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from the archives

Spider...


Look, it's the brother to this spider. Hmm.

Spider...

Bob and Ben

- Robert - Tuesday, October 27th, 2009 : goo

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image 36780

My Bob and Ben, acrylic on cardboard painting, dedicated to Philadelphia.

This article was viewed 10166 times (Counting ceased in 2017)


Internet Archive: web.archive.org/web/*/http://citynoise.org/article/9987

CartLegger: 27th Oct 2009 - 22:45 GMT

I'm sure they woulda...got along?

Interesting image contrast and content, to be sure!

EvilGentleman: 28th Oct 2009 - 01:48 GMT

Would've been funny to stick the cigarette in Ben's mouth instead.

Rob: 28th Oct 2009 - 05:01 GMT

Thats not sexual at all.

Galloping Greg: 28th Oct 2009 - 06:01 GMT

^^^ Ditto. Is it my fault that my head is now filled with troubling fantasies of Dylan furiously riding Franklin? It's UNAMERICAN, I tell you!

Franny Wentzel: 28th Oct 2009 - 07:02 GMT

I would think Ben Franklin would've grooved to the song stylings of Bob Marley and the Wailers...

Robert: 28th Oct 2009 - 15:28 GMT

I can assure you that Bob and Ben had just about finished singing all the songs in Higway 61 Revisited when the painting was done... and, please, let me make clear to some of the boys above, that there wasn't any intention, whatsoever, of placing any cheap sixy stuff in that painting. More likely it's all ideological, economical, historical, Philadelphical and most of all ironical. Remember that Franklyn was a good American rebel, as much as Dylan was in the sixties, both, with many shades of green...
And Franny, let me thank you once more for teaching ad helping me out in this site. Love your style! So, please check out if some of The Wailers are still around to see if they're willing to remake the following song:

The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
The city fathers they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
But the town has no need to be nervous

The ghost of Belle Starr she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber of commerce

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for FOOD
I'm in the KITCHEN
With the tombstone blues

The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
Says, "My advice is to not let the boys in"

Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride
"Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die, it's not poison"

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for FOOD
I'm in the KITCHEN
With the tombstone blues

Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me to get sick in?"

The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken"

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for FOOD
I'm in the KITCHEN
With the tombstone blues

The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
Then sends them out to the jungle

Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic collection of stamps
To win friends and influence his uncle

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for FOOD
I'm in TROUBLE
With the tombstone blues

The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
At Delilah who's sitting worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter

Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for FOOD
I'm in the KITCHEN
With the tombstone blues

Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul
To the old folks home and the college

Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
That could hold you dear lady from going insane
That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
Of your useless and pointless knowledge

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for FOOD
I'm in the KITCHEN
With the tombstone blues

Galloping Greg: 2nd Nov 2009 - 15:49 GMT

Ha ha ha, I was just kidding, Robert ;-)

Robert: 2nd Nov 2009 - 16:25 GMT

Of course, GG, what else is there to do? I was kidding too!
If we take things too seriously we're bound to wind up in Calvary, Greenwood or Cypresss Hill sooner than we'd expect.
Don't you like the Tombstone Blues lyrics posted above your last comment?

joey: 7th Nov 2009 - 02:41 GMT

high jinx. i strive for it as well [whenever i can]

}

joey: 7th Nov 2009 - 02:47 GMT

high jinx. second attempt at linking

crosstowncorrespondence.blogspot.com/2009/11/jyk10312.html

Robert: 7th Nov 2009 - 20:49 GMT

Joey, just took a glance at your crosstowncorrespondence link and found it amazing. your Man Ray friend is an excellent "Post (mail) Artist". I assume that you're the one with Ray at the 1982 photo.

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from the archives

Re: Cycle / Rickshaws


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Re: Cycle / Rickshaws

from the archives

It's a Ghost!


It's a ghost! Okay,it's just a kid swinging from a deck...

It's a Ghost!

from the archives

The Cemetery of No


The Linden Hill United Methodist Cemetery lies right on the border between has an affinity for signage... Or perhaps a for rules and order, as it were... Nothing like having a giant list of rules, courtesy of "the management", as...

The Cemetery of No