Maggie's Farm

"It's unbelievable, it's strange but true,
It's inconceivable it could happen to you.
You go north and you go south
Just like bait in the fish's mouth.
Ya must be livin' in the shadow of some kind of evil star.
It's unbelievable it would get this far.

It's undeniable what they'd have you to think,
It's indescribable, it can drive you to drink.
They said it was the land of milk and honey,
now they say it's the land of money.
Who ever thought they could ever make that stick.
It's unbelievable you can get this rich this quick.

Every head is so dignified, every moon is so sanctified,
Every urge is so satisfied as long as you're with me.
All the silver, all the gold, all the sweethearts you can hold
That don't come back with stories untold, are hanging on a tree.

It's unbelievable like a lead balloon,
It's so impossible to even learn the tune.
Kill that beast and feed that swine,
Scale that wall and smoke that vine,
Feed that horse and saddle up the drum.
It's unbelievable, the day would finally come.

Once there was a man who had no eyes,
Every lady in the land told him lies,
He stood beneath the silver skies
And his heart began to bleed.
Every brain is civilized,
Every nerve is analyzed,
Everything is criticized when you are in need.

It's unbelievable, it's fancy-free,
So interchangeable, so delightful to see.
Turn your back, wash your hands,
There's always someone who understands
It don't matter no more what you got to say
It's unbelievable it would go down this way."

"Unbelievable," off 1990's critical failure Under The Red Sky.  I could not find any live performances on youtube, though there have been a handful over the years, but did discover that there was, against all odds, a music video made of the song.  I don't believe it won any awards, but it does allow you to hear the original album version. 

White teen beaten by five or six blacks (presumably honor students and football stars, all) in Ocean View, VA this past weekend. You can read the story and watch the rather disturbing video at the link here. 

Just a bunch of kids rough-housing, doing what boys do, right?  Watch it and make up your own mind.

"How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind."

"Blowin' In The Wind," off The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan.  The song was the last one performed at Dylan's show at the Ryman last night (see above photo, taken by the Dylanologist at the show as Bob and the band took their bows).  The youtube below, however, is from the glory days of 2000, with Larry Campbell and Charlie Sexton backing up Bob on the vocals.

"Our conversation was short and sweet
It nearly swept me off-a my feet.
And I'm back in the rain,
And you are on dry land.
You made it there somehow
You're a big girl now.

Bird on the horizon, sittin' on a fence,
He's singin' his song for me at his own expense.
And I'm just like that bird,
Singin' just for you.
I hope that you can hear,
Hear me singin' through these tears.

Time is a jet plane, it moves too fast
Oh, but what a shame if all we've shared can't last.
I can change, I swear,
See what you can do.
I can make it through,
You can make it too.

Love is so simple, to quote a phrase,
You've known it all the time, I'm learnin' it these days.
Oh, I know where I can find you,
In somebody's room.
It's a price I have to pay
You're a big girl all the way.

A change in the weather is known to be extreme
But what's the sense of changing horses in midstream?
I'm going out of my mind,
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a corkscrew to my heart
Ever since we've been apart."

"You're a Big Girl Now," a song that needs little introduction, from none other than Blood On The Tracks.  A performance from April 1997 is below, from a show just three days before the one The Dylanologist, tender of years, witnessed in Wayne, NJ along with Bird Dog.

"Maybe it's the color of the sun cut flat
An' coverin' the crossroads I'm standing at,
Or maybe it's the weather or something like that,
But mama, you been on my mind.

I don't mean trouble, please don't put me down or get upset,
I am not pleadin' or sayin', "I can't forget."
I do not walk the floor bowed down an' bent, but yet,
Mama, you been on my mind.

Even though my mind is hazy an' my thoughts they might be narrow,
Where you been don't bother me nor bring me down in sorrow.
It don't even matter to me where you're wakin' up tomorrow,
But mama, you're just on my mind.

