America needs a new Jello

It is strange how the songs of Jello Biafra and The Dead Kennedys are more relevant than ever. Scary and slightly prophetic b/c Trump takes the prejudice and oozing vibes of death to the next level – which even Jello could not have predicted. Reagan was a heartfelt Santa compared to Trump the hate monger.

From the album Frankenchrist (1985)

“This Could Be Anywhere (This Could Be Everywhere)”

Cold concrete apartments
Rise up from wet black asphalt
Below them a few carcasses
Of the long gone age of privacy

It takes a scary kind of illness
To design a place like this for pay
Downtown’s an endless generic mall
Of video games and fast food chains

One by one
The little houses are bricked up and condemned
A subtle hint to move
Before the rats move in

This could be anywhere
This could be everywhere
Those new kids at school seem cool
But dad says not to talk to them
Stick to your old friends
They’re not our kind
So now there’s lots of fights

So many people I know
Come of age tense and bitter-eyed
Can’t create so they just destroy
C’mon!
Let’s set someone’s dog on fire

Empty plastic
Culture slum suburbia
Is a war zone now
Sprouting the kinds of gangs
We thought we’d left behind

This could be anywhere
This could be everywhere
Kids at school are taking sides
Along color and uniform lines
My dad’s gone and bought a gun
He says he’s fed up
With crime in this town
This could be anywhere
This could be everywhere
This could be anywhere
This could be everywhere
Anywhere
Everywhere
I hope I’m gone before it explodes
I linger late at night
Waiting for the bus
No amount of neon jazz
Could hide the oozing vibes of death
My dad’s a vigilante now
He’s bringing home these weird-ass friends
Like the guy who fires blanks at his TV
When Kojak’s on
Or the guy who shows off his submachine gun
To his sixteen-year-old daughter’s friends
Whose sense of pride and hope
Is being in the police reserve

This could be anywhere
This could be everywhere-Everywhere

shriner_frankenchrist

American prophetic dystopia by Jonze & the Butler brothers in the short film

Scenes From the Suburbs…

Is this short a future glimpse of living in America if Trump comes to power?

Arcade Fire/Jonze & Jello shared nightmare visions of a even more divided and segregated America feels closer than ever – with Trump so close to the ultimate power.

America, how did it get to this?

Even if Trump looses. What about the next election? What Evil Character will take his place?

It is downright scary.

Man oh man, USA.

Wake up.  Please.

The fear is here.

 dkny

We need another Jello…

Segregation 2016 Milwaukee

http://politiken.dk/tv/udland/ECE3451183/dokumentar-sort-hvid-milwaukee—knaekker-usa-over-i-to/

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March 31, 1996

RIP JLP

germansoundsclose_jpg

Underneath where nobody finds me
All the brothers are gone
I can see the passing refugees
Flowing, they are flowing

Nobody saw it get to my head
No, they can’t find me
Calling loud deep in the dark ravine
Flowing, oh, I’m flowing

Flowing back along the village river bed
As the water flows underneath my head

All the brothers have gone back overseas
Girlies pass me by
I had the meanest heart you’ve ever seen
Flowing, oh, I’m flowing

If I could crawl out of this yawning earth
Go find Suzy-Boo
We’d smoke gold in the dreamland too
Flowing, we are flowing

Flowing by my river to the sea
By my mean old spirit in the trees

I turned my face to the sound above
No, they can’t see me
Old bones are just food for the trees
Flowing, oh, I’m flowing

There was lies and fires in the hills
Down the living streets
Their smoke blows back my memories
Flowing, they are flowing

Flowing down the river to the sea
Flowing mean old bones in the stream

If these bones could ever sail a while
For an extra mile
They’d flow just like the river Nile
Flowing, they are flowing

JLP

Come down to the willow garden
with me
come go with me
come go and see

Although I’ve howled across fields and my eyes
turned grey
are yours still the same?
are you still the same?

Carry Home
I have returned
through so many highways
and so many tears

Your letter never survived the heat of
my hand
my burning hand
my sweating hand

Your love never survived the heat of
my heart
my violent heart
in the dark

Carry Home
I have returned
through so many highways
and so many tears

Carry Home to where I am from
carry to the place that I have come
carry to the dust and flies behind me
carry to the cracks and caves on the face of me

Oh, but I didn’t change, I just had to work
Yeah, but I didn’t change, I just had to work
and now I’m home, and now I’m home
do you still want me?
Now, that I’m home

Come down to the willow garden with me
come go with me
come go and see