Open Letter To George Harrison, Post-Humously

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re:
Everyone has a choice
When to and not to
Raise their voice

Dear George
What were John & Paul thinking?

When you were a Beatle, how
could they ignore this 
poignant lyric 
of yours?

The song would have made
a perfect B-side for
Revolution #9

Just because John Paul had 
the same name as that mega-
rockstar Pope didn't mean
being the chosen leaders 
of THE BEATLES entitled 
them to wear blinders 
like so many Popes 
throughout 
history.


Maybe Ringo should have occasionally played drum rolls 
on the noggins of Lennon & McCartney.

Everyone has a mind...To be and when not to be just kind

Why do so few people remember what John Lennon said 
to Hunter Davies in the Beatles' only authorized biography? 

Everytime we learned a new chord from George,

we'd write a song around it. 

John said that in approximately 1964.

You wrote

Everyone has a choice

When to and not to

Raise their voice

no more than nine years after the photo 
was taken for "EARLY TAKES."

That magnificent mantra introduced 
your song entitled Run of the Mill.

It also inspired a politician to say
Freedom of speech is dangerous 
without the freedom of silence.



For all intents and porpoises, this letter began many years ago, 
when you were thinking about Ludwig Von Beethoven & Chuck Berry.

The recording date was July 30, 1963

Your second album (With The Beatles)
was released in the UK 
on November 22, 1963 

While John, Paul, and Ringo provided the hand-clapping,
you (the lead singer) sang

I'm gonna write a little letter,
Gonna mail it to my local DJ

Almost fifty-two years later, I am still struggling
with the choice of when to write a letter
and when not to write


But because of you, Mr. Harrison, I struggle
much less than I used to.


All things must pass.

Mantras are meaningless without repitition
Everyone has a choice
When to and not to
Raise their voice

 You may now choose 
to start your search engines

The next Beatles' page is here.

Now, it's time to say goodnight
but hey there Georgie Boy if, 
perchance, you dispose 
of this letter before 
reading it, I would 
not blame you 
at all.


I had no choice 
but to write it!




  

Sincerely,
Paul CarPeo

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STREET ART UTOPIA (#16)

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The artist is  SINACHU

"We Declare the World Our Canvas"
-The Petite Pontiff

In the land of the Little People

There is a Lake of Milk

And a Coca-Cola

Steeple

 




With Marvin's  score
And sooo much
More

The next Street Art Utopian is featured  here.

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Photoverio © (#52): The Blue Hypota Loose

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© Oliverio
The Pool Is Cool
(2006) 

 Be it known...the Hypota Loose–
 herein rippled by a goose–

 is equal to the swimular sum
 of your imagination
 and its height

(at any hour of the day
 or moment of the night)

 you can square it,  root it...
 or you can just get
 wonderfully wet



 
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Footnotes
THE BLUE HYPOTA LOOSE is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

The next Photoverio is  here.
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I Dedicate This Image To Martin Luther King

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center: Gold Medalist  TOMMY SMITH  (American)
left: Silver Medalist  PETER NORMAN  (Australian)
right: Bronze Medalist  JUAN CARLOS  (American)


1968 Summer Olympics

event: 200 METERS

photographer:  John Dominis 

The true colors of this 1968 image
are gold, silver and bronze.

Whatever emotions the fists of
Mr. Smith & Mr. Carlos  inspired
at that time have–in 2015–morphed
into the "fist-bump" becoming
a desirable variation of the
American handshake.

No less than the non-violent legacy
of  MARTIN LUTHER KING
is responsible for the
transformation of
a clenched fist
into a modern
salutation.

Please celebrate Dr. King's Birthday
in a peaceful, pleasurable
& fun manner.    
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I Pledja Legentz

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© Oliverio
Division Street Decor
(not 1963) 

I pledja legentz
to the bathmat on the wall
photographed by a guy named Paul

Steve McQueen
&
Neile Adams
(1963)
photographed by
John Dominis

He thinks it pretty keen

to have been stepped on
by Mr & Mrs. McQueen

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Rachel Galvin's Excellent Poem, Presented Verbatim

