27 July 2014

Chez Ogg's Paleo Menu

Welcome to Chez Ogg! Chef de cuisine Ogg Urggghock welcomes you! I'll be your server, my name is Jacques!

Tonight, for starters, we have a lovely Woolly Mammoth app from our Paleolithic menu. It is served on a bed of Giant Fern and pairs nicely with a Ginkgo Biloba martini. 

If you are Mammoth-intolerant, we have Pleistocene Mastodon prepared with a Stemonitis Fusca slime mold and blanched Lycopodium (common name Club Moss).

We also have a delicious semi-extinct Coelacanth from the Deep Madagascar Trench. 

In our Precambrian short menu, we are please to offer a Chez Ogg first!  Rock-star gastronimie de genetique, Jacques Viz-a-Vichyssoise has created a fully cloned Giant Mollusk hailing from 540 mille-mille-de-B.C., which serves twenty (gratuity included). It is, of course, served on a bed of deep-ice-core slices with a Stromatolite garnish. 

Mon Dieu! Garçon!  Bring a clean flint hand-axe immediately for monsieur!

And the Jurassic special tonight... we have shaved Pterodactyl egg au fossile.

Bon Appétit!

05 March 2014

Song Lyrics: Bought Myself a Flower

Yes I'm feeling so much better 'cuz I bought myself a flower
I bought myself a flower 'cuz I had a shitty corporate day
I was feeling kinda dirty gettin paid by the hour
by a startup that might as well be the NSA

So I went out on a walk
bought some farmers-market kale
a bag of orange cuties
saw some tulips blowing kisses
so I bought myself a flower
and I took myself to dinner
and I drank a bottle of wine
and now I'm feeling fine

Yes I'm feeling really great
'cuz I make a great date
even bought myself a flower.

[copyright (c) 2014 Laramie Crocker]

10 November 2013

Song Lyrics: Attitude

Attitude
           copyright (c) 2013 Laramie Crocker
===============================================


I'm gettin Attitude
from a fat dude
in a wheelchair
a motorized kill-chair
feeding,
speeding,
not heeding where my feet go

And a yuppie in a bronco
runs me over in the cross-walk, Yo!

And a yuppie with a cheese-roll
cutting me in line
swinging his baguette
like a machete

I'm getting run over
by a double-wide baby stroller
double-wide baby stroller moms is two-fistin
latte and a capuccino

I'm stepping over bodies of the mentally insane
the lady with the latte is getting deranged


CHORUS:
    And every time I say I hate this town
    And every time I say I'm gonna burn it down
    down to the ground
    to the ground ground ground

    she says: Go and build a garden
    dig it in the ground, ground
 
    Go and build a garden
    dig it in the ground, ground
 
    put your hands in the Earth
    put your hands in the ground, ground
 
    and praise a strawberry
    put it in your mouth
    mother earth, hail mary

    put your hands in the earth
    put your hands in the ground, ground
    dig it in the ground

Neck to neck on the train
skully's lookin in my brain
everybody's on their phone
no one lookin where they're going
and the people getting fatter
and my blood's getting hotter
like the planet
I can't stand it

I try to go to the health club
old lady in a hot tub
givin me the underwater elbow
the rage is just below the surface
the rage is just below the surface


CHORUS:
    And every time I say I hate this town
    And every time I say I'm gonna burn it down
    down to the ground
    to the ground ground ground

    she says: Go and build a garden
    dig it in the ground, ground
 
    Go and build a garden
    dig it in the ground, ground
 
    put your hands in the Earth
    put your hands in the ground, ground
 
    and praise a strawberry
    put it in your mouth
    mother earth, hail mary
 
    put your hands in the earth
    put your hands in the ground, ground
    dig it in the ground

08 October 2013

Redneck Monk Sez

Every advice you hear for other people inside your head,
or rules for other people that you imagine telling or enforcing,
are
for
YOU.

They are also
for you
to
poop
on.

--Finbar, the redneck monk
   (from the upcoming Anarchia.us cartoon)

16 August 2013

Big Brother Obama

Winston Smith sat as his lappy, typing words he knew Big Brother would read, archive, data-mine and pore over for as long as the NSA's Intelligence Community Comprehensive National Cybersecurity Initiative Data Center, sometimes called the Utah Data Center, or Minitruth, in Newspeak, was in existence.  Comrade Obama had declared that Minitruth would be dedicated to protecting Americans, and would be open to scrutiny and review by the party faithful.  How he loved Brother Obama!  He had voted for Brother Obama, of course, as did every freedom-loving blue-stater.  When Brother Obama spoke of freedom and security, Winston's heart swelled.  He did not give thought to stop-and-frisk needed to thwart terrorists, or the other implements of freedom: national ID cards, Stand-your-ground laws, persecution of whistleblowers, full-body searches at airports--for to question these things would surely lead to a visit in the middle of the night by the FBI, commonly known as the Thought Police.