I am not askin' you to say words like "yes" or "no,"
Please understand me, I got no place for you t' go.
I'm just breathin' to myself, pretendin' not that I don't know,
Mama, you been on my mind.

When you wake up in the mornin', baby, look inside your mirror.
You know I won't be next to you, you know I won't be near.
I'd just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear
As someone who has had you on his mind."

"Mama, You Been On My Mind," recorded in 1964 but only officially released on 1991's must-have collection, The Bootleg Series Vols. I-III.  The song had been performed in concert many times before that, however, including memorable duet performances with Joan Baez during the Rolling Thunder Revue in 1975 (now also available in official release).  Dylan has also performed the song numerous times during the Neverending Tour, including the version below from the spring of 2000. 

"Hazel, dirty-blonde hair
I wouldn't be ashamed to be seen with you anywhere.
You got something I want plenty of
Ooh, a little touch of your love.

Hazel, stardust in your eye
You're goin' somewhere and so am I.
I'd give you the sky high above
Ooh, for a little touch of your love.

Oh no, I don't need any reminder
To know how much I really care
But it's just making me blinder and blinder
Because I'm up on a hill and still you're not there.

Hazel, you called and I came,
Now don't make me play this waiting game.
You've got something I want plenty of
Ooh, a little touch of your love."

"Hazel,"  from 1974's Planet Waves.  The performance below is from the rehearsals for the MTV Unplugged sessions in New York in November 1994.  Though the song was actually played during one of the two shows, the performance was omitted from the album.

"I'm out here a thousand miles from my home,
Walkin' a road other men have gone down.
I'm seein' your world of people and things,
Your paupers and peasants and princes and kings.

Hey, hey Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song
'Bout a funny ol' world that's a-comin' along.
Seems sick an' it's hungry, it's tired an' it's torn,
It looks like it's a-dyin' an' it's hardly been born.

Hey, Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know
All the things that I'm a-sayin' an' a-many times more.
I'm a-singin' you the song, but I can't sing enough,
'Cause there's not many men that done the things that you've done.

Here's to Cisco an' Sonny an' Leadbelly too,
An' to all the good people that traveled with you.
Here's to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind.

I'm a-leaving' tomorrow, but I could leave today,
Somewhere down the road someday.
The very last thing that I'd want to do
Is to say I've been hittin' some hard travelin' too."

"Song To Woody," one of the first original compositions Dylan ever penned, if not the first, and released on his self-titled first album.  A tender version from 1999 is below.

"I married Isis on the fifth day of May,
But I could not hold on to her very long.
So I cut off my hair and I rode straight away
For the wild unknown country where I could not go wrong.

I came to a high place of darkness and light.
The dividing line ran through the center of town.
I hitched up my pony to a post on the right,
Went in to a laundry to wash my clothes down.

A man in the corner approached me for a match.
I knew right away he was not ordinary.
He said, "Are you lookin' for somethin' easy to catch?"
I said, "I got no money." He said, "That ain't necessary."

We set out that night for the cold in the North.
I gave him my blanket, he gave me his word.
I said, "Where are we goin'?" He said we'd be back by the fourth.
I said, "That's the best news that I've ever heard."

I was thinkin' about turquoise, I was thinkin' about gold,
I was thinkin' about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace.
As we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold,
I was thinkin' about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless.

How she told me that one day we would meet up again,
And things would be different the next time we wed,
If I only could hang on and just be her friend.
I still can't remember all the best things she said.

We came to the pyramids all embedded in ice.
He said, "There's a body I'm tryin' to find.
If I carry it out it'll bring a good price."
'Twas then that I knew what he had on his mind.

The wind it was howlin' and the snow was outrageous.
We chopped through the night and we chopped through the dawn.
When he died I was hopin' that it wasn't contagious,
But I made up my mind that I had to go on.

I broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty.
There was no jewels, no nothin', I felt I'd been had.
When I saw that my partner was just bein' friendly,
When I took up his offer I must-a been mad.

