101 Damnations - No.1

1)Advertising. :P

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November 08
- Dido - White Flag
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- Green Day - Are We The Waiting
- 30 Seconds To Mars - The Saviour
- Funeral For A Friend - Out Of Reach
- Stone Sour - Through The Glass
- The Zutons - You've Got A Friend In Me
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- The Offspring - You're Gonna Go Far Kid

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I'm In A Very Philosophical Mood

So I thought I'd pop on here and have a little talk...

The trouble is, nothing exciting ever happens in the life of Ben. No heartbreak, No angst, No anything. Just me going about my day to day thing, so recently I've been taking a very philosophical view on life.

Walking down the street, just looking at all the faces, smiling, down, bored. In a hundred years they won't be there and I won't be there either. I'm not sure what happens after death, but I don't believe that there's any pearly gates or some old man telling you to have another go as a frog or a paradise with several hundred virgins. It doesn't seem plausible, but then there's nothing and quite frankly, I'm terrified. I'm terrified of losing all my family and friends to mother nature and father time. I'm terrified that there is no point to any single persons life. I'm terrified that when I die, my life won't be remembered by everybody...

I'm not emo, but I'm beginning to think life is a curse.

Just dwell on this for a moment. What if there is nothing? What is the point in your life, really? This ambiguity is murdering me, and I really hope you have some thoughts about it too...

Ben Morris, Signing out...


Sticato

You tore my heart...
You tore my heart...
You tore my heart...
Apart...

A dash of medicinal value,
For the trouble you've caused?
Your path laden with lies,
An ongoing drama never to be paused,
You lit up the skies,
On a blurry night,
Now if the darkness comes,
You're nowhere in sight...

You / tore / my / heart / apart / though / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato / ,
You / tore / my / heart / apart / though / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato / ,
What / makes / you / turn / ,
To / the / way / you / always / do / ?
You / tore / my / heart / apart / Oh! / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato.

A light is on,
And the cigarettes are lit,
While you down pints in joyous meditation,
I drown sorrows in alcoholic shit,
You're constipating me,
You're bringing me down,
But with a face like that,
You'll make anyone play the clown...

You / tore / my / heart / apart / though / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato / ,
You / tore / my / heart / apart / though / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato / ,
What / makes / you / turn / ,
To / the / way / you / always / do / ?
You / tore / my / heart / apart / Oh! / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato.

Your teething problems,
Negotiated by your lawyer of course,
Do you want everything that's mine?
What a stupid question directed at such a bitter force,
Go on, knock me down,
And while I try and get up,
Rub my face in my heart that was ripped out years before,
And let me sink to the bottom of this cup...

You / tore / my / heart / apart / though / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato / ,
You / tore / my / heart / apart / though / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato / ,
What / makes / you / turn / ,
To / the / way / you / always / do / ?
You / tore / my / heart / apart / Oh! / ,
It / was / as / sharp / as / this / sticato.

You tore my heart apart – oh...
This is last time you'll hear me sing about you, you know?

I See A Whitehouse And I Want To Paint It Black...

The historic moment when Barack Obama is announced as the President of The United States of America was indeed, his time, and certainly America's time to shine. The fact that George Bush was elected twice on the trot and then Obama is elected shows somewhat of a lesson learnt by the American public. This historic moment is one of very few in a dark American history that America will be able to look back on, and think that they were there. They were there the day America gained common sense. One brilliant moment in time. Congratulations Barack Obama. The things that amused me running up to the election were the dedicated republicans who seemed certain that Obama was a baby killer, the streaker on GMTV earlier today, And the pictures that show McCain and what looks like a heart attack. Oh, how the American's can still amuse me...

And a um... backword? O.o That being November the 5th cannot not be mentioned (Yes, double negative silly)being Bonfire Night and all. So, all I want to say is be safe, and sparkle a sparkler for me...

Ben Morris, signing off...

I Don't Know A Single DJ Saint

Is it too hard,
To speak the eloquent English language,
Do you find it annoying,
If you can't speak the tounge without anguish?
So, shut your mouth,
And use your pate,
You're not getting anywhere with 'blud'
And I don't know a single DJ saint...

First of all I'm not "your man",
I don't want to walk down the street and hold your hand,
Don't say so in your little rap band,
Unless you're actually up to rolling around with me in the sand...

Secondly, I'm don't remember being anyone's "blud",
I mean for one, it's impossible that I could,
Genetically transfer myself into you, not that I would,
I'd never like to be infected by all that weed and bud.

Is it too hard,
To speak the eloquent English language,
Do you find it annoying,
If you can't speak the tounge without anguish?
So, shut your mouth,
And use your pate,
You're not getting anywhere with 'blud'
And I don't know a single DJ saint...

WIth your alchopops, techno and R&B,
You've got loads of 'menz' for company,
But while I may have a career in dentistry,
You're on the doll, with a £10 fee.

I'd like to see your trackie bottoms and top,
Be any use apart for sporting activities like a ten mile jog,
Have you heard of jeans? So, sure it'll be harder when you go to the bog,
But you're less likley to have a potential popularity drop.

Is it too hard,
To speak the eloquent English language,
Do you find it annoying,
If you can't speak the tounge without anguish?
So, shut your mouth,
And use your pate,
You're not getting anywhere with 'blud'
And I don't know a single DJ saint...

You say I'm being cheeky,
But if you look bleakly,
Into the past completley,
The number of you that have started on me,
Couldn't fill the American sea,
Mainly due to your lack of reproductive means,
And that's why we have a crisis of hepatitus b,
So shut your mouth and go listen to your MP3.