[In case you think I'm some kind of Obama-hater, here's my posts from 2009, after I voted for the Obama-bot: 

http://laramiecrocker.blogspot.com/2009/01/yesterday-i-was-working-with-my-friend.html

http://laramiecrocker.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-model-politican-obama2008.html ]

31 July 2013

Don't trust the white man!

Don't trust the white man!
That man with all the power
he can drop a war
just like that
just by bein white.
Shit.  Don't LET a black man be President.
They won't let that happen.
You said.
You said it was cuz of white men that we had this shit.
But now, a black man is President,
and it is same shit,
different day.
Because, cuz, it is power that begets power.
And when power wants to look white, it looks white
when it wants to look black, it looks black.
These men, these actors.

Maybe we can forget about divisions
like white and black
like religion
like conservative and liberal
like republican and democrat.

That war, that Vietnam war.
Blame Nixon!
Blame Johnson!
Blame Kennedy
Blame Ike
Blame Truman.
Yes.  You have to go that far back.
All those beloved Presidents.
All those warmongering motherfuckers
And that's just one of the wars they brought.
It wasn't them, it was us, what bought it.
Maybe we were following the marketing
of the rich and powerful.  Maybe we wanted it.

We don't have to *ask* the government nicely to stop the NSA.
As long as "We" is a majority, We can make them
do what we want, or we have the right to revolt.
It's in the Constitution.


25 June 2013

A Spy in the House of Mobile


It's a rainy day in Berkeley, as I set out from my garden, into the flower-laden streets of NorthB.  I have to leave the ferns and dripping beaks of the Birds of Paradise to enter the maw of the Beast.  Into his chthonic BART tunnel, through the billboarded piss-hallways, through the throngs and trophy parks and the screaming streets, into the screaming office, to sit in a row at my desk for the next nine hours.

So far, I'm passing fairly well.  Had my Giants hat already for the team outing to PacBell Park.  As part of my job requirement, I must participate in Skype chat (text only) all day.  Response times over a few minutes are called out.  Sometimes required conversations must take place in real time, talking by typing, to a group of engineers all sitting around the same table.  Everyone is typing, and suddenly, out of nowhere, everyone is cracking up, synchronized, and you have to jump on chat and catch up.  I haven't quite gotten to the point of fitting in well in chat.  I might need to post some cat videos.

I'm in the House of Mobile to learn the secrets from the inside.  To understand how marketers, and business men think.  To understand how someone can have a passion for Advertising.  To me, Advertising is the mark of the Beast, maybe even the Devil himself.  Born and raised in Berkeley, right here in NorfB.  I want to have a world where we all contribute content for free or micropayments, or *something* without ads.  Which makes me either a hypocrite or a rebel.  Pass the stogie, brother, it's been a long day.

27 June 2013
Overheard: "Well, they're a non-profit, so if they aren't in it for profit, I don't know what their motives are, so I can't trust them."

I like the 99% thing.  I want to be 99% faithful.  Hey, that's like three days a year...

03 April 2013

Seen in downtown S.F April 1, 2013

April 1 seen in downtown S.F. : A man with his "unit" in a knitted sock dangling between his legs to the ground, in half of a cut-up suit and tie, with exactly half his body exposed (the left half) and a sign that said "Sale, half-off"; A vintage 70's mint green Country Squire station wagon... with giant ghetto wheels (rimsos) cruisin'; And at Yerba Buena, two giant roll-off dumpster containers re-purposed as art installation with built in park benches and yucca plants; And the Twelve Gallaxies guy's sign is now in Cyrillic script. Sorry I didn't bring a camera, y'all. Just another normal day in S.F.

10 March 2013

Food Sovereignty -- what if Ask versus Make creates Trust?

I had some thoughts after reading these two posts that separately appeared on facebook:









Food safety might be related to trust. Do you trust your neighbor when he says his Vermont maple syrup is organic? Do you trust some mega-corporation when it says "All Natural"? Now, Vermont (my state half the year) has very strict maple syrup regulations to support the participating farmers. But the fact is, I could wander over and say "Paul, are there any chemicals you use, etc." I can't do that with a giant food corp. I must rely on government to make them compliant.

