Helstinki Jail 8/7/85

NAIL - a travelogue and guided tour
concept at work: OPPRESSION

Half a man as a shadow of his former self...it ain't very pretty what a little less  liberty can do to your self esteem.
Take out the spirit, give it forty lashes, a cuppa cold java, and a stale cracker.
Slap its wrist with a hammer, slam it back inna slammer.
Sometimes/alla time/everywhere I look/a coupla dozen places I don't is the throne of agony.
Cos it's me doin' the looking.
And it's nagging me.
An it sure as hell gets me down.
So you alter your consciousness, (you're on the throne of agony and you wanna get out of it), try and alter your consciousness.
I pick myself up offa da floor and crawl my way to the front door (bolted from the outside again).
And feel rotten to the core.
One bad apple in a barrel of shit.
Tear out your throat trying to tear out that hideous self-imposed cancer of oppression.
Throw another bottle on the fire.
Throttle up the mire, this liar's for hire.
Tear out your heart.
And remind yourself THE TWO MOST DESTRUCTIVE EMOTIONS ARE FEAR AND GUILT. 
THE TWO MOST DESTRUCTIVE EMOTIONS ARE FEAR AND GUILT. 
So I wear the crown of "THE EVIL KNIEVEL OF BETHLEHEM" with sin scrawled all over my face, trapped in an early earthly ALKATRAZ (And all that jazz)...so what?
But what if your roar ain't a roar no more and all that comes out is a squeak?
LIBERTÉ, FRATERNITÉ, ÉGALITÉ: DEAD, DUMB AND BLIND Head Held High*sledgehammer to the soul *sludge to the skull GOD MY HEAD HURTS.
Too much thinking and not enough braincells.
PASS ME ANOTHER NAIL

PIGSWILL:    You can take the ham outa the man but not the BONER.
                      You can take the ham outa the man but not the PIG.
                      You can take the will from a man but not the SWILL.
                      And if you take the PIG outa the MAN you sure as hell are gonna be stuck with the PORK.
                      And a stuck pig.
                      PIGS WILL FLY. BIRDS GOTTA FLY. FISH GOTTA FRY.
SO...this dynamic duo of psycho-dirt tour the west coast, see?
Sure, they's fuckin and-a killin looseboys and poisongirls, leavin em in shallow callous graves.
NO REMORSE. NO FEAR. NO GUILT.
Two bad assed hell raisin hobo bozo dudes on one helluva bender.
Wadda way to make a livin.
Booze and butts and hotrods and death and PHEW WEE, MAMA!
Then sleepy bear beckons.
Turn on the TV, the shower, wash off some of that dirt and blood and fresh kiddymeat stink.
Drop a coupla valiums.
But for PIGSWILL -well, the thrills is kinda cheap but mebbe...not...enough.
She looks so peaceful lyin there, all curled up like a cute little kitten.
DESTROY ALL GIRLS.
Hack Hack Hacketty Hack, buddy, Hack it!
A thousand year sleep she won't forget.
So leave a bloody autograph-shit, she was on the rag!-and run a trademark up the flagpole.
Hell yeah! Alright!
There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight (like to the tune of 100,000 volts, man!).
There's no lights on the Christmas tree, mama, they're burnin PIGSWILL tonight (sniff...hmm...makin bacon?).
Thus endeth Pigswill's terror rain/reign of oppression.
PHEW-WEE!
PASS ME ANOTHER NAIL.

Oppression is the opium of the people.
Somebody up there thinks so anyhow.
There must be some kinda romance in being dumb.
Why, everyone's doing it.
Prints and mugshots, needles and pins.
A happy man is a man that grins.
Say cheese?
Fat chance.
Pills and needles, needles and pills, the condemned man eats a hearty gruel.
The media comprehensively catalogues his demise.
Sick men one and all.
TOIN DA TABLES FERCHRISSAKES!
I wonder what time it is?
PASS ME ANOTHER NAIL.

I'm gonna implode.
Descension downdowndown on a one way trip.
Bosch looks like a beach party round here wallowing like a beached shark in hell-lay.
One heckuva town , mama!
Sun shines bright thru the smog and fuzz of HILLBILLY-HOOOOOOOO.
Hell-belly-hoodoo-hood.
That's Hollywood!
Four score and ten years ago (I'll have you know) someone died and left me with a legacy to shake off.
And I'm shakin like an eskimo chihuahua...to no avail.
It's enough to make a bulldog break his chain.
It's enough to drive a man to drink.
An god knows all you do here is drive.
The plastic upholstery, the dash, the furry dice become your environment.
The two headed dogs bobs its head in the back, eyes ablaze in disapproving hellfire every time you brake.
And you brake a lot round here.
The suspense sure ain't killin me, but I wish it would.
The expressions are pathetic, the excuses are poor.
Every crevice filled with shiny new disease, malaise, or vermin.
Have a nice day-see you in court-eat lead, mother-get offa ma grass or I'll bust yo ass.
Bugs're attracted to flashing light.
Barflys, Fireflys, Roaches.
And they die every fucking night and fuck in the dying night.
Straight and narrow wrinkle roads and winkle pickers, barbed wire tumbleweeds and "let's hit Tijuana, let's hit Vegas, let's beat ourselves to death."
Am I oppressing myself or has L.A. taken over the task?
It isn't very pretty what a city without pity can do.
Descend...
PASS ME ANOTHER NAIL.

