Monday, March 25, 2013

The Final Battle

Obama administration State of the Union address
   A co-worker hummed a tune to me, not remembering where it was from this morning around 5:59am in passing.  He thought it might have been a classic-rock offering.  Certainly it sounds like it might be from The Eagles' album "One of These Nights".  I had barely remembered it was from V The Final Battle TV series in 1984.  I remember when V and V The Final Battle came out.  America pretty much stopped during these showings and nothing else was watched.  At school it was discussed by the teachers, the principal, etc.  It was a pretty big deal.  Back in 1983/84 we watched about all of 3 channels with PBS being a distant fourth option (though I got my British fix from there, and the dry, wry humor of Monty Python's Flying Circus and Benny Hill not to mention early, useful Sesame Street and other more obscure, homebrew shows).

  Still, sci-fi, particularly in the '80s was a big deal.  There was a bit of a '50s upbeat revival in the '80s, at least by way of theme and attitude, and the '50s was chock-full of some okay sci-fi flicks (and, arguably, some pretty bad ones too, sorry Ed Wood).

  The show, V, was about how alien visitors would come to Earth and coerce us to think they're friendly but weren't quite so much with alterior motives.  It was revisioned recently on the SyFy channel (aka SciFi channel) with Firefly's Morena Baccarin and an ongoing cameo of the original "hive mother" from the '80s show towards the end.  Sadly, like all cool things, it was canceled (the original was just a 1 week miniseries, something that doesn't exist these days.)  Some good miniseries back then were Shogun, Roots, and of course, V.  There were several, but the mini-series V shut-down America for a week.  It was on every neighbor's TV.  I remember seeing it walking down the street through their windows and sure enough, it was on.


  So, enjoy the theme song.  It's pretty cool, and gives a nice ominous "doom" feeling. I'd say it was inspired by John Carpenter's work that he had done previously. The show was pretty heavy for its time.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

America is Bankrupt


Well, financially, the country is in a bind.  Full-bore democrats are in a glazed denial as they bury their heads in iPhones smoking weed (bread & circuses) and politician smiles salve over economic wounds pretty effectively, and the demoness Robin Meade does it with a cute, nose-crinkled smile and giggle.  I've learned to hate Robin Meade as she detracts from real-world events, such as Syria using chemical weapons (aka mass-destruction, kids) on their own people by way of Scud Missiles or North Korean nukes ready to light up the night sky (easily reaching California techniques to the delight of Russian "president/gangster" Putin who will undoubtedly "send his condolences" and "condemn" such actions "officially" as LA sinks into it's own radioactive juices).  Stupid hippies.  (Note* only Californian hippies are stoopid, but that's historical).

  Regardless of Colorado's X-Treme Democrat moves recently, the world hasn't quite ended.  Heavier gun-control, gay marriage, and marijuana sales (all to be offered at your local 7-11 very VERY soon) don't phase me directly yet.  Eventually it will make my own contractor job very valuable, as Lockheed doesn't allow its employees to be drug users and tests for such.  I'm thinking pay-raise, babe.  Yep.  Weed-out (ahem) the competition easily.  On a good note, we'll see more chicks making out at Safeway food stores, and that's pretty cool.  I'll just watch by the produce section with a trench coat, thanks, making odd, short gestures and .. oh, I'm being escorted out?

  America is morally bankrupt though.  I find TV has caught up with the masses finally in the same clever way it has shaped the '70s and '80s.  The show All in the Family, The Jeffersons, Good Times, Alice, Knight Rider, The A-Team (I could go on), affected Americans on a medulla oblon-gotta level.  In the '70s, prejudice was rampant even still, though there was an American significant historical change beginning.  Archie Bunker's lampoonish depiction of a bigot made us laugh at his foolishness, which cleverly made us laugh subconsciously at what he believed in.  Over time, his bigotry over several several seasons waned.  The medicine was administered and America slowly took it and the show changed a nation.  It wasn't that good a show, but it was what was on.  With 3 channels to choose, America was dialed-in and we took it and we were programmed by its programming.  Luckily, it was a good thing (good thing... good thing.. good thing.. for the greater good.. for the greater good...[drool, glazed]).   Hate against melanin is a bit silly (a bit silly... a bit silly..) honestly.  Acceptance of other opinions and ways of life promotes an overall peace (peace.. peace..)  It affected us and we obliged.  Similar shows also succeeded in their mission.

