American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Identified as a trouble maker by the authorities since childhood, and resolved to live up to the description, Charles Carreon soon discovered that mischief is most effectively fomented through speech. Having mastered the art of flinging verbal pipe-bombs and molotov cocktails at an early age, he refined his skills by writing legal briefs and journalistic exposes, while developing a poetic style that meandered from the lyrical to the political. Journey with him into the dark caves of the human experience, illuminated by the torch of an outraged sense of injustice.

Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sat Oct 05, 2013 8:18 pm

PSYCHO SANTA, by Charles Carreon



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("Psycho Santa" Bootleg version here)

(Dedicated to Matthew Inman of the Oatmeal)

[Well, Merry Christmas, Boys and Girls. I hope you've all been good, because Santa is on his way, and the Air Force is reporting. This is Lt. Col. Merriweather from NORAD reporting that we have just sighted an airborne sleigh crossing the dew line. It appears to be drawn by reindeer, and piloted by a jolly looking fellow in a red and white suit ...

... STATIC! ...

No, what is that?

It's not Santa, it's, it's ... Oh, my God ... it's going to tear the Internet a new asshole!

BOMB!]

Well he used to be a pterodactyl up in the sky,
Tearin' people's heads off,
and eatin' their eyes,
But now he's done a change-up,
Got a new disguise --
All Points Bulletin: Look out for this guy!

He's a psycho-Santa with a big bag of tricks,
Ringin' a bell, and beggin' for clicks,
Psycho Santa got a itty bitty stick,
Psycho Santa, don't fall for his schtick.

Particularly dangerous to boys and girls
Who play with computers in the virtual world
He claims to be the hero of the human race,
A relief from their cubicles and bookin' their face.

He's a psycho-Santa with a big bag of tricks,
Ringin' a bell, and beggin' for clicks,
Psycho Santa got a itty bitty stick,
Psycho Santa, don't fall for his schtick.

His prehistoric origin's a mystery --
Did he escape from the lavatory?
Was he made by the Pentagon and NSA
A living drone that shoots mind rays,
Makin' zombies of his followers --
Internet slaves!

He's a psycho-Santa with a big bag of tricks,
Ringin' a bell, and beggin' for clicks,
Psycho Santa got a itty bitty stick,
Psycho Santa, don't fall for his schtick.

When cornered he will strike back with a vicious blow,
There is no depth to which he will not go.
Do not attempt to apprehend --
Type "King Kong," then hit Send.

He's a psycho-Santa with a big bag of tricks,
Ringin' a bell, and beggin' for clicks,
Psycho Santa got a itty bitty stick,
Psycho Santa, don't fall for his schtick.

He can revert to his original form at will.
X-Men got nothin' he can't kill.
Only a simian of similar size
Can pluck the Pterodactyl out of the skies.

He's a psycho-Santa with a big bag of tricks,
Ringin' a bell, and beggin' for clicks,
Psycho Santa got a itty bitty stick,
Psycho Santa, don't fall for his schtick.
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sat Oct 05, 2013 8:26 pm

SUICIDE SANTA, by Charles Carreon



Image

It was the Night before Christmas
And all down the road,
The truckers were pulling
Their Chinese loads

Haulin' that crap
To Wal-Mart and such
So we can bury our kids
Under a mountain of junk

Only assholes hate Christmas
Least that's what they said
And when he heard it a lightbulb
burned out in his head

He flipped into overdrive
And picked up his suit
He was a jolly old fella
With bombs in his boots

He was a Suicide Santa
With tears in his eyes
For his message to the world
He was happy to die
Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo
Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo

Well he made a long list
Of bad boys and girls
We'd be better off losing
From this great big world

Millionaires, Billionaires,
Trillionaires, friends
Bankers and lawyers
The ones who know best

He tucked that list
in his suicide vest,
Headed out on the freeway
To the Vegas strip

He was dressed real nicely
for his final act
Wasn't gonna stick around
for a heart attack

He was a Suicide Santa
With tears in his eyes
For his message to the world
He was happy to die
Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo
Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo

He called himself in to 911
Said he was headed for Caesar's to have some fun
Loaded for bear, let the SWAT team come,
They're welcome to die, every goddamn one
Security parted like the Damn Red Sea
When Moses stretched out
his rod, you see,
He was a smilin' mass of notoriety

He was a Suicide Santa
With tears in his eyes
For his message to the world
He was happy to die
Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo
Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo

He cleared out the dealers
From the gambling hall
To the poor broke players
He gave it all

He told the band to play White Christmas,
and to the showgirls said sit down,
saying, "I'm not ready yet
to blow this town"

That seemed to relax
the tension a notch
He lit himself a stogie
And asked for some scotch
With his boots on the table,
He savored a sip
And said to the cameras
"What a helluva trip,"
Here I threaten to kill 'em
Now I'm in the chips"

Cause I'm a Suicide Santa
But I'm not insane
It's just lately
This terrible pain
We'll all have to suffer
for the mess they made
So I'm a Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo
A Suicide Santa
Doo, doo, doo, doo

Then he pulled an alarm clock
From one of his boots
Hooked a wire up to it
and then said "Boo!"

The people fell back
And moved for the door
Except one old chick
A used-up whore

She said if you don't mind
I'll sit with you
As far as I could tell
This show's about through

He pulled out a chair
And poured her a shot
He said, "At this here table
We bet the whole damn pot."

'Cause I'm a Suicide Santa
And on Christmas Day
We'll light these candles
In a magic way
Convert the doubters
And believers, too
Show 'em the shimmy
Like we used to do

'Cause I'm a Suicide Santa,
And it's Christmas Day,
You can push my button
Any goddamn day
'Cause I'm a Suicide Santa
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Suicide Santa
Yeah yeah yeah

Well it was all over Google
On Christmas Day
How Suicide Santa
Made his getaway

From the rooftops of Vegas
Where he hitched a ride
In a stolen copter
That flew outta sight

Flying over the mountains
Last seen heading north
As fast as Mel Gibson
In a speeding Porsche

He leaned out the window
With his Newlywed wife
Smilin' like Elvis
Under the lights
He said "Merry Christmas
And to all a good night
May good boys and girls
Learn how to not fight

'Cause I'm a Suicide Santa
And it's Christmas Day
I've got my toys,
So now it's time to play
I'm Suicide Santa
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Suicide Santa
Ho, ho, ho

I'm a Suicide Santa
And it's Christmas Day
I've got my toys,
Now it's time to play-heh-heh yeah
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sat Oct 05, 2013 8:31 pm

THE OLD VE-TO, by Charles Carreon



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Well you say
You're the Congress
Whatever that means
We'll ask Gonzales
When he's done eatin' beans
You gave me a bill
With time limits in it
So I'll veto that shit
And send it back to the Senate
And don't you step on my Old Veto
You can do anything,
But don't forget about my Old Veto.

Well I done decided
You know that's it
The troops are gonna stay
Where I say
The chips are gonna fall
Wherever they may
I'll raise the stakes higher
'Cause that's how I play
But don't 'ya
Forget my Old Veto
You can enact what you want
I'll just give it the Old Veto.

Well they say the nation's
Turning blue again
I'll prove that false
With a stroke of my pen
There is no power
Like the one to say no
So loot, motherfuckers, now go go go
We got 'em with the Old Veto
They can't do a damn thing
When I give them the Old Veto.

Well, I've blown Iraq
But I won't admit it
I'm after Iran
And I just won't quit it
Just try and stop me
I'm on the run
The light is red
That means fun, fun, fun
So watch out, I'll use the Old Veto
I'll run you down in the street
With my Old Veto

Yeah, the Constitution
Is a mighty fine thing
At least for me,
For you it stinks
'Cause I'm the Chief
I'm at the top
I keep the buck movin'
So it never stops
And when I lose I use the Old Veto.
I just tell 'em where to stuff it
And hit 'em with the Old Veto.
Yeah, they'll never know what hit 'em
When I hit 'em with the Old Veto.
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sat Oct 05, 2013 8:32 pm

THEY'RE LOOKING SO PRETTY, by Charles Carreon



Image

They're looking so pretty, tonight
Coiffed and suited just right
All of their sound bites prepared
Schooled on the issues, a little bit scared

They will cross swords oh so light
Blades barely meeting and smiles drawn tight
Billions will ride on their answers
And voters will make their selections.

