Let the Dice Fly
Let the Dice Fly- Why begin with Caesar's speech at the Rubicon? It is relevant and symbolic in so many ways. First, of course, it sets a militant tone, a Roman tone, and America is really the new Rome- the lone remaining super power in the world, that the entire world emulates, but hates. Secondly, there is the relevance in the statement itself, which has taken on meaning of its own in our language. It means ' here goes nothing, and it is too late to turn back now, once I commence. All or nothing.' Another way is 'the die is cast', but that makes it past tense. Caesar said it, AS he was crossing the Rubicon, as he proceeded. Finally, there is this most interesting of insights that I saw in the moment: he was compelled, forced, to act against his country, against society, or it would have acted against him. Had he simply surrendered his army, as was customary, he would most certainly have been prosecuted for trumped up charged, and, at the very least, exiled. He was the best leader for Rome, for the people, but in order to offer them that, and realize his own destiny, he had to act against them. He had to throw the country into civil war, in order to restore and redeem it. It is an interesting irony.

Fist in the Air- As Dave Mustaine once commented, “when you're dancing with the bear, you're not done until the bear is done.” He was talking about heroin use, but I guess it also applies for any obsession, that you try to put away, but returns with a vengeance, and demands you attention and prioritized focus. This was the first one I wrote, once the bear returned. I see the band, metaphorically, as one big fist, and this is THE theme song. I could never wholly embrace doom and gloom bands like Korn, where they permanently remained in the shadows and depths. I'm more interested in redemption, in ascension, in emerging from your despair and rising like a phoenix, in the fight. This is a fight song, and the fight is life.

No Shame- I discovered punk during my senior year of college, and loved the MO of the genre- utter chaos, and turning everything on its head. Some things I had actually done, others I'd heard of being done, and others I would like to have done. I'll leave it to you, to decide which are which.

End of the World- the first song, in earnest, I ever wrote. I based it on a novel I wrote, that of course, no one will ever read, called '18 and Life', based on the Skid Row song. Why is it so long? Well, when you have no band to finish the thing, you can just keep adding lyrics indefinitely. Until, that is, I did actually get the privilege to record it. I could never identify with romantic relationships, so I based this one on an intense brotherly-type relationship that, of course, goes horribly wrong.

These are the Times- modern rock maudlin melodrama, but I liked it at the time, and as I had musicians available at the time, I recorded it.

Open to Me- I never knew what the term 'Unrequited Love' meant. I always thought it sounded really pretentious and stupid, until I learned what it actually DID mean, and discovered that it was, essentially, my whole life and every dame in it. Who is the object of the song? Most of it is, no one in particular- fantasies I had since I was 6 years old or so, but I did finalize on one broad in particular. That is a whole other story, but I always thought of her as an Italian Cindy Crawford. Her name was Danielle, and I did actually ask her out, on down the line. Needless to say, it didn't go well, and when I learned who she was with, who had gotten her, I lost so much respect for her. But lust is lust.

Live to be Young- 'Keep your attention here, and now, where it belongs” was a line from Phantom Menace, and I guess that sums up this one. Resilience, tenacity and perseverance. Nothing really special about this one at all, as I see it, other than the fact that I coaxed a solo out of my guitar player.

To Arms- I try to keep this first offering as non-political as I could, but at some point, my inclinations and ideologies were bound to come out. What's wrong with borders? Be they for a caste, a city, or a nation? Everyone is so obsessed with this ism or that ism. How about survivialism?
Shotgun up your Ass- I've known dudes that have had all varieties of fantasies. One dude in the army actually had a rape fantasy, pertaining to ANYONE. Not exactly my bag, but this is a fantasy, pertaining to about 12 or so SPECIFIC females. Do I have deep-seated issues with women? Sure, and this is only the tip of the iceberg. I was only up for offering the tip, pardon the pun, on this initial offering. And after all, who hasn't fantasized about sodomizing a girl with a shotgun?

Tits Ahoy ! I'm actually more of an assman, but Sir Mix-a-Lot kinda cornered the market on that one, and who can compete with Baby Got Back? I actually messed up the title, as I pictured it as what sailors say when they see land after many months lost at see, which is ho, as in 'Land Ho !.' Ahoy is a greeting, it turns out, as in ' ahoy there mate.' This becomes just as humorous though, when you think of offering such a greeting merely to a pair of tits. I'm ignoring the face and even the person, and just greeting the tits. Tits on Parade was a secondary title, as it does pop up in the title, ad hoc. Everyone seems to have a parade- Gay Pride parade (I”ll be addressing this later), Veterans Parade, Labor Day Parade. Shouldn't tits have their own parade? What a parade that would be, yes?

All American Boy- I had a buddy I knew when I was an undergrad, who was everything I wanted to be- great physique, great looking, got lots of ass, plenty of friends, great undergrad experiences, had stufied abroad, great athlete, etc. Probably a few more greats in there. Sean was his name, though we went to different colleges, we saw each other during breaks, as I recall. I was so envious, but as with most things, it ended poorly; the more I learned of him, from him, the facade began to tear away, until it all collapsed in the end. Not a terrible tragedy, but I did think it was remarkable, that as impressed as you may be with someone, initially, it really doesn't take long for the chinks in the armor to begin to show, so to speak. Wonder what he's up to nowadays.

My Glamorous Life- My fascination with punk coincides with the sentiments of 1920's Russian culture and poets, and my great interest in and study of the aforementioned. The emphasis largely was on aggressive humility, in both areas. One of the main protagonists in Master and Margarita, my favorite novel of the era, was a poet using the pen name Homeless. He was hilarious. This is both a humorous, I think, satire, but also makes a point, and aggressively so. I think I was watching an episode of MTV's cribs, when anyone still watched that channel (if video killed the radio star, and reality killed the video star, who will kill the reality star? Someone, please?) I was bemused by how they were so proud of their shiny, worthless crap, that only new money would be impressed with; not that I am ANY money. Is it any wonder that most of them end up filing bankruptcy, while investing in assets that only depreciate over time, only to impress the lowest common denominator- their own peers, and I suppose their fans also.

Wild One- I was never a big Stooges fan, but this came about, really, from an online series of interactions with this 16 year old hussy. It arose from a Mister Poll on wet t-shirt contests, which she claimed she's participated in one of. She left her contact info, thus I wrote her. She began describing her exploits, and those of her stud brother, and I guess at some point I called b.s. Well, after she sent me pics, I had to revoke my b.s. Assertion. Not only did she send me naked pics of girls that her stud brother had taken of girls he had apparently fucked in college ( All American Boy, Part 2 ?), she sent me pics of her smooching other girls, and one pic I will never forget- of her face covered in jizz. Someone took that pic, evidently, immediately after the facial. What a Johnny on the Spot !

Not without a Fight- This falls along the lines of the Rocky theme, of 'I know I can't beat you, but I want to lose with dignity.' Further still, it is along the lines of a Pyrrhic victory, where your victor is so bloodied, drained and stressed, that it really isn't much of a victory at all. You may beat me, but I'll go down scratching and clawing, and you will never forget me. This victory will come at a price.
I Won't Let you Fall- Originally I had an idea of a song called Falling Off the Edge, which went nowhere, but the idea of falling fascinates me- a fall from grace, dreams of falling, a descent into madness, a downward spiral (which was a Nine Inch Nails album). I'm not heading in the right direction. I'm heading in the wrong direction. Why? What can I do about it? Can it be stopped? The path into despair is a fascinating one, if a harrowing one.