Dada Abstentia: In Trump We Bust

Dada Trump Abstentia (by Jay Schwartz(

You crazy white girl for Africa!
You screaming banshee from Attica!
Soothing words of Seneca?
Check your mind in abstentia!

We’ve got the makings of utopia!
We’d rather build fucking dystopia!
We will not tolerate differentia!
We check our minds in abstentia!

We want a cultural Siberia!
We want to worship Wikipedia!
We want to burn encyclopedias!
We check our minds in abstentia!

We want to cultivate fantasia!
We want historical dementia!
We want to liberate our labia!
We check our minds in abstentia!

We want to castrate nymphomania!
We want to censor genitalia!
We celebrate schizophrenia!
We check our minds in abstentia!

We check our minds in abstentia!
We check our minds in abstentia!
We check our minds in abstentia!
We check our minds in abstentia!

(And the sheep say …)
Vote For Trump!
Vote For Trump!
(And the sheep say …)
Baa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-h!
(And the sheep say …)
Baa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-h!

Note: And remember kiddies, #Imwithher and #Donaldtrumpisabellend!


WATCH THE VIDEO!

‘Trump Abstentia’
Music & Lyrics by Jay Leonard Schwartz (ASCAP)
Published ELTzone Records (ASCAP)
Performed live by ‘The Transmystic Blues Sniffers’
Video produced & created by: Jay Schwartz (Dada Bloq Productions)

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The Bridge Is Still Out

Dada Bridge
Dada Bridge – (Jay Schwartz)

The bridge is still out.
The gap remains.
The water rages below, like my blood.
I graciously wait, impatiently.

Maybe, I think, I ought to save my burning gas …
but my engine won’t quit.
I wonder if I should jump this bridge to reach the other side.
Can I make it or will I fail, falling into the liquid abyss?

Did I see you wave from the other side?
So close it seems to touch you …
but so far is the uncertain distance, I worry.
My heart has a tortured mind of its own.
It tries to scratch and claw its way out of my chest.
It propels itself into my throat and I have to swallow it down to breath again.

The engine finally sputters and chokes.
Chicken shit.
I return home alone.
The bridge is still out.
The gap remains.

The Call Center for Existential Obscenities

Dada Obscenity - Jay Schwartz

You have reached the ‘Call Center for Existential Obscenities’.
Please hold.

When only the obscene can be seen, taboo fears require puritan counter-measures.
Indifference fuels the irrational and the self-absorbed.
The helpless mutates into a victim of necrotic tendencies and can no longer transmute.
– If you would like to ‘call for help’, please stay on the line. Continue reading

An Open Letter Of Thanks To Brian Wilson

Brian Wilson Reimagines GershwinA personal post:

Today I found myself flying musically … at the public library. You see, as I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve been coming here to work and go on-line. I am desperately trying to ride a creative high and meet a personal deadline to complete production of my film, Dada Venduza, against mounting financial and personal odds. The last two days found me re-creating the feel of the film for its soundtrack I’ll release on CD and here online. For some tracks, I’ve been combining, in true dada mode, a collage of music, speech and sound effects from the film. I’ve been having a blast doing so.

Anyway, back to my flying at the public library. I was listening to the album, ‘Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin’, and since I’m currently hoping to put together a musical performance of Gershwin tunes … I sort of have George and Ira’s songs on my brain. Their musical essence transcends almost any any cover you might here … and provided fuel for flight.

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Dada Venduza & Capital Controls

Jay Schwrartz, Director of Dada VenduzaIt’s not easy being an American dadaist, living in Greece. In these times of economic turmoil & crisis, I am absolutely giddy with acerbic creativity, but I have vowed to maintain my composure and remain somewhat apathetic (my emotional intelligence goal for the week). It’s important to remember, as Grouch Marx said (and I am prone to repeat often) that “denial is not just a river in Egypt.”

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Dancing On Broken Toes

Dancing On Broken Toes

 

How easily do our airy flights of fancy escape the gravity of our mundane lives.

We reach with dreams of fickle laced lightness for that which lies beyond our corporeal grasp.

The ‘what ifs’ come with practice, spring-boarding from disillusion and delusion.

We hang ourselves on a whim, a promise, a commitment … a figment of our imagination.

We dance. Our toes break.

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Mirror, Mirror Off The Wall

“I used to live in a room full of mirrors; all I could see was me. I take my spirit and I crash my mirrors, now the whole world is here for me to see.”
– Jimi Hendrix (A Room Full Of Mirrors)

 

I find it strange that mirrors don’t come with instructions. They are, in fact, one of the most dangerously brutal objects found in our homes, harboring the potential to destroy our emotional well-being with ease. They threaten our image of ourselves, and even at times warp our perceptions. And yet, there is no warning label about their misuse.

Their addictive properties offer a vise to both the vain and the masochistic. For the naive, they readily shatter precious illusions and reflect the naked distortion of our imagined perfection. Yes, mirrors are uncompromising in their function, merciless in capacity, and indignant to their facility.

Seeking the truth through the ‘looking glass’ we stare … and lie to ourselves about our reflection, reflecting our own hypocrisy or delusion.

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