I Believe It’ll Bring a Lot of Good Thoughts — To Your Heart

Bob Ross remixed by Symphony of Science’s John Boswell, aka melodysheep, for PBS Digital Studios.


RIP Ray Bradbury, The Illustrious Man



“The things that you do should be things that you love. And things that you love should be things that you do.”Ray Douglas Bradbury, (1920 – 2012)

Every child is a scientist. – Neil deGrasse Tyson

RIP Maurice Sendak, The King of all Wild Things

We’ve educated children to think that spontaneity is inappropriate. Children are willing to expose themselves to experiences. We aren’t. Grownups always say they protect their children, but they’re really protecting themselves. Besides, you can’t protect children. They know everything.” – Maurice Sendak


For Creatives (that’s everyone): Words of Wisdom and Inspiration

Kurt Vonnegut recites his 8 tips for writing a great story

  1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
  2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
  3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
  4. Every sentence must do one of two things: reveal character or advance the action.
  5. Start as close to the end as possible.
  6. Be a sadist.
  7. Write to please just one person.
  8. Give your readers as much information as possible, as soon as possible.

Waves of Grain


“Waves of Grain” by Two Gallants

Pray betray the deceased,
Such an infamous freedom, such a militant peace.
How dare they distrust, do they know who we are?
And your progeny’s brave,
Their tract houses waiting, pre-plucked and pre-paved.
To the ends of the Earth: wife, kids and a car.

But oh no, no, I see them falling.
Let’s all pray for rain. Let’s all pray for rain.
And all your children are reared, by panic and fear.
But what when all your fields are rotten?
Your waves of grain. Amber waves of grain.
And your word is yet done, inbreed us ’til we’re all the same.

And your collection of tongues,
You keep framed in your parlour, with your bibles and guns.
The fetus of Christ, with a fistful of scars.
And your vision is clear,
While you blind your own kind in a curtain of fear.
Your words twisted skywards, distracted by stars.

But oh, no, no, the sky is falling.
Let’s all pray for rain. Let’s all pray for rain.
And you pour out your prayers, and weep ’cause you care.
But what when all your fields are rotten?
Your waves of grain. Amber waves of grain.
And you hide the dead while my friends head to die in your name!

“And this playground is yours”,
Spoke God, when you met behind closed doors.
Gesture your hand and the pawns shall subside.
And though you play alone,
You never get lonely, you never get bored.
Who needs a friend when God’s on your side?

But oh, no, no, I see them falling.
Let’s all pray for rain. Let’s all pray for rain.
And even I can’t pretend, we’re not near the end.
But what when all your fields are rotten?
Your waves of grain. Amber waves of grain.
When your days are done, I hope you’ve had fun with your game.

And you accepted as fact:
Behold a white horse, with you on its back.
A bow in your hand, a crown through your hair.
And the oceans shall rise!
And slap on the shores of mountainsides.
Great waves of progress shall wet the air.

But oh, no, no, the sky is falling.
Let’s all pray for rain. Let’s all pray for rain.
And you fools in the back, with your heads in your hats:
What when all your fields are rotten?
Your waves of grain. Amber waves of grain.
And my words won’t be done! They’ll never be done ’till the end!

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