 Once Americans accepted this, '80s moral-based structure subliminally seeped-in.  Shows all had a moral compass showing us magnetic north like Knight Rider and Family Ties.  Straglers were given The Cosby Show for dessert and Saved by the Bell, just to make sure some of the late-bloomers of the baby-boomers got a taste of the moral-medicine, and it worked.

Amber really likes cocaine.

  Money became more of a focus though, and sensationalism was more key.  Morality shows devolved into court-drama shows and medical-horror-prime-time events where morality was questioned but usually kept like Chicago Hope, E.R., Street Legal etc.  A few "what do I get" shows started to satire the darker side of life, such as Married..With Children (which I blame for the fall of the morality of American civilization as it was misunderstood) and a few others, catering to the neutral-evil people who were very self-absorbed.  Originally, the show was to despair such antics, but some it became their clarion call, not laughed-at or despaired but actually admired.  This was a problem.

  Hollywood TV execs played off of this immorality choice with shows like Friends and Seinfeld, devolving further into the wrong-side of human nature slightly.  I meet younger folks who reminisce with the '90s but it was a changing-time against morality and I generally abhor it.  A few shows kept the torch like Star Trek Next Generation where morality was a focus, but even the character "William Riker" satisfied the American compass-180 as a self-absorbed "I come first" leader of sorts.

  By the turn of the millennium, reality shows were quite popular, the majority showing shocking selfishness and "what do I get" and "how do I screw over everyone else to succeed" themes.  Evil concepts with evil moral choices like Survivor were king.  The show C.O.P.S. showed villains and TV focused on the infidelities of Hollywood actors in detail.  Popular were scripted talk-shows where the fake visitors would have very evil, selfish lifestyles.  America was inundated with immorality.  It was sometimes fun to watch, but over time, tons and tons of it started to seep-in through the cracks.  Eventually, it melted into our moral fiber.  TV devolved us.  The onslaught was inescapable.  Some channels like ABC Family raged against it, but for naught.  It was too late.

  TV now is almost entirely self-absorbed neutral-evil teachings.  I escaped thanks to Netflix, jumping instead in the early 2000's to try movies from other decades and seeing the morality attempts and such of other years before I was born, keeping a clever eye on it and seeing the subtext.  Fun ride, actually.  I stopped my TV service, cable, Dish Network, etc., around 2005 utterly, barely watching it from 2002 to 2005 at all. 

 Does this make me a cave-man hermit?  Well, perhaps (I do have body hair and no, I'm not emo-shaving it all off like a b*tch), but less affected by the subliminal messages and being controlled by TV like so many others.  There are good shows on, here and there.  Some are entertaining enough.  A few guilty pleasures is the suddenly popular Big Bang Theory and the now final season of The Office lampoon against such neutral-evil tendencies which is now a rarity.  South Park and Family Guy also do so in an animated style, though McFarlane tends to have a strong Democratic liberal agenda, I can put the peas asside on my plate, accepting his opinion without being swayed.  I'm not like most Americans where if I'm told a rhyme in an entertaining way by a comedian with a canned laugh-track I can decide if it's true or not on my own.  I'm not a sucker-victim to "if da glove don't fit, you must acquit" rhyme "Chewbacca Defense".  Yeah, I made my saving-throw.  America did not, however, because they voted Obama.  Suckers.  I expect an HP Lovecraftian Elder god to appear any minute now.  'Till then, I'll watch reruns of Firefly.

Don't be swayed, kids. Make your own opinions and have a moral compass.  Don't do drugs, and be cool, stay in school).


Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The Check's in the Mail

 Sold my Saturn Sky Redline on Friday.  All the paperwork and payment to GMAC (now Ally Financial due to the bankruptcy) was taken care of on 4 March.  They've supposedly mailed-out the title, lien-release form, and overage amount from the buyer (not all at once) to me, but, as they say, "The check is in the mail." 

  I sold it because I sort of fell out of love with the car.  Things just didn't work out, and Corvettes are looking nicer and nicer these days; better to fight Evil with.  I make-out on insurance too.  I'll save a few hundred dollars a month on top of my $700/mo. car payment.  Make for some nice summer breathing-room.  An extra grand a month is gonna be great for a while, until I get the 'Vette; then it'll be back to the same grind.  'Till then, I'll be able to pay-off just about anything else scratching at my door and be debt-free (except for the house loan, I pay that off in the year 4545).
  Ah, to wait and wait and wait.  $5k is pretty significant a sum, well at least for me anyway.  Honestly, it doesn't matter for GMAC.  They got their money.  The paperwork is an afterthought for them, and the check for the overage (I made-out $5k on the sale) they'll certainly take their sweet time on.  10 business days?  More like 20.  "It's in the mail."  Sigh.

