant error
Of those who turned their backs on tyranny, and ran and hid.
To stop a future ten times worse, I overcame my terror
And tried to force some changes, just to one day say I did.
I acted, using action to elevate my mood –
I gave my life to liberty, and happiness ensued.

Simply taking action won’t suffice — though it’s a start.
Working hard is not enough, if you’re not working smart.
I boosted liberty ideas on the hometown front.
The locals didn’t do so much as toss me out a bone.
I figured, when my efforts were dismissed as just a stunt,
I might as well do nothing as continue on alone.
Then I looked to New Hampshire, where activism brewed.
I gave my life to liberty, and happiness pursued.

You’re provided proper rite of passage right away: to prove
Your loyalty to liberty, you have to make a move.
You’ll have the help you need, and more — and all for beer and pizza.
Within about an hour, you’ll feel valued, safe and free.
Best of all is, every just-arrived new mover meets a
Wide array of confreres who soon feel like family.
From my own experience — advice that you can use:
Give your life to liberty, and happiness pursues.

Your solo’s soon accompanied by new concordant voices;
Where once you wondered what to do, you now are swamped with choices.
You find and build your special place on freedom’s new frontiers.
Chart exponential growth in innovations you conceive,
And put them into practice with your activist compeers
With whom you do; with whom you’d die; with whom you can achieve
The fully realized potential that defines success.
Give me life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness!

I’m sure that in this audience are lots of other hermits
As sick of cops, courts, judges, taxes, regulations, permits.
A few are on the borderline, unready to concede
That what the State does for them isn’t worth what it does to them.
The price will soon outdistance what they misperceive as need –
Try getting back what you’ve put in! (It sure won’t work to sue them.)
For those who give to government, receiving less and less:
Give your life to liberty in the pursuit of happiness!

And if any musicians care to try writing a melody to this off-the-beaten-path rhyme scheme (which this particular computer program doesn’t allow me to properly indent for best effect), get in touch!

Now Is the Time for All Good Porcs to Come to the Aid of Their Brethren

Richard Onley — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 21:25:00 +0000

As the court is clearly not going to do the right thing with Kurt, it’s become necessary to ratchet up our protestation to a new level. There are now daily candlelight vigils, as announced on the forums within, and it’s time to let the general citizenry — the folks who really matter in all this — know that options are available to them. We need to start getting down to the court each morning, as the crowds are arriving to be processed through the obedience machine, to tell them, with signs, songs, flyers, and discussion, that this could happen to any one of us, and will, if we don’t start pushing back!
I have plenty of appropriate signs, and anyone may come over to paint a personal one — just contact me. I’m also working on an outreach flyer with an artist. I’d like to hear from anyone else who has other suggestions for making this a success.

One of the problems with these events is the silence — often broken and filled with patter, chatter and inappropriate laughter. Attempts are often made to pack it with chanting, but — especially to the liberty-loving — that sounds mindlessly ovine.
A better approach, it seems, would be music — and history backs up that assertion: No major movement in American history has caught on without songs. I fondly remember singing along with “Fixin’ to Die Rag” and “Give Peace a Chance” during the Vietnam War years; I can also recall loving the ubiquitous call-and-response songs like “Kill for Peace” and the indispensable “We Shall Overcome” (We’ll ignore “Kum-Ba-Yah” for this discussion . . .).
The flexible nature of that form allows the song to be tailored to a particular situation, and can galvanize a group into constructive action far better than chanting or random prattle. In a tense situation, confidence can easily begin to falter; I saw first-hand how a single voice beginning to sing “We Shall Overcome,” and getting a chorus going, could reassure every single person in that crowd that overcoming really was inevitable. When another voice called out, “We are not afraid!,” and we began to sing along, we almost magically became unafraid. When it got to “We shall not be moved” — we weren’t. That contribution to the success of the civil rights movement was instrumental (no pun intended . . .).
The Twenty-first Century liberty movement is sorely in need of a similar anthem! And with that in mind, I wrote something to submit that might do until a good one comes along . . .:

SOMEDAY, SOMEDAY SOON

Freedom, someday, someday soon!
Freedom, someday, someday soon!
And we’ll work for all we’re worth for liberty.
As we know tomorrow’s sun will rise,
We see, with hearts, as well as eyes,
That someday, someday soon, we will be free.

Click here to listen to the melody. I sang it alone last night, and it didn’t sound too bad to me — but then, as H. L. Mencken pointed out, a man always believes that his wife is pretty and his children are intelligent . . .

Any seven-syllable phrase with alternating stresses will serve for the first two lines, and virtually anyone can think up something like that, even under the spontaneous pressure of a crowd situation. Some examples:

We are not afraid of you
Jail will only strengthen us
We will break the chains you forge
All your laws are paper threats
You can never jail our souls
We will never bow to you
In your power, you are weak
We do not belong to you
We forgive you for your crimes
Cage us, still our souls will soar
Drop your guns and join with us
Your corruption cannot last
You can change your evil ways
We can see right through your lies
Truth is light that frightens you
Cam’ras show the truth you hide
We are not your property
Your corruption is exposed
Did you get your stories straight?
You can’t legislate at will
Yes, we will Live Free or Die

And, just for the moment:

We’ll do this till Kurt is free!
Kurt will walk and see again!