Still there are times when you just have to wonder
Is the whole thing an incredible blunder?
While we compare hairstyles,
The sky starts to thunder
Tornadoes appear on our doorsteps
I wonder, are we on the verge
of a thousand-year bummer?

No one will touch that, tonight
Which is why Gore is nowhere in sight
We'll have plenty of style,
A side of issues-lite,
A sneer from the right,

They're looking so pretty, tonight
Sexy, formal, an anchor's delight
They'll charm everyone in sight
It's like a lamp store in here, it's so bright.

Teeth gleaming, hair sculpted
Meticulous cosmetic morphing
Into perfect candidates,
The kind who never quite debate,
At best get testy
Are never late

But we must cast our ballots, tonight
On what basis? Who knows wrong from right?
Let's just be fools for a night,
We'll vote, but first turn out the light.
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sat Oct 05, 2013 8:39 pm

VLAD AND ME, by Charles Carreon



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I am a Communist
It works so good
I couldn't resist
I tell my friend Vlad,
Vladimir Putin
You know we're friends
Sure as shootin'
I-I
Wanna be like you!

We got the world divided
Into separate blocks
We got nucular suppositories
Nucular socks
Those other nations can
All kiss our ass
And while they're doing it
We'll pass some gas
'Cause I-I
Wanna be like you.

Right-wing bigots
They love me, too
You fight your terrorists
Just like I do
Reward your friends
Put your enemies under
You, my man,
Have earned the right to plunder,
And I-I
Wanna be like you.

Those minor differences
Won't get in our way...
Iran/Iraq United Nations
What the 'hey,
'Cause it's all in a world ruler's day,
And if they stuck a mike
up to my face
Here is what I'd say --
"Yeah, I-I
Wanna be like you
Yeah, I-I
Wanna be like you!"

Hey, did you kiss your sister?
Did you go to prep school?
Did you kill anyone in the KGB?
Don't you wish that you were
more successful?
Whaddaya think about Condi and me?
I think the job is kinda stressful
You seem to handle it marvelously
So I-I
Wanna be like you.

I am a Communist
It works so good
I couldn't resist
I tell my friend Vlad,
Vladimir Putin
You know we're friends
Sure as shootin'
I-I
Wanna be like you!
-- I mean it, man!
I-I
Wanna be like you!
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sat Oct 05, 2013 8:42 pm

WORKIN' FOR THE CIA, by Charles Carreon



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Well it's another perfect day
in the neighborhood
With perfect people everywhere
Painting picket fences
and makin' double lattes,
Workin' for the CIA.

There's not a whole lotta places a guy can go
To find employment and security.
The whole private sector is just a show,
A cover for the CIA.

We come in all shapes and sizes
Don't you know,
Mohamedan, Christian and Jew,
Buddhist and Taoist even some of us
Believe in Sai Baba, too
But under the skin
We're all blacker than sin
Workin' for the CIA.

Yeah the money's good here
And it spends real fine
Printed by the CIA,
And there's plenty of jobs
in interrogation
Workin' for the CIA,
Ya get to know your neighbors,
Ya get to know the truth
About a whole lot of things
We know about you,
Yeah there's a whole lotta perks
With a company spot,
Workin' for the CIA.

See that guy over there
In the cycle shop,
And that bum smokin' crack
at the old bus stop,
That postal employee
cleanin' out the box,
All workin' for the CIA.

It's just another perfect day
In the neighborhood,
Developed by the CIA.
And if you're not plugged in
It might not be so good,
I mean with the CIA.
So we'll be by again and see just what
you think,
And remember it's just CIA.
CIA.
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Oct 29, 2013 6:47 pm

You Can’t Defeat an Avocado
by Charles Carreon



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(It’s like a wind that blows a thousand miles an hour.
You will be like -- “All my shit has been blown away…”)