I picked up his body and I dragged him inside,
Threw him down in the hole and I put back the cover.
I said a quick prayer and I felt satisfied.
Then I rode back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.

She was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise.
Blinded by sleep and in need of a bed,
I came in from the East with the sun in my eyes.
I cursed her one time then I rode on ahead.

She said, "Where ya been?" I said, "No place special."
She said, "You look different." I said, "Well, I guess."
She said, "You been gone." I said, "That's only natural."
She said, "You gonna stay?" I said, "If you want me to, yes."

Isis, oh, Isis, you mystical child.
What drives me to you is what drives me insane.
I still can remember the way that you smiled
On the fifth day of May in the drizzlin' rain."

"Isis," our first-ever selection from Desire.  A live version from the Rolling Thunder Revue, with Dylan in whiteface, is below.

"Well, if you're travelin' in the north country fair,
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline,
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.

Well, if you go when the snowflakes storm,
When the rivers freeze and summer ends,
Please see if she's wearing a coat so warm,
To keep her from the howlin' winds.

Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
If it rolls and flows all down her breast.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
That's the way I remember her best.

I'm a-wonderin' if she remembers me at all.
Many times I've often prayed
In the darkness of my night,
In the brightness of my day.

So if you're travelin' in the north country fair,
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline,
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine."

"Girl of the North Country," of course, from The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan at the request of reader KB.  No less than two youtubes are provided below for your viewing and listening pleasure: the first with a certain J.R. Cash from 1969, and the second a drawn-out acoustic wonderland, with lengthy harmonica coda, from the soulful Summer '96 tour. 

"Close your eyes, close the door,
You don't have to worry any more.
I'll be your baby tonight.

Shut the light, shut the shade,
You don't have to be afraid.
I'll be your baby tonight.

Well, that mockingbird's gonna sail away,
We're gonna forget it.
That big, fat moon is gonna shine like a spoon,
But we're gonna let it,
You won't regret it.

Kick your shoes off, do not fear,
Bring that bottle over here.
I'll be your baby tonight." 

"I'll Be Your Baby Tonight," the last song on John Wesley Harding and the one which portended the shift to country on Nashville Skyline.  But a catchy little tune in its own right.  A version from the Fall 2000 tour is below.

It was a good hike up to Greeter Falls on Sunday. This 50' waterfall is not very dramatic with the dry summer we have had here. The swimmin' hole is good. The rock is deep-ocean limestone from the great inland sea. A while ago, there was some fine ichthyosaur fishing here.

"They say ev'rything can be replaced,
They say ev'ry distance is not near.
So I remember ev'ry face
Of ev'ry man who put me here.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

They say ev'ry man needs protection,
They say ev'ry man must fall.
Yet I swear I see my reflection
Some place so high above this wall.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

Standing next to me in this lonely crowd,
Is a man who swears he's not to blame.
All day long I hear him shout so loud,
Crying out that he was framed.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released."


"I Shall Be Released," written back in 1967 at Big Pink.  At least four versions have been officially released, with hundreds more live performances, as well as dozens upon dozens of covers by everyone from The Band to the Pretenders.  A version from 1994, complete with symphony orchestra, is below.

Bird Dog has already commented on the Left's upside-down understanding of economics in which it is assumed that the rich gain their wealth only through taking from others.  While this "zero-sum" fallacy usually arises in the context of domestic issues, enterprising Leftists have employed it in an international context as well: see, for example, any of Bono's or Bob Geldof's commentary on Africa, or the lovable George Galloway, who recently remarked that India's economy is growing so rapidly only because it is making up ground that it was "not allowed to occupy" during colonialism. 

Galloway is not worth paying any attention to, of course, but even The Dylanologist's old political science professor back in college gave a similar explanation for why the economies of Africa had failed to make any gains in prosperity since independence (it was because those nasty colonialists built railroads to serve resource exploitation rather than domestic growth, in case you were wondering.  And no, do not ask how the countries would have been more productive without any railroads at all).