  You know, we ourselves have used that line a few times in our existence, from griping collection agencies, utilities (who end up being not so nice about things).  In this cyber-digital age, it's weird to sometimes be slave to snail mail, but there it is, and we still use the same archaic form of vernacular that's almost unrealistic now.  I can transfer funds from one place to another with a few keystrokes (some methods more secure than others, but none less secure than the threat of tampering with the US Mail Service oh no!)  Unless there's Cerberus guarding the parcel, it's about as unsecured as possible if you think about it.

  So still I wait, and I get that age-old line, "The Check's in the Mail".  Indeed.

..really?  You looked all the way down her gamms?  Shame on YOU!  Tsk.

Monday, March 18, 2013

More Ado About Nothing

  So the assailant's insurance "Farmer's" has denied the claim against my car  (see Much Ado About Nothing blog).  Thing is, the guy "Dennis Feller" in the baby-blue Mercury Grand Marquis with the "designer plate" of 656-FXO that backed-up into me didn't know that he did it, because he's old and unaware of his surroundings (you know, those Q-Tip types that shouldn't be on the road). 

Farmer's Insurance Agent says since it's therefore his word against mine, he's not at fault.  I mentioned the damage on his rear quarter-panel where he smeared my teddy-bear-hamster gall-bladder of a car is pretty apparent, but that was shrugged off.  Indeed, all four corners of his vehicle are damaged pretty well, meaning his sea-biscuit of a car has smashed others before.  Honestly, a dangerous scourge of destruction on the road.  He gets off scott-free whereas I pay-up $250 and now potentially have my insurance go up.

  I'm going to check with the on-base Security Forces kids to see if we were on surveillance (I'm pretty sure we were) as evidence, though I'm not sure how long they'd keep it on-file, as it's been 3 weeks now.  If I were a clever SF Squadron, at the time of the incident I'd keep that hour on-file for a year, but these guys couldn't print out the claimant form necessary because Microsoft Windows 7 was too hard for them.  I suspect I'm screwed due to incompetency from them as well as my insurance by Geico for not ordering the surveillance video.

  I wonder if "Dennis Feller" is aware of this, or if the insurance agent is crafty to get him out of it.  I recommend everyone get Farmer's Insurance because they're very smart at getting around things to avoid paying-up.  This Dennis fellow probably wasn't aware of his crime, sure.  I suspect not.  I suspect he drives around murdering folks all the time like Mr.Magoo in his jalopy.  I doubt he means malice, just a tool for God to crush things.  I guess I needed a crushing.  Thanks God.

  On a more melancholy note, I watched my Saturn Sky Redline go bye-bye due to a reasonable sale to a Texan USAF CMSgt who had flown-up to buy 'er.  I had the car in immaculate condition, to include detailing the hoses under the hood and even the unexposed leather under the seat.  Pretty perfect.  Interestingly, she had said she ran her through a carwash and had to clean out the inside after 3 days of ownership, which I found odd, though a 1700 mile drive to Texas with a 10 year old kid in-tow could probably do that I guess.  Snacks and all in cramped-quarters for 20 hours can do it.  I'll try not to linger on the thought.  I'm one of those guys that laments a speck of dust on the dash when I notice it and it'll bug me until it's taken care of (though not to the danger of driving, I might swipe at it waiting at a traffic light though if there's a lot of time sitting there).  Fly in the ointment syndrome.

  My Thing Ring guitar pedal board is full-up, and I have a few orphan pedals that aren't invited to the party.  I need to rethink the setup and remove some I never use until my style changes.  I have a Brian May Red Special Pedal that plays great Queen songs, but I never really play a lot of Queen so it sits aside.  One rule is to not have pedals in a chain that aren't used as it degrades the signal.  I think I have 14 of 'em going, with 4 more not included in the mix, as well as a few rack units in-line for other effects and pre-amplification.  I found the Digitech Death Metal pedal to be very noisy though it has true-bypass (thankfully).  I paid $19 for it.  Though it went for $129 new, it's probably worth $9 even with the box.  A Rocktron Silver Dragon distortion is coming-in, as well as a Boss Space Dimension D, both are quite boutique, the former a pedal similar to one I had in 1993 that I miss by the same company, though this version has a nice 12AX7 vacuum tube in it that gets nicely saturated when used (and replaceable, and there's a whole religion on vacuum tube replacements btw).  I'm quite fond of the Tesla JJ-Electronic ones.

