The phrase “20 year effort unravels in days” has been going through my head. The happenings in Afghanistan steered my body to the news stand at the library and redefined my day as I looked at the “pictures Joe Biden didn’t want to see”. With the writings about events abroad, my focus veered off and I found myself thinking of My friend Posko, and a song we made years ago.

Whats actually happening in our world/universe and the words about it are worlds apart. Sung, written spoken, the words are a power beyond the meaning of the language and Truth lends them the power not the other way around.

The news took from me my focus, the immediate and individual experience put under the daycap of the newspaper, and bold, italic decorations. My awareness seemed to be draw away and into the world of news titles and written form.

The photos spoke volumes, the words ran through my head. Here’s a song we made 10 years ago, War and Afghanistan, the turmoil of the soldiers minds, and the ongoing conflict of pride, power and well being. The news from yesterday and the internal perceptions of cosmic power dynamics for humans on earth. Years ago it was relevant when Todd Rungren performed it, war is always arising as the imbalances of earth erupt someplace. We, Po and I, covered Johnee (Johnny) Jingo, Posko adding a verse. I produced the recording with vocalizations and a piece of wood. There is almost no instruments in the song, tamborine, ride, a kick drum, layered vocals, claps and a little synth back on the bass vocal if I remember correctly. Make bread not bombs, peace to the world.

“Johnee (Johnny) Jingo”

He was just fifteen, he was a new trainee
He lied about it for the opportunity
To defend the border his life was sworn
Though not a generation was native born

Johnny Jingo
Johnny Jingo

He had lost the battle but won the war
When the generals said he couldn’t fight no more
He was proud and bitter at what he’d done
So he passed it off to his favorite son

Johnny Jingo

Johnny Jingo
Jingo don’t you fight for me
Jingo don’t you speak for me

To the man who owns the land
We’re all the same
But when his grip begins to slip
Then he’ll be calling out your name
Johnny Jingo

And the throne, the pulpit, and the politician
Create a thirst for power in the common man
It’s a taste for blood passed off as bravery
Or just patriotism hiding bigotry

Uncle Sam had a son, not Johnny no Jingo
Son of Sam, Faught, Armies and People
choose Johnny to see those dead bodies
and free those not ready
to Afghanistan by me

we kill young, we kill old
but cant understand why we
have burned flags by these emergencies
but johnny was good man
but he lost jingoist prophet so woman hold your head and cry

Onward.