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Saturday, June 12, 2010


Gustav Graves: You see, I have a gift. An instinct for sensing people's weaknesses. Yours is women. Hers and mine are winning, whatever the cost. So when I arranged for that fatal overdose for the true victor at Sydney, I won myself my very own MI6 agent, using everthing at my disposal - her brains, her talent, even her sex.

James Bond: The coldest weapon of all.

ANYTHING can be a weapon or a method of control if you know what you're doing. Your words, for example, could break someone's spirit and in some cases that kind of emotional distress can manifest itself in physical maladies. Obviously physical abuse is a self-explanatory method of controlling a person, keeping them afraid and in line. But one that is just as dangerous can be sex. In your view of things you could be having that Drake type intercourse ("Best I Ever Had"), unaware that your significant other is using that insanely pleasurable act to keep you in the place where they want you. This particular post is about just that.

Hurdy-Gurdy Lilting

Male VO
We deal in power. We deal in perception. We cannot prosper nor long endure if we are perceived to be…dancing to the music of a hurdy-gurdy.

Hurdy-gurdy music plays

Verse One
Wind the crank, skank
I’m the turn key you’re robbing
Rather robin red breast in cages
For the subtle rages
Blake broken when fingers turn pages
To the chapter written
Openly smitten by seductive wares
That took faculties with no class
Crass to even consider being bitter
When hands grip an ass
A fool making donkeys of stranded, Circe
Curse be the lack of focus in I
When eyes blink then shudder
Heart minus syllables stutter
Murmur and mutter at the change
When it’s strange
There is no drive since there’s no pedal
Nothing left to steel since you took my medal
And my metal and the mettle of men
Who knew honor to the first sound
Before a switch and a bitch, a complaint
Bozo men and left boys clowned
Tapped out submission after double downs
Only to remain the way she left
Bereft of the struggle so beautiful, right?
The plight of the phoenix, remixed
Worst the second time around again
Then shallow scars made my Shalamar
Get ready…tonight, since I remember your touch
Not Midas, I paid mine, probably go dutch
Or Dutch to break beats or even dikes
Finger left in it, only words are damn and dam, if you like

Male VO

Hurdy-gurdy music plays

Verse Two
Flip the switch, bitch
Turn off lights for teddy bears and Pendergrass
In the grass snake sort of lady
Constant warring like Beatty
Lumberjack the pirate when shiver timbers, matey
Cap’n crunch me down low
Past praying ho to the bottom
Masters bait, feeling themselves much
Touch life with a wilting finger
Bittersweet like some Cranberries
When you make me linger
Rest in you lap where no light escapes
She rapes attention, leaving deficit
Deaf is this when your sound is only heard
In love and to hate with the absurd
When your loving drains the seed
In your greed
Nothing left to shoot off, dear
The guttural fuck whispers are only here
And all the trained drums are made to hear
They’re over there, bodies making out
Then in again with a life threatening stroke
Only doom in the room, rude intruder
Pharaoh whips and makes Moses of boys
Broken backed Jake of no Gomorrah sister
In puddles on the floor, dripping
Slipping into control so vodka and Absolut, right?
The call of max pain, another refrain
Hurting in those mean old Harlem Blues
She was my sinner, my Cynda
Clark bent on this Benecourt
No Occam, didn’t shave, she’s the razor
Or raiser who raises my tower
With her flower, sniff, high off papi and poppy