  Rode my Ninja 250R today.  Haven't changed the oil yet from last season.  I suspect I'll do it tomorrow.  Bike was hesitant.  The jets are gummed from sitting all winter.  A few miles and some Sea Foam additive will fix that right up.  Nimble.  I make it a point to not ride until St.Patrick's Day.  Several mods waiting to be installed on the garage floor, lighter chain, rearsets, suspension dampener, a soon-to-arrive carbon-fiber exhaust, larger carburetor jets.  Riding was little hard on the wrists from the suspension angle adjustments I had made and the Woodcraft lowering handlebars last year.  Sand is everywhere.  I suspect a lot of folks bit it today and yesterday.  Nice weather for riding.  Bad roads for turning.  I was vigil in braking before sand and turning like a Harley "pussy" rider like one would turn a pedal bike, physically turning the handlebars under 10mph instead of leaning-in at 45mph.  Yeah, I'm pretty awesome.. 

  Not awesome enough for evading insurance lawyer trickery though.  Still, a good St.Patrick's Day despite my insomnia.  The bacon-infused gouda-pocketed cheeseburger with Guinness and whiskey BBQ sauce I made was decent enough, and Alfred Hitchcock's Lifeboat was decent.

  Still, despite all of this, I have no malice myself towards "Dennis the Menace".  I considered some sort of revengence but abstained, remembering the Karma from My Name is Earl concept.  I'll just back-off.  Things could be worse than better, and it's nice to not have a car-payment anymore.  Hopefully that title will come in the mail in the next few days, and the payment overage as well from GMAC for the Saturn Sky sale which in-turn will pay for my restored Saturn Astra XR "Escape Pod" car, which will eliminate any vehicle payments at all for the summer.  Corvette on the horizon.

That's it.  Ciao. 

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Pornographer's Dream

  Suzanne Vega hasn't been especially popular, possibly because most of the lyrics are generally cerebral, and despite clever chord progressions and neo-folk abilities it makes Americans' heads hurt, "I do thing!  Dahhh!" (drooling).

   Still, her work is to be marvelled.  She had one major mainstream hit, Luka, which was about child abuse but a very impressive guitar riff, particularly at the end with nice sevenths added in there, hammering on and off.  I just loved that ending riff.  So passionate!

   In the UK she fared a little better with minor hits like Marlene On the Wall about the exploits of Marlene Deitrich and her cruel intimacies, clever and autobiographical (good luck American kids dealing with that now), and Caramel from the soundtrack of the mediocre movie, The Truth About Cats and Dogs which comes off as a lounge jazz '40s gig like the film Dark City with Jennifer Connelly singing Sway, as well as a hit from Pretty In Pink called Left of Center.  She was sampled heavily as a right-of-passage for rappers with Tom's Diner by just about every decent rap artist that exists today, and if you hear the ditty, you'll know it.

  Arguably, her first, rather raw and tender album which included Freeze Tag and The Soldier and the Queen as well as Marlene was quite moving in poetry form, spoken-word folk.  Suzanne is not a pretty woman, per se.  Not really attractive at all.  She doesn't have that pizazz that sells records. She's not vampy, nor hot, but a bit plain, and I kind of like that.  Most of all, she's not fake.  She writes all her stuff and plays guitar on all of it too, and not like the guitar is a prop like so many fakers these days.  She really is the only guitarist, so kudos to her.

  An album I sort of liked but never bought (shame) is Crime and Beauty which came out in 2007.  Some of it smacks of the band Garbage, particularly the song, Frank & Ava which has a particular Shirley Manson feel that's a bit elusive to coin, dark and yet upbeat, but the real star for me is Pornographer's Dream.  Somehow it comes off as both jazz and wistful, particularly the chorus, and the lyrics are pretty darn brilliant an angle.  I submit to you for your intellectual consideration, dear reader (and for our mutual pleasure):

"She's a pornographer's dream", he said.  I knew what he meant;
but it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have that hadn't been spent.
Would he still dream of the thigh, the flesh upon-high what he saw so much of ?
Wouldn't he dream of the thing that he never could quite get the touch of ?

