Styx

Your Morning Music (Together)

James Young (left) and Tommy Shaw of Styx, in detail of undated photo by Jason Powell.

Sometimes, you know, you think you need a reason for doing something. If we had better discipline around here, maybe a regular music feature would be actually useful in some way, because, you know, a stoner song in April or Satanic metal on Hallowe’en is one thing, but then sometimes we remember we don’t actually need a reason. But, yeah, you know, it’s a good wake and bake, too. Like, if you really, you know, need a reason. You know?

Rush down, down to the first floor; there never seems to be enough time. Push hard, and push a little bit more. A cup of coffee and I’m going to be fine, fine as I could be, now. Me and you, we do what we got to do; we only want to have a good life. It’s tough, we don’t see each other enough, and sometime the going gets rough. Still we keep pushing on through. We could use another summer of love. It’s cloudy here, but there’s a blue sky up above. If we could only fly away from here, we could say goodbye to all the tears, and maybe we could spend the rest of our years together. Sometimes I watch the TV news; I want to say what’s the use in trying, ’cause come on, what kind of difference can one man make? Yeah, but how much more can I take? I think back when I was a little kid, I did what little kids did: played war ’til I didn’t want to play no more, hey and that’s when love stepped in, changed everything again. It’s never too late for a summer of love. Yeah, it’s cloudy here, but there’s a blue sky up above. If we could only fly away from here, we could say goodbye to all the tears, and maybe we could spend the rest of our years together. We could be together. These are crazy times, it’s a different world. Well, that’s okay, let it be that way. We could lose our minds, or we could find our way; we can change our world, no matter what they say. If we could only fly away from here, we could turn around and say good-bye to all the tears, and maybe we could spend the rest of our years together. We could be together. Now, we can let the sunshine in, together; and we can overcome and win, together; we’ll have ourselves a summer of love again, together. We’ll be, we’ll be together. We’ll be together.

Styx, “Together” (2003)

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Why Grown-Ups Shouldn’t Play Army Soldier

Ah, Arizona!

I think back when I was a little kid, I did what little kids did—played war ’til I didn’t want to play no more. Hey, and that’s when love stepped in, changed everything again.

Styx

The problem with playing Army soldier is that playing Army soldier is a child’s game. Or, for some people, it is apparently an act of patriotism, because nothing says, “America!” like threatening a bunch of scientists because you’re too stupid to konw what is actually going on while you tromp around in the dark, looking for someone to threaten, pretending you’re some sort of soldier.

Or maybe we just call it responsible gun ownership. After all, what’s the point of owning a gun if you don’t have anyone to threaten?

Three scientists who were studying bats in a cave near the U.S.-Mexico border in southern Arizona were confronted by heavily armed militiamen who mistook them for illegal border-crossers or smugglers . . . .

. . . . The Arizona researchers reportedly told a sheriff’s deputy they were walking back to their campsite on Aug. 23 when a group of men who later identified themselves as a militia group shone a spotlight and started shouting at them in Spanish, the Nogales International reported.

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Stupid

Pinterest, via Facebook.

Something, something, something, Dark Side.

I would be disappointed in my friends, but this is Facebook, and that’s not allowed. We’re only allowed to “Like”.

Then again, it’s a great reminder. That is, perhaps I need new friends, but they’re just Facebook friends. So, you know. Whatever.

Still, though, Tommy Shaw keeps coming to mind. I wonder why?

Then again, I suppose it’s better than the twenty jokes from Tickld. No, really, why would anyone torture their “friends” with this excrement?