Pete Drake Forever ♾ Talking Steel Guitar (chopped & screwed) Hank Williams is in the middle of that last, lone, lost highway, silently illumined by the purpled sky overhead

"There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history fully unfold."

– William Shakespeare

An Internal Shifting of Chess Pieces in the Shadows

Sun
Fiery, bright
Scorching, burning, laughing
Summer, daylight, moonbeams, shadows
Whispering, rustling, sleeping
Cool, eclipsed
Moon

 (The princess is gently kissing the frog)

1. Pete Drake Forever  ♾  Talking Steel Guitar (chopped & screwed)

 

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Pete lays the most important talkbox in the crucial period of its development using a rubber hose forming vocalisation with sounds vibrations and the subtle shaping of his mouth. He also changes its mellifluous eerie sound into a doleful ode to eternity, decades before @davidlynchfoundation among hauntingly cleancut musicians and singers, introduced by truly bizarre Merle Kilgore

A post shared by Doug Meet (@dougmeet) on Apr 7, 2020 at 10:13pm PDT

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Pete Drake performs to playback 'Forever,'

written by Buddy Killen, released by The Little Dippers and Billy Walker in January 1960; now beautiful, now haunting musical film/video, now common, performance documents, perfected with the inclination and budgetary backing of, among other few and far between backers, the first mass popularization of the form, this film vignette at the Ryman Theater's Grand Ol' Opry, whose use of these live filmed song stories are nothing if not direct antecedents to the continuing iteration of the then expensive but profitable and  popular format which most often sufficed as lip syncing and faux performance done straight to released single track, released as closely as possible for promotion purposes,  but limited only to the mega-broadcasting prowess of the mighty 50,000 watt behemoth radio stations of Nashville, establishing the true voice of American music, storied and ultimately responsible along with the three pronged attack which included, radio and live performance, making Country & Western music the business model for Rock 'n' Roll,  with its comparatively meager budget, and  finally establishing it today in its current form.

 

1. Pete Drake also changes its mellifluous sound into a baleful ode to eternity, important as seen here by exhibiting on film the most bizarre (if this clip weren't already impossible to be shocked) encumbrances for functionality,

   • without its differently deviced application, style, or tonal quality and decades before David Lynch may well have watched and enjoined these not yet foundered, but holsum ships heading to shore before someone from Area 51 comes backstage at the Ryman, and besides a few questions for Porter, and definitely a couple for our emcee and first class Nashville bum Merle Kilgore, he may have a long debriefing with this particular group of clean-cut  Nashvillians, whose musical ensemble and performance is no-less than pre-Lynchian only for his nascent absence, we assume; however, I have seen his re-creation of what happens here which he probably did not see at the time, 1960, but perhaps saw later, or it would not shock me if he still hasn not seen this iconic clip (which I am surely sending along), except through the lens of his favorite cinematographic camera operated by his trusted cinematographer, with director notes from him, of course -- one can imagine their wording; it materializes like a ruby from Sai Baba's magic trick sleight of hand and sleight of his worshippers, throughout his oeuvre in this Forever, memory-made maquette -- this strange conservative off-putting 'clean as a whistle,' hairless dog-type double-taking, where one imagines red and blue pulules of spherocylindrical shapes shining in hand like jujubes of red or panned gold nuggets, their warning not subtly indicative of their narcotized agency by their bright poison-alerting snake hues, resulting in a now pro forma  prerequisite passing to and from pill-proud industry men and women, session players, men doing a relatively new and different TV gig,  made up of prodigies like Merle Kilgore, and the man with the hit and the tube in his mouth, Pete Drake, the band, and the vocal backing group of equally toothy women and men sitting per set dresser and director around hay bales spread naturally underneath the comfortable Moonshine of the silvery spotlight with the special filter to diffuse that stardust away, looking as though it is beaming down on Nashville's Mother Church, its Ryman Auditorium, where history was made every week, and only one-hundred feet out back and outside, there is the World Famous Tootsie's Honky Tonk awaiting musicians and fans alike -- always Tootsies -- outside awaiting the breaking of this closed filming, where the institution of Country and Western music is still wondrously in abidance every week on this stage, the Grand Ol' Opry is the Grand Ol' Opry, and that's all it needs to be.
     

