ROLLING STONES LICK IRAQ

Bro- Before my voice fails or my eyes close or my ears are filled with concrete, I hit the meds heavyduty and listen to what I found: kinda weirdo fucked-up paradise with naked women dancing on my chest and fireworks exploding in my veins and just the tiniest slice of ache between my legs which I grabbed onto before I fell backwards into the tornado! Cool, huh? We got moved again in the middle of the night to another room in the Palace but everyone was so fucked-up on their black sleepytime pills that we hardly knew it. There are paintings on the walls of virgins awaiting the pods but they belong to us now! My brain gets so totally screwed-up- well, you know like the song says- I AM an American idiot but, hey, it’s ok because laying here aiming my load at the wall pussy I am fighting the war on terror righteously, religiously and really really hard! But with the shooting outside in the protected zone and the shots hitting in here, I lose it sometimes and then there I am crawling under GI Joe’s bed searching for the way out. It must be here somewhere. The NewKid set-up sick speakers that cover the sound of insurgent explosions! So we hear Rummy-the-Dummy is coming around to heal us- All fuckin top secret Secret Service Guns Drawn Sniffin Dogs! Lick My Ass, Motherfucker! But, get this!- NewKid turns up the Pistols screaming about Liars just as DumRum arrives! His Personal Republican Guards fight one another to cover/protect him as they all go down onto the dirty Palace floor and Blindy snaps some digitals for his homeboys. This will not be news fit to print, I guarantee you. It seems like we’re winning Big Time except that somebody’s selling guns to the pods- I wonder who that could be? Luckily, the NRA is arming the USA by selling guns. I love my gun. Almost as much as I love my cock! So Dr DJ explains about the consequences of killing; he says he doesn’t have to explain the consequences of being killed and laughs like a fuckin glue-sniffin asshole by a dumpster in the alley by your mom’s house. This guy is fuckin Crazy Glue! He’s an old guy about 40 or 50 but works out with the gym rats. He ENLISTED! after his son quit college to join up and now there both here in Iraqqie. This Doc talks like fucker- trying to “educate” us about the Real World not on MTV. Well, you know we’re trapped in these beds and he tells good stories whether they’re bullshit or not. He and NewKid have bonded cause Doc was a DJ on a college radio station back home. I heard Dr DJ whispering to the Holy Ghost in the next bed one night; the Ghost has these hallucinations that turn into epileptic fits and we try to calm him down when he starts to rave- but- But sometimes he makes sense right up to the point that he begins to tremble&shake – twitching, arching, convulsing- like a snake being picked up by a fork so we never know. Who does? The Holy Ghost is always dying but holding  desperately onto something that keeps him alive even when he wants to die. “I got a helicopter in my chest!” he screams. This is when  I want concrete in my ears. I don’t wanna hear it! Dr DJ tries to comfort him but suddenly there are helicopters in all our chests and outside the Palace more helicopters coming in to fill up all the free space where our breaths are held  until there are explosions inside our bodies that fuckin hurt! Free Pain! Everywhere! Holy Ghost spreads his Agony. The nurses run into our ward to calm us with beautiful needles. Dr DJ turns to me while cradling the Ghost and says, “You’re so close to the Holy Ghost that I’m going to personally give you Extra M.” Yeah, I think, I’m lucky to be so close to pain, Thank you, Jesus-All-Resurrection-No-Crucifixtion. M slides into me sweetly and I watch Dr DJ inject himself because he must heal himself, also. It is truly glorious to be in a good war; I almost wish you were here. I’m trying to remember all the good times we had but in my current state I keep getting them all mixed-up with movies and songs and commercials where things are the way they’re supposed to be. I wonder if things will ever straighten out but maybe they don’t have to. We get the latest news about tragedies in the USA: Knocked-up Britney, Free Headlicker Jackson, Ungay Cruise, and of course, the Weapons of Mass Destruction we brought to Iraq. Fush & Chainey have a plan with no queers allowed except for Brown Rice. Dr DJ & NewKid are making “soundtracks” for us to hear which will “help us understand and heal” and to tell you the truth it’s a fuckin cool idea. I mean, who needs Hollywood to show us what we can imagine ourselves?! I dreamt I was swimming while falling. Was I a fish? Or Alice? I fell while I was dreaming and I rolled across