i'll start.

10 years ago i was turning 17, drunk at inflatablevagina's house party off of hot damn and jager, i attempted to go on a cow hunt in the pasture behind her house with all my drunk boyfriends, we got scared, did a group piss around a tree, didnt find any cows. insulted her frankenstein-like boyfriend. got in a fist fight with a marine.

a few months later we (inflatablevagina and i) got kicked out of our first apartment for hosting a brothel, i ran away to denver with another friend, lived in a car for a while, spent a year drunk and stoned on a mountain top and traveling around the west having an existential crisis. somehow woke up one morning and realized i had somehow become the host house for interstate traveling ravers seeking parties in the rockies, hazy memories of debauchery flooded back into my brain, promptly moved back to texas, met a beautiful crazy man, had his baby, married him. had another one of his babies, he quit taking his meds and went really really really fucking crazy, left him for good, bought a house, took 8 years worth of xrays. had some personal trauma. had some personal triumph. embraced a broken heart, lived in poverty, got disowned at least 5 times, read alot of books. battled alcoholism internally and externally, philosophized with friends, experienced loss. experienced joy, became subject to gravity, reveled in inertia, lost momentum, was ruled entirely by emotion and impulse, embraced metaphor, was misunderstood, reunited, gave back, took, volunteered my time, attempted to mentally, physically, spiritually and emotionally available, acted irrationally, behaved selfishly, felt whole sometimes, self-taught, fell in love, stepped in infatuation, gave birth. was a mommy. was a wife. was a tattoo supply delivery girl, was a barista. was a pizza maker. was an xray tech. was a massage therapist. was an insomniac. took in my crazy teenage cousin, dated an old friend, reconciled some family shit. lost my mind, traveled alot, lived simply and briefly caught a hold on inner peace, lost it, went crazy, quit taking xrays, went back to school, embraced the amazingness of unemployment. learned to bake, invented some recipes, had some ideas. ate some cookies. raised some amazing babies. raised some cool ass quirky talented kids, paid alot of bills. abandoned all laws of grammar. flirted with internet addiction, smoked 99999999 packs of cigarettes. and several hundreds bowls, made a sift talk post.

[wind noises]

If I could sample the wind, I would loop it

And let my life poem flow over its sacred beats.

Using Kilimanjaro as my djembe I would drum rainbows out of the moonlight and use them as hooks in between verses; verses of little girls spinning ropes in opposite directions, waiting for an opening to jump in.

As the world turns, double dutch, I jump, double time over oceans and back; the water waves and I wave back.

Rippling echoes of "sunshii-ii-iine" - folks get ground in the "sunshii-ii-iine."

But the lightning flaaash three times and its time for the chorus which includes corn bread, candy yams, and all that good stuff, which black folks on Saturn are made of.

As we approach the second verse the roots of trees are plucked from bass lines, which resonate and shake the earth -- devastating everything that's not built in harmony in it.

The second verse is a journey through the ruins of ruined souls; that valued all that was nothing, and nothing of the all-knowing ever flowing wind - which is the undercurrent of this current blowing, the funky drummer from here to eternity.

But even as ruined souls backspin, the wind mills forward and rocks steady 'till the sun hits the fader and the chorus kicks in; then the moon yells "Go!" and we all backspin -- ZULU! As the moonlight shines true blue silvery indigo light my spirit takes flight - because the moonlight is my indigo; indigo ON, to the break of dawn, I rock rock steady steady 'till the early morn, word is bond I'm talking about seeing your nature in nature innate in your nature - New York states of mind did not create ya.

Not until you listen to Rakim on a rocky mountain top have you heard hip-hop.

Extract the urban element that created it and let an open wide countryside let us illustrate it.

Riding in a freight train listening to Coltrane and my reality went insane and I think I saw Jesus; he was playing hop-scotch with Betty Carter who was cursing him out in a scat-like-gibberish for not saying "Butterfingers."

And like the grains of sand, like the seeds of time, the pains of Man, the frames of mind which built these frames which is the structure of my urban superstructure. The trains and planes can corrupt and obstruct your train of thought so that you forget how to walk through the woods which ain't good, 'cause if you never walked through the trees listening to 'Nobody Beats The Biz' you ain't never heard hip-hop.. and you don't stop, and you don't stop, and you don't...

STOP lettin' cities define you, confine you to that which is cement and brick.

We are not a hard peoples, our domes have been crowned with the likes of steeples. That which is our being soars with the eagles, and the Jonathon Livingston seagulls - Yes - I got wings, you got wings, we all got to got wings!

So let's widen the circumference of our nest, and escape this urban incubator -

You see, the wind plays the world like an instrument; blows through trees like flutes but trees don't grow in cement. And as heartbeats bring percussion, fallen trees bring repercussions; cities play upon our souls like broken drums, we drum the essence of creation from city slums - but city slums mute our drums and our drums become humdrum, 'cause city slums have never been where our drums are from - just the place where our daughters and sons become, off-beat heartbeats, slaves to city streets, where hearts get broken and heart beats stop - broken heart beats become break beats for niggas to rhyme on top, but they rhyme about... NOTHIN'.