 

Hank Williams is in the middle of that last, lone, lost highway, silently illumined by the purpled sky overhead

•  

  slowly, the lessening tempo of the engine which pumped out pain, tragedy, and cause for cures never ending to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady maladroitly began shutting down the lonely

  with just a couple air swallows a minute, imagine shuttin' down that cotton turbine, or when Le Croupier lets go that lucky ball, its volition provides bettors enough tension, then -- ball hops out and lands on something -- too lonesome to cry anymore.

 

• Hank Williams is in the middle of that last, lone, lost highway, silently illumined by the purpled sky overhead which hides the falling star on whose wishing no one clue came, only from his rigored question mark-shaped body's pose, dressed in Nudie boots, rhinestone special musical note jacket and all round cowboy suit to beat the band, but his bowed head is not in prayer, the sickled ovoid cove of his lolling head, made known someone finally had something to tell somewhere, but it did no good to wonder what or who it was, because that lonesome, weary from waitin' heart stopped hours ago:   it needed a break, a kiss, a guitar, a shot and a beer, to catch the tear that was in his eye, so lonesome he could cry. 
  

 

 

• Years before, and inching toward a sliced illumination which took breathless Hank a second to reflect his location, all squirreled over and bent and bony was he, trying to cast a beam or two; Hank Williams was stooped by malnutrition and hobbled by liquor and morphine sulfate, derived from unscrupulous, harelipped, wardening men whose Hippocratic oath given hypothetically and enacted hypocritically while it was administered transactionally.

 

• and now add to his misery, wife Audrey, waiting at home for whichever malevolent version of the Irving Berlin of Country & Western music happened to stagger through a door, which by now, he might just have easily and quietly had someone deliver his disappearing frame through the mail slot, so emaciated and gaunt was his condition.

 

• His ruination started as happiness, ended unbidden in the back of a Cadillac --  dead on arrival was the Country Keith Richards -- except for his dying -- multifarious mendacity from the writing arms of scumbag showbiz docs from the hills and hollers dotting the outskirts of Nashville like the multi-colored pilules they doled out.  They over-keeled, ground-wheeled, drag-crawled and hobble-heeled him by their two-fisted (two-to-Tango), slow motion overdosing -- turning him into the Pharmonster whose Hydra-head spoke to imaginary dream lovers through morphia's moribund meridian.

 

• yodeling  that most antique of all evangelical adaptations from the Holy Lands to the nomadic Tuaregs, now to the hot tents where money-made miracles solely from the Holy Spirit told you in a language which only you, It, and the preacher understood, a new form of American ululation as communication to the bank; its Swiss version thankfully relied on less extreme emotion and false faith, and was shared by Hank's mentor Jimmy Rogers, sounding like the Alpine Minnie Pearl had a baby Muslim son who slouched more toward a mosque in Mecca than a tent in Tutweiler.  Then one day  he got himself lost in a holler with a خفتان‎ khaftān and his Koran -- so they set to making noises that he might hear ... later analysis of his remains speak to his injuries by bear, but consider the underpinning of a successful life as part hard work and part intuition.

Best words:

1. men (9)
2. saw (7)
3. making (6)
4. wheel (6)
5. boat (6)
6. mark (6)
7. five (5)
8. gurdon (5)
9. cause (5)
10. shuttin (5)
11. lonely (5)
12. voice (5)
13. music (5)
14. been (5)
15. vesty (5)
16. put (4)
17. performance (4)
18. child (4)
19. hand (4)
20. life (4)
21. middle (4)
22. sky (4)
23. question (4)
24. cry (4)
25. lonesome (4)
26. head (4)
27. dead (4)
28. mum (4)
29. sea (4)
30. face (4)
31. ending (4)
32. released (3)
33. created (3)
34. notely (3)
35. old (3)
36. williams (3)
37. country (3)
38. live (3)
39. development (3)
40. known (3)
41. malady (3)
42. pain (3)
43. last (3)
44. gasoline (3)
45. luke-driftin (3)
46. lessening (3)
47. ball (3)
48. people (3)
49. pumped (3)
50. slowing (3)
51. waitin (3)
52. wonder (3)
53. hop (3)
54. belle (3)
55. hank (3)
56. account (3)
57. guitar (3)
58. saved (3)
59. media (3)
60. owner (3)
61. waves (3)
62. maladroitly (3)
63. tragedy (3)
64. air (3)
65. did (3)
66. sound (3)
67. women (3)
68. eternity (3)
69. supermarket (3)
70. engine (3)
71. sinking (3)
72. drake (3)
73. pete (3)
74. fishing-boat (3)
75. cure (3)
76. good (3)
77. song (3)
78. tempo (3)
79. wesley (3)
80. frail (3)
81. shot (3)
82. time (2)
83. mother (2)
84. imagetagramathesis (2)
85. western (2)
86. love (2)
87. door (2)
88. wind (2)
89. establishing (2)
90. stood (2)

Keyword highlighting:

• 
  

  What does Purpled look like?