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Ortolans
by Rachel Galvin

Speaking of blindness, the man told his one-eyed fiancée,
have you heard about the ortolans? Fig-peckers of yellowhammer
descent. Thumb-sized or tongue-sized. Kings used to catch them
at summer’s end, knife-blind them so that in their darkness
they’d feast on millet all day, all night, a break from beetles and seeds,
until they grew from one ounce to four. Drowned
in Armagnac, plucked, placed in a saucepan, roasted,
you eat them whole, so the head dangles between your lips,
crunch bones like hazelnuts, underneath the linen napkin
you must place over your head to create a scent tent
or, so God won’t see your shame. (Proust paired
them with sips of Yquem, a sauterne born of noble
rot — grapes like ashes, their wet dried
in the nick of time, so honeysuckle turns to bitter
finish.) Mediterranean salt emerges as flight bursts
in your mouth. Imagine yourself a memory, a body full
of meal, as Mitterrand must have, eating ortolans
eight days before dying, his last illegal act. Fifteen minutes
of savoring a supple, burning ball of fat until you exhaust
its roast juices. When you finally swallow, you will regret
the end of a sensual experience. At least once in your life,
you must pay the price for this princely folly


Source: Poetry (December 2014)
[via CarPeo email]
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In The Name Of Antiquity...

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If, that is, antiquity can be defined as everything young people are stupid enough to forget.

I photographed this boat-sized  1972 Chevrolet Imperial 

which is 23 years younger than me.

Harry Truman was President the day I was born 

but this car probably voted for Nixon, instead of McGovern.

Nix on the peacenik and Yes on the impeachable wonder boy of Watergate.

A
pair
of
legs
saw
me
run
home
to frame the photograph.

Oh Mark, you great marksman, my booty will shake for you 
if you give me that picture. The car belonged to my husband 
who died in World War I.

That would make your husband one hundred years old while  
you are young enough to be born when Ronald Reagan was President. 

Who was Ronald Reagan? Was he related to Ronald McDonald. 

Yes, they were bowling partners until the ball cracked with a blow to the Altzheimer. 

I want to do something for you...            

There is nothing to be done by you for me! 

But I will shake my booty because...your fiance loves dogs  
more than she could ever love people, including you. 

Barbra, I am old enough to be your Grandfather. 

You are old enough to love my booty but just shoot my puppy  
and she will never know the difference. 

I
shot
the
pup
who
was
as
cute
as a cake with lots of chocolate frosting

Oh Barbra, Oh Barbra...I am young enough to know...what it is I need to feel. 

Sorry, Mark, I've got to go. I haven't had a toke of reefer for damn near fifteen minutes 
and you are older than both my grandfathers put together. 

Just tell me one thing before you go...What is your puppy's name. 

BULL. Just plain "Bull" but you can call him Pit. 

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The Most Stunning Thing About Art Museums

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Is Discovering An Artist You Never Heard Of

Natalia Goncharova
1913
Cats

But when you grew up in a world where
you were breast-fed by  MAD Magazine,
you are reminded of this:
To  Spy vs. Spy
You want to
throw a kiss

Antonio Prohias
(1921-1998)

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Footnote
This page is dedicated to my fellow Peetnik who has taught me more
and understands me better than anyone west of the Mississippi. 
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The Wonders of SHE

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Her finger points upward

The sky balances
on a fingernail

She points her nose at me
And I sneeze

She says
God Bless You

I say  
Doesn't He have more important things to do?

She says
Only when someone else sneezes.

I say
What about when you do it?

She says
I never sneeze.

She winks her eye
And I cry

Bless us, Oh Lord
For She is the Gift
I am about to Receive

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Two BRILLO Autographs Up For Auction: $1,000,000 or $.50

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Artnet Auctions  Features  Scaled Works by Celebrated Artists

Andy Warhol ( 1928-1987)  
Brillo Box, 1975 
 [signed]
Bidding starts at $1,000,000

Paul Oliverio (1949-2049)
OllirB, 2015
[signed]
Bidding starts at $.50

The next page to feature Andy Warhol is  here. 

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©©© Didja Hear ©©©

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 Didja hear the one
 about the one he wouldn't tell?

 The joke about
"before there was money,
  nobody had anything to sell."

  Didja know that before there was college
  nobody and nobody else had any thirst for knowledge.

  Before there was a Tuesday,
  Monday had nowhere to go and had no sleep.

  Before there was woman,
  man had no one to bother nor to bother him.

  Before there were poor people,
  the rich people said "What is the point of wealth?"

  Before there was Oh shit! I still haven't watched  WEB THERAPY,
  he could have blogged 'til the cows came home
  unless they slaughtered en route.