You don't got nothin' to rhyme about 'cause you've never seen the moon, your styles can't be universal if you're not in tune, with the... [wind noises]

The times have changed, this video has been sifted!
previous attempt:
http://www.videosift.com/video/Architecture-in-Helsinki-Do-The-Whirlwind-byP-Robertson

Pixelart video by Paul Robertson
http://probertson.livejournal.com

AIH: http://architectureinhelsinki.com/

Lyrics "Do The Whirlwind":

She said you'd given up,
Your folks told me you should be left alone,
On a mountain top knocking the aeroplanes down with stones.
Do the whirlwind and carry the hope that stings all night long,
Don't abandon him 'cause he quivers when he hears your song,

Believe me, it's safe to see.
At least be confused about right and wrong,
Plan to settle down,
Over the moon under the sun.
Do the whirlwind and shotgun the seat that beats that beats
Hanging on to the one you love
To keep keepin', sleepin', dreamin' on.

Folks given up under the quivers and lines,
You do the whirlwind,
Don't abandon,
Get a handle of yourself, son.

I congratulate you on breaching the mountain top that is the 100s club, they server cheese dip and cheap imported beer there.

I still believe your political views are all wrong and can be all expressed through a usage of a rude 4 letter word.

ok bighaid, here's it inna nutshell-
Most idiot sticks from the last couple of generations, have racism all fucked up- They seem to think that the simple use of a word in the lexicon, or the mention of some colloquialism or vernacular, the simple act of speaking it, warrants a racist label.

If I write the word nigger, or chink, or frog, the flags go up, the alarms go off, in their finite, tunnel-reality minds, and they recoil, disassociate and distance themselves from the perpetrator, and cry "RACISM!!", from their insulated, enlightened mountain top, because of course, they have no "isms" they deal with, their viewpoints and sensibilities being the most progressive, humane, etc, etc, barf my guts out.

This woman, iMHO, knows she has a gift-she is as funny as the best comedians in the world, and has missed her calling, wasting time on access Atlanta..(incidentally, I called the station, wanting to speak with this Nubian goddess, and get her books, and auto =graph, hell, buy her dinner and talk about vagina power, till we were both high on truth-)

She may or may not be genuine, there is more research needed-

BIGHEAD, your comment about some folks in Chicago who make fun???-Assholes who cannot appreciate the wealth that people, other than their own, their family, dumb-ass friends, etc., are easy to spot-I don't know why you don't find Alexis funny, enlightening, etc., you probly' do not have a history around black folks...(to write or say African-American, borders on abhorrent for this sifter, because it is contrived newspeak bullshit, the cultural ejaculations of as twisted of induviduals as any KKK lifetime members) so you don't laugh, because you either have no sense of humor, no cultural experiences outside your comfortable tunnel-reality, or, you are a racist, posing as some holier-than-thou, progressive-or, all these observations could be wrong, and I am an Irishman, who takes offence at the word "CRAZY" and "IRISH", in the same sentence-What's in your :accustomed to" wallet???

One of my favorite lines from a comedian, Paul Mooney, (look him up) is from a response to his brand of high-comedy-

I paraphrase, this god among men-
"You don't want me to say nigger?? White folks invented the word and they don't want me to say it, ain't that a bitch!!??-I say nigger a hundred times every morning, it makes my teeth white, "nigger,nigger,nigger,nigger,nigger,nigger,nigger,nigger,nigger.....Nigger!!!"

Now-I am a white American male-and there are no doubt some out there reading this who think that I am a racist, and guess what???/ That is THEIR problem, not mine, knee-grow!!!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9th_Company

he 9th Company (Russian: «9 рота») is a Russian / Finnish film by Fyodor Bondarchuk about the Soviet war in Afghanistan released in 2005. The film follows a band of young recruits from a farewell ceremony with friends and family back home, through their often brutal training in Uzbekistan's Fergana Valley, up to a bloody battle on a mountain top in Afghanistan against the mujahideen.

The film is based on events which took place in early 1988 during the last large-scale Soviet military operation "Magistral". In the movie, only one soldier from the company survives and the company is said to have been "forgotten" by the military command because of the Soviet withdrawal.

During the actual event, the 9th Company, 345th Guards Airborne Regiment was pinned down under heavy fire on "Hill 3234" between 7 and 8 January 1988. They managed to stop several attacks by an estimated 200-400 mujahideen and Pakistani mercenaries. The company lost 6 men. Another 28 out of the total 39 were wounded. Two of the killed soldiers were posthomously awarded the golden star of the Hero of the Soviet Union. The unit was in constant communication with headquarters and got everything the regimental commander, Colonel Valery Vostrotin, and 40th Army Commander, General Boris Gromov, had to offer in terms of artillery support.

The film received a mixed reaction from the veterans of that war, who pointed to a number of inaccuracies, but nevertheless, judging by ticket sales, was embraced by the general public, and even by Russian President Vladimir Putin. It was also given the Golden Eagle Award for the Best Feature Film by the Russian Academy of Cinema Arts.

It was directed by Fyodor Bondarchuk, the son of classic Soviet film director Sergei Bondarchuk, whose 1959 Destiny of a Man was a landmark in film treatments of World War II and who also shot an Oscar-winning epic, based on Leo Tolstoy’s novel War and Peace.

Although not the first movie to be made about the Soviet Army's experience in Afghanistan (others included the 1991 classic Afghan Breakdown by Vladimir Bortko), 9th Company was the first attempt by Russian filmmakers to create a big-screen, big-budget movie about that war, comparable to the American Vietnam War movies of the 1980s (Platoon, Full Metal Jacket, Born on the Fourth of July). The film, made for $9 million with help from the United Kingdom's Shepperton Studios, was released in September, 2005 and became a Russian box office hit, generating $7.7 million in its first five days of release alone, a new domestic record.

In 2006, Russia selected the movie as its candidate for Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film nomination.

Generally I'm not a huge fan of henry rollins, but this needs to be broadcast from every mountain-top...