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greggb

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About greggb

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    http://www.greggboethin.com

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    John Day, Oregon
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  1. greggb

    Thoughts on Offensive Lyrics

    A little tack-on to my last reply. I've written and recorded a number of songs many people find offensive. I've used expletives in a number of songs as well. So I'm not saying that every song should be all "prim and proper". I just think there's a tasteful way of being offensive, and a not-so-tasteful way as well. I'm all for offensive lyrics, as long as they're tastefully offensive. Songs discussing nothing but sex and violence aren't tasteful to me; they're animalistic.
  2. greggb

    Thoughts on Offensive Lyrics

    It's important to remember that morality varies from culture to culture. There are few (if any) universally held moral values, and many of our moral values are contradictory to each other. For example, here in the US it's considered immoral to kill someone, for any reason. It would be considered immoral for a parent of a school shooting victim to avenge their child by killing the shooter. Yet our greatest held heroes are people who kill other people in the interest of "national security". We give medals to people in the armed services for killing other people. I'm in no way criticizing our military, or suggesting it stops killing other people. I'm just pointing out the fact that our morals are taught to us, by the cultures we live in. The average homo sapien can be taught that almost anything is "right", or anything is "wrong"; it all depends on the culture. Expletives are cultural as well. Take an f-bomb. If you replace the first letter of the word with the letter 'd', you're referring to a bird with webbed feet that quacks. It's okay to say the word 'duck'. And it's okay to say the word 'truck', or 'muck', or 'stuck', and so on. You can say any word ending with 'uck', as long as it doesn't start with an 'f'. And why? Because someone said so, a long time ago. Someone said, "here's a word you're not supposed to say", and everyone just snapped into line and agreed that we shouldn't say a certain word rhyming with 'duck' or 'truck'. The problem I have with violence in music is that it typically takes the place of any actual substance. I'd say the same thing about sex. It's easy to draw someone's interest by talking about sex or violence; those are things humans respond to at the primal level. It's much more difficult to draw someone's attention with something meaningful and not so animalistic. IMO, the high majority of artists who routinely sing about sex and violence do so because they have no real talent. If they had real talent they'd be using it to create songs with substance. Think about it...we humans like to believe we're superior to other animals, and then you hear these songs centered around animalistic tendencies like sex and violence. It doesn't really convince me that these artists (and the people who enjoy their music) are any better than animals. Chimpanzees enjoy sex, don't they? And aren't they prone to violence? So what's different between a chimpanzee and someone who fills album after album talking about the things chimpanzees do? Our ability to create and appreciate music (and all art) is one of the only things separating us from animals. It's for this reason I believe it shouldn't be used for the purpose of glorifying our animalistic tendencies. Just my opinion.
  3. One of my early songs I finally got around to re-recording. Hope you're all doing well. When We Meet Again Words and Music by Gregg Boethin Copyright 2011, All Rights Reserved Oh how the sequins sparkle, in the image of your face. And how the blueness of your eyes, floods the nearby space. You're gone from me, but I can see you just as though you're here. An apparition I can freely summon to appear... Don't think I'll make it long, I've tried my best but it's too strong. It's coming any day, the course is set, it's on its way. I know you're out there and the chances are I'll see you somewhere. I'll tell you everything, when we meet, when we meet again. Oh how the storm grows stronger, with the mere thought of your name. The pressing wind, the ceaseless thunder, and the barely-missing rain. You're far from me but I can sense you somewhere in the room. A poltergeist who haunts me every morning, night and noon. Don't think I'll make it long, I've tried my best but it's too strong. It's coming any day, the course is set, it's on its way. I know you're out there and the chances are I'll see you somewhere. I'll tell you everything, when we meet, when we meet again.