SO...enter the exterminator...
I live in a concentration camp.
Black smoke belches from the chimneys of the huge crematoriums.
Tangled corpses clog mass graves.
The final act of those who die in the gas chamber in involuntary defecation.
The dead are in a pile in the corner of the room, the weak and sick and old crushed to the bottom of the pile; the strong claw their way to the top for their final gasps of life.
Faces sickenly distorted.
The spectacle of mounds of SPECTACLES, false teeth, wrenched gold teeth.
MOUNDS.
And rigor mortis claws in death grips clutching the last vestiges of their entire existence in the form of once treasured heirlooms, baubles and trinkets.
(Break those fingers open.)
Lambs to the slaughter.
Muslims herded head first for extinction.
Man's in humanity to man and woman and SIC 'EM BWAH! LET EM HAVE IT! GIVE EM BOTH BARRELS?
Fill up the hole, mac.
No hope. No comfort. No pity.
Just iron scrap, a shred of skin (a nice new lampshade), a bitten fingernail, a stale moldy crust of bread, a hank of hair.
A bar of soap.
        And public outcry for the death penalty roars.
        Cops use clubs and stunguns to enforce the law.
        The troops're comin over the hill...the nation's forced to swallow its bitterest pill.
        Reagan's laying wreaths on SS graves. Viva Union Carbide.
        Bring back conscription if all else fails.
        Tear down tenements and put up jails.
        Turn the screw until it bleeds, then turn it again.
Soul cannibals of the genocide, I'll Meet You In Poland, Baby.
I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier.
I feel sick.
PASS ME ANOTHER NAIL.

The telephone number of the Spahn Ranch was DI-1-9026.
Creepy Crawl.
Everyone thinks he's the new Charlie.
Shit or get off the pot.
Pills and needles, needles and pills.
A happy man is a man that kills.
Neo jailboids detained at the leisure and pleasure of a lumbering dinosaural bureaucracy.
A week-or is it a month?-languishing in a dead air cell bathed in the stink of years of sweat and scum and shit and piss.
The toilet won't flush.
I could use a shave and a bath.
I wish the neighboring junkie would stop banging his head on his cell door.
JUSTICE AND VENGEANCE-TRIAL BY KNIFE.
I need a drink.
I feel sick.
I wonder what time it is?
PASS ME ANOTHER NAIL.

Welcome to PIGDOM COME!
"...as a Soldier of the Cross I find it necessary to keep in touch with the headquarters from time to time..."
WELL...when the tower of babel is aflame and on the wane, you pack up your ivory towers in your old kit bag and cry cry cry cry cry...
You escape this early earthly Alkatraz already. (You're on the throne of agony and you want to get out of it.)
Make a withdrawal from this earthly deposit!
Plot your plot now! (Why kill time...)
One foot in the womb one foot in the tomb with (thalidomide) arms (too short to box with god...).
("life is shit and then you die").
Welcome to PIGDOM COME
When the role is called up yonder, when I buy a ticket to visit my ancestors, I'll be halfway to pigdom come.
PIGDOM COME!
Garden of processed delights!
Procession of perfumed gardens (sometimes your best friend won't tell you...).
Disney Schmaltz Pretention Production as COD HEAVEN (there must be a cod in heaven-just follow the yellow brick road).
Tack Exotica!
Knights in shining armor just CLANKIN for a joust with their maker.
Dueling for the monument to bad taste and insult.
Bang on a drum til PIGDOM COME-an see if I care...
Peace through Superior Firepower or escape thru the Father Superior.
But that end of our life is RETRIBUTION, my melancholy baby.
(I'll try anything once).
The inscription on my tombstone reads "Wish You Were Here".
I died every night for a thousand years.
I met my maker and I don't like what I see-my reflection staring back at me.
(KILL ME, BABY-or pass me another NAIL).

RETRIBUTION
CATHARSIS
In a thousand years who'll know the difference?
You live outside the law...you die outside the law.
JUSTICE AND VENGEANCE-TRIAL BY KNIFE.
Get outa the closet and into the fray...rattle them shackles.
Après moi...la deluge.
No one's leaving me a legacy to shake off cos I CAN DO ANY GODDAMN THING I WANT.
        You tell the truth you go to the guillotine.
        Lose you head, lose your mind but your conscience is clean.
        Don't buy into no one else's dream.
        SAY WHAT YOU MEAN AND SAY IT MEAN.
        So you pack your lungs fulla nicotine.
        An pack a coupla bottles of gasoline.
        SAY WHAT YOU MEAN AND SAY IT MEAN.
And when the role is called up yonder I'll be halfway to PIGDOM COME.
People who live in assholes shouldn't throw stones.
People who act as dicks must expect to be treated as such.
SUFFOCATE or VEGETATE or ANNIHILATE or DECIMATE.
BRING ON THE HEAVY ARTILLERY.
I CAN DO ANY GODDAMN THING I WANT.
ANYTHING!
POWER!

Written by Clint Ruin - Scraping Foetus Off The Wheel