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Walt Disney

We allow no geniuses around our Studio.

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Come let's wholeheartedly follow

There’s a sweet little child in all of us; come lets
wholeheartedly allow it to majestically blossom till
the pinnacle of resplendently ingratiating prosperity,

There’s a mesmerizing little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to evolve into an
unfathomably compassionate gorge of friendship; as
tangy as the rhapsodically ebullient oceans,

There’s an enchanting little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to marvelously burgeon
till times beyond iridescent eternity; and enthuse
even the most obfuscatedly alien of our times,

There’s a euphoric little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to spawn like an
insatiably fragrant flower of gorgeous companionship;
as the Sun blazed vibrantly from behind the
mellifluous hills,

There’s a poignant little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to enthrall even the most
obsoletely dithering nerves in our beleaguered bodies;
to the most stupendously unprecedented limits,

There’s a jubilant little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to ingratiatingly gallop
to kiss the epitome of dazzling timelessness; and for
centuries immemorial,

There’s a victorious little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to Omnipotently
transcend; over the pernicious precipices of our
disastrously dwindling derogatorily manipulative
souls,

There’s an innocuous little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to profoundly rejuvenate
our bizarrely estranged senses; with the vivaciously
sacrosanct tonic of life,

There’s an embellished little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to majestically drape our
insipidly feckless deliriousness; with cisterns of
unsurpassable sensuousness,

There’s a fantastic little child in all of us; come
lets wholeheartedly allow it to irrefutably overshadow
our disparagingly deteriorating gloom; with fountains
of timeless happiness,

[...] Read more

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Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist

Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist,
discovers a tiny brown lesion
on the end of his nose.
he uses his wife’s
concave make up mirror
to examine it more closely
and confirms his worse suspicions:
It’s malignant.
Coolly, he makes
one appointment with his dermatologist
and another in Samara.
After brushing his teeth
he takes another look
at the tiny brown Angel of Death.
It flakes off
-a brown booger.
Buzz cancels his appointments
and craves a celebratory drink terribly,
but summons his fantastic will power
and resists the urge.

II
Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist,
lands on the Dark Side of the Moon
and meets the indigenous Moonpupiks,
who are heavily armed yet friendly.
He has sex with many tribeswomen,
but fends off the attentions of the polymorphous perverse
tribesmen, and tells all that they must
dropp their religion and adopt the
State Religion of NASA, Tanglicanism,
which uses Tang for communion wine.
The natives say they don’t mind a bit
as they are lapsed Moonitarians
and were looking for something to fill the gap.
Disappointed they don’t offer more conversion resistance,
Buzz orders the leaders beheaded
and claims the Dark Side of the Moon
in the name of Rio Tinto,
an Australian mining corporation
whose logo he wears on his helmet
and ship.
Then he wakes up.

II(a)
Buzz Aldrin, Space Imperialist
takes another nap and,
against the advice of his fellow astronauts,
brings 4 or 5 Moonpupiks (MOON pu pix)
back to the Court of Richard Nixon, Imperial Vizard,

[...] Read more

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Smitten

Who must I be for you to love me
Endlessly, hopelessly, like I, do you
And where do I touch, when I need to so much
In a rush, wish you trust like I do
And I have tried to please her (oh, yeah)
Much to my demise
Please say somethin' to ease my mind
She gets quiet every time
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less
Yeah, yeah
Tricked by her smile, she needs me for a while
And I yearn, in return I am burned
Confess, I'm a mess, and there ain't too much left
But if she asked for it I'd give it in a minute (ah, yeah)
And I have tried to please her (yes, I am)
Much to my demise
Please, please say somethin' to ease my achin' mind
She gets quiet every time
Every time
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less (now listen)
I'm the one with quiet anger in oblivion
Tear tracks smear the smile on my face
And I am deep in love
I'm in love, I'm in love, y'all
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less (care less, care less, care less)
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less
Care less (oh, yes)
Hello, allow me to introduce myself
I am smitten
And she couldn't care less

[...] Read more

song performed by Rod StewartReport problemRelated quotes
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The Lamb and the Wolf (Ballad)

I saw a lamb to wolf turn prey!
I saw it kill’d in gruesome way;
The lamb was rather small, I say;
I saw it frolicking that day;
It bleated while busy at play;
That day, its life, it had to pay;
And soon, I heard a plaintive cry;
The grass was smeared by lamb’s blood dry!
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”

The wolf was dressed in fine lamb-skin;
It killed by habit, kith and kin;
Like lamb, it spoke and went so near;
It acted friendly, allayed fear;
It took the lamb afar to play;
The lamb was foolish on that day;
It was so meek and frail, not bold;
It wished to see the far-off world.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”

