Two days ago I printed off all the Cher tweets I've missed since April. One hundred and sixty six (166) pages of them. Jesus! I've got a tomb of tweets to decipher this week. Avoiding this, I perused the latest of Cher's twitter photos…people are sending Cher their tattoes of her name on their persons. And she very kindly comments that it's a great honor. And unless someone supports a tatt-sleve that also contains the names of Cher Lloyd and Snooki, I think it is.
If you have a Cher tatt, you know what you need to do.
Anyway, I've only made it through about 40 pages so far and some very funny tweets….lots of interesting things going on. But she also expresses lots of frustration about the U.S. political clusterf*ck and the crisis it poses for the country.
One of my big frustrations is hearing from people from all over the country who can’t or refuse to escape their narcicism and selfish thinking. It's an ideological blindness and a spiritual looting of America in the name of God.
I'm now reading some Spanish poets…I love their poems, so full of blood, guts and melodrama. This prose poem reminded me in general of Cher's tweets, which I had just stopped reading to pick up some Spanish poems:
Walking
For some time now there have been two worlds or ways for man to walk, behind history or catching up with it: propping up crippled ideas, laying down new foundations on which to set life up.
And I saw the world as a sea churning with people, hanging on to one another as they went down; and the world just risen among broken tombs and inscriptions that lied.
I went out to the countryside and saw the sun drinking the blood of millions of people who had been sacrifieced brutally; and I followed the road I found crowded with footsteps that moved along calmly, sure of what was ahead of them.
Blas de Otero (1916 – 1933)
I tweeted Cher asking when her 70s Warner albums would make it to CD….don’t think she ever posted it or responded.