I've always been someone who can recall lyrics. I have them stored in my head. Some people think it's remarkable, the amount of "stuff" I can recall, but I think it has something to do with my Baptist upbringing. I memorized bible verses from the time I was four, and I can't help but think that has helped. A tune with the words doesn't hurt either, as far as remembering...
It occurred to me that the subjects talked about here on Xanga, by folks like Shamelessly Red, My Freedom Wings, Freedom Abounds, myself and others could have a soundtrack, so I've decided to post some of my recollections of lyrics from songs to illustrate what I mean.
Surveillance of everything we do, from being on camera at traffic lights, ATMs, grocery stores, and so many other places can make us wonder if you have an ounce of privacy left. The census taking GPS addresses of our front doors, the monitoring of our phone calls, Internet use, e-mails, etc; all give the impression we can't be unobserved unless we're in our own backyards, but then... there's a fear even of that by some of us who tend to be considered paranoid. This song by the late Mark Heard sums this up nicely.
Satellite Sky Why do I lie awake at night
and think back just as far as I can
To the sound of my father's laugh outdoors To the thought of Sputnik in free-flight? Before I could fashion my poverty
Before I distrusted the night
I must've known something
I must've known something
Those were the times I live for tonight Why, why, why, I say Why, Mama, Why?
Why can't I sleep in peace tonight
underneath the satellite sky? It can't be easy for my children
I'm hollow before my time
It looks like a desert here to me
Where is the promise of youth for my child? Where are the faraway kingdoms of dreams?
We've been to the moon and there's trouble at home
They vanished in the mist with Saint Nicholas
They lie scattered to the ghettos and the war zones Why, Why, Why, I say Why, Mama, Why?
Why can't I sleep in peace tonight
underneath the satellite sky I want to stand out in the middle of the street
and listen to the stars
I want to hear their sweet voices
I want to feel a big bang rattle my bones
I want to laugh for my children
I want the spark to ignite
before they find out what it means to be born
into these times Why, Why, Why, I say Why, Mama, Why?
Why can't I sleep in peace tonight
underneath the satellite sky? Written by Mark Heard © 1992 Ideola Music/ASCAP
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Radio Frequency Identification (RFID) is another concern. Wal-Mart is second only to the Pentagon in their use of RFID. They are looking to the future, requiring all vendors to install RFID tracking chips in their products, if they wish to sell them at Wal-Mart. This will eventually eliminate cashiers, as you'll load your cart, and go to you car... and as you exit, your groceries will be scanned, debited to your account, and re-ordered instantaneously back to re-stock the shelves. It creates a marketer's dream, and studies of each geographical location can be used to market more effectively to the consumer, even allowing personalized sales for each individual shopper. The fear is that, we as a people love to catalog stuff. Groceries are one step. The tagging of Alzheimer's patients can't be bad, right? Prisoners, folks from other countries, etc.
The implantation of these chips under our skin is a fear many believe we will have to undergo, to be able to be employed, buy food and necessities, and sell anything. Under a system like this, would barter be legal? I would have to believe that bartering for services keeps the items bought and sold out of the "inventory" of the system, and therefore, untraceable... hence illegal. It would be considered dangerous in a terror-ridden world, and possibly counterfeit.
The idea that everyone could be tagged to buy or sell isn't a new one. biblical scholars have talked about it for years, and the bible calls such a thing, the Mark of The Beast.
In 1977, Daniel Amos Band wrote a song about it, and I posted this one in a comment box on Shamelessly Red's blog:
BETTER
2nd man:
(smugly)
Take my groceries and put 'em in the sack,
No checks, no cash, don't give me no flack.
Everyone:
(with reluctant optimism)
It's getting better, so much better
2nd man:
Don't have no worries, don't have no frets,
My little number never failed me yet.
