Almost Cut My Hair.

Cut My Hair


“Why should I care, If I have to cut my hair?
I’ve got to move with the fashions, Or be outcast.
I know I should fight, But my old man he’s really alright,
And I’m still living at home, Even though it won’t last.”

*Please open this link, it will open in another window, allowing you to come back to this window to read the post, all the while listening to this song that defined a British generation;


Okay, The Who’s “Quadrophenia” is, beyond any manner of doubt, the first and the best rock opera ever written. Following the life of an underachiever, a teenager lost in love, lust, drugs and living in an oppressive society. Sex, drugs, rock and roll. They not only define a generation, they become the focus of suicidal maniacs.

The movie “Quadrophenia” not only tells a story, it is also one of the best classic rock and roll albums of all time. Consider songs like “5:15”, “Love Reign O’er Me”, “Zoot Suit” and “Bellboy”. This is not solely my opinion, it is fact compiled from record sales, advertiser interest and Internet presence.

Unless joining the army, or some other zoot suit clamoring, boot-stomping, neo-nazi organization, there is no reason that men have to have brush-cut hair. Prior to 1900, long hair on men was not only fashionable, but also a sign of prosperity, health and vigor.

It's me or your mother's basement, son!

The youth of today are living with their parents for longer and longer periods of time before moving out on their own. Even after marriage a lot of couples opt to live with one of the happy couple’s parents; usually the ones that are more well off, have the nicer house, the nicer location. Makes sense, more room and all. But is this is a sign of morality at large? Many of these couples are saving for their first home, yet take extravagant trips and enjoy their youth at the expense of their parents.

Parents are responsible for their children until they come of a certain age, get married, or have a good enough job to cover their living expenses. With the way the economy is tanking worldwide, people planning on having families should make sure that they own large parcels of land, on which to build small villages to hold all of their breed. Think Quonset huts and assault rifles!

Almost, cut my hair. It happened just the other day.

In high school, I had hair that went to my belt. And, yes, I wore faded Levi’s and rock concert t-shirts under a faded Levi’s red-tab denim shirt. I saw the Grateful Dead, David Bowie, Pink Floyd, The Who, Neil Young, and, yes, even Bo Diddley. If anyone were to show up at a rock concert, a high school or any other public place wearing jeans whose belt line was around their knees, they would have had the beating of their lives rained down upon them.

Almost, cut my hair. It happened just the other day!

Much like Crosby, Stills Nash and Young, I almost cut my hair once. I mean at the back – I’ve had short bangs since college, only because it’s expected in the work force. Ponytails can be hidden under shirts with collars, much like tattoos, and I got away with it my entire professional life. I was teaching USAF pilots how to use flight simulators in a few USAF air bases throughout the deep south-eastern States, and not one of these good old boys were offended when they saw my hair outside of the offices. I was given full use of a cottage, speed boat and fishing boat, RVs and Sea Dos while teaching these top guns, and became great friends, enjoying the extremes of excitement.

I was taken up in an F-16 Eagle, and we flew over the length of the Grand Canyon in less than a half of a minute.  I spent more time playing than working, and there was never any questions or fallback for my having long hair. Even when talking to the base’s CO, the training officers and pilots.

Sometimes you have to fight for what you believe in. Sometimes, you are fighting for no reason at all, because the ones you’re fighting against have no qualms with you or your ways; it’s all in your mind, and you’re the one you should be fighting with.

If someone tells you to get a haircut, offer them a free consult at a local psychiatric office, or an insane asylum. Everyone is welcome to their own opinion, it’s whether or not they should be saying them out loud is the problem.

We Won’t Be Fooled Again.

We Won’t Be Fooled Again.

“We’ll be fighting in the streets. With out children at our feet. And the morals that they worship will be gone.”

