'The Great Philadelphia Lawyer'

You play these songs, the order isn't important as much as listening to each and every one, every night for decades on end; or, listen to the ones you like whenever. I like all of these songs. Genuinely. It runs the gamut, which I think is not so normal.

I've often thought that about 90% of any genre is rubbish, but that you can find diamonds in the rough of just about anything. I've always found 'genre' hounds to be annoying. It's a big world out there and I'm not privvy to a great many things outside of the Atlanticist Sphere.

I've loved this for a long time. It's only the unofficial national anthem of Brazil. So, anyway, as with most of these missives, I'm always adding stuff, so better to just let it settle rather than opening it up immediately. Sometimes you miss the essential thing and get kind of a dud.

When I listen to this, even if I don't know the words in Portuguese, my eyes well with tears because I can't get it through my thick skull that there is so much beauty in the world, but it's spoiled by the trajectory. We can't escape the trajectory. All you can do is repress it, because you can do nothing, at all, to stop it.

[Insert irrelvant rant]; scroll down for the music videos...

'We' can't do anything to stop it either. Not the U.S. and China working together in harmony with Russia, Iran and the EU. The cake is baked and it's going to burn. So, you write doomer stuff and you listen to music in a Nowheresville in solitude with the occasional stranger interlude, which is about as good a life as I can presently conceive.

It's paradise, compared to past cultural circumstances of the embourgoisement of a city I once loved and revered, but now feel that hate and revulsion are more appropriate than ever, but only for the leaders and their cocksucking globalist paymasters.

Just to be clear, I'm a more localist now. I'm so fucking sick of 'thinking globally'. Acting locally is more worthwhile. I've seen it in action from new acquaintances and old friends. It's about the only activism middle aged people with modest resources should be bothering with: community building.

To repeat it, this is not chauvenism. Then again, I don't want the instrumental values of degenerate capitalist Rich Guys infecting the relatively unspoiled cultures of rural Pennsylvania. And there are many such cultures, bitchez.

I love how the assholes who run and own this country think they're fooling anybody. Everyone and his brother is baying for your blood in the bars from here to Cairo Illinois. They don't bring it up all that often. I do. And it's always the same, kill these child fucking fucks. Anecdotal qualitative data, kid fucker. Stand in for Multicultural Big Capital. The PC Police. All the rest of 'em too.

Kill the earth, wouldya? We'll kill you first, maybe. Watch your back, billionaire. Not any specific one. Merely an observation of drunken rhetoric. Not anything I myself would actually advocate. Merely hearsay. In a court of law. Merely free speech. Like poetry, the least evident form. Fachidioten can't interpret poems; their brains are mush. Merely an abstract and neutral recounting of things said passing in the night. A whisp, a ghost that vanishes under any kind of scrutiny.

You can hear it in bars, sure. Restaurants, too. Gas stations, even. Hotels, motels. I've been from the top of Vermont to the bottom of Illinois for a cumulative 8 weeks this summer. I've met a lot of people, a statistically significant enough sample for me. And the verdict is guilty. And the sentence is death. Shape up. Or we'll ship you out. Not me, naturally. The American People, writ large. ha ha ha.

So fuck off Rich Guys from the Big City. Absentee slumlord motherfuckers from New York City – Jared Kushner, maybe? – getting Section 8 bucks to warehouse illegals in venerable but now ramshackle old houses in Shamokin, PA if you can believe it. Well, believe it. These pinchy pendejo motherfuckers. The Landlord, I mean.

We don't want or need you here. And if you don't mind your manners, you'll be metaphorically tarred, feathered and ridden out on a rail. Metaphorically, mind you. Or mocked or socked at a bar. I've seen it happen. More than once. Not a participant. Yet. Should the time come, so be it.

And if you end up in the wrong town with a big mouth and on the make, shitbird, you just might disappear completely. Fuck the wrong guy's ex. Or the wrong father's daughter. Fuck around, and find out, outtatowner. It's been known to happen. And not just in the south, either, where it was very common and is now still most common. West Virginia, a neighboring state, a frequent occurence.

Sometimes the law 'don't even write it down', I was told, they know what it was and don't want to get involved. 'Real greaseball shit among the Hatfields and McCoys' kind of thing. In Appalachian Pennsylvania it's common enough. And the Amish police their own around here. They'll beat the shit out of ya. They'll send over a Lebanon Levi type. Probably won't kill ya though. Probably.

Happens every day someplace and the police don't much bother following up on it either, necessarily. Another dead asshole? They'll go through the motions. Good. Got what was coming to him, as we say in these parts. If he's got money, he can drag it out. No tears shed. But all that can be slow walked out in the country. No fucks given, Pennsylvania, nay Philadelphia Lawyer. We'll wait you out.

And now, the flip side...