The Lunatics are on the path....
Just a quick post to let everyone know that I am rushed off my feet with work at the moment, and thus there will probably not be many updates today, tomorrow and mayhaps the rest of the week, though I can't be sure of that.
The weekend was a full moon weekend, you know why, because it was OBVIOUSLY a full moon weekend, and like the tarot card, was full of dreams, fears, violence, euphoric states, shadows and change.
I tell ya, the Shellac gig on Saturday, was by any standards like having your head blown off by a high calibre weapon, whilst climaxing during the best sex you have ever had in your life. Mr. Albini now owns my watch, whether he wanted it or not. Nuff said.
Shellac was followed by a hedonistic hour or two in Sin e, and a walk home where we rescued a bloke from a punishment beating that he was getting as a result of not his, but his brother's unsavory involvement with prisons, organised crime and murder's.
The man ran from a side street out onto the main thoroughfare of Patricks Street. He was drenched in blood, from a deep cut beneath his eye where he had been headbutted, scarlet streaks of it over his face and shirt, Carrie blood. Two men had come up to him with a mobile phone, handed it to him and told him that there was someone who wanted to talk to him. The bloke on the phone turned out to be an enemy of his brothers, who was at that moment in prison. The few words from the guy were enough to distract the victim so that his attackers could land the first punch. He managed to pull himself from the ground whilst they were landing blows and sprint. When we ran into him he was white with fear, and thought that we were about to continue the beating that the others started. It took us some time to convince him that we meant no harm. I watched for any further sign of his attackers, of which there was only one guy, looking at us while speaking on a mobile, whilst M and R talked to him.
We took him home, cleaned him up, fed him tea and called his girlfriend. Our good deed for the weekend.
So it's offical, Dublin has reverted to the state it was in the seventies, except with guns.
Be careful out there people.
Gotta go, work, as ever, beckons.
Peace and Hope
FatherCrow
The weekend was a full moon weekend, you know why, because it was OBVIOUSLY a full moon weekend, and like the tarot card, was full of dreams, fears, violence, euphoric states, shadows and change.
I tell ya, the Shellac gig on Saturday, was by any standards like having your head blown off by a high calibre weapon, whilst climaxing during the best sex you have ever had in your life. Mr. Albini now owns my watch, whether he wanted it or not. Nuff said.
Shellac was followed by a hedonistic hour or two in Sin e, and a walk home where we rescued a bloke from a punishment beating that he was getting as a result of not his, but his brother's unsavory involvement with prisons, organised crime and murder's.
The man ran from a side street out onto the main thoroughfare of Patricks Street. He was drenched in blood, from a deep cut beneath his eye where he had been headbutted, scarlet streaks of it over his face and shirt, Carrie blood. Two men had come up to him with a mobile phone, handed it to him and told him that there was someone who wanted to talk to him. The bloke on the phone turned out to be an enemy of his brothers, who was at that moment in prison. The few words from the guy were enough to distract the victim so that his attackers could land the first punch. He managed to pull himself from the ground whilst they were landing blows and sprint. When we ran into him he was white with fear, and thought that we were about to continue the beating that the others started. It took us some time to convince him that we meant no harm. I watched for any further sign of his attackers, of which there was only one guy, looking at us while speaking on a mobile, whilst M and R talked to him.
We took him home, cleaned him up, fed him tea and called his girlfriend. Our good deed for the weekend.
So it's offical, Dublin has reverted to the state it was in the seventies, except with guns.
Be careful out there people.
Gotta go, work, as ever, beckons.
Peace and Hope
FatherCrow
posted by fathercrow at 11:43 AM
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