The other day, I was so worn out and disillusioned I opted for a more opaque and distant approach to voicing my frustrations. I went with the uplifting and melodic Better Way by Ben Harper.
Today is not that day. Today I’ve seen the sunshine and heard the laughter of my daughter and hugged my wife enough that I’m inoculated from my own depression. Today, I’m pissed off.
I have two main weapons (fear, surprise, a fanatical devotion to the Pope): satire and sincerity.
The first comes in the form of I’m the Decider, a song to be sung to the tune of I am the Walrus:
I am me and Rummy’s he, Iraq is free and we are all together
See the world run when Dick shoots his gun, see how I lie
Sitting on my own brain, waiting for the end of days
Corporation profits, Bloody oil money
I’m above the law and I’ll decide what’s right or wrong
I am the egg head, I’m the Commander, I’m the Decider
Baghdad city policeman sitting pretty little targets in a row
See how they die when the shrapnel flies see mothers cry
I’m Lying…I’m Ly-ing…I’m Lying…I’m Ly-ing
Yellow cake uranium, imaginary WMD’s
Declassifying facts, exposing secret agents
Tax cuts for the wealthy leaving all the poor behind
Sitting in the White house garden talking to the Lord
My thoughts would be busy busy hatching If I only had a brain
(courtesy of Paul Hipp)
The second is a song called Dear Mr. President by Pink. Duane mentioned it in the comments of my first post and I found a video of a live performance on YouTube (no embedding this time, I’m trying to cut back).
Neither one is perfect, but together they do a good job of encapsulating most of what I feel and think when I read the news or turn on the TV. And music seems to be my outlet recently. Fire up iTunes and get my work done, drowning out all this mess.