Star Wars: The Clone Wars: "Darth Maul Returns"
Star Wars: The Clone Wars: "Darth Maul Returns"
March 25, 2014
Someone told me that Darth Maul had spider legs. I was like: NAHHHHH. So I googled it. Wow. Then I had to go watch some stuff to prove that I wasn't an idiot.
Awesome and oh man...
Star Wars: The Clone Wars: "Darth Maul Returns" is such an intense movie. So much happening, I was a little blown away and saddened again that Disney now controls the Midi-chlorians.
It's actually the beginning of the rebirth of Darth Maul so the Clone Wars marketers just put all four episodes together and sold it as a movie. The Saga will continue soon with the conclusion in Dark Horse Comics: Darth Maul—Son of Dathomir, so I am really looking forward to that...
But back to the movie...
So... Asajj Ventress is the Dark Acolyte of Darth Tyranus's, who we all call Count Dooku and is kicking Boba Fett's butt when he was a young bounty hunter.
More interestingly and importantly we get to see the destruction of the Darksisters of Dathomir by General Grievous, which is a rare gem in the lore of the force: The Darksisters rule the planet. They are a lost tribe of the old Sith, they utilized the planet of Dathomir to do some really interesting things with the force; including metalurgic surgery, exorcism, voodoo and necromancy. Neat.
I only wish there could have been a Rancor in the film (they are from Dathomir anyways).
The only part I really had a problem with was the unkempt growth of Darth Maul's horns when his brother, Savage Opress found him. Savage was doing some interesting stuff with betraying everyone and there is some tie-ins again with the Darkbrothers as well as Ventress, and that continues more in the Clone Wars.
There's a lot of fluff in the clone wars animated series, but the epic showdowns usually pay off - especially in the Darth Maul story.
This is by far the best collection of works since episode three and four of the movies and even though all of the clone wars (animated series and movie) takes place between episode one and two, it is nice to see things as they mostly were before Darth Vader. it was nice to see Mace Windu and Yoda too.
Pretty good flick.
I leave you with this quote:
"You know, when I cut you in half, I should have aimed for your neck instead." - Obi Wan Kenobi
Your internet provider is watching
Imagine ordering food at a restaurant and the waiter brings you a plate with half a serving, but a bill for the amount of a full serving.
He explains that the restaurant has a policy of reducing the servings for customers they deem to be overweight.
You’d be outraged, wouldn’t you? What business is it of theirs if you are overweight? How can they decide if you weigh too much?
Yet that is exactly the kind of thing our Internet Service Providers began doing this week.
This week the major ISPs, including the two here in Prince William County, Verizon and Comcast, began participating in the Copyright Alert System.
Your ISP will be watching what is downloaded using peer-to-peer networks, like Bittorrent. If they see a file downloaded to your IP address that a copyright owner says belongs to them, then the ISP begins a six-step process with you.
Initially you will receive an email or two telling you that copyrighted material is being illegally downloaded. If there is more downloading, you might receive an email requiring you to watch a video about copyright before you can continue using the Internet. Who cares if your boss wants that report emailed right now, you will have to watch the video first.
The third tier of warning, with the fourth and fifth occurrence, may throttle your download speed. Your Internet speed slows way down, yet harkening back to the restaurant metaphor, the ISP will continue to charge you for the full amount each month.
My household does not download anything with a peer-to-peer network, yet this scares me to death.
There are ways for false positives to show I am downloading, when I am not.
The ISPs software could be faulty. It is not open to inspection.
Or someone with technical skills could download illegally, but spoof my IP address. That would make the downloads appear to be coming into my home.
Places with open wifi access will have to think twice now. Anyone could log on, download illegally, and then get them throttled so those of us who use their wifi access innocently are punished.
While the ISPs are looking at our incoming traffic, so called “deep packet inspection,” they will see a lot of information about us. How will they use that? Do they feel entitled to sell that data?
Also, not all downloading of copyrighted material is illegal. So called Fair Use rules are not considered by the entities who flag downloads. This erodes our rights to Fair Use.
Once copyright holders get a taste of controlling our Internet access, what more might they be tempted to demand?
Will they monitor watching a video on YouTube of your cousin’s wedding and flag you with an offense because there is copyrighted music playing in the background?