  Purple is

  a color intermediate between blue and red. It is similar to violet, but unlike violet, which is a spectral color with its own wavelength on the visible spectrum of light, purple is a secondary color made by combining red and blue. The complementary color of purple in the RYB color model is yellow.
• 
  

 

Perversions:
The perversion of the creative will is a fear of the unknown, which is expressed as an ability to abuse power in order to control one's circumstances, including other people. There is a fear of engaging in activities where the outcome cannot be predicted or guaranteed, which obviously stifles creativity. People with perverted first ray qualities are often engaged in a variety of power games with other people, all based on the desire to control the outcome. This is an attempt to quell the very life force itself, which always points towards self-transcendence, and instead protect the separate self and what it thinks it can own in this world. This can lead to a sense of ownership over other people, which is one of the major sources of conflict on this planet. In milder cases, people have a fear of being creative and a sense of powerlessness, feeling that nothing really matters and that an individual cannot make a difference -- thus, why even bother trying.

 

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Sentences:

1. Hank Williams, slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped out pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonely 14-18 minutes Sad pop songs have Bee Gees confessions ffffffffffffffffffff Images for mellifluous eerie sound into a doleful ode to eternity fffffffffffffffffffff Hank Williams, slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonely Comfortless saints walk among the saved, speak truths, the worst life offers -- heartbreak, trauma, bereavement -- drawn from harrowed events.

2. 
   

Pete Drake Forever ♾ Talking Steel Guitar (Chopped & screwed) Pete Drake performs to playback 'Forever,' written by Buddy Killen, released by The Little Dippers and Billy Walker in January 1960; now beautiful, now haunting musical film/video, now common, performance documents, perfected with the inclination and budgetary backing of, among other few and far between backers, the first mass popularization of the form, this film vignette at the Ryman Theater's Grand Ol' Opry, whose use of these live filmed song stories are nothing if not direct antecedents to the continuing iteration of the then expensive but profitable and wildly popular format which included a literal interpretation of song storyline, or most often, just lip syncing and faux performance done straight to the live in studio recorded and released single, and released as closely to the single release of that master reference product as possible, for promotion purposes, almost of its own except for the less familiar but contemporaneous presentation of Scopitones, this same format for pop and rock records, discs played in coin-operated video jukebox machines, groundbreaking and portable, but limited compared to the broadcasting prowess of the mighty 50,000 watt behemoth radio stations of Nashville, establishing themselves as the true voice of America's music, storied and ultimately responsible along with their development of the three pronged attack in place which included, radio and live performance, making success of Country & Western music and then used as the business model for Rock 'n' Roll, even with its comparatively meager budget and resources, and then finally establishing it today as the ultimate successful form as established with MTV ca.

1980s.

3. 
   
4. 
   

Here is an iconic moment frozen in a distant-looking, almost contemporary time capsule, highlighting the musically advanced, always-fertile invention of the behind-the-scenes forward thinking men and women whose influence can not be underestimated as to its influence of what we see here as one example: Pete Drake to Peter Frampton and Joe Walsh to Zapp and Roger Troutman and Stevie Wonder, to Hip Hop and Rap, finally to scientific wizardry of one of electronic music's most oddly resonant and mesmerizing sound oscillators, since the Theremin, both enjoying short-lived and brief spans of popular, novel appreciation in brief minor, interesting spurts of popularity, the Talkbox, in the crucial period of its development which sees the addition of a rubber hose allowing spoken or sung vocalization effects produced i with sounds vibrations and the subtle shaping of his mouth.




5. 
   