The wolf then took the lamb away,
To steep a cliff with grass to play;
In moment’s time, it pushed it down;
The foul-play was almost half-done;
The lamb remained so very dazed;
That it was live, kept me amazed;
Before it could then recover,
The wolf made plans to devour.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”

The wolf noticed the lamb’s sad plight
And asked if it was quite alright;
It said, “I’ll take you to mother.”
The lamb believed the lie, brother!
It took it round and round and round;
There was no sign of flock on ground;
The lamb had gone really far;
Against the wolf, it could not war.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”


The lamb couldn’t walk any farther;
To pray to God, it didn’t bother;
It was so tired, hungry too;
It did not know what next to do;
The wolf then caught the lamb by throat;

[...] Read more

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I Feel So Sub-prime

My next-door neighbor is gone
Two small U-haul trucks
Were parked in their driveway
When I got home Friday

The guy that owned the house
Before them
Was an ass
First thing he did

When he and his wife
Moved in was to convert
Their two car garage to
A kick-boxing studio

Our garage faces the street
Their's faces our property
One day I got home from work
Walking up to my door

I glanced to my left
It seemed as if someone else
Was walking too
At just about my pace

Then like Lucy and Harpo
If you remember that TV scene
From 'I Love...' we both
Stopped and stared at each other

The entire back wall of his garage
Was a glass mirror
Like a ballet studio Glass!
Without the class

His studio had been downtown
In a commercial building
I had read the magnetic signs
On the sides of his SUV

Now his studio faced my front yard
Heavy bag hanging there
All the space was needed
Washer and dryer? ? ?

The had been hooked up
Outside for Christ's sake
Under a tacked-on lean-to
To keep the rain out

[...] Read more

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Michael J. Gelb

Crazy people who are productive are geniuses. Crazy people who are rich are eccentric. Crazy people who are neither productive nor rich are just plain crazy. Geniuses and crazy people are both out in the middle of a deep ocean geniuses swim, crazy people drown. Most of us are sitting safely on the shore. Take a chance and get your feet wet.

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Studio Musician

I am a studio musician
We've never met
But you know me well
I am the English horn
Who plays the poignant counter-nine
Upon the song you heard
While making love in some hotel
I am a part of you
I've never tried for fame
You'll never know my name
I am the strings that enter softly
Or three guitars that glitter gold
I am the thousand trumpet lines
That were an afterthought
Intended eyes,
the way to get a dying record sold
I never ride the road
I never play around
I played what they set down
I'm a working musician
living from week to week
I'm the voice through each empty men
tried to speak
A studio musician
Blowin' the chance I see
And when the woodwind coushin rises
I start to dream
With the low brass bed
But I awake the horns
The drummer calls to me
We're up the letter D
I'm a man of the moment
pop is my stock n' trade
Singles, jingles and demos
conventently made
A studio musician
Whose music will die unplayed
A studio musician
Whose music could have died unplayed

song performed by Barry ManilowReport problemRelated quotes
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Intermission Ii

No you not goin
I am goin to the club, I am goin,
No, Im not havin it
I am goin to the club wit you and the boys
You not hangin out wit the boys
No...
I aint never been Im goin...(ring)
Ima go and get the phone but
I am goin to the club
Hello
T-boz
Yeah
Uh, get down to the studio quick you hafta
Hurry you gotta do your part
Yeah, yeah alright Ill be there
Alright...
Thanks, bye
Look, I gotta go to the studio so whats it gonna be
You gon take me or what?
Dang, you gotta go to the studio...
I was gonna take you to the club but ah....
Now why you lyin?
Look, let me tell you somethin, just forget that
*bang, whop, punch...*
Ahhhhhhhh.......
Dont nobody have to take that from nobody
And wit dat I dont know who he think I am...
Shoot, Im about to go, Im gonna go to the studio alright
Ima take the car, he aint gonna go nowhere
Hey, what you doin?
What you think Im doin?
Leaving, leaving, leaving....
Hey, come here...
Tionne.....................