Commercial entities are taking for themselves the power of enforcement and punishment, outside the law. While there is an appeal process, you have to pay $35 to initiate it.
Is the slate ever swept clean? If you download a file now, then one again in a year, then one again in five years, and three years after that, and then finally another, will that last file downloaded 10 years after the first, throttle your connection?
There are technical means to circumvent the monitoring. This draconian system will only discourage casual users, not the technically minded earnest pirates.
Certainly pirating is illegal and detrimental. When the music industry was hit by pirating, they discovered most of the pirates wanted to buy the product. The customers wanted the ease of downloading individual tracks, instead of having to go into a store and buying a CD with one song they wanted, and fourteen they didn’t.
Once music downloads begin in places like iTunes, the pirates became happy paying customers.
Now, people want that same convenience and choice with videos. I have recently become a big time streaming Netflix fan. There is more than enough there to keep me happy. Yet some want to watch “Game of Thrones”, the HBO series. It is the most pirated show in 2012. And here is the real reason Verizon and Comcast are willing to tick off their own customers to protect someone else’s property. The cable companies are rapidly becoming obsolete. There are better ways to distribute video content than aggregating another's choices of content on networks like HBO or Showtime. And who wants to pay $4.95 to watch a pay per view movie, when $7.95 a month gets you unlimited Netflix streaming? Or have to subscribe to HBO to watch one program?
We can only hope there are more enlightened ISP build outs like the one Google did in Kansas City where the primary interest is in providing fast, unfettered, and affordable gigabit speed internet.
Meanwhile, we are in the days after the asteroid has struck, and the dinosaurs are in their death frenzy. Until they figure out how to evolve, the ISPs who also sell video will be looking over our shoulders and watching what we download.
Book Reading Reminder
Don't forget that coming up very soon is my book reading!
Hope to see you all there!
Hope to see you all there!
Here's the URL http://www.ustream.tv/channel/pauly-hart
hey baby, how was your day?
i figured that i might as well tell my [dear people of the internet] friends as well so that, when they ask me the same question (with or without the "baby" part) and when i say: "absolutely awesome" then they can reference this next bit in their head -
thus:
i work in the outdoor education department at one of the top ten outdoor ymca camps in the u.s.a. and i am blessed to do so. today, after breakfast at work, we got ready for our big day. each of us was going to be teaching three workshops to our visitors.
we put up signs directing them to our meeting and got as ready as best we could mentally for the challenge at hand. after getting 150 parents and teachers get signed in, we had our introductory meeting about what camp was, what they could expect, what we were going to do and how much fun they had. we then introduced ourselves and we made them laugh.
now to the fun! we hopped on the golf cart and zoomed up to the lake village whereupon i donned my 1811 settlers outfit. splitting up into groups i then instructed many of the participants in 40 minute segments on: necessities of life (learning about how to turn a deer into about 2,000 household objects, and also dipping candles).
then i moved on to "huck finn" fishing and hoosier poetry: (two classes actually combined but the easiest to teach, as it is one activity with time consuming parts) the fishing is accomplished with a cane pole and bait you catch yourself and the poetry is a workshop on communication and storytelling.
then i moved over to trappers trade where we talk about how a trapper lived and we get to set leg-hole traps and canibear traps and talk about how to work a pelt from the animal and what you can do with it, and also about the life of a trapper. watching soccer moms spring a leg-hole traps is among the funniest thing you will ever see.
we then all moved over to a shelter to find freshly grilled hamburgers waiting for us. after we cleaned up all of our workstations and saying goodbye to 150 wonderful parents and teachers, we decompressed and talked about our experience with sharing what our challenges were as well as our triumphs and then planned our next activity together.
friends, people i know, people who stalk me - let me just say this: i am getting PAID to go outdoors and teach people (among other wonderful things) how to write poetry sitting outside. is there nothing more wonderful than this?
if you would like to know more about the beautiful place i work, or would like to schedule an adult retreat for your business, or bring your children to summer camp, you may do so here -http://www.camptecumseh.org/
pauly hart
march 16, 14
Facebook Rant on Money
Pauly Hart
March 12, 2014
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Yes, the wealth is indeed controlled by a select few. Those who can dictate to us when things will be cheaper, when we can get a loan... etc... Don't think for one instant that this recession is an "accident" or a "crisis" for the wealthy of the world. They only stand to gain more and grow richer from you and I's poverty. There is not one thing that they would do to help us, in reality. They control the brain washing that you watch on your Television "Programming" that tells you that we are out of the recession.
