bob dylan gave his first televised interview

in twenty years tonight on sixty minutes and he said that theres no way he could write some of those old classics today.

he said he can do other things, but he said he couldnt pull off tunes like it’s alright ma or blowin in the wind today even though he wrote the latter in ten minutes thirty years ago.

he said that those songs came from the great well-spring of creativity.

a magical place.

he said magic like four times.

bob dylan one of the most articulate and prolific writers of all time boils it all down to magic

cuz what else would you call it.

bob dylan

bringing it all back home

cbs records, 1965

“it’s alright, ma (i’m only bleeding)”

Darkness at the break of noon

Shadows even the silver spoon

The handmade blade, the child’s balloon

Eclipses both the sun and moon

To understand you know too soon

There is no sense in trying.

Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn

Suicide remarks are torn

From the fool’s gold mouthpiece

The hollow horn plays wasted words

Proves to warn

That he not busy being born

Is busy dying.

Temptation’s page flies out the door

You follow, find yourself at war

Watch waterfalls of pity roar

You feel to moan but unlike before

You discover

That you’d just be

One more person crying.

So don’t fear if you hear

A foreign sound to your ear

It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing.

As some warn victory, some downfall

Private reasons great or small

Can be seen in the eyes of those that call

To make all that should be killed to crawl

While others say don’t hate nothing at all

Except hatred.

Disillusioned words like bullets bark

As human gods aim for their mark

Made everything from toy guns that spark

To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark

It’s easy to see without looking too far

That not much

Is really sacred.

While preachers preach of evil fates

Teachers teach that knowledge waits

Can lead to hundred-dollar plates

Goodness hides behind its gates

But even the president of the United States

Sometimes must have

To stand naked.

An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged

It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge

And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it.

Advertising signs that con you

Into thinking you’re the one

That can do what’s never been done

That can win what’s never been won

Meantime life outside goes on

All around you.

You lose yourself, you reappear

You suddenly find you got nothing to fear

Alone you stand with nobody near

When a trembling distant voice, unclear

Startles your sleeping ears to hear

That somebody thinks

They really found you.

A question in your nerves is lit

Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy

Insure you not to quit

To keep it in your mind and not fergit

That it is not he or she or them or it

That you belong to.

Although the masters make the rules

For the wise men and the fools

I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

For them that must obey authority

That they do not respect in any degree

Who despise their jobs, their destinies

Speak jealously of them that are free

Cultivate their flowers to be

Nothing more than something

They invest in.

While some on principles baptized

To strict party platform ties

Social clubs in drag disguise

Outsiders they can freely criticize

Tell nothing except who to idolize

And then say God bless him.

While one who sings with his tongue on fire

Gargles in the rat race choir

Bent out of shape from society’s pliers

Cares not to come up any higher

But rather get you down in the hole

That he’s in.

But I mean no harm nor put fault

On anyone that lives in a vault

But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him.

Old lady judges watch people in pairs

Limited in sex, they dare

To push fake morals, insult and stare

While money doesn’t talk, it swears

Obscenity, who really cares

Propaganda, all is phony.

While them that defend what they cannot see

With a killer’s pride, security

It blows the minds most bitterly

For them that think death’s honesty

Won’t fall upon them naturally

Life sometimes

Must get lonely.

My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards

False gods, I scuff

At pettiness which plays so rough

Walk upside-down inside handcuffs

Kick my legs to crash it off

Say okay, I have had enough

What else can you show me?

And if my thought-dreams could be seen

They’d probably put my head in a guillotine

But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only

ebay + shards of a dream + tiffany

we could hear the kids as we walked up the long griffith park driveway.

and by kids i dont mean drank beer with the kids last night

i mean, actual children.

midget-like creatures.

then we ran into friends who had babies inside of them (pictured)and i swear i wasnt trying to set that picture up,

in fact i recognized laura and bonnie from behind and i was all, oh great lets get a picture of laura and bonnie, and then they turned around and i was all, oh yah, i forgot. duh.

lots of my friends were there. lots of singing and drinking and eating and yapping.

someone had brought a bottle of russian vodka that looked nice and old timey. i put my bottle of rum down and made greyhounds all night.

i ate kentucky ham sandwiches and i put little squares of cheese in there and hot mustard

and someone came around with sugar coated nuts.


i got to talk to some people i hadnt seen in quite a while, i met some nice new people, and i got to hang with my friends who i have known for so long and yet we hardly get together much any more.

around midnight our hosts, kim, my laywer, and os, the host of this blog, stood up in the middle of the room, and announced that they were announcing a date.

everyone gasped.

everyone was so excited.

and then os said, yes, on june second we will be expecting the birth of our baby.


then the guitars came out and everyone started singing some more.

solomon was so happy he sang “autumn” even though it aint autumn out there.

greg and molli drove me home and molli told me a little story about their two year old who said the sweetest thing that morn

and molli misted up a tad.

very sweet.

i have the best friends.

drunken pictures + vaine + nothing special + os and kim