He also changes its mellifluous sound into a doleful ode to eternity important as seen here by exhibiting on film one of the most bizarrely appearing encumbrances its functionality, possibly penultimate end of road to less remaining elegant solution and probable ending of innovation, invocation, or iterative development, without it different deviced, different application, style, or tonal quality, decades before David Lynch may as well have, and may well have foundered among hauntingly cleancut Nashvillian musical genius en ensemble performance, no less Lynchian for his nascence, this recreation of their materialization, this Forever memory-made maudette, this strange day, famously conservative except it 'clean as a whistle,' hairless, where its redish pills and blue pullules and all in fineness their multi-hued pill proud prodigies, were settin' next to the Shine of the silvery moon, ahead straight over Mother Church, Rynan, GOO, and inching toward a little sliced pie of illumination it took breathless away to cast a beam or two toward Hank Williams' stooped malnutrition by morphine sulfate from unscrupulous men whose oath were taken hypocritically, and added to his misery, was Miss Audrey, waitin there at home for whatever malevolent iteration of the Irving Berlin of Country & Western music happened to stagger through a door which he could have just as easily been mailed through, whose ruination started as double-happiness, ended unbidden, well-ridden, the back of a Cadillac -- half-ridden, all the way dead on arrival, the Country Keith Richards, except for survival, keeled, wheeled, crawled and heeled by that two-fisted Sci-Pharm monster whose Hydra-head spoke imaginary dream lovers of morphia's comorbid, moribund preoccupation, invitation accepted, now in attendance two guests, announced at door, until it lit its lungs, built up from projecting to the bathroom, back row of all those Honky Tonks, yodelling that most antique of all American ululations, shared by his mentor Jimmy Rogers, sounding like the Alpine and Minnie Pearl had a baby Shiite Muslim son, who towards Mecca got himself lost, him in a holler, so they set to making noise which he might hear...

 

Snowin’ on Raton

Townes Van Zandt

1987

No one understood what Hank Williams was getting at on Lost Highway better than Van Zandt, a figure as wracked and tragic as Hank. Raton is characteristically bleak.Townes is driving through the hills of New Mexico, escaping a sour romance and heading for the woman who holds his heart. The song becomes a meditation (“I’m thankful that old road’s a friend of mine”) while Townes listens to the hills and “the silence they are keeping”. A country epiphany. NS

Letter Analysis M M's consider that the underpinning of a successful life is part hard work and part intuition.

A 'A' is for ambition and being driven in life by a special motivation to persevere.

U Within the boundaries of the 'U' it turns out there is a reliable and thorough stance, as this is someone who doesn't trust their emotions too much and who has an objective nature.

D As this letter resonates with the energy of the number 4, which is a very stable and domesticated one, these people loving to make plans.

E E's core is connected to life principles such as not worrying about succeed but working towards it.

T The 'T' may be burdened because of their tendency to easily surrender to becoming upset and callous.

T Those under the effect of 'T' can be perceived as critical, but they are actually the opposite, making for sensible and objective friends.

E The E's three equal sized branches, that are prolonged outwards, remind of the power of resourcefulness and originality.

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2. 
   

 

1. 
   

 

1. 
   
2. 
   
3. Supermarket Flower Muse

 

1. "She was the nicest women you'd ever meet, was my mum's mum, as written from my mum's point of view," a song his dad insisted he'd serviced his grandfather while it was written: "My grandfather turned on -- good memory there."

 

1. Imaginative, puddle splashed on his peppermint hot photo op.

2. 
   

 

1. Comfortless saints walk among the saved

 

 