Don't be an idiot! If you are over 25 you should remember how easy it was in 2006 to get a job, a loan, a car, a house? Now we have this mess? Come on. Don't be retarded. Just because you have more distractions from your new Iphone applications does not mean that you have a brighter future. I don't care what you THINK about this debacle... this terrible tragedy that is happening to OUR country, I don't care if you THINK that I'm nuts or if I get zero "Thumbs up" on this post (Whatever that means anyway). Unfriend me. Laugh at me. Mock me. Scorn me. I will stay fed and stay warm and stay dry in the coming poverty because my trust is in the Lord who made me and in HIM do I trust.
So yeah, I choose NOT to buy gadgets and gizmos and doohickeys to help me escape the coming fiasco. I don't have a working Television, I don't have a smart phone, heck... I don't even have a mobile phone. It's not that I abhor technology... (You are reading this on Fbook aren't you?) It's that I don't rely on it to blind me. And you are blind if you believe that we as a people, in the society of the United States of America, are better off today financially, than we were in 2006. And there is not recovery from a flood of money.
“The modern banking system manufactures money out of nothing. The process is, perhaps, the most astounding piece of sleight of hand that was ever invented. Banks can in fact inflate, mint and un-mint the modern ledger-entry currency.” Major L L B Angus.
“Money is a new form of slavery, and distinguishable from the old simply by the fact that it is impersonal – that there is no human relation between master and slave.” Leo Tolstoy
“Let me issue and control a nation’s money and I care not who writes the laws.” Mayer Amschel Rothschild
“Money plays the largest part in determining the course of history.” Karl Marx
Roger and JB
I love to razz JB but I would trust him with my wallet, house-keys and life.
He's actually a wizard at taxes too, and is a Realtor on the side.
You should probably follow him on facebook.
pauly hart art inspired by mike
 |
| here's a painting that i made after viewing something similar from my friend mike |
Noah's Native America
Friday, March 7, 2014
Noah's Native America
A humorous and plausible account
of the classic chronological Bible story
Pauly Hart
March 7th, 2014
Somewhere around 1750, here in the continent of North America, there was an issue with "White People". This was not a new thing. They had been slowly filling up the eastern seaboard and trickling in like a gang of termites, eating up everything in sight and putting up fence and writing deeds of ownership. This didn't sit very well with the Children of Noah whatsoever. They had liked their seclusion and here came Japeth's kids, trying to ruin everything. The Children of Noah had liked their peaceful ways. They never wanted to "own land" or "stay put". In their mind, anyone who said they owned land was a fool... Who can own what only God can give? But let's retrace something first... With some patience, you might see why.
If you recall your Bible, you will see that it's pretty plain about Genesis one and Genesis two, should you chose to read it chronologically. Genesis chapter one: God creates stuff. He creates birds and light and gravity and polliwogs and a whole bunch of crap that you and I could never come up with. ...CONT...
Find the rest of the article HERE at EmpiresandGenerals.com
Noah's Native America
A humorous and plausible account
of the classic chronological Bible story
Pauly Hart
March 7th, 2014
Somewhere around 1750, here in the continent of North America, there was an issue with "White People". This was not a new thing. They had been slowly filling up the eastern seaboard and trickling in like a gang of termites, eating up everything in sight and putting up fence and writing deeds of ownership. This didn't sit very well with the Children of Noah whatsoever. They had liked their seclusion and here came Japeth's kids, trying to ruin everything. The Children of Noah had liked their peaceful ways. They never wanted to "own land" or "stay put". In their mind, anyone who said they owned land was a fool... Who can own what only God can give? But let's retrace something first... With some patience, you might see why.
If you recall your Bible, you will see that it's pretty plain about Genesis one and Genesis two, should you chose to read it chronologically. Genesis chapter one: God creates stuff. He creates birds and light and gravity and polliwogs and a whole bunch of crap that you and I could never come up with. ...CONT...
