shadrach meshach and abednigo...

Coromandel town

woke up this morning to a beautiful day.
put the media player on and listened to the far side banks of Jordan on repeat.
and the fourth man.
love johnny cash.
yesterday was horrible.
bleak wet and generally grim.
all day inside watching movies that bored me shitless.
Where the BUffalo roam.
Buffalo Bill and the Indians.
and reading Bob Dylan in America.
reflecting on old age and limits.
Poor Phil Ochs.
He BELIEVED.
It drove him mad in the end.
He could not disengage.
damm.

Limits on the environment.
good piece on RNZ this morning about Fish and Game and their contretemps with the minister for the environment.
NOte minister for the environment.
NOt just Nick Smith.
Good.
He aint the gubmint.
just a functionary.
It is not his personal decison about anything.
and good on Fish and Game for taking it to him.
If you just pick on him then it will slide off like water on the ducks back.
It is the whole government that is responsible.
It seems like the environment is going to be one of the big issues this election.

You cant keep pumping cowshit into the environment and expect natural forces to clean the mess up.
the only pristine thing  around here are the cars in the used car lot.
yeah right.
even federated farmers can see that.

It seems like the environment is going to be one of the big issues this election.
wail boil thinks he is on control.
nah.
waht a jerk saying that all politicians are in his thrall.
not so big boy.
you dont know nothing.
government is more than some popularity contest decided by a fat arsed blogerr and his tweeters.

It used to be that elections were decided by the wise men who constituted the returning oficers club but now that MMP is firmly embedded then  like it or not it is the MSM.
i.e. TV1.
they have the power.
crummy I know but ya get that on the big jobs.
You can tell by the avaricious gleam in Corrin Dans eye that he is just wating for the chance to slant the polls.
yep.
thats how it works here.

been listening to this a lot lately.
you just put it on and it rolls out of the speakers.
you cant understand what they are saying but it sounds like they are having a bloody good time.

congrats to the Cops for tagging 100 boy racers in Canterbury over the weekend.
go at the little arsewipes.
and check their rear number plates too.
see if they are obscured.

another canterbury tale.
CERA bagged in this mornings press for spending $1.8 million on air travel to wellingotn.
the report didn't mention what the trips were for and how could they know?
all they were concerned about was the money.
once upon a time when the gubmint owned the airline officials would travel gratis under some arrangement.
now every penny is accountable and all the nosey google sleuths are constantly on the  job snooping so they can get the ups on somebody and bring them down.
just for the hell of it.
modern times huh?

Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem
Cannot hold you to its heat
Your temperature’s too hot for taming
Your flaming feet burn up the street
I am homeless, come and take me
Into reach of your rattling drums
Let me know, babe, about my fortune
Down along my restless palms
Gypsy gal, you got me swallowed
I have fallen far beneath
Your pearly eyes, so fast an’ slashing
An’ your flashing diamond teeth
The night is pitch black, come an’ make my
Pale face fit into place, ah, please!
Let me know, babe, I’m nearly drowning
If it’s you my lifelines trace
I been wond’rin’ all about me
Ever since I seen you there
On the cliffs of your wildcat charms I’m riding
I know I’m ’round you but I don’t know where
You have slayed me, you have made me
I got to laugh halfways off my heels
I got to know, babe, will you surround me?
So I can tell if I’m really real

Copyright © 1964 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1992 by Special Rider Music

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/spanish-harlem-incident#ixzz38iM4o7Ou