1. But the saint, though tall and bearded, wore such as the unchaste belles of society sport upon earth, a profuse skirt, with flashing train; and he was walking quite alone.
2. "Where are the 'saved'?" said Belle, with ghastly hope.
3. "They are just around the corner," said I cheerfully; "where that suggestion of clouds is—see!" "N-no, but I guess they are.
4. Ain't he the lookin'est thing you ever saw?" "Quite the lookin'est!" Belle giggled.
5. I bore her out in it sympathetically.
6. Wesley, who observed how we were at least keeping the crows off of the clams, smiled upon us with feeble indulgence.
7. But as we read on, Belle did come to a lesson of such useful terror that she decided to take her rake and assist Wesley among the flats.
8. I approved her, and lay back, smiling, in the I heard Wesley's little old voice pipe up, considerately: "You'll scare 'em jest as well if you do go to sleep, major." I kept on smiling.
9. The sun seemed a lake of glory and I a boatman, fair and free, sailing vast distances upon it with just one stroke of my wand-oar—and here I began to scare the crows unconsciously.
10. The air of the Basin anon exhilarated one, anon soothed one into wondrous, deep, peace-drunken slumber.
11. When I awoke Vesty stood over me, calling me.
12. There was a purple, dark sky—now but little after mid-day—glowing with red at the edges like a sunset; the wind was blowing strong.
13. It was dark, yet all was distinct about me.
14. I sprang to my feet with a sort of solemn exultation and bared my head.
15. "Wake, major, wake!" Vesty cried to me.
16. She drew me and pointed out to sea.
17. "Notely's boat—it was trying to make home—it is on the reefs." I saw it then by a flash of that unearthly light, the wind descending like the last of days.
18. I hastened with Vesty to the low beach, where the people were moving strangely, looking out on the sea with its swift-crested breakers.
19. From the yacht, beating helpless on the ledges, Notely and the few who had sailed with him that morning were putting out the life-boat; but Captain Rafe kept running his weather-stained hand down his white face, his head shaking.
20. "Bare chance t'save half of  'em in the gale—they'll swamp her; nay, they'll never get her home with that freight; and it's no sea—it's a herricane, above and below.
21. I see the sky in broad day like that but once before, and then——"His voice was hushed, the boat was off, was lost; then once again we saw her; we felt the gale rushing; when we could see again, there were a few struggling in the waves, a few climbing back upon the sinking masts of the vessel, with wild signals.
22. The little Basin boats were old and frail; only Gurdon had lately been building a new fishing-boat.
23. While we were looking off he had been hauling it down the steep bank by the cottage.
24. Now when we saw him Vesty ran to him and put the child in his arms and clung to him.
25. I saw a great light come over his face.
26. "Gurd," said his father sternly, the old stained hand still stroking his white face, "ye have strength and skill above the most—but look at yon! Put up your boat, lad; it's no use.
27. Moreover, there are five men yonder on the masts—your boat, tested in an ordinar' sea, holds but five alone!" "Will ye go out jest to give them another chance to wrack themselves, and ye put yerself by to drown?" said another, with a trembling, half-ferocious laugh.
28. "Look to yer wife and child.
29. Don't be a fool!" "There 's not one o' ye," cried Gurdon, "but if ye had a boat fit 'u'd do all ye could, an' men sinkin' and a-wavin' ye like that—let me off! There 's no other way——" His voice broke.
30. He looked at his wife and child, a look the woman understood for all eternity.
31. Vesty stood like marble; her shawl had escaped from her own throat, but was warm about the child that Gurdon had placed back on her breast.
32. As we waited, watching, transfixed, Fluke came running breathless from the woods where he had been as guide with the party of Notely's pleasure-seekers who had stayed behind that morning.
33. Captain Rafe ran to him, with the hand still stroking his pallid face: "That was Gurdon out there, making so near the sinking boat—he would go—only five——" But Fluke heard never a word.
34. He saw; his face flushed with a kind of mad joy; he tossed his hair back, and leaping into the waves, swam to his own frail little fishing-boat that was tossing at anchor.
35. His voice leaped back to us above the tumult of the wind: "Gurd and me'll come home together!" There was a lull in the gale; the five were put off from the sinking craft in Gurdon's boat.
36. And the men were standing with ropes on the shore; but I only saw, as the tempest moaned, to swell again, one figure on a bending mast, between sea and sky, and one in a frail shell toiling toward him.
37. The tempest fell and smote.
38. Then did nothing seem to me fated underneath those awful heavens, but grand and free; freest, mightiest of all that figure imprisoned between storm and cloud, overwhelmed, buried——triumphant, imperishable! Then did the dead that I had known come forth and walk upon the waves before me: and I beheld that they were not dead, but glorious and strong—that, rather, I was dead.
39. Then all seemed black about me.
40. I would have clutched at something, but I felt a cold hand grasp mine in appealing agony.
41. They brought in with ropes through the breakers the five men who had neared the shore in the young sailor's new fishing-boat.
42. Supermarket Flowers Music But the "Twin Brothers," the lime fig, the toiling boatload; me to ether!"
    
43. Ed Sheeran wrote his mum, her mother's grandmother, recording her,  his mother--both women.
44. As songwriter producer, he worked through 19 number-one hit singles: including her album, "You Never Want Hopelessly Devoted Magic Greasy Love," Grammy Award.