Find the rest of the article HERE at EmpiresandGenerals.com
Where the Demons Rise and the White Wolf Grovels
Pauly Hart, Thursday, March 6th, 4AM
It was late, late enough for the audience to start to frenzy. Alice cooper had not arrived and Trent Reznor was vomiting up everything that he had put down earlier. The demand performance of "White Wedding" was going to be an utter disaster. Rage against the Machine was tuning up, and the rest of Nine Inch Nails were there to supply extra background music where Rage would be lacking... But there was no lead singer.
It was Tulsa and the year was both 2017 and 2007 - I was pretty sure. I wasn't sure how I had come to be in charge of the stripping and waxing of the Gypsy Coffeehouse, or why Bradley had taken a trip to Fiji, or why even he had decided to have White Wedding and the strip and wax on the same night. My realtor was there also, but she was just checking in her inventory of wines into the Gypsy and so, I verified her inventory and she left. It was a new startup wine company that employed the floating balls just like Orbit Soda had. But the back room was a disaster and I was terrified at the prospect of the audience not having anything to drink.
I snuck around the many crazy rooms that almost had no purpose into the main dining area of the Gypsy. The bar was gone by this time too! The mid-shift girl Heidi had taken everything down and put it in the back. Only a couple of chairs were left and the bad news was that the opening bands Seether and Placebo were done and the main act: White Wedding was due to start in only a little while. I was furious that there was nothing to eat or drink... That the coffee-shop was going to lose money, but all we really had that was portable to a concert setting was bottles of water and Dr Pepper in 12 ounce bottles. Heidi showed me where things were at, and I asked her how she had moved the Cappuccino machine and along comes Joey who just pointed to his arm, flexed it, and we all laugh.
The Emcee for the night was Bullit and he was frantic. I had seen him running around side-stage talking to everyone, talking on his radio, talking talking talking. Meanwhile I was in the back assessing the drink issue. It had now been around twenty minutes since Seether had taken their gear off and Rage and Nails were ready. The techs were still scrambling with the snakes and mic lines here and there but it looked like it was almost ready to begin. I turned once more to the issue of appeasing the masses for this venue was quite different than most of the concerts that I had ever worked.
The concert hall itself looked to be a converted grade school theater. The walls had been knocked down on the left and the right and the ceiling had been removed and raised to the floor above to give a faux Opera-house look. The middle was fancy, but to the left and the right were really cheap aluminum bleachers, and in some parts, even tree stumps.The room was full of people dressed in their best Gothic Steam-Punk. Huge black ribbons, huge top hats. Everything was pretty, and everything was dark. And look: They already had drinks. And fruit. And a Champagne Fountain at the front. My little cart of Dr Pepper and water looked like an affront to the senses of this setup. The chocolate fountain and strawberry dipping area had been mostly grazed clean, but the bunt cake castle was still mostly standing. Around isle three, I turned around and left the snack oasis that I had not previously known about, taking my cart back up the aisle, to the cafe at the back of the theater.
But I didn't have time to do much. Samantha was there and she was in a black prom dress. "You have to sing Pauly. There is no one else."
To which I replied: "Are you kidding me? I don't know any of Trent's stuff."
Her eyes were saucers. "No. You don't understand. Ozzy was supposed to come tonight instead of Trent and Alice, It was going to be a surprise."
"Well then where the heck are any of these three singers?" I asked, a little perturbed that they were abandoning the wonderful people of this audience, who were my paying customers on a daily basis.
"That's just it man" said crazy Tom, appearing from behind a stack of umbrellas. "Nobody knows."
That Tom was here did not surprise me. That he was hiding behind a stack of umbrellas was a little disconcerting. I told them both that I would think about it, but that I needed to know what the songs were.
I went to find Bullit.
All throughout the break, people were not really upset or impatient. It was pretty cool. There was a joyful, almost playful attitude among everyone, almost as if they weren't at a concert at all, but more like just hanging out at Gen Con. I was relieved, I had seen some pretty terrible audiences in my days and I didn't want to this one fierce. There's nothing angrier than Gothic Medieval Steam-Punk Cosplayers who haven't had their Music. I walked down to the front of the stage.