Everyone:
It's getting better, so much better
Naive woman:
I love convenience, I said, it's so keen
He took our money mess, and he swept it clean
He's the wisest man this world has seen
It's getting better... better
2nd man:
Take my groceries and put 'em in the sack,
No checks, no cash, don't give me no flack.
Everyone:
(It's getting better, so much better
2nd man:
Don't have no worries, don't have no frets,
My little number never failed me yet.
Everyone:
It's getting better, so much better... better... better
Somebody stamp me!
Another song from the seventies (dating myself) is by Larry Norman. It talks about a leader who all respect, who promises all, but instead enslaves us.
In the midst of the war he offered us peace,
He came like a lover from out of the east
With the face of an angel and the heart of a beast,
His intentions were six sixty six.
He walked up to the temple with gold in his hand,
And he bought off the priests and propositioned the land,
And the world was his harlot and lay in the sand,
While the band played six sixty six.
We served at his table and slept on the floor,
But he starved us and beat us and nailed us to the door.
Well, I'm ready to die, I can't take any more,
And I'm sick of his lies and his tricks.
He told us he loved us, that was a lie,
There was blood in his pockets and death in his eyes.
Well my number is up, and I'm ready to die,
If the band will play six
If the band will play six sixty
If the band will play six sixty six.
The Eagles album, Long Road out of Eden has these prophetic words:
Moon shining down through the palms
Shadows moving on the sand
Somebody whispering the 23rd Psalm
Dusty rifle in his trembling hands
Somebody trying just to stay alive
He got promises to keep
Over the ocean in America
Far away, the master sleeps
Silent stars blinking in the blackness of an endless sky
Gold, silver satellites, ghostly caravans passing by
Galaxies unfolding and new worlds being born
Pilgrims and prodigals creeping toward the dawn
And it's a long road out of Eden
Music blasting from an SUV
On a bright and sunny day
Rolling down the interstate
In the good old USA
Having lunch at the petroleum club
Smoking fine cigars and swapping lies
They say, "Give me 'nother slice of that barbecued brisket
Give me 'nother piece of that pecan pie"
Freeways flickering; cell phones chiming a tune
We're riding to Utopia; road map says we'll be arriving soon
Captains of the old order clinging to the reins
Assuring us these aches inside are only growing pains
But it's a long road out of Eden
Back home, I was so certain; the path was very clear
But now I have to wonder - what are we doing here?
And I'm not counting on tomorrow and I can't tell wrong from right
But I'd give anything to be there in your arms tonight
Weaving down the American highway
Through the litter and the wreckage, and the cultural junk
Bloated with entitlement, bloated on propaganda
Now we're driving dazed and drunk
Went down the road to Damascus, the road to Mandalay
Met the ghost of Caesar on the Appian Way
He said, "It's hard to stop this binging once you get a taste
But the road to empire is a bloody, stupid waste"
Behold the bitten apple, the power of the tools
But all the knowledge in the world is of no use to fools
And it's a long road out of Eden
Kerry Livgren, formally of Kansas, wrote this song, released on the "Art of the State" CD.
"Progress"
(Kerry Livgren)
So they say it's getting better now,
And we're climbing ever higher up the scale
Soon controlling all conceivable solutions,
No one notices that all our efforts fail.
Progress, we are marching backward
Progress, as the captains of our fate
Progress, as we spiral downward
Progress, we defile and we desecrate
Calculating every possible obstruction,
Have to sacrifice a few along the way
Devolution from genetic degradation,
Seperation from Creator brought decay.
Progress, we are marching backward
Progress, as the captains of our fate
Progress, as we spiral downward
Progress, we destroy and we annihilate
Ideologies, moralities are passé,
It's said the concept of religion's obsolete
Something's missing in our picture of the future,
It seems our latest observations' incomplete.
Progress, we are marching backward
Progress, as the captains of our fate
Progress, as we spiral downward
Progress, we entangle and we complicate.
I could go on, and I may continue later, but this is getting long right now. Just something I was thinking about after reading many thoughts in comments, and posts. -SN