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• Abrams, M. H. A Glossary of Literary Terms. 6th edition. Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace College Pub., 1993. [Now superseded by later editions.]
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• Feeney, Denis. "Introduction." Ovid: Metamorphóses Trans. David Raeburn. London: Penguin Books, 2004.
• Gabel, John B. and Charles B. Wheeler. The Bible as Literature: An Introduction. New York: Oxford U P, 1986.
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• Marshall, Jeremy and Fred McDonald. Questions of English. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1995.
• Mawson, C. O. Sylvester and Charles Berlitz. Dictionary of Foreign Terms. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 2nd ed. 1975.

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Hank Williams, slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped out pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonely

Sad pop songs have Bee Gees confessions

ffffffffffffffffffff

Images for mellifluous eerie sound into a doleful ode to eternity

fffffffffffffffffffff

Hank Williams, slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonely

Comfortless saints walk among the saved,

speak truths, the worst life offers -- heartbreak, trauma, bereavement -- drawn from harrowed events.

 

Pete Drake Forever ♾ Talking Steel Guitar (Chopped & screwed)

 

Pete Drake performs to playback 'Forever,' written by Buddy Killen, released by The Little Dippers and Billy Walker in January 1960; now beautiful, now haunting musical film/video, now common, performance documents, perfected with the inclination and budgetary backing of, among other few and far between backers, the first mass popularization of the form, this film vignette at the Ryman Theater's Grand Ol' Opry, whose use of these live filmed song stories are nothing if not direct antecedents to the continuing iteration of the then expensive but profitable and wildly popular format which included a literal interpretation of song storyline, or most often, just lip syncing and faux performance done straight to the live in studio recorded and released single, and released as closely to the single release of that master reference product as possible, for promotion purposes, almost of its own except for the less familiar but contemporaneous presentation of Scopitones, this same format for pop and rock records, discs played in coin-operated video jukebox machines, groundbreaking and portable, but limited compared to the broadcasting prowess of the mighty 50,000 watt behemoth radio stations of Nashville, establishing themselves as the true voice of America's music, storied and ultimately responsible along with their development of the three pronged attack in place which included, radio and live performance, making success of Country & Western music and then used as the business model for Rock 'n' Roll, even with its comparatively meager budget and resources, and then finally establishing it today as the ultimate successful form as established with MTV ca. 1980s.

Here is an iconic moment frozen in a distant-looking, almost contemporary time capsule, highlighting the musically advanced, always-fertile invention of the behind-the-scenes forward thinking men and women whose influence can not be underestimated as to its influence of what we see here as one example: Pete Drake to Peter Frampton and Joe Walsh to Zapp and Roger Troutman and Stevie Wonder, to Hip Hop and Rap, finally to scientific wizardry of one of electronic music's most oddly resonant and mesmerizing sound oscillators, since the Theremin, both enjoying short-lived and brief spans of popular, novel appreciation in brief minor, interesting spurts of popularity, the Talkbox, in the crucial period of its development which sees the addition of a rubber hose allowing spoken or sung vocalization effects produced i with sounds vibrations and the subtle shaping of his mouth.

 

He also changes its mellifluous sound into a doleful ode to eternity important as seen here by exhibiting on film one of the most bizarrely appearing encumbrances its functionality,

 

       

 

possibly penultimate end of road to less remaining elegant solution and probable ending of innovation, invocation, or iterative development, without it different deviced, different application, style, or tonal quality, decades before David Lynch may as well have, and may well have foundered among hauntingly cleancut Nashvillian musical genius en ensemble performance, no less Lynchian for his nascence, this recreation of their materialization, this Forever memory-made maudette, this strange day, famously conservative except it 'clean as a whistle,' hairless, where its redish pills and blue pullules  and all in fineness their multi-hued pill proud prodigies, were settin' next to the Shine of the silvery moon, ahead straight over Mother Church, Rynan, GOO, and inching toward a little sliced pie of illumination it took breathless away to cast a beam or two toward Hank Williams' stooped malnutrition by morphine sulfate from unscrupulous men whose oath were taken hypocritically, and added to his misery, was Miss Audrey, waitin there at home for whatever malevolent iteration of the Irving Berlin of Country & Western music happened to stagger through a door which he could have just as easily been mailed through, whose ruination started as double-happiness, ended unbidden,  well-ridden, the back of a Cadillac -- half-ridden, all the way dead on arrival, the Country Keith Richards, except for survival, keeled, wheeled, crawled and heeled by that two-fitted Sci-fi Pharmonster whose Hydra-head spoke imaginary dream lovers morphia's meridian, comorbidity, moribund preoccupation, its invitation accepted and now in attendance, two guests announced at door, required respondez vous, until it lit its, his lungs,  built up  projecting to the bathroom back row of Honky Tonk yodelling, that most antique of all American ululations, shared by his mentor Jimmy Rogers, sounding like the Alpine and Minnie Pearl had a baby Shiite Muslim son, who towards Mecca got himself lost, him in a holler, so they set to making noise which he might hear...