"Bullit!" I cried, and there he was right in front of me, pushing people out of the way.
"I want to know five things." I told him. He nodded and motioned me to follow him. I only asked him the fourth thing. "Four!" I hollered for suddenly Rage and Nails had started doing an impromptu guitar sound check, playing Fugazi riffs. "Are you only asking me because I can sing and do impromptu?"
"Yes!" he hollered back. "And because you're cool too!"
"What?" I asked incredulously.
But he ignored me and said: "I need you on the stage in five minutes. Do whatever you need to do before then!" and pushed thru the growing crowd, leaving me there.
I was pretty pissed, excited and nervous all at the same time. Pissed because of the lazy singers. Why hadn't they done their job? Excited because this was the opportunity of several lifetimes... and nervous because... WHAT? They wanted me... Such a beginner at onstage band singing to fill in for the legends that were not going to come up on stage?
Ozzy Ozbourne, Alice Cooper, and Trent Reznor?
I looked up to the stage. The band was horsing around... "noodling" as it was known in the business. Not really giving the audience any riffs from their own songs to get them excited, but not doing nothing. Bands loved to noodle. Now they were doing a bit of Green Day.
I made my way to the back with my head swimming. How in the world was I going to pull this off? I knew absolutely none of their songs. White Wedding had been touring for around six months to the acclaim of all of the Rock world. It was a brilliant success, but they had not advertised one show via the traditional media. It had all been in secret dark internet convos. Usually even the location was secret, just mentioning somewhere in the state. The owners of the venue were asked to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements about advertising and the fans were not told where it was until two hours before the show started. This is why it was so small and so much fun here. The bands knew their fans would not only have to pay to get here, but really work to get here... The reward was worth the wait.
I went to my friend Beth. She was sitting in the bleacher section, watching her friend kneed some dough that he was going to cook biscuits with there in his portable oven.
"Beth!" I hollered as I mostly jogged over to her. "Do you know any of these songs?"
Her face cocked sideways at me. "You don't?" She asked. Oh I could tell already that she was angry. Everyone who had been following White Wedding on the internet had already memorized all of their songs. They had released nothing official, so it was all shaky hand cam from the audiences, but there had been a couple of genius fans who had done some compilations with some decent recordings and put them all up on Pirate Bay as their "official tour song list" even though it was not, for every set, they introduced two new songs and didn't play one of their oldest songs and one random song. It was an evolving song list, and it was getting mixed reviews.
"No. I only know some Rage and some Nails from back in the day." I told her with exasperation. Now she was really angry. She called me a bastard, threw some dough at me and wandered off. The kick drum started thumping, very slowly and very rhythmically. It was time to put up or shut up. The crowd had started a slow clap. They were facing the stage, but a couple of people in the know were turned to me, they had strong smiles on their faces, they had faith in me. They could trust me. They were true believers in the healing power of rock... They were they type of people who had no idea how hard it was.
I came up the side stage steps, the ones that led behind the curtain. There was Bullit, with a bottle of water, at the ready.
"You ready bro?" He asked.
"Maybe you could do some beat-boxing." I told him, a joke on our past musical history together. He laughed his jolly laugh. The one where his whole face contorts into a tiny space between his ears and becomes red.
"Oh no man. This one is all you." he said and then bounded onto the stage: "Are you reeeeaaaaaadyyyyyyy Tuuuuuuulsaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
fin
Below are the lyrics to the third song in the set: The Reapers Gloves. It sounds a lot like Ozzy would sing it.
I snuck around the many crazy rooms that almost had no purpose into the main dining area of the Gypsy. The bar was gone by this time too! The mid-shift girl Heidi had taken everything down and put it in the back. Only a couple of chairs were left and the bad news was that the opening bands Seether and Placebo were done and the main act: White Wedding was due to start in only a little while. I was furious that there was nothing to eat or drink... That the coffee-shop was going to lose money, but all we really had that was portable to a concert setting was bottles of water and Dr Pepper in 12 ounce bottles. Heidi showed me where things were at, and I asked her how she had moved the Cappuccino machine and along comes Joey who just pointed to his arm, flexed it, and we all laugh.
