All the money you made will never buy back your soul.

In relation to the previous post, which makes me so angry, let me perhaps illegally quote the entirety of Bob Dylan’s Masters of War, which I feel I can say with certainty very closely mirrors what I was saying there, minus the science fiction overtones which pervade my thinking. And of course you’re doing yourself a favor if you go find the song on YouTube (or whatever) and refresh your memory and get kicked in the gut if my link gets yanked.

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion’
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand over your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead.

After I get Nefarious at school I’ve got to head up shopping and pick her up an SD card for a free camera I got the other day that’s become hers (nothing exciting, a nice 12MP Kodak EasyShare that came with my new printer, one of those new cheap multi-use HP inkjets that comes with that awesome wifi control panel that’s kind of a mini-iPad). While I’m there I’m going to pick up some… well, some something because I want to do one of those “object portraits” made of stuff mostly for fun.

I know I criticized the last few years of my artistic life for just doing trite meaningless crap, but it will be nice to take a break and do something light and enjoyable.

Other than that I’ve been working on upping my skull soap stock and I’m pretty pleased with how these molds turned out. I still have to make a cast of the latest skull candle design and post that as well, I’m just not sure if I have enough wax here right now. Those of you who I owe ModCon books to I’m going to put in some of these as thank you gifts and apologies for being a bit tardy with shipment on the second batch. This is caffenated soap by the way, which I’m told is good for your skin and wakes you up in the morning. Dunno if that’s bullshit or not.

I have a couple other secrets to blather but I will save those for another time when they’ve grown a bit more. So yeah, I’m outta here.

PS. Her dad had sensible advice.

One Comment

  1. DIYer wrote:


    What would Jesus bomb?

    Saturday, January 22, 2011 at 10:09 am | Permalink
Wow Shannon, that's really annoying! What is it, 1997 on Geocities? Retroweb is NOT cool!

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