The irony of the views of virulently anti-Western politicians such as Galloway is that they necessarily must cast the nations of Western Europe as all-powerful entities, capable of holding entire nations hostage to their will, while India and the nations of Africa are reduced to passive and helpless actors who can only be what the nations of Europe let them be. This point of view is hardly less patronizing than anything dreamed up by 19th century colonialists. 

The truth?  As Bird Dog has mentioned, each nation must come to prosperity on its own terms: no poor nation ever grew wealthy through aid alone, nor have war and oppression ever been able to permanantly cripple an economically vigorous country.

Photo: The splendid Masai, who do not welcome Western condescension or pity.

For the pleasure and convenience of our handful of readers who really enjoy Bob, we are adding to our Dylan blogroll category

All Along the Watchtower

and

About Bob.

By the way, where is Bob this month?

With apologies to George
Pickett, one can only hope
that this most recent
campaign to pass so-called comprehensive immigration reform represents the closest Bush, Kennedy McCain and the rest will likely come to achieving their goal of completely dismantling the borders of the USA. 

After years of strategic moves to ensure that amnesty supporters were inserted in key positions - remember Bush's campaign for Arlen Specter during his primary challenge, and his subsequent elevation to chair of the Senate Judiciary Committee?  Or Mel Martinez' appointment to lead the RNC?  Or the appointment of Chertoff, who seems to care more about the price of lettuce than the enforcement of immigration law? - the momentum was all on the side of the amnesty crowd.  This latest push seemed to have a strong chance of succeeding, but at the very moment when passage of the legislation was so close and defeat seemed so near, the tide was turned and the bill was beaten back. 

The bodies of the injured and fallen are scattered across the field of battle: John McCain, Lindsay Graham, Sam Brownback, and not least of all the seriously wounded President Bush, who invested every last remaining resource at his disposal to advance a bill that was massively unpopular among just about every voting group.  The civil war here was truly one fought between and among conservatives, with the Democrats as pleased bystanders, happy to profit either through the bill's passage (12 million new Democratic voters) or simply through the political carnage Bush wrought on his own party by pushing it. 

Will the victors seize the moment by pushing back and finally fighting the war on their own terms? 

The News Junkie wonders why we are admitting Iraqi refugees below.  Fact is, we are not just bringing over any old Iraqis, but the ones who, through their actions, have been our best allies and who have become targets through providing aid and assistance to the American occupation.  The problem with this is that these are the very people we need to stay in Iraq to work for ... well, whatever it is we are trying to work for over there.  Not to mention the fact that by admitting Christian Iraqis as permanent refugees were are in a sense assisting the Muslim majority in ethnically cleansing the country of its ancient Christian communities.

As a side note, the refugee program has nothing do to with the needs of refugees anyways, and is profoundly corrupt: the government sets an annual quota to be met regardless of need, then hires contractors (often religious organizations) to scour the world for anyone they can plausibly depict as a refugee, then provides money to ship them over to what is usually a small, poor Northeastern or Midwestern town.  After the initial funding runs out, the town is stuck with the bill for taking care of the newcomers whether it wanted them or not. 

This week it's La Crosse, Wisconsin, a nice little town on the Mississippi River along the border with Minnesota.  As the story goes, the site got its name when explorer Zebulon Pike witnessed local Indian tribes playing a game with sticks that resembled a bishop's crozier, or crosse, in the language of the French fur traders who, as usual, were the first Europeans to establish themselves in the area.  In the late 1800s, thousands of Norwegian and German settlers moved to the area, lending it a character which remains to this day. 