If we can start to make our point, emphatically but peaceably, that we’re not going to take it anymore, and neither does anyone else have to, we’ll be on our way to a freer, safer environment in the town we love so much.
So be at the courthouse on Monday, November 23, at — sorry about that — 7:30 A.M. There’ll be signs, flyers to hand out, and now we have a song to sing (we can practice while you’re over painting that sign, if you like). Protesting is not my favorite activity, I must admit, and 7:30 is certainly not my favorite time of the morning — but I keep asking myself: If I don’t do this for Kurt, who’ll do it for me, if I end up in the same position?

A Cautionary Tale

Richard Onley — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 01:03:51 +0000

I always had a soft spot for story songs — too much of one, perhaps. I even quite liked “Tie a Yellow Ribbon,” until overplay and dubious associations ruined it permanently.
It was inevitable that I’d try writing some of my own. And since it’ll convey more verisimilitude if you write what you know, I adapted current events to a little cautionary tale:

NO TIME

I was at the rifle range with a brand-new gun
When someone in the party got a PORC411:
A pot bust at a random routine traffic stop
With extra charges really being stacked on top.
We talked about a protest for our friend’s arrest,
But I was just about to overtake my personal best.
To storm the jail and wave some signs would be okay,
But you can see, there really wasn’t time that day.

Good time, good time, good time, good time . . .

So many activist events, it makes me dizzy–
I can’t do all or most or very many.
In fact, my life is usually so damn busy,
That weeks and weeks go by without my doing any.

I’d meant to come and watch proceedings at the court,
To show the judge my pal had plenty of support.
But things don’t always happen quite the way you’d planned –
Some friends got tickets for a hot new Boston band.
I remembered the trial miles down the road.
It would have been a great trip if the band had showed.
You never know what new surprises fate will bring;
Too bad there isn’t time enough for everything.

No time, no time, no time, no time . . .

“You never write,” my friends would nag, “You never visit.”
They’re right, and I kept meaning to get to it.
It’s not like days have forty hours in ‘em, is it?
But who needs me, when everybody else will do it?

It was one of those debauched and drunken doped-up nights.
I was cruising down the highway and I saw blue lights.
To make a long story short, they took me to the jail,
But no one came to see me or to post my bail.
The court-appointed lawyer pushed the trial through
It would have been nice to see a friend or two.
I must’ve seemed a drifting loner with a thirst for crime,
So now I’m in the local slammer serving time.

Do time, do time, do time, do time . . .

My friends’ desertion really had me getting
Angry, but my conscience said, “Ahem–
No one’s to blame but you if you’re regretting
That when they needed you, you weren’t there for them.”

My friend was on a hunger strike and hadn’t eaten,
And died in the infirmary from being beaten.
I’m more alone than ever, but on visiting day,
No one seems to want to bother to come out this way.
I send a lot of letters, but response is thin.
I’m getting back about as much as I’d put in.
My life’s completely turned around, I’m here to tell:
(slowly) I’ve got nothing but a lot of time inside this cell.

Time, time, time, time, time, time, time, time . . .

If there are any melody-makers who want to try setting it to music, please get in touch. My own inner ear hears a sing-song chant somewhat similar to “Dead Man’s Curve.”
. . . And if anyone sees a little of himself in this song– Well, that’s the reason for writing them!

Commemorating All Our Heroes

Richard Onley — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 14:11:57 +0000

I wanted to express admiration for someone who wasn’t getting as much as she deserved. I’d been reminded of Dorothy Parker’s poem “Penelope”:

In the pathway of the sun,
In the footsteps of the breeze,
Where the world and sky are one,
He shall ride the silver seas,
He shall cut the glittering wave.
I shall sit at home, and rock;
Rise, to heed a neighbor’s knock;
Brew my tea, and snip my thread;
Bleach the linen for my bed.
They will call him brave.

But the emphasis there is on Odysseus’s explorations, more than his devotion to his cause (however misguided or violent that approach).
Then I asked myself (being slow sometimes), what kind of versifier am I if I can’t write one for her myself? So I did:

SO IS SHE (AUBERN’S SONG)

He took a stand against the State–
It could be said he lost.
Prison’s torment, filth, and hate
Are what his actions cost.

Unbested, they can only hold
His body, not his mind.
But proud or not, he bears the cold
Without the loving lady left behind . . .

She starts the coffee when she wakes–
Half what she routinely makes–
Sits opposite the strangely empty chair.
Sighing as her breakfast warms,
She studies reams of legal forms,
Absorbing not a word without him there.

The puppy whines and licks her hand.
No way to make him understand:
“Why isn’t Poppa here to play with me?”
That’s the worst ordeal of all.
She tries to smile, she throws their ball.
He’s chasing pale diversions–so is she.

She works, and finds some small distraction
In the automatic action
Basic to a day-to-day career.
And sad reflection almost flees
With activist activities
To forge the liberty they both hold dear.