  4. I've had the melody to this song in my head for years now, and I finally came up with some lyrics for it. Hope you're all doing well. The Vast Nothing Words and Music by Gregg Boethin Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved From the vast nothing it came, ending the void and aptly given its name. Then the moons, planets and the stars, faithfully time ticked by for a while, and somehow here we are. From the vast nothing it arose, order and chaos, yin and yang I suppose. So creation would come to be, the infinite canvas where beautifully painted here are you and me. One spherical stone, third from the center. One fraction of space, stretching forever. One sentient being soaking up sunshine. One click of the clock we call a lifetime. From the vast nothing it appeared, heaven and earth and the reason for everything here. There’s a plan working if you’ll see, we’re neither here nor there but instead all part of eternity.
  5. BTW, it's available as free MP3 download the link at my RN page, if you like it. There's a link to it in my signature.
  6. I've sure been slow at writing and recording songs as of late, but here's a new one. Hope everyone is doing well. The Beauty the Bullfrogs Bring Words and Music by Gregg Boethin Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved Oh what a beauty the bullfrogs bring every night, at the last daylight, when the stars roll into view. What a beauty the bullfrogs bring every night, when the sky is bright, and I’m here next to you. Oh what a beauty the bullfrogs bring every time, the sun slips behind those western Hills. Oh what a beauty the bullfrogs bring every time, the shy moon climbs, and I’m here next to you. Cold weather’s on the way, soon we’ll wave goodbye to these pleasant days. But softly we’ll still hear them sing, They’ll echo on as memories. Oh what a beauty the bullfrogs bring every night, as I hold you tight, then the stars begin to fade. What a beauty the bullfrogs bring every night, till the morning light, when I’ll be there with you.
  7. Hey all. I haven't stopped by here for a while. I thought I'd offer everyone my best wishes for the holidays, and share the first song I've recorded now in over 10 months. I hope you're all doing well! Take care, Gregg
  8. I want you to know something. I want you to know that you're beautiful, because you are. It's been a long time since I met someone I might describe as beautiful. But I would, without any doubt, describe you as beautiful. "Beautiful" isn't a word I toss around. Beauty is a rare thing. But you're the possessor of such a rare thing. You're beautiful, and I want you to know that. Because you deserve to know that. You're beautiful on a bad day. You're beautiful on the worst of possible days. You're beautiful in all my days. And I just wanted you to know.
  9. My first in over two months...hope you're all doing well. About You Words and Music by Gregg Boethin Copyright 2017, All Rights Reserved Got some poignant words just burning inside me, and a melody that’s needing to be, there’s a song coming out and I think it will be about you. It’s nine in the night and the sky is still blue, in my mind there I am on a wobbly stool, ten feet away, head down thinking about you. But you don’t ever listen to my songs, if you did you’d know that I was talking about you all along. There’s a powerful force in and out of my chest, in the place of my heart, that’d be by my best guest. Stronger and stronger, the longer I think about you. Down a road so clearly going your way, still I’d take a seat by you and hand-surf down the freeway. There are poignant words now there on the paper, and a melody with passionate flavor. This song is now done, and I wrote it all about you.
  10. Hey all. With the possibility of nuclear war drawing near once again, I thought I'd post my song "Smoke Swirls", which is about nuclear war, and make it available for anyone to cover/record etc. Feel free to make any mods to it. It would be kind of cool if it'd you let me know if you do end up using it. Thanks! Gregg SMOKE SWIRLS Words and Music by Gregg Boethin Copyright 2011, All Rights Reserved Smoke swirls and scattered light, the sun will soon be out of sight, and it's not coming back again. We'll see our brightest day, until the final flashes fade, then the darkness will begin. Smoke swirls and the terrors they tell, the letters that spell our painful and permanent end. Smoke swirls, now the horsemen are here, the prophecy's clear, we won't see the daylight again. With no fear for their own, and every comfort from their throwns, they send those armies on their way. They hideout high on hills, and by their orders blood is spilled, at a price the world will pay. Smoke swirls and the terrors they tell, the letters that spell our painful and permanent end. Smoke swirls, now the horsemen are here, the prophecy's clear, we won't see the daylight again. Smoke swirls and the terrors they tell, the letters that spell our painful and permanent end. Smoke swirls, now the horsemen are here, the prophecy's clear, we won't see the daylight, we won't see the daylight, we won't see the daylight again.