 

Letter Analysis

M	M's consider that the underpinning of a successful life is part hard work and part intuition.
A	'A' is for ambition and being driven in life by a special motivation to persevere.
U	Within the boundaries of the 'U' it turns out there is a reliable and thorough stance, as this is someone who doesn't trust their emotions too much and who has an objective nature.
D	As this letter resonates with the energy of the number 4, which is a very stable and domesticated one, these people loving to make plans.
E	E's core is connected to life principles such as not worrying about succeed but working towards it.
T	The 'T' may be burdened because of their tendency to easily surrender to becoming upset and callous.
T	Those under the effect of 'T' can be perceived as critical, but they are actually the opposite, making for sensible and objective friends.
E	The E's three equal sized branches, that are prolonged outwards, remind of the power of resourcefulness and originality.

slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped out pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all  Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonely with just a couple air swallows a minute, easy to see harder, to imagine shuttin' down  that cotton turbine wheel, till  Le Grande Croupier lets go that lucky Wheel of Fortune Roulette volition, if only to provide bettors enough tension, that wheel, ball hop out and land on something too lonesome to cry for anymore, in the middle of that last long highway ride,middle of  night, silent illumined, purpled sky, brightly hiding this falling star,  whose wishing gave no clue to his rigored question mark body's interrogatory, diacritic mark, made with Nudie by Manuel boots for dots, bowed head, its question mark's sickle ovoid cove, making known someone had something to tell somewhere, but it didn't do no good to wonder where they are now, cause that lonely, weary from waitin' heart just stopped tickin',  it needed a break, a kiss, a guitar, a shot, and most of all, a beer, to catch the tear that was up in his eye, so lonesome he could cry.

with just a couple air swallows a minute, easy to see harder, to imagine shuttin' down  that cotton turbine wheel, till  Le Grande Croupier lets go that lucky Wheel of Fortune Roulette volition, if only to provide bettors enough tension, that wheel, ball hop out and land on something too lonesome to cry for anymore, in the middle of that last long highway ride,middle of  night, silent illumined, purpled sky, brightly hiding this falling star,  whose wishing gave no clue to his rigored question mark body's interrogatory, diacritic mark, made with Nudie by Manuel boots for dots, bowed head, its question mark's sickle ovoid cove, making known someone had something to tell somewhere, but it didn't do no good to wonder where they are now, cause that lonely, weary from waitin' heart just stopped tickin',  it needed a break, a kiss, a guitar, a shot, and most of all, a beer, to catch the tear that was up in his eye, so lonesome he could cry.

 

She described songwriting pros very straight:

 

heart and a character emcee introducing this Twin Peaks outtake-that-never-was, truly bizarre, Music City Man of La Mancha maniac, co-writer with June Carter of Johnny Cash's hit "Jackson,"  Merle Kilgore!

 

  My Ed Sheeran || Supermarket Flower Muse

"She was  the nicest women you'd ever meet, was my mum's mum as written from my mum's point of view; a song to his dad, who insisted he service five people - just their members and his grandfather:

 

"My grandfather turned on -- good memory there."

among the

Comfortless saint walking among the saved

But the saint, though tall and bearded, wore a ball dress such as the unchastened belles of society sport upon earth, a profuse skirt, with flashing train; and he was walking quite alone.

"Where are the 'saved'?" said Belle, with ghastly hope.

"They are just around the corner," said I cheerfully; "where that suggestion of clouds is—see!"

"N-no, but I guess they are. Ain't he the lookin'est thing you ever saw?"

"Quite the lookin'est!"

Belle giggled. I bore her out in it sympathetically.

Wesley, who observed how we were at least keeping the crows off of the clams, smiled upon us with feeble indulgence.

But as we read on, Belle did come to a lesson of such useful terror that she decided to take her rake and assist Wesley among the flats.

I approved her, and lay back, smiling, in the I heard Wesley's little old voice pipe up, considerately: "You'll scare 'em jest as well if you do go to sleep, major."

I kept on smiling. The sun seemed a lake of glory and I a boatman, fair and free, sailing vast distances upon it with just one stroke of my wand-oar—and here I began to scare the crows unconsciously.