In her talk on TED, Amanda Palmer says we should Ask rather than Make. I'm relating these two posts ("Food Sovereignty" and "The Art of Asking") because Ask works over Make, when you Trust. So in Vermont, we trust because the social network is strong in Vermont. It has to be or you die of the freakin cold or the freakin floods.

So I live in Vermont when I can because I trust my neighbors. I can't trust a giant food company being regulate by a giant, distant government, because there's lots of documented problems with government not really checking for diseases at slaughterhouses, government allowing shady business practices of trans-shipping food from China through Mexico so it skirts some regulation, Government allowing genetically modified material into our food stream without warnings, courts upholding the right of mega feed/seed companies to sue farmers for "stealing" copyrighted corn polen that blew onto their farms, and on, and on, and on. In other words, no TRUST.

Maybe if we buy and GROW locally, we'll know where our goddamn food comes from and we can trust, and know, our food is safe. Now--local growers can still elect to go through any certification process (e.g. certified organic) if they feel the stamp of approval will help them with their customers. But being made to do this won't make food any safer, because the "make" implies top down control, which would be fine if "everyone" agreed with the top, e.g. functioning democracy. But when the system gets a bit big and convoluted, maybe smaller, more local, more known, can be more trusted.


[Getting ready for french toast at our Bed-and-Breakfast in Berkeley.  Challah bread: Cheeseboard Collective, Berkeley, California.  Maple-syrup: from our neighbors in Brownsville, Vermont]

20 January 2013

A Week In L.A.

A Week in L.A.  (c) 2013 Laramie Crocker 


Sunset on Berkeley
A Week in this town
is better than sayin 
I'm leaving in May


I'd stayed a year
and another year
I left my other girl
when my brother left his
and her sister said
as she stood in our kitchen
does this idiocy run in the family
in pairs
or is it contagion?


and I took a two-week vacation
once
a week on a cruise to paradise
and back
and a week in LA
a week in LA
that's what was left
seemed better than sayin
I'm stayin til May


and I'm calm under fire
capable of murder
I've taken my own life
but still, here I am
but still, here I am

and I've sold chocolate bars
delivered papers
I've been a carpenter
and I've been a trainer
and now I'm a singer
and I wanna live
and sing every day 
and live my whole life
like a week in LA





18 January 2013

Sir Mick explains all to Oprah

Oprah: So tell me, Sir Mick, are you willing to be totally honest on my show.
Sir Mick: Sure, luv.

O: So did you do it?
SM: Yes, I did.

O: And did your "team" also go along.
SM: Sure, we all did.  I mean, it was the only thing keeping Keith alive.

O: He's alive?
SM: In a way.

O: And how did you avoid the testing?
SM: Well we didn't very well avoid it in Alabama, did we?  I mean, it was part of our image.  People expected it.

O: And did you make your team do it?
SM: Well, I felt just as I told them we should tune up, and practice, aye, that it was my duty to share what I could score with the team.

O: And what about the other bands?
SM: Look, luv, it was Rock'n'Roll.  EVERYONE doped.  I'm not gonna name names, but Floyd, The Doors, The Who, the Grateful Dead, The Mouseketeers, EVERYONE.  Well, not the Monkeys...

O: Not Jerry Garcia--no way!
SM: 'e was a bleeding smokestack on stage.  I don't think I'm going out on a limb here.  I mean, we coulda not doped, but then we'd still be wankers, and the Beatles would still be choir boys, wouldn't they.

O: So there we have the whole truth.  Sir Mick, admitting that the Rolling Stones doped, the Who doped, and most shockingly, and perhaps part of a continuing pattern of coercion, Sir Mick outs the leader of the "Hardest Working Band" as doping as well.  A whole industry, riddled with doping, perhaps even unable to function without it.

07 January 2013

Django Unchained


Hideous Fun. Blaxploitation never felt this good.
Django Unchained is Blaxploitation for good, instead of evil, and it allows the director, Quentin Tarantino, to get away with showing
attrocities on screen that even Roots could not muster.  This movie is serious in the same way that James Clavell writes, in Shogun, that the feudal Japanese attendees laughed after witnessing sepuku, laughing to relieve the social and emotional strain and acknowlege the horror, in a socially acceptable way.  The film is brilliant, funny, outrageous, over the top, post-modern, a blaxploitation spaghetti western complete with soundtrack, an excoriating expose of slavery in this country,  a deep philosophical dive into feeling and living in those awful moments, and an unbelievable riot of a pulp movie.  Tarantino has perfected his game.

