From The RP comes your Sunday morning contemplation —
The Saudi Airplane at Prayer:
He claims no humans were hurt during the making of this piece of art. Of course, I have my doubts as to whom the Religious Policeman considers to belong to this species.
Thought you needed a non-bot comment.
Is that photoshop or a real incident?
Thanks, Hank — those nasty spambots are like little mosquitos that fly around sucking the blood from the top post every morning.
As far as I know, the incident is real. But Dymphna will weigh in later when she gets up.
As far as I know, the Religious Policeman doesn’t photoship his stuff. I think it’s real…
Either way, it’s amusing. For me, if not for the pilot.
I followed the link to the RP website. Not only is the writing top notch, but it is inspirational as well.
Reading the words of the RP, and Irshad Manji, and Hirsi Alii, and other more enlightened muslims gives me great hope for the eventual future, when the jihadis are looked down upon universally by enlightened muslims and non-muslims alike.
Clearly a lot more westernisation is called for in the muslim world. America’s President Bush may have unwittingly stumbled upon one of the few approaches that might actually work, in the long run.
“Sunday Morning Coming Down”
I first heard the song by this name just a few years ago, and now its one of my favorites, though I’ve always liked Johnny Cash. Something in his voice, its timber, its cadence, had an honesty, a celebration of good times and an acknowledgment of guilt and regret, or pain.
It made me smile to run across a reference to the song, because I’ve only ever listened to it alone.
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I’d smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I’d been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I’d lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I’m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothing short a’ dying
That’s half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
Johnny Cash covered it, but Kris Kristofferson wrote the song. KK was — is — gifted, if glib. My favorite of his lines is:
“…I ain’t sayin’ I beat the devil, but I drank his beer
for nothing, and then I stole his song!”
And, of course, Bobby McGee. That song is emblematic of a time and place…
I’ve only ever heard the Janis Joplin cover of Bobby McGee. Wonder how many other hits were written by KK.
There was a great concert aired on PBS last year with just Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson seated on barstools on stage, each playing his guitar without accompaniment. Neither could be called role models, but great performers, great heart, great songs.
I respected Cash more before I read his autobiography, but at least he had the humility to say it like it was, and God is merciful and full of grace. Perhaps that was part of his message.
What species? Must be a Gooney bird. Or perhaps a Blue Tailed Booby.
Kristofferson’s bio won’t thrill anyone…he’s a typical leftie. Or was. Rhodes Scholar. He and Clinton probably get along fine. At one point, he had a conversion experience of some sort, but I don’t think it lasted.
You ought to look at his work, though. He’s done some good stuff and it’s easy to sing. That’s why the many covers.
pst314 — I’d say it was a loon, but Canada has that one sewn up.
Loon? That reminds me of Jeff MacNelly’s cartoon birds. Remember his “Soviet Air Force aircraft recognition silhouettes?” Darn, I miss him.