The air of the Basin anon exhilarated one, anon soothed one into wondrous, deep, peace-drunken slumber.

When I awoke Vesty stood over me, calling me.

There was a purple, dark sky—now but little after mid-day—glowing with red at the edges like a sunset; the wind was blowing strong. It was dark, yet all was distinct about me. I sprang to my feet with a sort of solemn exultation and bared my head.

"Wake, major, wake!" Vesty cried to me. She drew me and pointed out to sea. "Notely's boat—it was trying to make home—it is on the reefs."

I saw it then by a flash of that unearthly light, the wind descending like the last of days. I hastened with Vesty to the low beach, where the people were moving strangely, looking out on the sea with its swift-crested breakers.

From the yacht, beating helpless on the ledges, Notely and the few who had sailed with him that morning were putting out the life-boat; but Captain Rafe kept running his weather-stained hand down his white face, his head shaking.

"Bare chance t' save half of 'em in the gale—they'll swamp her; nay, nay, they'll never get her home with that freight; and it's no sea—it 's a herricane, above and below. I see the sky in broad day like that but once before, and then——"

His voice was hushed, the boat was off, was lost; then once again we saw her; we felt the gale rushing; when we could see again, there were a few struggling in the waves, a few climbing back upon the sinking masts of the vessel, with wild signals.

The little Basin boats were old and frail; only Gurdon had lately been building a new fishing-boat. While we were looking off he had been hauling it down the steep bank by the cottage.

Now when we saw him Vesty ran to him and put the child in his arms and clung to him. I saw a great light come over his face.

"Gurd," said his father sternly, the old stained hand still stroking his white face, "ye have strength and skill above the most—but look at yon! Put up your boat, lad; it's no use. Moreover, there are five men yonder on the masts—your boat, tested in an ordinar' sea, holds but five alone!"

"Will ye go out jest to give them another chance to wrack themselves, and ye put yerself by to drown?" said another, with a trembling, half-ferocious laugh. "Look to yer wife and child. Don't be a fool!"

"There 's not one o' ye," cried Gurdon, "but if ye had a boat fit 'u'd do all ye could, an' men sinkin' and a-wavin' ye like that—let me off! There 's no other way——"

His voice broke. He looked at his wife and child, a look the woman understood for all eternity.

Vesty stood like marble; her shawl had escaped from her own throat, but was warm about the child that Gurdon had placed back on her breast.

As we waited, watching, transfixed, Fluke came running breathless from the woods where he had been as guide with the party of Notely's pleasure-seekers who had stayed behind that morning.

Captain Rafe ran to him, with the hand still stroking his pallid face: "That was Gurdon out there, making so near the sinking boat—he would go—only five——"

But Fluke heard never a word. He saw; his face flushed with a kind of mad joy; he tossed his hair back, and leaping into the waves, swam to his own frail little fishing-boat that was tossing at anchor.

His voice leaped back to us above the tumult of the wind: "Gurd and me'll come home together!"

There was a lull in the gale; the five were put off from the sinking craft in Gurdon's boat.

And the men were standing with ropes on the shore; but I only saw, as the tempest moaned, to swell again, one figure on a bending mast, between sea and sky, and one in a frail shell toiling toward him.

The tempest fell and smote. Then did nothing seem to me fated underneath those awful heavens, but grand and free; freest, mightiest of all that figure imprisoned between storm and cloud, overwhelmed, buried——triumphant, imperishable! Then did the dead that I had known come forth and walk upon the waves before me: and I beheld that they were not dead, but glorious and strong—that, rather, I was dead.

Then all seemed black about me. I would have clutched at somewhat, but I felt a cold hand grasp mine in appealing agony. They brought in with ropes through the breakers the five men who had neared the shore in the young sailor's new fishing-boat.

 

  My Ed Sheeran || Supermarket Flowers Music

But the "Twin Brothers," the lime fig, the toiling fig boat ad ;" me to ether!"

1. Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran

 

Ed Sheeran wrote his mum, her mother's grandmother was recording her, his mother--both women.

 

 

 As songwriter producer, he worked through 19 number-one hit singles: 

also her,

 

including her one album, "You Never  Want  Mellow Hopelessly Devoted Magic, Your Magic Love Let Me Know You Never Been Mellow, Greasy, eponymous, Greasey Love," award Grammy Award  Year.