Is it too hard,
To speak the eloquent English language,
Do you find it annoying,
If you can't speak the tounge without anguish?
So, shut your mouth,
And use your pate,
You're not getting anywhere with 'blud'
And I don't know a single DJ saint...

Hannah. I Think She's A Bit Dead...

So, I went to the Kill Hannah gig at The Carling Academy in Birmingham yesterday, and in short it was epic. The coincidence that my friend that I used to go running with and that I love dearly (for a friend) was going really gave me some hype. Certainly more than the actual gig itself, because if you can find a better, more amazing and more beautiful thing than meeting up with old friends I'll give you my laptop. With three support acts and a lot of moshers, it was probably one of the best gigs I've been too, although the one band 'Gundogs' appeared to sell it more with sex than song. The band may as well have come out butt naked, and almost ironically, that is how it finished, with Matt, the lead singer of Kill Hannah in his boxers jumping up and down on the stage. But unlike many bloggers, I don't want to dwell on Matt and his orgasmic vocals. People talk about the highlight of the day, and for me that was just being there with friends I see regularly and haven't seen in what seems aeons. Oh, how much I missed them, but I will end unfortunately, because it was an absolutely amazing night on a a negative note. I ask you to keep in your head (or your prayers if you're religious. Personally, I am not.) the thoughts of one woman and child that were separated on the night, that they met again afterwards. But, overall, an epic, epic night.

Ben Morris, Signing off...


Kudos

“Look in the mirror,
Can you see what you've become?
I can't bear to look at you,
Even though you're my only son,
Lost from the path,
I've paved out for you,
Walk that path son,
And you aint got a clue...”

I've never belonged to a family,
Where everyone is better off than me,
I've always had one hell of a happy life,
And I assume the daisies I tread on are full of strife.

Kudos to those,
Who's lives have been constantly crap,
But haven't tried to hide in bubble wrap,
Kudos to those,
Who's avid complex lives,
Haven't been ended with tilted steak knifes,
Kudos to those,
Who've grown up through a horrid family,
That still think 'there are people worse than me',
Kudos to those,
Who haven't got enough,
But don't steal or plead or justify that stuff...

For the dead and buried,
And the lost and lonesome,
Another song about betrayal?
About death by oestrogen?
Not for those that hold this city high,
With expectations they can fulfil,
They can reach the sky,
They will climb the improbable hill.

You are the reason for belief in life,
You are the light that knocks the darkened plight,
You are the hope for a nation today,
You are the dream that will never go away.

Kudos to those,
Who's lives have been constantly crap,
But haven't tried to hide in bubble wrap,
Kudos to those,
Who's avid complex lives,
Haven't been ended with tilted steak knifes,
Kudos to those,
Who've grown up through a horrid family,
That still think there are people worse than me,
Kudos to those,
Who haven't got enough,
But don't steal or plead or justify that stuff...

Pave your own path son,
And by the time you're done,
You'll be smiling finally,
As the bombs drop silently,
In a house close to you...

A Blog? What A N00b! It's All About Myspace 'N' Shiz... Right?

Wrong. Unlike social networking sites, you can actually talk about yourself freely here. I intend to make you think about a lot of things in IC, so be prepared if you follow, although it's not all serious. I have a variety of things I'd like to talk about, and at the end of many posts I'll put a song, or rather some lyrics I've written. When I do so, I want you to read them and ponder. Does it relate to you? Is it just comical? Because what one person sees as funny, another person sees as serious. For example, where you are now; right now, put your hands up. Now lie down on the floor and put your hands up again. Did you put your hands above your head, or did you place them towards the ceiling? In two days time I will be talking about the Kill Hannah gig. I hope to see some responses.

Ben Morris, Signing off...

The Halloween and Paedophile Day Song

Halloween,

Nothing to me it means,

Just a bunch of ugly kids only ever seen,

On the day they're allowed to make people scream...

Ghosts and ghouls,

And badly dressed fools,

A hat and a cape from ASDA,

If you don't give them,

Lots of sweets,

They'll blow up your shiny new Mazda.

Trick or treat,

Egged house or sweets,

The day you're allowed to run riot,

So knock on the door,

Ask for some more,

And hope you don't get kidnapped tonight...

I'll sit and home,

Listening to rock,

Whilst they come up to the door,

And they knock,

The greedy assholes,

Want some sweets to eat,

They don't understand,

That's the trick not the treat,

Betcha ten quid,

That in the next morning,

The teeth will have rotted,

And they'll be in mourning

Trick or treat,

Egged house or sweets,

The day you're allowed to run riot,

So knock on the door,

Ask for some more,

And hope you don't get kidnapped tonight...

Feed me or die,

Feed me or die,

Feed me or die,

Or die...

Trick or treat,

Egged house or sweets,

The day you're allowed to run riot,

So knock on the door,

Ask for some more,

And hope you don't get kidnapped tonight...

Kiddy fiddlers,

Wait for the knock and you'd suspect,

That by the time they open the door,

Their penis is erect,

Just hoping to God,

That it's a single child,

Instead of huddled in a group,

And if so they'll be beguiled...

Trick or treat,

Egged house or sweets,

The day you're allowed to run riot,

So knock on the door,

Ask for some more,

And hope you don't get kidnapped tonight...

It's a happy, happy day,

For paedophiles,

It's a happy, happy day,

For them,

Master And Slave,

It's already set up,

Bring them inside,

It's a little gem...

Trick or treat,

Egged house or sweets,

The day you're allowed to run riot,

So knock on the door,

Ask for some more,

And hope you don't get kidnapped tonight...

Trick or treat,

Egged house or sweets,

The day you're allowed to run riot,

So knock on the door,

Ask for some more,

And hope you don't get kidnapped tonight...

Such a happy, happy, happy, happy day...

For the Paedophiles...

YEAH...