She stokes the furnace, mows the lawn,
And pays the bills, just struggles on
To maintain the facade of normalcy.
She shops and cooks and eats and cleans–
Those dull, mechanical routines–
The world’s proceeding onward, so is she.

Compatriots and friends of his
Come visiting and asking, “Is
There anything at all that I can do?”
They mean well, yes, but no one can
Bring home that much-missed, needed man
To have and hold, and help her see life through.

The high profile that he raised
Is publicized and loudly praised
By radio, newspapers, and TV.
Tombed within a living grave,
The crowds esteem and deem him brave,
But no one seems to notice, so is she.
Nobody seems to notice, so is she.

And while I named it for the person who directly inspired it, it’s dedicated to so many other people who’ve been in the same position, or know that someday, they might well be. They know who they are, and I thank them all.

Sing a Song of Freedom

Richard Onley — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 13:14:16 +0000

When I decided to make the move to New Hampshire, I still wasn’t sure what form my activism was gong to take. I was certain only that I had to do something, or live with the consequence of knowing that I’d made no effort to push back the incursions of the State–forever tormenting myself with wondering whether some simple action of mine might have made the crucial difference.
I’ve always been linguistically oriented. I make my living proofreading and copy-editing, and my mind is always whirring with wordplay that would make a cryptic crossword puzzle comparatively comprehensible. It seemed that I could channel that ability into something useful to the liberty movement.
Shortly before embarkation, I began writing down some of the songs I’d always playfully composed in my own mind, solely for my own amusement. I found it as enjoyable a pastime as any I’ve ever engaged in–yes, ranking right up there with certain other procreative acts . . .
A few days after arriving in Keene, brain still a-buzz with all the people I was meeting and the options to explore, I woke up early to get to a trial. My conscious mind, reluctant to relinquish the soothing swaddle of somnolence, gently urged, Time to get active, activist!
The admonishment stuck with me all morning long, and by the next day, I’d composed this ditty to sing to myself when I’d rather lie abed a little longer:

ACHTUNG! (ACTIVIST ACTIVATOR)
A Musical Motivator for the Movement
COPYRIGHT 2009 by Sam A. Robrin or whoever the hell it is who writes these things. Go ahead and use it, but if you make a little money on it, I want some!

You’ve gotta get active, activist–
You’ve gotta get out and act!
Your co-agitators are probably pissed
Observing the pep that you’ve lacked.

There’re tasks to be started and goals to set;
They aren’t gonna happen themselves!
No real-world accomplishment ever gets met
By the shoemaker’s magical elves . . .

You’ve gotta get moving, movement maven–
You’ve gotta get on the move!
If you see something you think’s needin’ savin’,
Well, jump right on into the groove!

There are signs to be painted, and letters to write.
Gotta edit those videos.
When you can swing it, the time’s always right
To tread on some bureaucrat’s toes.

You’ve gotta get going, go-getter–
You’ve gotta get up and go!
Don’t kid yourself, you should know better
Than to amble so ploddingly slow.

You have flyers to put up and e-mails to post
And a fund-raising party to plan.
If you believe liberty matters the most,
Then pitch in wherever you can.

Gotta get going, Ghost in the Machine,
Gotta go haunt the streets.
Stand up and show ‘em you say what you mean.
Startle them out of their seats.

There isn’t a minute to slack off or sleep–
Each day has to count toward advance.
Americans languish in trouble so deep–
Go give ‘em a kick in the pants!

I was reasonably happy with the lyric (though if I”d written it yesterday, I probably wouldn’t have rhymed “go-getter” with “know better” now that I , uh, know better . . .). Not so much with the melody I was using, which was somewhat too close to Chuck Berry’s little-known “Anthony Boy”–but that’s the way I heard it in my mind.
I soon discovered something about the creative process: Ideas are everywhere–the trick is to learn to recognize them as ideas. Now I frequently step out of the shower or dismount from my bicycle with two or three usable springboards for songs.
And does the liberty movement ever need songs! They’re an indispensable part of any major historical upheaval. As the American Revolution had “Yankee Doodle,” the Civil War had “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” and “When Johnny Comes Marching Home,” as the civil rights movement had “We Shall Overcome” and “Blowin’ in the Wind,” and the 1960s anti-war faction had “Fixin’ to Die Rag” and “Give Peace a Chance,” this here peaceful evolution revolution needs its own soundtrack. Aside from a few Rush albums, I don’t hear much of a one.
As the song says, when you see something that needs doing, it’s up to you to do it. But it’s best to be able to recognize one’s own strengths and shortcomings. I can contribute lyrics, but don’t have much of a gift for musicianship: I mean, when your singing is criticized by the guy known for intoning “Ridley Report-dot-com / Something that rhymes with ‘com,’ ” you know there’s a problem! Likewise, I can come up with a sing-songy sort of melody, but it’s frequently lacking in originality, or outright derivative. So I’m hoping to use this space to find other talents who can help liberty to lift up its voice and sing. I don’t know of anything else more worthy of singing about!