Morality in the 1960’s was basically making sure you had clean underwear in the glove box. Well, you sure weren’t wearing them. Just got in the way. Japan bombs Pearl Harbor. We went to war. Russia just wanted to control the world, eying Cuba for missile bases, just to get closer to us (that’s us as in US). Nobody was home. Cuban cigars can’t be bought in the USA (bay of pigs). A bunch of rather frugal peoples got slaughtered. We went to war. There was this little genius (no, really!) who had syphilis (happens) and a silly little mustache. Turns out he had a little problem with the people some blame for killing the son of their God. He put them into fenced-in camps (no, not summer camps) and experimented on them in nearly ritualistic ways. Turns out he was bat-shit crazy, but oh, how the people loved him.

We went to war.Iraq didn’t get the message that sectarian violence wouldn’t be tolerated. Neither would stockpiling nuclear and dirty weapons of mass destruction. Neither did Afghanistan. We just may be going to war. North Korea seems to have not been listening. Neither is Iran. The two combined would represent the largest army ever put together.

We won’t be fooled again. Promise.

If Iran gets out of hand, there will be no other recourse but to get engaged in what could turn out to be WWlll. North Korea will most likely join forces with Iran. China could even follow suit, as they are allies with both despot-ruled countries. We will not be amused.

War. Good God, huh, what are we fighting for?

When a country’s morals are pushed on them, the citizens eventually see the crazy in their leaders. Citizens protest. Armies retaliate. Citizens for militias and organize war against ruling parties. We go to war to protect innocent lives.

Maybe we should just mind our own business? Why are we the ones anointed the savior of the oppressed? We will go to war.

Now, each war we enter costs us thousands of lives, military and civilian. They cost Billions, if not Trillions of dollars each. We go into a recessions and wonder why?

Maybe our parents knew something after all. We shouldn’t be pushing our morals on people who have been living the way they are for decades, if not centuries.

Baba O’Reilly

Baba O’Riley

“Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.”

Online websites that pay writers to submit content were doing very good business, and writers were making money just a couple of years ago. Writing sites like Helium, Yahoo! (used to be Creative Content) and Bukisa would pay writers a premium, upfront payment for every piece of work that they submitted. The good thing was that they were popular and they were making money. The problem was that they were popular and they were making money. See how that works? Something becomes popular, it sells (think Google, MySpace, Facebook). Something sells, someone needs to make a whack o’ cash, the second cousin of the whack a’ mole.

Websites get sold. Shareholders ask, “Why?” Owners decry that their better writers are all leaving.

Writers make money writing articles online for websites. Others learn about this due to exhaustive recruiting advertisement campaigns. Others join said sites and start writing words. Writers earn less. Writers get mad. Writers leave, go write blogs. Forget about things like structure. Concentrate on getting point out. Author digresses. Writers find blogs, start to earn money again. Hobbyists join websites. hobbyists make money writing articles online for websites. Hobbyists write crap. Shareholders get mad. Writers start to make more money blogging. Hobbyists keep submitting crap. Site fills up like overflowing septic system. Publishers flock off. Owners lose their shirts. Can’t understand why.

Is anyone in charge listening?

All you need to do is to have two separate sections; one for established writers, say no less than 1,000 articles and 100 sales – a second section for all others. Writers in the first group get $10 per article submission plus an increase in revenue share percentages, and the writers in the second group get normal revenue share income. Problem fixed. See? Easy, wasn’t it?

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

“The exodus is here, the happy ones are near.”

Now, the new bosses have a lot of articles being submitted for the much cheaper, more financially prudent (read; frugal) cost of nothing at all. And, they’re getting exactly what they pay for.

If you’re going to ask a group of professional writers to submit articles for $1 and a small share of the revenue that their articles generate, then expect to see an exodus of said writers to somewhere that they may feel more wanted, respected and valued. To evaluate a writer’s skill based solely on what other writers, contributors and visitors alike prefer is to invite disaster into a writer’s market. Let the publishers decide which writers are worth paying and which should be sent to Siberia to pick winter berries. The writers who sell articles are more than likely the ones that you would want to stick around, just in case you weren’t aware. And, by the looks of things, you may have slept through that class in economics 101.