  Callate! 
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Somewhere in Virginia...

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This is from  Mr. Click

In her sister's house, there are miniature horses
in bronze, in silver, in absentia 
because Linda died
in 1975.

Her brother got the occasional $20 bill
smuggled into an article of clothing
because our father would explain
to the drinking crowd at
Rockefeller Center that
his little boy had
a paper route.

The little boy
was saving money
so that someday he would
be able to attend an Ivy League college.


In fact, in 1957...
My father was mythologizing while mixologizing
and I was much more interested in going to the Polo Grounds
to see Willie Mays play baseball  than going to Hardvard
to learn that is not how you spell it!

However, the tips provided by the likes of Howard Cosell,

Johnny Carson, Eleanor Roosevelt and all the other

patrons who frequented the English Grill

were immediately converted to horseplay:

He would go to the most select gift shops
beneath the world famous skating rink
and buy miniature horses and
horse trinkets because his
dutiful and beautiful
daughter loved
such things.

She had so much fun
on that rink: pirouetting,
speed circling, and one-footing.
But she always came to my rescue when I would fall on my ass.

 The next Linda page is  here.

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It's My Life

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It's a hard world to 
get a break in

All the good things 
have been taken

But girls there 
are ways 

To make certain 
things pay

-The Animals



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The HBO/Showtime Dichotomy

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HBO and Showtime
As far as the cultural comparison, think of the former as Fay Wray's King Kong
and the latter as the Muppet's Cookie Monster.

Lisa Kudrow's THE COMEBACK was deservedly had this year's
most-talked-about cable TV series.

I watched every episode twice but will enjoy each one
more with the next viewing.

Fact:
THE COMEBACK  was broadcast on HBO.

Trivia:
Can you name a show that starred Meryl Streep, Lily Tomlin, Billy Crystal,
Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Molly Shannon, Craig Ferguson, Conan O'Brien,
Meg Ryan, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Rosie O'Donnell, Courtney Cox,
David Schwimmer, & Matt LeBlanc but not Jennifer Aniston?

Answer:
That would be  WEB THERAPY  created by and starring Lisa Kudrow.


Beginning as a broadband series that was picked up by cable,
it is about the most self-centered, condescending, inept,
and hypersensitive "therapist" who despises dreams
and will only see her clients for three minute
sessions via  Skype.

Any TV critic who does not praise WEB THERAPY
to the heavens is either desperately in need
of psychiatic treatment or is
palm-greased by HBO.

 

Oh, by the way: 
WEB THERAPY is presently broadcast on Showtime.

However, I must end this page because last Sunday
was a brand new episode that I MUST watch
because doing so is very therapeutic
for me and Mrs. CarPeo is only
minimally jealous of my love
for  Lisa Kudrow.
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Sometimes

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sometimes I wonder
Sometimes I blunder

Sometimes I think
Sometimes I sink

Sometimes I drive
Sometimes I dive

Over under
Sometimes down

Under over
Sometimes clown

Sometimes I YES
Sometimes I NO

Sometimes I WHAT?
Sometimes I KNOW

God is spellt
H-B-O-G-O

And that is no crime
But He watches Showtime

When on the air
is  The Affair

The world is His stage–
Those Shakespearian factors–

He filled it with
A million and one great actors

But sometimes I do wonder
All day & all night

Why He filled it with so few
who can truly write.


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Footnotes
SOMETIMES is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.


Some said to me that THE AFFAIR won two Golden Globe Awards.
I said to someone "Only two?"

HBO's  True Detective  was beyond extraordinary with its  bayou  mystique
McConaughey philosophia, and textured deeply by the music.

SHOWTIMES's  The Affair  equally has a detective questioning the main characters
and the mystique of  Montauk.  In lieu of the brilliant ranting of  Matthew McConaughey,
there is the immeasurable sadness in the face of Ruth Wilson.

The music of The Affair does NOT add deep texture to the show but sits quietly
in the back of the bus yet knowing always exactly where the bus is bound.

Another thing that bonds both cable TV series is the titles of both:
so utterly trite but the triteness is in direct proportion
to the talents involved in each show.
     
There are actually "so few"  PLUS ONE writers in this world
but He will not allow THE ONE to escape from Blogsville
until Mrs. CarPeo is re-united with her ego
or Mr. Hollywood or Ms. Literati
contacts this website.
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