  11. Life is a dream, it really is. Life is a dream, it's your dream. Life is your dream. Treat life as if it's your dream. Live life as if it's your dream. Because life is a dream, it's your dream. by Gregg Boethin.
  12. I hope it's okay for me to share some philosophical thoughts here... I want you to imagine something. I want you to imagine that immediately after waking up tomorrow morning, a supernatural being appears to you. Imagine that there's a flash of light, then a cloud of smoke, followed by the appearance of this unearthly creature. Your response would be one of awe, and more than likely fear. Because this isn't something that's ever happened to you before. And as far as you know, things like this don't happen. But I want you to imagine that this is actually happening to you, right now. Imagine that the being looks at you, and says, "I've come to share with you one essential truth". It pauses, then after a few seconds continues, saying, "You are living in a simulation." And then, before you can ask it any questions, it fades away. You're now left questioning your experience, and of course the first question you have is, was it real? Because you've heard stories about other people hallucinating, and even though it's never happened to you, you know that you're just as capable of hallucinating as anyone else. But I want you to imagine a kind of knowing, or intuition you have, that everything that just happened was real. Nobody else would believe you if you told them, but you were there, and you know what you saw and heard, and you know that what you saw and heard was 100% real. And now you're left with the knowledge that you're living in a simulation, though you're alone in that knowledge. And now you must live out the rest of your days aware of the fact that you exist in a virtual world. And how does that make you feel? Imagine, once again, knowing you're living a simulation, surrounded by an entire world full of people who don't. One of your feelings would probably be that of loneliness, because the knowledge you have would make you very different from other people. Your knowledge would completely change your perspective on life. It would alter your beliefs and values, and all the things that are important to you. But how else would this knowledge affect you? How would finding out that your existence is synthetic, or virtual, change the way you live your life? What I'm going to show you is that in answering this question--in running this thought experiment--we can learn a lot about our lives and our existences here, in a world that is a simulation, for practical purposes...or maybe even for real. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Before I get into the actual thought experiment, which is going to be the examination of life in simulated reality, I want to talk about some of the modern theories and ideas regarding "simulated reality". The Movie "The Matrix" comes to mind when most people think of simulated reality. Indeed The Matrix paints a very thought-provoking picture of what life might be like in a simulated reality. But philosophers have been alluding to the possibility of simulated realities for millenia now, going even further back than Socrates. Before the age of computers we liked to wonder if life was a dream, and how we can be sure it's not. The short answer is that there's no way of knowing, one good argument being the fact that we're not aware we're dreaming, when we actually are. In the same way we're fooled by our dream states we could be fooled by our non-dream state, which perhaps is another dream state we haven't woken up from yet? What modern computers have done to this age-old question is provide a very plausible means with which our world could be simulated. The idea that life is a dream seems pretty absurd, or fantastical at best. But most of us have seen computer simulations. Granted, no modern computer simulation comes close in complexity to the universe we live in, but that doesn't mean anything. Computer technology is rapidly increasing. Quantum computers are in existence now (though quantum computing is still in its infancy). But when you consider the many wonders human ingenuity has been responsible for, it's not at all inconceivable that computers may be able to facilitate a simulation as complex as the world we live in. We should further not make the mistake of assuming the sort of "master world" in which our world might be created in, in a computer simulation, is anything like the simulation in which we exist. This would be analogous to ants inside of an ant-farm looking out and assuming the entire world outside is made of dirt. We can't even begin to imagine what wonders might exist in the so-called "master world". Is it possible we're living in a simulation? Yes, it's possible. It's 100% possible. Some scientists will even tell you that it's likely. But when it comes down to it, there's no way of knowing. If we're living in a simulation, everything pertaining to our existence would be created by that simulation. Any evidence proving we live in a simulation would have to be simulated, and therefore not admissible in court. Though my purpose isn't to discuss the plausibility, or likelihood of simulated reality. Simulated reality has been philosophically and scientifically proven to be a possibility. This has to be accepted. However, to suggest that we live in a simulated reality, or don't live in a simulated reality, is nothing more than speculation. Though, there is a fair amount of evidence suggesting we're living in a simulation. So what if we are actually living in a simulation? How should that change the way we live our lives? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I want to take you back to the original thought experiment, where you've just learned that you're living inside of a simulation. You now have the burden of carrying this knowledge as you continue your life in a simulated world, surrounded by people oblivious to the fact they are also simulated. So, you open the simulated door to your simulated bedroom, and make your way down the simulated hallway to the simulated kitchen, where you pour yourself a bowl of simulated cereal. You sink your simulated spoon into your simulated cereal and scoop a bite into your simulated mouth. And you think... You compare your experience to that of yesterday morning's, before you knew you were living in a simulation. You realize that aside from the disturbing thoughts in your head, nothing's different. Your reality hasn't changed. Nothing is any less real, as far as your senses are concerned. And that makes you wonder, what is real? What does the word "real" mean? You try to imagine what life would be like in a "real" world. You wonder what would be different about life in a real world. And you don't come up with any definite answers. But still, you're very bothered by the fact that you're living in a simulation. Sure, everything about it seems real, as far as you're concerned. But then you're not real, so why should your opinion matter? So why are you so bothered by the fact that you're part of a simulation? Because you find nothing cool about the notion of living in a simulation. It makes you feel very unspecial. After all, you're nothing more than 1s and 0s, or some futuristic equivalent to a collection of bits. How does the current image of yourself, as a collection of bits, compare to the image you had of yourself yesterday? For that matter, what was the image you had of yourself yesterday? How did you see yourself yesterday, before you learned you were part of a simulation? Think really hard about the way you saw yourself yesterday. Now if you're religious, you might have seen yourself as a child of God, or creation of some other deity. Your having learned that you're merely part of a simulation might have brought your world crashing down, if you choose to believe that now you're nothing more than computer data. Or, you might consider the possibility that whichever deity you believed in exists within the simulation, thus preventing your religious crisis. If you take the more atheist approach to life, you saw yourself as little more than a collection of molecules yesterday. Today you're seeing yourself as a collection of bits. That shouldn't be too difficult of a transition to make, especially if you choose to look at atoms, and sub-atomic particles as bits of information. Though, one question we haven't addressed yet is the purpose of the simulation. In the movie "The Matrix" the simulation was created by machines, who were committing a crime against the human race even more vile than slavery. The simulation was in place to exploit humans in the worst way possible, and we have a problem with that. In reality there are many reasons an intelligent species might want to create a simulation, and the majority of those aren't so sinister. Bear in mind, any theories as to the motives for creating a simulation, like the one we might be living in, are pure speculation. One theory suggests we're part of a scientific experiment, where the creators observe life throughout the universe, to better understand life in general. Another interesting theory suggests this is all a game, where contestants from the master world enter to experience life and to compete amongst themselves. You could go on and on with the theories explaining why a simulation like the world we live in might have been created, but again, that's all speculation. Though it is important to recognize that whatever purpose is behind the simulation we live in, if we live in a simulation, is likely not sinister, and is very unlikely a situation of machines exploiting our bodies to produce energy. It's also important to consider that, unlike The Matrix, our actual bodies and brains wouldn't need to be "plugged into" a simulated reality. The more probable and accepted theory is that the entire universe we live in is a simulated reality. The laws of Physics and Quantum Mechanics are part of the programming creating the world we live in. We exist as entities of some sort, entirely within the simulation. Once you eliminate the Hollywood elements from The Matrix, including the need to be plugged into the simulated reality, and the machines farming humans for energy, you don't have much of a movie. Why? Because there's no way to unplug yourself from The Matrix, and there's no real good reason to either. You exist entirely within The Matrix, the way that we exist entirely within the universe. If not for The Matrix you wouldn't exist at all, so you'd be thankful for The Matrix, if your life wasn't too awfully rotten. If we're living in a simulated reality, it's very likely that it would be the only place we exist. Even if you believe we have souls, you must recognize that the thinking part of us, which creates the part of our consciousness referred to as "I", is created completely within the physical world. Meaning that even if your soul were to continue to exist after your body perished, the "I" most likely wouldn't. Again, a reason to be thankful for the simulated reality you live in, if you live in a simulated reality. Without it, you wouldn't exist at all. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So what we see when examining the possibility that we're living in a simulation is that, at the fundamental level, it doesn't really matter. It doesn't make us any less special. It doesn't make the experience any less real. God could still exist within a simulation. The simulation is essentially the medium for the universe. Without it, there would be no universe. And with no universe, none of us would exist. Again, a good be reason to be thankful for the simulated reality you live in, if you live in a simulated reality. Though there are a couple things we haven't talked about yet. Regard for others and acceptance of temporality, and ability to recognize the world as a matrix and control your mind.
