Eight Lives Left

Politically focused alternative rap/hiphop…

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

Look at me, look at me
Hands in the air like it’s good to be
ALIVE
And I’m a famous rapper
Even when the paths’re all crookedy
I can show you how to do-si-do
I can show you how to scratch a record
I can take apart the remote control
And I can almost put it back together
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem
I can tell you about Leif Ericson
I know all the words to “De Colores”
And “I’m Proud to be an American”
Me and my friend saw a platypus
Me and my friend made a comic book
And guess how long it took
I can do anything that I want cuz, look:

I can keep rhythm with no metronome
No metronome
No metronome

And I can see your face on the telephone
On the telephone
On the telephone

Look at me
Look at me
Just called to say that it’s good to be
ALIVE
In such a small world
I’m all curled up with a book to read
I can make money open up a thrift store
I can make a living off a magazine
I can design an engine sixty four
Miles to a gallon of gasoline
I can make new antibiotics
I can make computers survive aquatic conditions
I know how to run a business
And I can make you wanna buy a product
Movers shakers and producers
Me and my friends understand the future
I see the strings that control the systems
I can do anything with no assistance

Cuz I can lead a nation with a microphone
With a microphone
With a microphone

And I can split the atom of a molecule
Of a molecule
Of a molecule

Look at me
Look at me
Driving and I won’t stop
And it feels so good to be
Alive and on top
My reach is global
My tower secure
My cause is noble
My power is pure
I can hand out a million vaccinations
Or let ‘em all die in exasperation
Have ‘em all healed of their lacerations
Have ‘em all killed by assassination
I can make anybody go to prison
Just because I don’t like ‘em and
I can do anything with no permission
I have it all under my command

Because I can guide a missile by satellite
By satellite
By satellite

And I can hit a target through a telescope
Through a telescope
Through a telescope

And I can end the planet in a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

[VIA]

Dude. I think it got him right in the face!

Staples was supposed to deliver my desk yesterday. Around 10:30 I peeked outside my front door and discovered a delivery notice stuck to it, saying they’d come by at 9:15am and I didn’t answer the door so no delivery. All I can think is that either they didn’t really knock, or I didn’t hear the door when I was in the back cleaning the cat box. Gah. I called Staples and asked them to have the delivery man call me before he delivered so I’d be sure to be in the right spot when he comes by today. I’m hovering by the front door like a freak now, really nervous that I’ll miss them again. I just want my damned desk!

I took today off from work because, well, because I wanted to, but also there’s the desk stuff going on and I’m meeting my sister at 3:30pm or so to shop for futons for the spare room. If the desk does show up today then I might be tempted to try and put it together myself, but really I shouldn’t because it’s large and heavy and probably requires two people. I’ll try to be patient and just call the subcontractor who does the assembly to make an appointment. I really really want my office set up, though. This is ridiculous. I’ve been here a month now - all of these boxes should be empty!

Amazon has the song from the Where the Hell is Matt video that’s making the Internet rounds right now. I bought it because it’s lovely, and I like the English translation of the lyrics. It’s from a poem by Rabindranth Tagore called Gitanjali.

Stream of Life

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

And just for the hell of it, here’s the video:

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

Absolutely hysterical.

Click To Play

I’m sure this has been all over the Internet already, but it cracked me up so hard that I have to save it here.

And yes, he really did call his wife a cunt in front of reporters back in 1992.