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The Widening Spell of the Leaves

--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968
--for my brother

Once, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill.
I was driving south toward a large city famous
For so little it had a replica, in concrete,
In two-thirds scale, of the Arc de Triomphe stuck
In the midst of traffic, & obstructing it.
But the city was hours away, beyond the hills
Shaped like the bodies of sleeping women.
Often I had to slow down for herds of goats
Or cattle milling on those narrow roads, & for
The narrower, lost, stone streets of villages
I passed through. The pains in my stomach had grown
Gradually sharper & more frequent as the day
Wore on, & now a fever had set up house.
In the villages there wasn't much point in asking
Anyone for help. In those places, where tanks
Were bivouacked in shade on their way back
From some routine exercise along
The Danube, even food was scarce that year.
And the languages shifted for no clear reason
From two hard quarries of Slavic into German,
Then to a shred of Latin spliced with oohs
And hisses. Even when I tried the simplest phrases,
The peasants passing over those uneven stones
Paused just long enough to look up once,
Uncomprehendingly. Then they turned
Quickly away, vanishing quietly into that
Moment, like bark chips whirled downriver.
It was autumn. Beyond each village the wind
Threw gusts of yellowing leaves across the road.
The goats I passed were thin, gray; their hind legs,
Caked with dried shit, seesawed along--
Not even mild contempt in their expressionless,
Pale eyes, & their brays like the scraping of metal.
Except for one village that had a kind
Of museum where I stopped to rest, & saw
A dead Scythian soldier under glass,
Turning to dust while holding a small sword
At attention forever, there wasn't much to look at.
Wind, leaves, goats, the higher passes
Locked in stone, the peasants with their fate
Embroidering a stillness into them,
And a spell over all things in that landscape,
Like . . .
That was the trouble; it couldn't be
Compared to anything else, not even the sleep
Of some asylum at a wood's edge with the sound
Of a pond's spillway beside it. But as each cramp

[...] Read more

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Honey, Just Allow Me One More Chance

Honey, just allow me one more chance
To get along with you.
Honey, just allow me one more chance,
Ahll do anything with you.
Well, Im a-walkin down the road
With my head in my hand,
Im lookin for a woman
Needs a worried man.
Just-a one kind favor I ask you,
low me just-a one more chance.
Honey, just allow me one more chance
To ride your aeroplane.
Honey, just allow me one more chance
To ride your passenger train.
Well, Ive been lookin all over
For a gal like you,
I cant find nobody
So youll have to do.
Just-a one kind favor I ask you,
low me just-a one more chance.
Honey, just allow me one more chance
To get along with you.
Honey, just allow me one more chance,
Ahll do anything with you.
Well, lookin for a woman
That aint got no man,
Is just lookin for a needle
That is lost in the sand.
Just-a one kind favor I ask you,
low me just-a one more chance.

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Push Doubt Right Out

There is no need for you to prove,
You can duet to the blues.
Or tolerate with patience,
Not to do what you choose!

Push doubt right out!
Don't allow a doubt to sit or settle down.
Don't allow a single doubt to hang around.
Kick that doubt about until it is gone.
Don't do a sad song sung!

Push doubt right out!
Don't allow a doubt to sit or settle down.
Don't allow a single doubt to hang around.
Kick that doubt about until it is gone.
Don't do a sad song sung that is done!

Free your kingdom of the pricking of thorns condoned.
No need to sit through pricking of those thorns you don't own.
Choose to pick each prick that sticks to rid from your home.

There is no need for you to prove,
You can duet to the blues.
Or tolerate with patience,
Not to do what you choose!

Push doubt right out!
Don't allow a doubt to sit or settle down.
Don't allow a single doubt to hang around.
Kick that doubt about until it is gone.
Don't do a sad song sung!
Kick that doubt about until it's gone.

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Carl Sagan

But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.

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Carl Sagan

But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.

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Carl Sagan

But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright Brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.

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Patrick White

The Radiant Nadirs Of The Underestimated

The radiant nadirs of the underestimated,
all these small town upstairs windows at night
where people bloom like flowers,
trout lily, hepatica, wood violet
under the duff of life,
old books and teetering obelisks of magazines,
nobody’s ever going to see
in this hemisphere
unless their clockwise life
has gone down the wrong way
and the world’s been turned
up side down on its head
so you’re compelled to walk on stars
to keep from falling off.
There’s a novelist across the street.
Window to window our apartments stare
blankly at each other
through the dirty winter grime
and the occasional moon
and ambivalent rose of the dawn
after a long sleepless night
when even the dead are appalled by the solitude.
Seven novels and he’s never published a word.
Seven novels. A mouth and a heart
like the Gulf of St. Lawrence
but no Cabot, Cartier, Champlain.
And there’s a poet I know
a mere four blocks away, beautiful,
a wild crazy witch of a woman
among muses that couldn’t hold a black candle
up to the serpent fire she can inspire
in any two lines of a poem
that could take a common garter snake
and give it the wings of a dragon,
a genius who’s laid herself aside to raise a baby
and write in between the cracks of concrete
her crackhead ex keeps trying to pave her with
like a parking lot on a coke binge.
She’s the spearhead of a blade of grass
trying to wound its way through stone
into the light
but it’s not likely
she’s ever going to make it
given the avalanche of circumstance
that waits for her like a mountain on the other side
to come up for air in the middle of a seal hunt.
Unknown geniuses, the gifted secrets
of heretical martyrs and orthodox suicides
like the Sylvia Plaths, the Emily Dickinsons,
the Kafkas, the Rimbauds, the Van Goghs

[...] Read more

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When you do a movie in the studio system, there's a committee. A committee of six or seven people you answer to. There's two or three producers, a studio executive and one or two people above that studio executive.