  13. Well hello my special sunshine eagle, fancy meeting you above the clouds. Where you like to soar, and often ignore, the carnage below you. How are you, my special sunshine eagle? How lucky to share with you this height, where we can both see, true reality, if only tonight... And if I might break each rule and circumvent all reason. I could spend a day you with you and be... Under your influence, my special sunshine eagle, yes it seems you know me way too well, my special sunshine eagle. And why such a silly name? you ask as if you fell of the turnip truck. The turnip truck that took a turn too quickly. You lost your balance, and landed in my life. And yes, I'm talking to you, you flesh and blood woman. You temptress of the most worthy kind. You add such a flavor to life that without you, I wouldn't feel the urge to sit down, and devour it at all. You flesh and blood woman. As if there is any other kind. As if there'd be a reason, this side of Hell, to make any other kind. As if a flesh and blood woman isn't enough for all of eternity. And so I go on, my special sunshine eagle, to those darker places you shall never see, my special sunshine eagle. And thankful you should be, that you should not descend with me and see the shadow cast by our eternity my special sunshine eagle. And how you like to hear me. play with words, and sometimes wonder if you do deserve, my love for you, and you do, my special sunshine eagle, it's obvious in the way that I look at you, and a million other ways, my special sunshine eagle.
  14. Another spoken word... If I could see you, I wouldn't be writing. I'd be kissing you, and God knows what might happen from there. God knows, and you know, and I know, and I guess we're all clairvoyant in our ability to predict what would happen if you and I were in the same room, and no one was around, or within hearing distance, and there was no place either of us had to be. And why not? Because God knows I've missed you. God knows, and I know, and you know and pretty much everyone who could possibly know knows how much I've missed you. I miss you for obvious reasons. I miss you because it's been a long time. How long, I can't remember. And I miss you because there's no one like you, as far as I'm concerned. In the context of this writing, that's as far as we need be concerned. But that's not as far as we'll go:) If I could see you, I'd so not be writing. I'd so not be doing anything but looking at your eyes. Not in them, quite yet. At them for now. Wondering if you got them from your mother. And whose child you are? Not that it matters, though it really does. If I could see you, I'd be looking in your eyes from a very short distance. A distance without any room for error. Which of course is every distance. Though this is the one I prefer. And you see, it's not just that I can see you that much better. I can smell you that much better as well. And here in a while, I'll be able to taste you that much better too. Here in a while, like four seconds, like four in the five-foot-four you are, which I happen to find rather perfect in terms of the distance you protrude up from the ground (give or take four inches, either direction, and please don't say, "that's what she said") And now that we've gotten all that behind us; all that preliminary nonsense; all that cutesy bs; let's talk about what would happen if I could see you. If I could see you, I probably couldn't see you at all because I'd be so close to you. But that's okay, because I'd be able to feel you, and you me, the weight of my body on top of you, the way that you like it. And from there, there probably wouldn't be a lot of seeing going on, at least not that I could remember or you for that matter. So, without much seeing going on, as we've established, if I were on top of you and kissing you, there wouldn't be much need to go on in a poem, or spoken word piece titled "If I could see you." So now you're free to go!