It's out of his hands, over his head, out of his reach, under this real life.
Hidden in veils. Covered in silk. Dreaming of what might be. 
It's out of his hands, over his head, out of his reach, under this real life.
Hidden in veils.  Dreaming of mystery.

Bettie Page is still the rage with her legs and leather.
She turns to tease the camera, and please us at home.. and we let her.
Who's to know what she'll show of herself, in what measure?
If what she reveals or what she conceals is the key to our pleasure?

 It's out of our hands, over our heads, out of our reach, under this real life.
Hidden in veils. Covered in silk. Dreaming of what might be.
It's out of our hands, over our heads, out of our reach, under this real life.
Hidden in veils. Dreaming of mystery.
Under this real life.  Dreaming of what might be.
Under this real life.  Dreaming of mystery.

"She's a pornographer's dream", he said.  I knew what he meant;
and it made me imagine what kind of a dream he would have?

  There's a little whisper of "have" at the end of the song, just to add to it, particularly noticeable with headphones, to "suggest" a little.  The song is cleverly done and dissolves into a dream-like trance about 3/4ths of the way through until the end when Suzanne snaps-you-back to the original question, as if you were on a daydream journey.  There's a tinge of sadness in the song too, and a longing, the whisper at the end eludes to hope of a dream fulfilled, someday.
  Now I'm no pervert (well, not more so than any other guy) but I can appreciate the depth involved and the masterful work here of the emotion attempted to evoke and the journey presented.   It's a pretty song, really.  Wistful and sweet, about dreams.  

  You, Suzanne, I dub thee a Master Bard, for you have succeeded in provocation, motion, and entrancement, and I find I can't not listen to the song twice.  Well done, and bravo.

What Bards Can Do

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Much Ado About Nothing

  Last week in the parking lot of Schriever AFB, while I was warming up my little Saturn Astra (with an engine the size of an hamster's gall bladder it takes a bit) (which I've dubbed "The Escape Pod" for all it's worth) a boat of a car which I believed to be a '90s baby-blue Ford Crown Victoria (which is about 12 football lengths long in all it's V8 glory) sloooooowly backup into me and continued to back up through me.  Kitty Pryde was not driving, unfortunately.

    Now, in his defense, it had just snowed pretty darn good, so for all he knew, I was a tiny snow flake.  Veeerrrrrry slowly he kept smooshing me while I leaned on the horn, and I did not want smoosh smoosh..  After a minute or so I got out and shouted right next to the guy to perhaps cease and desist, but then the old geezer popped his automatic into drive and .. well, as one would do with being in "Drive", did so, and left. 

  Despite it being 5:50 am and having worked a midshift for 12 hours plus, and it being dark, I mentally jotted down his license plate and ran back to my car to write it down, as well as the model, make, and probable year, and then sped after him to the gate guard to inform the little 18-year-old tween-cops of the incident.  This process took an hour in their shack and they couldn't figure out how to print the required documents because Microsfot Office is elusive to some.  I gave them all the info and went home in disgust. 

  Geico insisted I had to pay the deductible of $250 until they found the culprit.  Local police said it was out of their jurisdiction since it was on-base.  I'm trapped to the "abilities" of on-base kid-cops level 0.  After a week, despite all the information I gave 'em, they couldn't figure it out.  Geico said there's no Ford Crown Vic with that license plate number.  I suggested it might be a different state than Colorado as since on-base there's lots of out-of-towners and they continued to search.  The kid-cops level zero also couldn't find anyone

   On the morning of the event one week and one day later, I saw the car again!  Turns out the car is a blue Mercury Grand Marquis and not a Ford Crown Victoria.  They share the same platform, so it's honestly an easy mistake, the only distinguishing marks between the two before Ford eliminated the brand was the emblem on the rear center being the more modern Mercury symbol and not the blue-oval, hand-written Ford logo.  I informed the kid cops and Geico and then they found the car within 15 minutes.  Ugh.  I then put a note on the Mercury's windshield explaining what had happened and that he should inform the kid-cops and my insurance.

  My Astra only got some paint removal which is being repaired right now ($680 of paint, impossibly, which would paint 5 cars if I had gone to Maaco) and should be back to new in a day or so.  Geico let me know that it'll take time for his insurance to pay-up the deductible of $250.  I suspect 20 years.  I blame Obama.