--Laramie Crocker
  showdate: 2013-01-14,
  Westwood Village Theater, L.A.

21 December 2012

Reflections on Violence


I've lost a small child.  So I know that if you are experiencing loss now, nothing anyone tries to say to you will make any sense.  I know that compassion and love reached me in the depth of my loss.  So if you are in pain, please accept my love and compassion.

The rest of this post is analysis, so please read on only if you are in a state to receive these thoughts.

Since 2004, I've subscribed to a feed of every syndicated editorial cartoon in the national papers (http://gocomics.com).  This feed gives me a finger on the pulse of the major media that is more incisive than the print stories.  This is the first time since I started subscribing in 2004 that I read the list when every single cartoonist agreed on one thing, and had the same take.  They all editorialized gun control as the solution, or lack of gun control as the problem.  I get cartoonists from left, right, center, and independent.  They have never agreed on anything before.  So clearly, this latest shooting brings out similar thoughts and feelings.

But I can't help but wonder if there isn't an agenda to make us give up our constitutional right to defend ourselves against a government gone security-state.  The NRA exists because many Americans feel passionately about their constitutional right to bear arms, and the right to bear arms that a militia would use.  My mother believed in non-violence.  I have always dismissed the argument that if you were willing to take up arms when the Commies come marching up your own street, you couldn't be a conscientious objector.  I object on conscience to all foreign military adventures because they make us the invaders.  I've defended myself, and I think, despite my non-violent upbringing and my Buddhish nature, that I would take up arms against a corrupt U.S. regime if the Code Red Coup were to happen here.  ( http://ProvisionalAuthority.us )  It's my constitutional right.   I would join with my neighbors, friends, and countrymen, and I would hope that we'd have sufficient weapons to prevail.  No, I don't have a tank, but assault rifles in the hands of Iraqis have sure kept the "Most Powerful Army On Earth" from being victorious in Iraq.  I say this not to piss off American soldiers and their families, but to imagine, for a moment, what it might be like to be Iraqi, stuck between a U.S. supported dictator and the U.S. Army.

On the other hand, I'm not hearing a lot about the causes of our current situation.  I would like to hear more about how we don't offer national healthcare in this country, when all other industrialized nations do.  I would like to hear more about how we don't provide mental health care.  How we don't educate our citizens in Non-Violent Communication (NVC).  NVC was promoted by Ghandi, and the work is carried on today in the most hostile of regions with some success.  I studied with Dr. Marshal Rosenberg ( http://www.cnvc.org/ ), who teaches this method, and he and his co-workers bravely tread into Israel, and Sri Lanka.  But how many school children or adults could tell you what NVC is?  I'd like to hear about how we tolerate violent TV shows, Web ads, Movies.  Have you seen Spiderman?  It's a children's movie.  Up until I realized how dire Romney would be, I was going to abstain from re-electing Obama because of his little robot-speech about how he hunted down and killed Osama bin Laden.  Without a trial.   This country has been on a path for a long time that pointed to the morals of the law of the Wild Wild West.  Every president has sought blood rather than compassion.  So many TV shows make crime sexy, and glorify the masters and minions of the security state.

Ronald Reagan, when he was governor of my state (California), opened the mental wards and just let everyone out, claiming that the state and the people shouldn't have to pay.  Then he rode into washington as an un-apologetic Wild West cowboy, and joked about nuking the Russians out of existence.   ("My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today, that I have signed legislation that would outlaw Russia forerver.  We begin bombing in five minutes." --Ronald Reagan.  On microphone, at a Whitehouse press conference.) Even Hilter was unable to wipe out the Russians, so Reagan was talking about some major kick-ass.  I believe the word is genocide.  Reagan is now revered as a statesman.

I am limping these days.  I broke my toe kicking a BMW who cut me off in a cross walk.  That's how close he was.  I'm Buddhish (means I think Buddhism makes sense, but I can't claim any single belief system) so I consider my broken toe to be a Hard-Zen lesson.  My anger did nothing to this man and his car, but it hurt me.  I live in Berkeley.  I used to carry quarters in my pocket to fling at all the cars that cut me off.   I went through about $1.50 a week.  But, thinking of the damage I've done to my toe, I've sworn off attacking those who trespass against me, as a small step towards non-violence.   For ultimately, our violence comes back to get us.