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So for my studio purposes, I know that I'm in my studio with technicians who've done amazing things to my board and to my power amps and I know what I can deliver out of my studio.

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In the empty studio

The diffused northern sunlight
of this studio at dawn
matches the silence and the stillness

like the speaking silence
of the retrochoir behind the altar
of a simple white Greek island church –

that has no ornament; simply walls
painted in a pale blue wash,
the space, the air itself, as radiant with heaven;

behind the iconostasis – gold and candle and eternal gaze -
where praise is prepared; thought surrendered;
humility the robe; the sacred word awaits
the moment when it’s spoken;

so this studio; and at its centre, calling,
stands an easel with a white canvas on it;
what waits in this empty studio
that’s so full of emptiness that calls?

what challenges? This canvas
waits, as being ever does; full, content,
needing nothing but itself…

the silence will accept our spoken word,
then return to stillness;
the canvas will not be so forgiving;

‘make a mark on me that will not diminish
my completeness…; so let our being
meet, before a mark is made…’

this holy place: only godself may mark
this canvas and yet not detract; from space,
draw space; or may with colour stain transparent
this white white radiance of eternity:

and in the place whence all arises,
Nothing and Everything smile together
in their secret play.

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Tire Track & Broken Hearts

(andrew lloyd webber/ jim steinman)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Recorded in 1998 as part of the songs from whistle down the wind project. the lyrics are from careful listening.
Another aimless day, another useless night
I want peroxide hair, I want some neon light
I got a new life waiting, I cant wait to begin it
The thing that gets me down, being young in this town
Is theres no future in it
I want a fine perfume, how bout a blue corvette?
If theres a slower death than living here and now
They havent found it yet
I need a man who knows what Im really worth
And I dont give a damn about life after death
But I gotta get some proof that theres a life after birth
Tire tracks and broken hearts, thats all were leaving behind
It doesnt matter what we lose, it only matters what were going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, lets get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
I want a push-up bra, I want some satin sheets
Give me some real rich food, I want some succulent sweets
I want you by my side, youll be all my own
I dont know what I want half the time, but I know know
That I dont want to spend another minute alone
Tire tracks and broken hearts, thats all were leaving behind
It doesnt matter what we lose, it only matters what were going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, lets get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
(do do, da do do, da do do, da down down down)
Those good girls never know what theyre missing
But us bad girls almost always do
And what were missing most are the real good times
I want them bad and I want them now
I was born going faster than the limits allow
I want it bad and I want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
Faster than the limits allow
Right here, right now!
Tire tracks and broken hearts, thats all were leaving behind
It doesnt matter what we lose, it only matters what were going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, lets get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
I wanna show you what I want you to do
Where and when and how
I want it bad and I want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
I wanna show you what I want you to do
Where and when and how
I want it bad and I want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
Tire tracks and broken hearts, thats all were leaving behind

[...] Read more

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Tire Tracks And Broken Hearts

(andrew lloyd webber/ jim steinman)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Recorded in 1998 as part of the 'songs from whistle down the wind' project. the lyrics are from careful listening.
Another aimless day, another useless night
I want peroxide hair, i want some neon light
I got a new life waiting, i can't wait to begin it
The thing that gets me down, being young in this town
Is there's no future in it
I want a fine perfume, how 'bout a blue corvette?
If there's a slower death than living here and now
They haven't found it yet
I need a man who knows what i'm really worth
And i don't give a damn about life after death
But i gotta get some proof that there's a life after birth
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
I want a push-up bra, i want some satin sheets
Give me some real rich food, i want some succulent sweets
I want you by my side, you'll be all my own
I don't know what i want half the time, but i know know
That i don't want to spend another minute alone
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
(do do, da do do, da do do, da down down down)
Those good girls never know what they're missing
But us bad girls almost always do
And what we're missing most are the real good times
I want them bad and i want them now
I was born going faster than the limits allow
I want it bad and i want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
Faster than the limits allow
Right here, right now!
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
I wanna show you what i want you to do
Where and when and how
I want it bad and i want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
I wanna show you what i want you to do
Where and when and how
I want it bad and i want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind

[...] Read more

song performed by Bonnie TylerReport problemRelated quotes
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