Now, all these article mills need to do in order to make their sites both profitable and sustainable is to get the good writers back. They need to find a better way to rank articles than to have writers and visitors rate their quality against other articles. They need to pay the good writers a better stipend in order to fill their sites with recent, quality materials. You can only sell so many Sega Genesis Cheat Tips articles.

The only real answer for a site like Helium, and other peer-rated article rating sites is to change the way articles are rated. They need to get rid of their current star systems and decide with a more keen eye which writers are more beneficial to the site. An easy example would be to keep the writers who sell the most articles to publishers and get rid of the story tellers. There’s just no room for story tellers on a fact-based, knowledge article provision site. The publishers will thank you, the good writers will flock back and the universe will be properly aligned again.

Meet the new boss indeed.

Love Reign O’er Me

Love Reign O’er Me.

“Only love, can make it rain. The way the beach, is kissed by the sea. Only love, can make it rain. Like the sweat of lovers, lying in the field. Love, reign o’er me.”


For those of you who would love to hear The Who sing the opening song to Quadrophenia,


Some say it’s a writer’s job to suffer. To taste the ultimate highs and the ultimate lows before putting pen to paper. Or finger to laptop (no, not lap top, laptop! The song’s about love, not lust – that’s “Teenage Daydream”). A writer needs to taste the hollows of emptiness, the sorrows of loss and the temptations of temptation. Bullshit!

No, writers are of two stripes; those who are born with the talent to strings words in a row, so that others hang upon each and every forthcoming…

(and now, a message from our sponsor)

… word, and those who learn their craft through hard work and aspiration. (Yes, yes, perspiration too, don’t get pushy! I’m the one writing here…).

Writers write for song, movie, TV, magazines, newspapers. And, yes, blogs and even the odd article mill here and there. Some say that only the successful write what they want, because only the successful can afford to do so.

I write.

I write because I enjoy it. I write because I can. Well, some of you may argue that point. And, yes, I would fight for your right to be wrong.

Taking a look at life through some Who songs, we see how life differs from now and when hippies ran naked through the streets, singing “Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya”. Now, they only run naked through the streets for a gay and lesbian pride festival parade.

Sometimes I wonder if wars are nothing more than a means to cull the number of people on the planet. Rampant overpopulation, which recently surpassed 7 Billion people. Nowhere near enough food and water for everyone. Maybe all of the natural disasters, coupled with all of the violence in the world these days, will spell the end of mankind as we know it. Your next address could well be “Cave #3, Nook #17, cot #328, the middle of Death Valley”.

Love, Reign O’er Me. It’s better than bombs.

Only love can make it rain? When we’re talking about North Korea and Iran possibly joining forces to monopolize the oil, the oil transfer routes and the poppy trade, under the threat of both Israeli annihilation and first strike nuclear warfare (NK has the bomb that Iran wants so badly; it’s really just a matter of time as NK needs a major economical lift, and they have what Iran has. When their two armies are combined it would become the largest in the world).

Love. It’s better than the alternatives.

This Blog is About…

What’s all this about?


This blog is about classic rock n’ roll song lyrics that are relevant today in defining and dissecting societal issues that are currently affecting us. The songs, and, of course, the bands must have been on the radio in the 50’s, 60’s and/or 70’s.

A Michael Jackson song could be used, but it would probably have to be “Ben”… in the same vein, hundreds of David Bowie songs would be available for dissection and societal profiling, but only the songs he recorded prior to 1980. The groups are not grouped, they just have to have been popular. Depeche Mode, Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley, Genesis, Yes, Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Rush, The Who, The Grateful Dead, Jan and Dean, The Beach Boys; as long as they were on the radio between 1950 and 1979 they belong here.

My goal is to select lyrics of songs that can be used to define societal woes today. If you have any suggestions for lyrics and how they reflect on serious societal issues affecting mankind today, let me know and I will do my best to include them.

Thanks, and

Welcome to my nightmare. Woo-ooh-ooh-oh.