The Emcee for the night was Bullit and he was frantic. I had seen him running around side-stage talking to everyone, talking on his radio, talking talking talking. Meanwhile I was in the back assessing the drink issue. It had now been around twenty minutes since Seether had taken their gear off and Rage and Nails were ready. The techs were still scrambling with the snakes and mic lines here and there but it looked like it was almost ready to begin. I turned once more to the issue of appeasing the masses for this venue was quite different than most of the concerts that I had ever worked.
The concert hall itself looked to be a converted grade school theater. The walls had been knocked down on the left and the right and the ceiling had been removed and raised to the floor above to give a faux Opera-house look. The middle was fancy, but to the left and the right were really cheap aluminum bleachers, and in some parts, even tree stumps.The room was full of people dressed in their best Gothic Steam-Punk. Huge black ribbons, huge top hats. Everything was pretty, and everything was dark. And look: They already had drinks. And fruit. And a Champagne Fountain at the front. My little cart of Dr Pepper and water looked like an affront to the senses of this setup. The chocolate fountain and strawberry dipping area had been mostly grazed clean, but the bunt cake castle was still mostly standing. Around isle three, I turned around and left the snack oasis that I had not previously known about, taking my cart back up the aisle, to the cafe at the back of the theater.
But I didn't have time to do much. Samantha was there and she was in a black prom dress. "You have to sing Pauly. There is no one else."
To which I replied: "Are you kidding me? I don't know any of Trent's stuff."
Her eyes were saucers. "No. You don't understand. Ozzy was supposed to come tonight instead of Trent and Alice, It was going to be a surprise."
"Well then where the heck are any of these three singers?" I asked, a little perturbed that they were abandoning the wonderful people of this audience, who were my paying customers on a daily basis.
"That's just it man" said crazy Tom, appearing from behind a stack of umbrellas. "Nobody knows."
That Tom was here did not surprise me. That he was hiding behind a stack of umbrellas was a little disconcerting. I told them both that I would think about it, but that I needed to know what the songs were.
I went to find Bullit.
All throughout the break, people were not really upset or impatient. It was pretty cool. There was a joyful, almost playful attitude among everyone, almost as if they weren't at a concert at all, but more like just hanging out at Gen Con. I was relieved, I had seen some pretty terrible audiences in my days and I didn't want to this one fierce. There's nothing angrier than Gothic Medieval Steam-Punk Cosplayers who haven't had their Music. I walked down to the front of the stage.
"Bullit!" I cried, and there he was right in front of me, pushing people out of the way.
"I want to know five things." I told him. He nodded and motioned me to follow him. I only asked him the fourth thing. "Four!" I hollered for suddenly Rage and Nails had started doing an impromptu guitar sound check, playing Fugazi riffs. "Are you only asking me because I can sing and do impromptu?"
"Yes!" he hollered back. "And because you're cool too!"
"What?" I asked incredulously.
But he ignored me and said: "I need you on the stage in five minutes. Do whatever you need to do before then!" and pushed thru the growing crowd, leaving me there.
I was pretty pissed, excited and nervous all at the same time. Pissed because of the lazy singers. Why hadn't they done their job? Excited because this was the opportunity of several lifetimes... and nervous because... WHAT? They wanted me... Such a beginner at onstage band singing to fill in for the legends that were not going to come up on stage?
Ozzy Ozbourne, Alice Cooper, and Trent Reznor?
I looked up to the stage. The band was horsing around... "noodling" as it was known in the business. Not really giving the audience any riffs from their own songs to get them excited, but not doing nothing. Bands loved to noodle. Now they were doing a bit of Green Day.
I made my way to the back with my head swimming. How in the world was I going to pull this off? I knew absolutely none of their songs. White Wedding had been touring for around six months to the acclaim of all of the Rock world. It was a brilliant success, but they had not advertised one show via the traditional media. It had all been in secret dark internet convos. Usually even the location was secret, just mentioning somewhere in the state. The owners of the venue were asked to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements about advertising and the fans were not told where it was until two hours before the show started. This is why it was so small and so much fun here. The bands knew their fans would not only have to pay to get here, but really work to get here... The reward was worth the wait.