The town was the beneficiary of plenty of that distinctively American "main street" style architecture during the 1880s and 1890s, as can be seen in the old postcard above, and to the town's good fortune most of it has survived to the present day.  Through a city-wide master plan for redevelopment La Crosse has managed to renovate and refurbish over 100 historic buildings while attracting cutting-edge technology and communications firms to the town.  The entire riverfront has been developed as well and outfitted with walking paths and recreational boating areas, making the downtown an even more attractive place to live.  The main downside to the place?  It's too darn cold for a lot of folks, though the Norwegian settlers didn't mind too much, as this excerpt from an 1854 letter written by a Norwegian immigrant to his relatives back home shows:

"When you wrote about some coffee beans, it is impossible for us to obtain them. They grow in South America under sunshine and a warm and unhealthy climate. Here the climate is cold, healthy and fresh. . . "

The Dylanologist would have to agree, though of course it's true that there's an awful lot of coffee in Brazil.   

With all the posts Bird Dog and I have written about the tragic fate of so much of the nation's architectural legacy during the 1960s and 70s (here and here, for examples), I decided to put a more positive spin on things by focusing instead on those fortunate towns that survived "urban renewal" more or less intact.  Whether through shrewd foresight, adept planning or just plain luck, these towns weathered the storm and survived into a age where the noble civic architecture of the pre-war years is valued and treasured.

Our first featured town?  Staunton, Virginia, known for being the birthplace of Woodrow Wilson and a major trade hub of the Confederacy during the Civil War.  Unlike many other southern cities, however, Staunton received hardly any damage during the war, so a large number of the elegant antebellum residences have survived to the present day. 

In the four decades following the war, the city was embellished with stately Victorian and Romanesque architecture courtesy of architect T.J. Collins.  Staunton was small enough, moreover, that no urban planner chose to route an interstate through the downtown area during the postwar years.  When the city fell into decline in the 60s, many buildings fell into disrepair, but few were actually torn down.  By the late 1970s, civic-minded citizens were already hard at work preserving the precious architectural heritage of Staunton. 

The one major new addition to the downtown in recent years - a much-needed parking garage - was built in an elegant classical style that melded with the rest of the city and captured an award for outstanding and original design in 2002.

All the red-faced tirades of Lindsay Graham and Ted Kennedy, and the condescending and insulting comments by GWB (all furious at the "emotional" arguments of the opposition, apparently), were not enough to save the Senate immigration bill, which essentially died yesterday when it failed to garner enough votes to limit debate.  This marks the second time in two years that an amnesty bill has been defeated before making its way to the President's ready-and-waiting desk.

President Bush, who recently lashed out at his own Republican base by questioning their patriotism and accusing them of trying to "frighten" Americans by calling the bill an amnesty, apparently came down sick the same evening, according to Larry Auster.  Perhaps not coincidentally, Bush was photographed drinking a beer (see above photo) before the episode, despite his well-documented abstention from alcohol.

Update: As noted in the comments, the official line from the White House is that it was a non-alcoholic beer.  The actual source of Bush's stomach ailment?  A surfeit of rootbeer and raspberry cheesecake at the G8 dinner, apparently.

"You have given everything to me.
What can I do for You?
You have given me eyes to see.
What can I do for You?

Pulled me out of bondage and You made me renewed inside,
Filled up a hunger that had always been denied,
Opened up a door no man can shut and You opened it up so wide
And You've chosen me to be among the few.
What can I do for You?

You have laid down Your life for me.
What can I do for You?
You have explained every mystery.
What can I do for You?

Soon as a man is born, you know the sparks begin to fly,
He gets wise in his own eyes and he's made to believe a lie.
Who would deliver him from the death he's bound to die?
Well, You've done it all and there's no more anyone can pretend to do.
What can I do for You?

You have given all there is to give.
What can I do for You?
You have given me life to live.
How can I live for You?

I know all about poison, I know all about fiery darts,
I don't care how rough the road is, show me where it starts,
Whatever pleases You, tell it to my heart.
Well, I don't deserve it but I sure did make it through.
What can I do for You?"

"What Can I Do For You," from 1980's Saved, the second of Dylan's three Christian-content albums, and the least well regarded despite the presence of several excellent songs.  Here's a youtube from a 1980 performance in Toronto.