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General – Page 27 – Chris Flannery

hey look! another crappy philly movie

Invincible (2006)
From the producers of “The Rookie”, this inspiring sports movie will star Mark Wahlberg as a Philadelphia Eagles fan who has just lost his wife and his teaching job. He decides one day to show up for an open tryout for his favorite NFL team, only to see his wildest dreams come true.

Just look at that talented cast! The hoagie-talented Tony Luke Jr. makes special appearance. Greg Kinnear, Eagles coach? What?

On the brightside Elizabeth Banks (“tastes like burger”, and “do you like to… do it yourself”) looks to have a more headlining role.

Plus shes a Quaker; it’s hard not to judge abook by its cover – but I would never have guessed she went to Penn and/or graduated magna cum laude.

Richard Pryor


I haven’t done any drugs now, its been seven months. I think I’ve done drugs since I was like 14. So this is first time in my life being sober and being off drugs too; it’s a real strange feeling.
If I had some drugs and shit now I wouldnt give a fuck. But I’d come off stage and I still wouldn’t give a fuck. Then by the time you’re fifty.. and alot of no giving a fuck… you miss part of your life. And you say to yourself, “What happened to your life?”
“I didn’t give a fuck.”

R.I.P. Richard Pryor (1940-2005)

xmas shopping


a nun once repremanded me for using xmas instead of christmas, apparently “it takes the christ out of christmas”

xtopher has not even come close to begining his shopping.

oooh yip whooo

i’m posting these lyrics because they’re not available anywhere on the internet
its from the movie grizzly man, the last song in the movie
don edwards – coyotes:

Was a cowboy I knew in south Texas,
his face was burned deep by the sun,
Part history, part sage, part Mexican;
he was there when Pancho Villa was young.

And he’d tell you a tale of the old days,
when the country was wild all around
Sit out under the stars of the Milky Way
and listen when the coyotes howl.

Oooh Yip oooh yip whoooo.

Now the longhorns are gone,
the drovers are gone, the Comanches are gone,
Geronimo’s gone, the lion is gone
and the red wolf is gone.

Well, he cursed all the roads and the oil
men and he cursed the automobile,
Said this is no place for an hombre like I am
in this new world of asphalt and steel.

Then he’d look off some place in the distance,
at something only he could see
He’d say “All that’s left of the old days
is the damned old coyote and me.”

One morning they searched his adobe,
he disappeared without even a word.
But that night as the moon crossed the mountain,
one more coyote was heard.

lackawanna valley – george inness


George Inness
American, 1825 – 1894
The Lackawanna Valley, c. 1856
oil on canvas, 86 x 127.5 cm (33 7/8 x 50 3/16 in.)
Gift of Mrs. Huttleston Rogers
1945.4.1
National Gallery of Art, Washington DC

Rather than celebrating nature in the tradition of the Hudson River School, George Inness’ Lackawanna Valley seems to commemorate the onset of America’s industrial age. While documenting the achievements of the Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western Railroad, Inness has also created a topographically convincing view of Scranton, Pennsylvania. The artist took relatively few liberties with his composition, but in compliance with the wishes of his corporate patron, he intentionally exaggerated the prominence of the railroad’s yet-to-be-completed roundhouse. His inclusion of numerous tree stumps in the picture’s foreground, although accurate, lends an important note of ambiguity to the work.

Whether it is read as an enthusiastic affirmation of technology or as a belated lament for a rapidly vanishing wilderness, this painting exemplifies a crucial philosophical dilemma that confronted many Americans in the 1850s; expansion inevitably necessitated the widespread destruction of unspoiled nature, itself a still-powerful symbol of the nation’s greatness. Although it was initially commissioned as an homage to the machine, Inness’ Lackawanna Valley nevertheless serves as a poignant pictorial reminder of the ephemeral nature of the American Dream.

[tags]scranton[/tags]

link wray – r.i.p.

Rock legend Link Wray, writer of Rawhide and Rumble dies at 76

COPENHAGEN, Denmark (AP) – Guitar player Link Wray, who invented the power chord, the major modus operandi of modern rock guitarists, has died. He was 76. A native of Dunn, North Carolina, Wray’s style is considered the blueprint for heavy metal and punk music. Wray’s is best known for his 1958 instrumental Rumble, 1959’s Rawhide and 1963’s Jack the Ripper. His music has appeared in movies like Pulp Fiction, Independence Day and Desperado.

His style is said to have inspired many other rock musicians, including Pete Townsend of the Who. David Bowie, Bob Dylan, Steve Van Zandt and Bruce Springsteen have also been quoted as saying that Wray and Rumble inspired them to become musicians. “He is the king; if it hadn’t been for Link Wray and Rumble, I would have never picked up a guitar’,” Townsend wrote on one of Wray’s albums. Neil Young once said: “If I could go back in time and see any band, it would be Link Wray and the Raymen.”

According to Wray’s official website, he invented the fuzz tone by deliberately punching holes in his amplifier speakers. In 2002, Guitar World magazine elected Wray one of the 100 greatest guitarists of all time. Wray, known for his trademark black leather jacket, toured the United States and Canada from 1997 to 2002. He was half Shawnee Indian.

Denmark’s Politiken newspaper said his funeral had already taken place in Copenhagen’s Christian Church. No dates were given. His family could not be reached for comment. His official site does not mention his death. Wray is survived by his wife and son.

who knows where the time goes

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it’s time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it’s time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it’s time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time
For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?

-the late great sandy denny-

i guess i like the fall so much because it makes the spring seem so much better
maybe im a sadist… i get more pleasure knowing the i’m at the ebb rather than the peak

its related to daylight savings time, i know that

but it’s all uphill from here…. which is what i’m afraid of.

the only thing mick jagger and i have in common

It was a refreshing August evening, the night I had sex with Carly Simon. Her album Film Noir had just bombed. I’ll admit there was a sense of desperation in the air. I was 17 and she was old enough to be my mother, hell, she was older than my mother. Her children were away at college, Dartmouth and Pepperdine, if I remember correctly. We lay under the covers and just talk for what seemed to be hours. It was very cosmic. We didn’t really know each other, but we had a connection. I can tell she was a damaged, a sore loser. I was there to make her feel like a winner. I told her she was taking my virginity, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.