  15. Another experiment with stream of consciousness and spoken word. Count the reasons, yes I can, count them all on one left hand, I can count them all the way to zero. Sometimes it's the absence, of what I can't be sure, causing me to wonder if I'm knocking on the right door. If I'm standing on the right street, and more, if I'm in the proper universe. A bad reason would be welcome at this point. Because even that contains reason, if only a couple of nano unit's worth. If I were being honest, I'd tell you straight-up, that now a nervous pic is all I see. Complete and utter stranger, one most clearly feminine, staring in an odd and troubling way. And room to room the drone moves, streaming back the footage of life as we have known it until now. Existence in this Wild-West hotel. Exiled to a backward time, where we must spend each day, and know our lives, our real lives, only by our dreams at night. Sometimes we return; but rarely we remember. Only during poker games, and drunken barroom brawls, do bits and pieces occupy our minds. Remind us of a future time. A world imbued with color, without those static lines, whatever they're worth... And now the chainless door, and waiting on the other side, a scene that seems to have quite high potential. Many plants, growing high, poster seedlings of that more pure era. And even when that pseudo-canine called on by his instincts; gratuitously coded in his brain. Even then does he obey, expels the air in rhythmic bursts and adds his heart and soul throughout the day. And the footsteps from above, the never-rhythmic thuds, the always soulful, artist-filled expression, of ordinary life. Just another day. Another vastly different day, a lost and faceless uncle of the others. Jump a line ahead, skip a couple rounds, and notice what you'll smell there, rising from the ground. The grass, so freshly cut, is greener. Ah, the worn-out proverb. And the fumes from the mower, still linger. Gasoline, or what remains. But still a lovely sight. You could see yourself there every night. Sipping whiskey and water, or any drink you please. Knowing you can sleep it off, to a soothing breeze, in the doubtful case that you have too many. In the more likely event that your life goes to Hell, because it's just a hop away, and some evil looking kid is right behind you, armed with a shocker, ready to plant it right where you sit. And your eyes water even at the thought of the pain you will feel right behind your eyes. Right there in your front cerebral cortex. Oh, the pain in your brain, coming from the strain, and the refusal of that automatic creature to restrain herself. To refrain from her OCD-like behavior. And then the storm moves in, but it's a living one! It's a break in the boredom! It's a drug for your senses. And alas you'll be happy when it's gone. And it will be, here before too long. And your life will go on, if that's what you should call it. So minimize the window, put the laptop down, toss the covers off, turn yourself around, and reach. Reach for your precious. Put your hands on your precious, but be careful with it. Bring your precious to your chest, and wave goodbye to me. Bye bye, you say, gesticulating sadly. Bye bye, I say, annunciating gladly. Perhaps you think my precious is preciouser than yours? I don't think so. I think the problem is you haven't put your precious to your lips yet. Do that. and feel your precious reach its full potential. Go on, and do that. And let's be done with this tired topic: of your precious, and mine. Both of them are fine. The only other thing that requires discussion at this very moment, is the blind. That thing whose soul purpose is to shelter me, keep me from the sunshine. Not that I would smoke or flame, if a photon hit me; not that it would cause me any pain, the sunshine, that is. My fear is that a ray might light upon the words I write, and have a more vampire-like effect, causing them great fright, making them take flight, and leave the piece I'm writing an absolute wreck. So, I'd appreciate it if you'd pull the blind. And straighten out the edges there, so some wise ray of sunshine isn't tempted to sneak in. And thank you, I appreciate that. And I must let you go, and you must me too, let me go that is, but don't forget your precious!
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