the Palace floor to an empty corner where there was a crack in world and I wanted to go home. Then it cracked open. I guess you already heard about the Big Suicide bombers who hit last night. The Palace was pretty shook up. The dead were in the hallway; the dying in the doorway and we, the wounded, were jammed together in here with the wall virgins penetrated by stray bullets. The walls weren’t bleeding but everyone coming in was. I thought I heard a familiar voice (Tink?) but then it turned to a scream and I was deaf again. I don’t want to be here no more. Unless I’m high…. The unofficial report is that the Fuckin Suicide Pod was some kind of Holy(Holey) Man who was waving People Magazine, ranting and raving about offensive photos in it and some of our guys laughingly made the 2-index finger cross like he was a vampire which drove the fucker over the Iraqie edge: he starts pulling his hair out- in clumps!- and while everyone’s laughing, two kids run up to the Palace and blow themselves up. “God is an American.” Everyone was trying to communicate but there was too much fuckin confusion. Dr DJ was pretty strungout and overwhelmed with demands for M but he hung in there and healed and simultaneously lectured on the history of rocknroll while the faithfull listened. The heat grew as the Palace filled. I twisted my head to watch as dozens of exhausted troops rushed through the hallways. “Where are you going?!” I wanted to yell but no one could hear or listen. There was the smell of blood and shit everywhere and men crying in shock and pain- no awe here. The shit feels like it will never end but eventually the sun sets and the pods go home to their caves and goats and we, the lucky wounded, return to M while in the hallways the dead Americans are stacked in individual bags waiting to return invisibly to the USA where as you said, “Nothin’s changed except everything.” Dr DJ hadn’t slept for days and we could all see how old he was getting but he kept on keeping on. The NewKid was sent out on a press/communications mission because there’s a new TV show by the guy that made NYPD about this shit called “Over There”- NOT “Over HERE!” so I guess the Powers-That-Be must be preparing some kind of reply- like, you know, it aint so bad over there cause we already WON! How do I fuckin get some of that big TV money?! I could write some serious shit. So Doc became our only DJ. He knew how much I love music and I had been paying attention to his Rocknroll History 101; he was up to the late 60’s in English rocknroll, so I wasn’t too surprised when he burst into the ward to tell me the Biggest News of All Time: THE ROLLING STONES ARE GOING TO TOUR IRAQ “I can see the headlines,” he exclaimed, “THE ROLLING STONES LICK IRAQ!” “They’ll end this war!” he confidently predicted rushing to play their peace anthem as the troops marched back out of the Palace into the remaining daze of the war. So, Buddy, there are still people- even Doctors- who believe rocknroll can change the world but the news gets worse before better: I will never forget the Doc’s animalistic cry shaking the Palace walls as he opened a body bag to see his son. I don’t want to be here. I dont want to hear. I’ve got no expectations….. I hope this blog isn’t too sad; it’s just the way things are right now. I got a heavy heart I need to get fixed. “Hope there’s someone who’ll take care of me when I die…” Over And Inner. © 2005 by Richard Sassin	Download ROLLING STONES LICK IRAQ.MP3 (1 hour, 44 min.) 149 Megs
	The Songs Before My Voice Fails - Gang Gang Dance - God's Money American Idiot - Green Day - American Idiot Liar - Sex Pistols - Never Mind The Bollocks To Buy A Gun - Idiot Pilot - Strange We Should Meet Here Killing - The Rapture - Echoes None Of Us Are Free - Solomon Burke - Don't Give Up On Me Memento Mori - Patti Smith - Peace And Noise Two For Joy - Electrolane - Axes Magic Tiime - Van Morrison - Magic Time 16 Military Wives - The Decemberists - Picaresque There She Goes, My Beautiful World - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Abattoir Blues Down A Rabbit Hole - Bright Eyes - Digital Ash In A Digital Urn I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine - Bob Dylan - John Wesley Harding I'm Afraid Of Americans - David Bowie - Earthling Transcendental Suicide - The Soundtrack Of Our Lives - Origin Vol. 1 Before The Poison - Marianne Faithfull - Before The Poison Devils & Dust - Bruce Springsteen - Devils & Dust Heavy Soul  - Paul Weller - Heavy Soul Another Tribe - Robert Plant - Mighty Rearranger Street Fighting Man - The Rolling Stones - Beggars  Banquet No Expectations - The Rolling Stones - Beggars Banquet Hope There's Someone - Anthony & The Johnsons
	The Posters