I went to my friend Beth. She was sitting in the bleacher section, watching her friend kneed some dough that he was going to cook biscuits with there in his portable oven.
"Beth!" I hollered as I mostly jogged over to her. "Do you know any of these songs?"
Her face cocked sideways at me. "You don't?" She asked. Oh I could tell already that she was angry. Everyone who had been following White Wedding on the internet had already memorized all of their songs. They had released nothing official, so it was all shaky hand cam from the audiences, but there had been a couple of genius fans who had done some compilations with some decent recordings and put them all up on Pirate Bay as their "official tour song list" even though it was not, for every set, they introduced two new songs and didn't play one of their oldest songs and one random song. It was an evolving song list, and it was getting mixed reviews.
"No. I only know some Rage and some Nails from back in the day." I told her with exasperation. Now she was really angry. She called me a bastard, threw some dough at me and wandered off. The kick drum started thumping, very slowly and very rhythmically. It was time to put up or shut up. The crowd had started a slow clap. They were facing the stage, but a couple of people in the know were turned to me, they had strong smiles on their faces, they had faith in me. They could trust me. They were true believers in the healing power of rock... They were they type of people who had no idea how hard it was.
I came up the side stage steps, the ones that led behind the curtain. There was Bullit, with a bottle of water, at the ready.
"You ready bro?" He asked.
"Maybe you could do some beat-boxing." I told him, a joke on our past musical history together. He laughed his jolly laugh. The one where his whole face contorts into a tiny space between his ears and becomes red.
"Oh no man. This one is all you." he said and then bounded onto the stage: "Are you reeeeaaaaaadyyyyyyy Tuuuuuuulsaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
fin
Below are the lyrics to the third song in the set: The Reapers Gloves. It sounds a lot like Ozzy would sing it.
The reapers gloves
Out in the night - the twilight's risen
The cold dead hand - of night begins
I feel the grasp - of the unforgiven
Cold cuts the knife - of their first sin
Blind is the ice - of frozen laughter
Yours is the night - not born again
The reapers gloves - make hollow rattles
They grip the scythe - to fell all men
I know the place of pain and sorrow
Where the Angels cry and my hope is bottled
You are the pain that I must swallow
Where the demons rise and the white wolf grovels
Down underground - the dead are rising
Dark in their crypts - their hatred grows
Free from the hope - among the living
They burn with fire - with molten glow
I know the place of pain and sorrow
Where the Angels cry and my hope is bottled
You are the pain that I must swallow
Where the demons rise and the white wolf grovels
The cold dead hand - of night begins
I feel the grasp - of the unforgiven
Cold cuts the knife - of their first sin
Blind is the ice - of frozen laughter
Yours is the night - not born again
The reapers gloves - make hollow rattles
They grip the scythe - to fell all men
I know the place of pain and sorrow
Where the Angels cry and my hope is bottled
You are the pain that I must swallow
Where the demons rise and the white wolf grovels
Down underground - the dead are rising
Dark in their crypts - their hatred grows
Free from the hope - among the living
They burn with fire - with molten glow
I know the place of pain and sorrow
Where the Angels cry and my hope is bottled
You are the pain that I must swallow
Where the demons rise and the white wolf grovels
I would rather die chasing my dreams.
I would rather die chasing my dreams.
Pauly Hart
3/1/14
As many of you know, for the last several years I have been very productive at making several different art projects and am currently working on my first novel. I have wanted to supplement my life with career choices that promoted creativity and growth, but have not been able to, due to circumstances.
I have been working thirty hours a week at a major retail department store in the mornings and then thirty hours a week at a major grocery store chain in the evenings and, while it has been rewarding financially, has not been anything that I would have considered to be life-altering and career building.
Many of you know that I attended Seminary at the bright young age of eighteen and went on to do many great things for Churches around the Oklahoma and Indiana area with regards to youth groups and children's ministries, but got out of it after a bitter divorce. At the turn of the millennium, I ventured off to discover, learn and become an artist and have done all that I set out to do in that part of my life.
