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Traveling without moving. Blue cosmic nebula storm. White dog heart. A special blend of all original music (and altered cover beasts), comedy, social and political commentary, and absurd nonsense to remind you/me/us of the objective truth constantly unfolding behind the scenes. Occasional trips into the spiritual realm of our shared musical experience. https://soundcloud.com/jason-lindsay-buffalo/wkjlbccjed1pirateradioincoopercreeke
Episodes

Tuesday Feb 13, 2024
Tuesday Feb 13, 2024
Good
morning good afternoon good evening goodnight and welcome to another
round of chaos at WKJLBCCJED1 pirate radio, in Cooper Creek!! It's
the February Valentines day book report special featuring Edgar Allen
Poe, two all-new original compositions, and a few altered beast cover
tunes to light up them glowing eyes in the darkness. It all begins
with a chant to the Goddess(es) to honor and express adoring
adulation and reverence to her divine holiness this season, in all
her many forms and manifestations. Coal black hate is drying out on
the winter weary hearth and peace and the ONE is the way. Welcome to
the riff palace, we're just getting started. RIVERGROOVIN' TRACK II.
DIGGITT... Spring is in the air – and will be again soon!! I
haven't written any new songs for quite some time so it feels wild to
return to the process of honing in on the true groove waves of past,
present, and future singularity sounds bubbling up out of universal
evanescence. Things are going to get throttled back after this to one
show a month as spring shows up and gardens, orchards, and numerous
outdoor projects are calling, but I hereby do swear that at least
once a month something weird wild wonderful and INSPIRED will come
rocking outta here one way or another!! I actually get less time to
listen to my ultra tasty guitar tone and engage in further study of
music theory and the art of shred when recording and producing this
stuff, but I wanna share with a few peeps I love who I know dig the
weirdness coming outta the peaceful savage garden galena ground in
Cooper Creek, so here it is again, and here we go again!!
I've
put all the music at the start of the show, followed by readings for
the hardcore Poe/Buffalo/Grayson fans...
TRACKS:
1.Goddess
Chant
2.Rivergroovin'intro
('Coz Psychadelic Muff RIFFIN' (iz tha shizzz)//////////
3.Ligaeia
(Pet Cemetary witch won't STAY DEAD!!)
4.Ossuary
Rainbow (A pirate hippy river shanty love song to freedom and death)
5.In
my Time of Dying (A joyous rippin' Zeppelin mutation)
READINGS
(46:00):
6.The
Tale of Ligaeia
7.The
Tell-Tale Heart
8.The
Black Cat
9.The
Raven
10.Goddess
Chant – Viking Trance (outro)
Beauty instrumental cover back tracks: ''Harvester of Sorrow” - Metallica+Grayson. The Les Paul was put away in it's coffin for the season, so all guitars heard here are either the B.C. Rich Mockingbird or the Taylor T3-B hollowbody golden goddess. Enjoy!!
There
is a jam night at the Laid Back Manor on Monday March 4th beginning at
around 3pm with a back yard fire and then on inside for further food,
drink, and merriment!! All are welcome, bring your axe, drum, guitar,
keys, harmonica, brass, or cannons on out and get it on with your
outback bush yayas all the way home!! Now this here podcast was
originally going to be an all-black gothic homage to the broken
hearted broken fools who believed in Love and got burned, but as I am
too much of a hopeless romantic and optimist, during writing and
production it turned into something else. It IS still a book reading
of a few choice snippets of POE – cliff notes from the pit!!
Especially the short story Ligaea, which inspired one of the new
songs written and recorded here. It's the story of a remarkably
accomplished and beautiful woman who was so fearful of death that
after she passed over to the other side wailing about how the power
of will would sustain her FOREVER she waited only a few years for her
opium stoned husband's second wife to die; Then, on that very
deathbed where the second wife's spirit had only recently departed,
inhabited her body and rose up a sort of living dead girl - even
transmorphing the body to more closely resemble her former appearance
- spectral, undead, living, willing, superconscious and spooky!!
The Tell-Tale Heart is
a classic tale of skullduggery in which a man murders an octagenarian
roomie for having a terrifyingly cursed eye – or perceived as
cursed – and shunts the corpse under the floorboards to hide it –
which makes one wonder what would have happened once decomposition
set in...yoiks. But the cops come and the sound of a beating heart
grows in the mind of the murderer until he can't keep his shit
together and goes all to pieces!!
The black cat is
a savage bloody story of a drunken bastard who murders his wife and
holes her up in the cellar behind a mortar wall but is betrayed by
the pet cemetary version of the black cat that was his ultimate
nightmare boudoir nemesis. No forgiveness for this poor fool,
straight to the gallows – CASTRATION!! DOUBLE CASTRATION!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!~!!
Poe
seems to have been obsessed with themes of being buried alive and
constrained against one's will. I wasn't going to include THE RAVEN,
but hey, it's his single best piece of awesomeness, so it had to be
in there...at the END.....