Friday, March 1, 2013

Future Tense

In response to a video I sent him from the band Sanctuary from the album Into the Mirror Black the song "Future Tense", a friend writes,

"Kind of makes me feel like all the good songs done been wrote, you know? It's all one big cycle of been there, done that, reset, redo, repeat."

 I had sent him the lyrics because the album was released in 1989 and one of the lines was, "what will the '90s hold?" which is slightly amusing.  The song was rather intense about the dangers of the future and the corruption of America with a tinge of disaster in it, as if the 1990's might spell doom for all mankind. 

What do you see on the news when you watch TV?
War in the name of God, or a playground killing spree?
Politicians promise you the world, and a preacher cries.
All he ever wanted was your money, and a bitch on the side.
What went wrong?  Did society twist him?

What do you see in the center of the public eye?
Rock-stars on smack, and a serial-killer fries.
Radicals blame suicide and murder on our form of art.
Brainwash the youth, you know they claim we all play a part.
What a shame that they can't think for themselves.

Past-tense to future-tense let history unfold.
So ends a decade now what will the '90s hold?
You know we're verging on the edge of an Age,
Then another century will turn the page.

What do you think they will say when they look back on this?
Were the '80s  just a time of spoiled innocence?
We leave our legacy like dust in the Sands of Time.
Let's hope the seeds we plant can carry the weight of our crimes.

We sail an ocean, a Sea of Doubt.
Skeptics make no sense, can't work things out.
I'll choose optimism, scream its name.
Look to the future, a burning flame.
(obligatory '80s solo)
Turn the page...

  So, the work is no Bob Dylan, and there's some trip-ups in the meter and rhyme and it struggles at-times.  It's the band's sophomoric work and was a huge step from their previous material.  Still, Sanctuary didn't fare well as the '90s shunned the guitar virtuoso for low-fi, whiny, soft-punk works of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Stone Temple Pilots from Seattle.

  Well, sometimes I think that way too, that all music's been written lyrically, but it's not the case!  A lot of folks thought that when Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkle were belting out folk songs in the '60s. They were some pretty gosh darn good lyrics. Some people thought that around that time all the possible song combinations in notes was already used-up. These fears occurred and were voiced in the '50s, '60s, '70s and late '80s but were refreshed by surprisingly new waves of music concepts for each decade. The '90s was a rehash of '70s though, and the last 13 years has been generally pretty vapid in my opinion, mostly due to fat-cat lazy-lifestyles. Since 1990, life has been pretty un-strife-ridden for Americans. I was hoping that Obama's reign of power would create enough of an economic downfall that it'd shake things up enough to inspire some really good music. Unemployment at around 8% should've done it, stopped the production of SUVs and trucks and rocked everything from its foundation, but the "naughts" just held tighter to their iPhones and 11mpg Nissan Armadas and Starbucks coffee-ish drinks instead of abandoning things. I found that really weird, as if fat Americans had found their comfort-zone and refused to budge. Not enough of a shake-up I guess. With gas prices being ridiculous, I suspected gas-lines as well, but it never happened, and I can't figure out why not. Instead, somehow people scrape enough money to get the whole stupid thing to work and refuse to budge. Aside from a mild invasion of an evolution of emo music and techno getting a leg-up with a very mild variation of itself called dub-step (sort of the disco of this generation), there's been nothing new or fresh in, well, anything. No 2010 wave of sudden change of music such as the '40s through the '80s. No change at all, as if America has defined itself and has become stubborn to change. In accordance with the prophesies of St.Malachy the current Pope has since evaporated from his job and no one really cares that much (as opposed to if this happened in 1960, where stocks would crumble and the whole World would be freaking out, mass-suicides, claimed visions, etc.)
 I think there's a fresh wave of music style and lyrics on the horizon, possibly from an unknown source in the same way no one saw Seattle being a big music deal in the '90s or Britain being such in the '60s and again in the '80s to a lesser degree. Who knows, maybe we'll all be rockin'-out to J-Pop or Chinese metal, or Australia might have a popularity resurgence as from the '80s? Those fresh, untapped arenas might give-way to new concepts and ideas America is not used-to, not to mention Middle-Eastern or India philosophy. They got guitars there too!
Lyrically, things might seem burned-up, but sometimes that scorched-Earth soil is the best medium for fresh growth of botanical music.