IMa.Gi.BAND

Tag: fiction

  • Post #12: “We’re Panicking Now Greta” by RAINboW jackson (6/6/25)

    “We’re Panoinking Now Greta”

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    Jeff McLean is with Ramon Dosher and
    6 others

    They’re panicking now, Greta Tune berg
    Headstone houses radiate
    the faintest sound from within
    Discordia strumming chords
    from corrupted heartstrings
    A shadow song
    Sighed quietly
    by sirens
    of the psyche
    Love in the time of
    corona
    Core rupture in the
    Core zone
    Crown hymn
    with many crimson crowns
    Cauliflowering clusters of blood-soaked ball caps
    emerging from spiked protein arms
    Murmur has it
    Murica’s been
    reMade to grate again
    Put away your condoms for the dumb cons
    Put away your qualms, son
    Here’s a calm gun
    We reserved our panic
    when our students were riddled with bullets
    Saved it all up for
    when they got sent home from school
    We reserved our panic
    when the leftmost State
    on the map
    of our union
    Erupted in flames
    And again when the land Down Under
    Performed a dramatic re-enactment of
    Mount Horeb’s Burning Bush
    First the virus came for the communists, and I did not speak out—
    Because I was not a communist.
    Then it came for the european unionists, and I did not speak out—
    Because I was not a european unionist.
    Then it came to this Land
    Made for you and me
    Yeah, you know this tune, man
    Yesiree!
    one Nay
    shunned under god
    We’re panicking now, you Great Thorn bird
    Some call it The Boomer Doomer
    Really terrible, am eYe rite?
    I’m no misanthrope, nope
    but I listened listlessly while
    my own myopia scolded me, saying:
    You knot only mist the fire
    You’re entirely blind to the whole rope-a-dope!
    We humans are malleable, misinformed creatures
    Taking the shape
    of our indoctrination
    Deflated when tentacles yank from our brains
    Inflated when new ones get stuck there again
    Our picnicking lips mouthing black and white Rosebuds
    Or… well?
    Or… sun wells?
    Baby Jessica’s death knell
    The toll of them bells
    Unheard in hidden valleys
    Where rich men snort caked lines
    of cocaine betwixt
    salty, sick,
    sweat-slick
    fake silicon tits
    Binge on big bowls of ranch
    dressing-drenched
    bacon bits
    atop tips of iceberg
    Let us
    pray
    Let us
    predate
    predation
    Let us
    masticate
    Art official
    Chi Cha
    row knees, and
    Eee Ching runes
    A Circular surge
    from womb to tomb
    The latest falsely reported death
    is More gun
    than Free man:
    A Mandala effect
    This too shall pass
    gas
    But will it pass
    mustered?
    Catch up if you can…
    Many shall pass, too
    Many ways to pass through
    a threshold, it’s true
    a waterline divines a dividing line
    between this thorny crowned quagmire and
    the malaria aquarium’s white whine
    Yep, we’re panicking now Greta Thunberg
    Wipe that grin off your face, you
    Pestilent child!
    Care you not?
    My streaming service
    has been interrupted!
    My dreaming shellfish
    have surrendered their pearls
    under the stress of interrogation
    This virus flows
    memetically
    merrily
    down
    this scary stream
    Will we ever – even once? –
    awaken
    airily
    from this great
    american
    dream?
    I’m panicking now, Greta
    Thunberg
    I can’t even finish my
    hamberder…


    June 6, 2025 at 6:32 AM

  • Post # 3: “Roll Me In The Ditch” by Knapp Sach & The Dharmic Path

    “Roll Me In The Ditch”

    Well as I’m walkin’ ‘long these railroad tracks
    Looking for a nice’n shady place to fry some flap jacks
    Got a Mason jar of bacon grease in this here knap sack
    And if you meet me on the road…
    You’ll know I don’t mind sharin’
    That which I might be carryin’

    Yet some say you ought’a be careful with this life
    As if living it ain’t gonna cause each one of us to die
    So if you’re one to take a gifted inch and turn it to a mile
    Well that’s just another mile on the road
    And if you meet me on that row
    Ode

    Hit me in the head and roll me in the ditch
    You can shoot me in the head and roll me in the ditch
    If you’re questioning the meaning of a scratch you gotta itch
    And you meet the Buddha on the road
    If you meet the Buddha on that row
    Owed

    Do any’all remember when the red, white, and blue
    Was a piece of fabric for pledgin’ ‘legience to?
    It didn’t call for blood a’Biden by white guys with balls a’blue
    Well, if you meet me on the road
    Yeah, if you meet me on that row
    Ode

    Just stab me in the back and roll me in the grass
    Stab me in the back and roll me in the grass
    If you’re questioning the message of an itch you wanna scratch And you meet the Buddha on the road
    And you meet the Krishna on that low
    Rode

    Well I think I’m done in- carnatin’ to this Earth
    ‘Cuz the idea of sin is simply fuckin’ with my worth
    All these folks fetishizin’ an absurd virgin birth
    Please!
    If you meet me on the road
    Yeah, When you meet me on that Roe
    Don’t Wade!
    No!

    Punch me in the dick
    And tell me that I’m gay
    You can kick me in the balls
    And call me Doris Day
    If you’re questionin’ the fishes
    ‘Bout the water in the bay
    And you meet Sweet Jesus on the road
    Or you meet the Buddha on the road
    Or you meet Mohammed on the road
    Or you meet Moses on the road
    Or maybe, even, Moses Malone
    Oh, Brother Louis Farrakhan
    Or Hakeem “The Dream” Olajuwon
    Or maybe, even, Ponch and John
    Just don’t forget whose side you’re on
    (the Other one, brother!),
    Juan

    Hit me in the head and roll me in the ditch
    You can shoot me in the head and roll me in the ditch
    While you’re measuring the trees to choose a branch to make a switch
    And you meet the Jesus on the road
    While you are eatin’ Cheez-Its on that road
    Yeah, if you meet the Buddha on the row woe whoa wooooooe Ode…

    Just kill ’em

    Musical Prompt:

    “Roots/Bluegrass/String/Acoustic Folk Music in the style of the film “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou” sung by a wry singer”

    Background:

    “Roll Me In The Ditch” was the very first song I ever asked SUNO to generate for This Human, utilizing it’s “Artificial” Intelligence to bring life to a set of lyrics, a song title, and a Musical Prompt. In the seven months I’ve been collaborating with SUNO, no other song has come closer to manifesting What I’d Imagined The Song To Be as “Roll Me In The Ditch” did. This is day three of this One Post Per Day blog, and there are only two hours left in this day, and I’ve already expended most of the energy I posses at a city commission meeting earlier this evening, so we’re just going to leave things at that. “Roll Me In The Ditch” is a seminal moment in the collaboration between This Human and Some Facet of Art official Intelligence. We’ll delve more deeply into that in subsequent posts, but for now please just appreciate the sounds and the sights that Our Future Malevolent/Benevolent Overlords have shared with our Limited Human Intelligence.