This
IS indeed to remain a literary and musical podcast – a musical blog
and drawing board for personal expression and further development and
sharing of skills with like minds. Next on my personal reading list
are Sonny Barger and Lemmy Kilmeister's autobiographies and Zen and
the art of Archery (thankx Cory) - all of which I feel like I've
strangely already experienced - but will nonetheless enjoy reading
once more, GOOD GOD!! Once upon a time long, long ago in another
lifetime lost somewhere in the mists between the crags when I was an
English teacher and a Wangjaesu (Korean translation: “King of
Fools”) I chanced across a book of love poems by Irving Layton, and
while I'm not reading any of them in the podcast, I'm including a few
choice gems in the written introduction for those who feel they might
enjoy them. ///Happy Valentines/// Wishing you all the most love,
respect, dignity, and happiness you deserve - and peace of mind and
joy of life for all these long, strange February nights and days here
on Earth in this foul, divisive, engenious, beloved, divine and soon
to be wildly fast paced year of 2024. It's only just begun!! Keep on
rockin' and don't forget, THERE'S A LIIIIIIGHT, OVER AT THE
FRANKENSTEIN PLACE, THERE'S A LIIIIIIGHT, BURNING IN THE FIRE PLACE
THERE'S A LIGHT A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS OF EVERYBODY'S LIFE!! SO
BURN, BURN THE FLAMES. GOOD DAY GOOD NIGHT, AND GOOD LUCK!!
New Tunes from Graysonthehack.
Ligaeia.
Ligaeia,
wise soul of old
enthralling
elegance unfolde
warm
and tender shadow bold
eyes
of jet and blackened gold
Outward
calm sweet melody
within
passions calamity
strange
radiance glowing in her face
an
opium dream to light the place
rapid
fall of ruby drops
passing
on, shrieking ''Oh God!!''
Yield
not unto death save by weakness of will
Yield
not unto death save by weakness of will
And
so beyond the veil, and yet, she is coming still
to
take up being alive in fresh dead host
a
will beyond the shadow of a ghost
Chilled
and paralyzed – shrinking shrieking shracking gastly bandages and
cerements are falling
away
To
reveal a face of holy light
a
deathly darkness within sight
reveal
a face of unholy light
a
deathly darkness within sight
Chilled
and paralyzed – shrinking shrieking shracking gastly bandages and
cerements are falling
away
To
reveal a face of holy light
a
deathly darkness within sight
Ligaeia
eyes of jet and blackened gold
raven's
wings in hair that tumbles down
dark
Goddess with a bright ethereal crown
Arisen
with a will to live again
Arisen
with a will to live again
Arisen
with a will to live again
Arisen
with a will to live again
Ossuary Rainbow.
Get
it outta town and you get it on down and you get it on your own and
you're on a wicked wave
Raven's
skull in a blinking eye, fractal wave soul sanctuary, rainbow heart
in an ossuary
Rip
another hole in the mystery continuum
It's
a big night sky and you know that you can fly and you know you're
gonna die and you'll be a
shooting
star
It's
a big black sky and you know that you can fly and one day you're
gonna die and you'll be a black star
Yeaaaaaahhh,
dream on.
Yeaaaaaahhh,
in your rainbones.
Irving Layton - Love poems
The Breaststroke - Layton
May
the gods be praised that I should meet
on
my final lap to the eternal sea
one
so young, so gracious and lovely,
under
clear skies promising as herself.
Ankled
deep in the scorching sands
I
can hear the shouting tide; in it
invitation
and menace like the smile
on
the fair face of my companion,
making
me wish to nuzzle forever
between
her firm thighs and cover
her
mouth with long hungering kisses
Insensate
to everything but her warm flesh
I'd
float out into the voluptuous sea,
my
practiced breast stroke perfected at last.
The
heaving mounds press against me,
alluring
me past the white wavecrests
that
close behind like tall portals
barring
return. Green towers collapse
on
bright medallions larger than suns;
the
virginal foam breaks into bridal cries
and
after the last loud crash of savaging beasts,
into
the long silence that no man hears.
Divorce - Layton.
What
is it about divorce
brings
an estranged couple closer?
Here
we are Boschka, nearly twenty years later
reading
our poems and stories to each other;
the
fire blazes: it's warmth is not greater
than
what's in our souls;
we
listen, comment, approve
and
laugh like two grey-haired children,
Why
now, not then, the love we display
exchanging
news of friends and the universe
after
a morning of rain and mist?
Arm-around-waist
we walk, talk,
and
always with the ease of those
who
know their words and actions please.
Someone
up there must be an ironist!
Or
is it, seeing our soaped heads
in
the mirror
who
in hell wants to add more discord
to
the general futility?
Let
the dropped crabapple moulder where it falls,
the
seed will clutch and break the soil.
Is
that what love is: to care knowing
stars
and blossoms flare to extinction?
We've
separated wide the fingers of our hands
and
let fall through them egotism, illusion, pride:
dear,
dear Boschka, how tenderly now
our
fingers entwine and hold.
Undine - Layton.
Your
body to hold, your perfect breasts,
Your
lips; your hips under my pregnant hands
That
when they move, why, they're snakes
Sliding,
and hiding near your golden buttocks.
Then
as your great engines of love begin
Intestinal,
furious, submarine
They
spark into small bites
Whose
hot spittle inundates all my deserts.
And
I'm like water in a scoop of stone
Kissed
into absence by a drying sun;
Or
I'm dried Sahara sand
Wanting
your wetness over me without end.
So
posessed, so broken's my entire self
No
rosy whipcord, love, can bind my halves
When
queen you squat; you moisten
My
parched nipples into a blazing garden.
And
I your paramour-Paracelsus
Fish
a soul for you from between my loins;
You
shudder in my embrace
And
all your wetness takes the form of tears.
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