Peridyd's Progress

I love this band. Lyrics (PG-13, though some might argue R. But they're prudes.) after the video.

But for the cum in your hair,
The cocaine on your teeth
You'd be just like the girls
That I kissed on the heath
Your mother left and you're all alone
And the world is at your feet
You smell like ash, mildew and hash
Can barely even speak
And it's so sad that you're so sad and you're so bad for me
I followed your perfume as you ran down the street
I caught you and held you and pushed back your fringe and swore undying loyalty
We'll make a new art for the people,
A new art for the people
A new art for the people
you and me.

I followed you home
Knocked at your door
Offered myself in the kitchen
Passed out on the floor
And when you shout, I get terrified
And then I love you more
You sound middle class, but I'll let it pass,
I don't understand you at all
And it's so sad that you're so sad and you're so bad for me
I swallowed my pride with a pill and decided to give you back your key
You caught me and held me and I took your hand and swore undying loyalty
We'll make a new art for the people,
A new art for the people
A new art for the people
you and me.

Under the covers forever
Everything well within reach
A small price to pay for our freedom
And for our celebrity
Such ornaments and gorgeous things
Like string lights at the beach
Intensive care and conditioned air
And our faces on TV
And it's so sad but they're so glad that you're so bad for me
The dark days ahead and the blood on the bed and the cover of the NME
They gave us a cheque and took us by our necks and swore undying loyalty
We'll make a new art for the people,
A new art for the people
A new art for the people
you and me.

Posted by Dennis Bennett at 09:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Am I a geek if I find sql-injection jokes humorous?

Just checking...

Source (of course).

Posted by Dennis Bennett at 09:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Now don't get me wrong here, I'm decidedly not endorsing Barak Obama for president (he's a centrist Democrat, which, to me, is too far right to suit my tastes). However, Keillor's comparison between the two--and Keillor has been an Obama supporter for awhile now--is witty enough to pass along.

I, of course, recommend reading the entire Salon article. But, as always, the editor in me can't resist cutting to the chase a bit.

And it's an amazing country where an Arizona multimillionaire can attack a Chicago South Sider as an elitist and hope to make it stick. The Chicagoan was brought up by a single mom who had big ambitions for him, and he got scholarshipped into Harvard Law and was made president of the law review, all of it on his own hook, whereas the Arizonan is the son of an admiral and was ushered into Annapolis though an indifferent student, much like the Current Occupant, both of them men who are very lucky that their fathers were born before they were. The Chicagoan, who grew up without a father, wrote a book on his own, using a computer. The Arizonan hired people to write his for him. But because the Chicagoan can say what he thinks and make sense and the Arizonan cannot do that for more than 30 seconds at a time, the old guy is hoping to portray the skinny guy as arrogant.

Good luck with that, sir.

Meanwhile, the casual revelation last month that Mr. McCain has never figured out how to use a computer and has never sent e-mail or Googled is rather startling. It's like admitting that you've never clipped your own toenails or that you didn't know that toothpaste comes out of a tube because your valet always did that for you. It's like being amazed at the sight of a supermarket scanner. What world does Mr. McCain live in? Where does he keep his sense of curiosity? My 94-year-old mother has sent e-mail. Does somebody plan to show him how it's done and will they explain to him what "LOL" means?

I find that comparison and contrast quite funny, especially because it's good natured and, yet, still delivers the goods.

Posted by Dennis Bennett at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)