I got caught up doing other things for a while and made some terrible decisions regarding my career after I left the artsy area of Oklahoma, working with an almost famous and pretty successful painter as well as a musician/producer of note. Things were good and life was great until I lost perspective and stayed at the JOBS that I was at just to make money, ignoring the CAREER that was feeding my spirit. I figured: "Hey, I can just DO THIS WORK and go home and make art." instead of doing something that I love and getting blessed, rewarded and paid all at the same time... and THEN go home to make art.
After many hard lessons, I know the difference. Firstly, I now know where my true talents lie and want to make the most of it. I am tired of my moms shadow looming over me from the grave of nineteen years telling me that art was a waste of time and that I should succeed at being a salesman. I know, that, as she looks down from heaven, she would approve of me being with people, making a true difference, and working towards the goals that Jesus set for my life... not some jacked up advice from her former nervous, anxious self. But I loved her and wanted her to be proud of me, so I did sales and hated it.
I love art, people, nature and technology, and now, with a fresh head on my shoulders, I leave the sales world and venture off into the world of helping people. Two days ago, I was a clerk and a cashier and a salesman. Today I started my new job as a camp counselor at a Christian Day Camp.
I built a fire, boiled snow, played frisbee, told stories, played chaos-ball (a form of quidditch), watched you-tube videos, played charades, ate chili, sled down a hill, took tours, talked photography, and got to sing a lot of songs with a great guys and gals from all over the United States (one from Alaska, one from New York City) and generally had a blast.
And now I am home and have typed a thousand words in my upcoming book.
My body is tired, my concentration is shot, my eyes are bleary, my fingers... are... well, you get the picture. But my heart? My spirit? My mind? Encouraged, filled and ready for another day.
So, tomorrow when I wake up, bright and early (in around six hours) will I find myself yearning for my job? No. For I believe that I am chasing my career.
For I would rather die chasing my dreams than stay stagnant in a pool of contentment.
Pauly Hart
3/1/14
I have been working thirty hours a week at a major retail department store in the mornings and then thirty hours a week at a major grocery store chain in the evenings and, while it has been rewarding financially, has not been anything that I would have considered to be life-altering and career building.
Many of you know that I attended Seminary at the bright young age of eighteen and went on to do many great things for Churches around the Oklahoma and Indiana area with regards to youth groups and children's ministries, but got out of it after a bitter divorce. At the turn of the millennium, I ventured off to discover, learn and become an artist and have done all that I set out to do in that part of my life.
I got caught up doing other things for a while and made some terrible decisions regarding my career after I left the artsy area of Oklahoma, working with an almost famous and pretty successful painter as well as a musician/producer of note. Things were good and life was great until I lost perspective and stayed at the JOBS that I was at just to make money, ignoring the CAREER that was feeding my spirit. I figured: "Hey, I can just DO THIS WORK and go home and make art." instead of doing something that I love and getting blessed, rewarded and paid all at the same time... and THEN go home to make art.
After many hard lessons, I know the difference. Firstly, I now know where my true talents lie and want to make the most of it. I am tired of my moms shadow looming over me from the grave of nineteen years telling me that art was a waste of time and that I should succeed at being a salesman. I know, that, as she looks down from heaven, she would approve of me being with people, making a true difference, and working towards the goals that Jesus set for my life... not some jacked up advice from her former nervous, anxious self. But I loved her and wanted her to be proud of me, so I did sales and hated it.
I love art, people, nature and technology, and now, with a fresh head on my shoulders, I leave the sales world and venture off into the world of helping people. Two days ago, I was a clerk and a cashier and a salesman. Today I started my new job as a camp counselor at a Christian Day Camp.
I built a fire, boiled snow, played frisbee, told stories, played chaos-ball (a form of quidditch), watched you-tube videos, played charades, ate chili, sled down a hill, took tours, talked photography, and got to sing a lot of songs with a great guys and gals from all over the United States (one from Alaska, one from New York City) and generally had a blast.
And now I am home and have typed a thousand words in my upcoming book.
My body is tired, my concentration is shot, my eyes are bleary, my fingers... are... well, you get the picture. But my heart? My spirit? My mind? Encouraged, filled and ready for another day.
So, tomorrow when I wake up, bright and early (in around six hours) will I find myself yearning for my job? No. For I believe that I am chasing my career.
For I would rather die chasing my dreams than stay stagnant in a pool of contentment.
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