Yeah many man's tried
And many man's died
Because you can’t defeat
An avocado
An avocado may look small
But inside, it’s ten feet tall,
That’s why you can’t defeat an avocado
You may learn some lessons in your life
From your husband or your wife
But until you see the light
You don’t know wrong from right
But you need never fear
The avocado’s here
And you can’t defeat an avocado
We’re takin’ bets here every night
The smart money’s always right
And you bet
That it’s on
The avocado
Because you can’t
No you can’t
You just can’t
No you can’t
You just can’t
Defeat
An avocado
Like Napoleon at Waterloo
My friend that will be you
If you attempt to overthrow
An avocado
Yeah, like Hitler at Stalingrad
It will be that bad
If you try to defeat
An avocado
Now wine comes from grapes
And people came from apes
But an avocado has a pit
And that’s just the heart of it!
So you can’t
No you can’t
No you can’t
No you can’t
You just can’t defeat an avocado
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Re: American Fight Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sun Dec 11, 2016 8:03 pm

Fake News, Self-Censorship and the Three Stupid Monkeys
by Charles Carreon
December 10, 2016

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.




“See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” This formulation was first declared to me by some peer at the age of three or four – a veritable wise man he seemed to me – revealing the meaning of the mysterious three-monkey tableux so often encountered among the knick knacks adults accumulated in those days. It was a big revelation: the three monkeys, the first covering his eyes, the second his ears, and the third, his mouth – were a visual representation of the concept. Oh, now that I understood, how wise and virtuous those monkeys seemed. I understood in a flash why they were venerated by so many of the great and powerful big people. They were not taking in, or spreading “evil.” These monkeys were definitely on the right side of the game, since everybody knew “evil” was the worst thing of all.

So I was really surprised when I told my dad that I’d realized how important the wisdom of the three monkeys was, and he told me it was a bunch of crap. Nobody, he explained, should keep their mouth shut about evil. If there was evil going on, we needed to find out about it. We needed to see it, hear it, talk about it, and put an end to it. My namby-pamby see-no, hear-no, speak-no-evil pose went up in flames that day, and I’ve held a grudge against those cowardly monkeys ever since for leading me to make an ass out of myself in front of my dad.

Recently, I heard that an anonymous website had just come up with a list of suspect websites proliferating “fake news” to advance a Russian agenda, and the Washington Post elevated this website to the status of a genuine news-origin certifying authority. I did not bother to be concerned. People who will avoid the blacklisted news outlets are engaged in proactive self-censorship. By supporting the list, they tell everyone in earshot that they aren’t hearing or seeing fake news, so it’s impossible that they will speak it. Their minds won’t be contaminated by fake news, and no one can blame them for spreading it. If the thought police look in their heads, they will find them empty.

Image
Three-monkey relief carving (hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil) on Shinkyusha. Nikko, Japan

Fake News (To the tune of “Downtown”)
by Charles Carreon
12/10/16

Turn on the TV
Hear the things that they’re saying
Well it sounds a lot
Like News

Pick up the paper
Read the things that are written
Well it surely looks
Like News

But now the “Prop or Not” List
Has landed in my Twitter
And Huff-po, WaPo, Daily Beast
They all are in a flutter –
What to Believe?
The Rooskies are under the Bed
The Chinese are here to be fed
This is
Fake News!
Let’s see if it’s on the list
Oh dear, Look at it right here,
Fake News!
Straight from the Kremlin, they say!

Power’s corrupting
And media has power
To sell Fake News!
Now who do you think
Might be in a position
To buy Fake News?

I mean the news is spozed to
Give you all the skinny
The straight dope and the lowdown
And the truly on the level.
Good luck with that!
Citizens United took over your head
Now the screaming liberals
Say Conservatives are Red
This is Fake News
Don’t try to sell me this
Fake News
I know this shit’s on the list
Fake News
Just stick this right up your ass.

Truth is expensive,
So they use it quite sparingly in
Fake News
Like the sun’s in the sky
And there’s a base on the moon
You call that Fake News?
Your mind is just a playground
For thoughts of other’s making
Your choices like a baby’s candy
Right there for the taking.

They have to lie, too
The Rooskies are under the Bed
The Chinese are here to be fed
This is
Fake News!
Let’s see if it’s on the list
Oh dear, Look at it right here,
Fake News!
Straight from the Kremlin, they say!
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