My mother was manic-depressive.  She found yoga, meditation, music, and a loving church community to be helpful.  My mother worked on psychiatric wards. We performed music in chronic wards.  My friend John was schizophrenic.  He was never violent, except to himself.  His sister made a documentary that included him because he slipped back and forth between lucid cogency, and hearing aliens speaking in his head warning him that the government was controlling him through the TV.  (Well, I believe that the government and the market are controlling us through TV, but that's different.)  He meant literally warping his mind through special rays.  His sister said every time she screened the film, folks would come up and say they had someone in their family who had a grave mental illness.  Every family has some contact with mental illness.  Yet John could not get care for more than 30 days at a time before he was out on the street.  And he had healthcare and his family had some money.  The system simply does not deal with long-term illness.  Without being committed, you simply cannot get long-term coping care.  And committment is roughly equivalent to imprisonment.

I feel for everyone who is outraged and incensed.  I'm only asking that we take this time, those of us who can, to reflect on our whole society, and our laws, our warrior-class aproach to the world, our consumerism and materialism, our fear- and security-based society and media, our social network, our industrialized school systems, our "gilded-age" health care system, and our lack of mental health care.

Laramie Crocker
21 December 2012
Berkeley, CA

20 December 2012

the last day


On the day before the end of the world
I wanted to die
to prove that the Universe would end
I wouldn't know if it proved it to the ones I left behind
but it would end for me

On the day before the end of the world
I had a bad day
I woke up
with a pain in my head
my body ached
my toe throbbed
my belly churned
and I wanted to crawl back
into bed

On the day before the end of the world
I fought time
as I always seem to do
it should be  a flow
but it felt like a bad joke

My dreams premonitor my waking life
and tell me I'll be stuck in the same pattern
fixing floor tiles
while airplanes crashed overhead
and I was supposed to be catching one
to fly away
to the place that would make me feel OK
in the middle of Winter
on the day before the end of the world

And then the floor tile was done
and I wanted to live
and write a song
and tell stories
and sing

Fear itself
is dread
o do I fear dread

on the day before the end of the world
I saved a hummingbird
by blotting out the skylight
and airplanes hung low over the house

10 December 2012

Happiness: my 2012 birthday bash!

I was thinking that maybe I needed a house-boy to do all the things I was supposed to be doing as host of an epic all-night-birthday-bash party. Things I was too busy having fun to do. Like replacing broken light bulbs, stoking the woodstove, pulling the dishwasher off the front porch...

But I never did get a house-boy, or needed one, because everyone else was having so much fun just as things were. Wherever I went Saturday night, someone was reaching an arm for me, or waiting to be schmurgled. I felt so much love wandering around the house, and making music with everyone. We spend so much time trying to prepare and create for our friends, so we can be loved. Practicing songs, preparing the house, this is loving by doing. At the party, just sharing our happiness and love brings a houseful of sharing, happy, loving friends.

Thank you, and we'll see you for the next Cowboy Lounge!

photos: greg cross
photos: wendi olson

20 February 2012

Dulce

A new song, still in progress.

Dulce
por Laramie Crocker
-----------------------
Un suñeo es mi vida
Que dulce es mi vida

Es dulce en mi jardin
en la primavera con tigo

Que dulce es tu vida
con migo

Un suñeo es mi vida
Que dulce es mi vida
con tigo

Listen Here: Dulce

13 December 2011

Effing the Ineffable

Wend Elsen's spoken word piece, Effing the Ineffable, over guitar, loops, and bass by Laramie Crocker. Or, the Headphone mix
Title by Matt Dean.
Song version: 4, Date: 20111216

06 November 2011

Home.mp3

A new song for my lover.

                     [Listen]
Home

copyright 2011 Laramie Crocker
===================================
Comin' home to you
is like comin' home to me
comin' home to me
I look around
and its you
I see
comin' home to me

so I'm askin you
come home to me
comin' home to you
====================================

04 November 2011

On Killy Yorn

Here's a song I recorded today (after doing it last night in a nice set with Richard Berman and Wend Elsen, at the new open mic at Cafe Yesterday, hosted by Sam Weinstein).   I wrote the song in 2000.  We continue to sing it all the time, since people request it.  So now it's going to open Redemption, the opera, even though it wasn't on Redemption, the studio album.  In the opera, it is an excuse to have a Morris dance open the show!  Give a listen:
http://laramiecrocker.com/mp3/OnKillyYorn.mp3