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Lonn Friend's Breath of Fire: Here Comes The Sun

By Lonn Friend, Senior Contributor
Sunday, December 2, 2001 @ 2:10 PM

Rock N' Roll Guru Lonn Friend'

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Preface: I wrote this two weeks ago in Las Vegas, shortly after having lunch with a dear friend who walks the hallowed halls of The Fab Four's tower in Hollywood. The breaths could now be counted, there were that few remaining. I feel this morning like I have to get something out there, quickly, to assist in my own way with George's crossing. So accept this unedited, unproofed forward of that original rough draft with arms of wide open spirit. And I will return soon with a proper eulogy. Please, play George for your kids today.

What Sun?

Larry King has representatives from several major religions on his show tonight. Disparate paths to the same destination, one that seems today further down the tunnel than ever. "All of us have equal capacity for evil," says the Rabbi. "If we let the extremist run with the football, they'll take down the goal posts." Larry asks why in every war, God has been on both sides. No one responds directly to the question. They are all too admittedly confused about all this, a precarious state when your tribes have billed you as the ones who're supposed to have the answers.

The evil doers are waving their cocks in our faces. It's disgusting, unacceptable, disrespectful, unconscious, unreligious and inhuman. Battlefield Earth. "Christ is the way to salvation," says the Minister. Well, yes, but is that the longhaired Hebrew carpenter from the Galilee or the longhaired British Beatle from Liverpool? "It's not the goal of Christ to try and throw people into Hell," quips the Minister. "There's violence in the Koran." The Rabbi quotes from the Muslim book where extremism is illustrated. Larry says the Old Testament gets pretty dicey. Who's right? Who's wrong? Who cares?

Pundits and pew peddlers can dissect the words and invent their own rhetoric to appease their parishioners. It's time to eradicate the evil doers who morph so effortlessly from human beings into human bombs. Watching the images from Jerusalem inspire all the same emotions that ravaged us from spiritual stem to stern on September 11th. No need for the laundry list. You'd all nail this pop quiz. It's good and evil wrestling at the brink. It's George Harrison and Osama bin Laden, in the zone, on fire, hot, rockin', equally tasked by their respective deity. What a show. Gladiator was bimbos with water balloons compared to this.

Here comes the sun. Can you see it? It's bright, orange and it will scorch to cinders all it touches. Sun, Sun, Sun, here it comes. Beware its' fire; it will consume you. The elevator goes down to a spot where the heat is always on. But wait, this is the Sun. The source. It's been a long cold lonely winter. What's all this high Fahrenheit blather? Here comes the sun to shed light on the darkness. To rip open the blinds and wake us up! Sun, Sun, Sun, here it comes!

"When you compare the Islamic view of salvation to the Christian view of salvation, the roads part," observes the religious analyst. "Why can't we have just one belief in a supreme being?" the eight times divorced Larry K asks. We are so lost. Spiritual soundbites from the Methusla of modern media. All the prophets died for our sins, cause we're all sinners. Every one of us. Don't sit there and lie to your self, your SELF. Fess up! Now! Before it's too late! All you need is love. What a beautiful solo in that one, huh? Be aware of your thoughts, actions, breathing. Evil cannot exit in a vacuum. Remove the soil of hate, greed and inflexibility and those dark dirty seeds cannot grow. Sun or no sun.

"If God makes peace, then it's not man making peace. He has lost his freedom of choice. It's not man anymore and anytime man gets in a pickle, he calls God. How does that improve man?" the Rabbi took the stage. The Taliban were an isolated community, says Larry. The Muslim agrees. Penthouse executives who step over the rank and file on their way to narcissistic glory are an isolated community. Child molesters are an isolated community. Rock n' roll fans are an isolated community. "Better one hour in this world than all other hours in the next world." Eternal beings are an isolated community. Salvation is subjective. Oi vey, what a mishagass!

"We need to find the faith to come together," all the cloths agree. Come together. Right now. Over me. Short but very sweet guitar solo in that one.

* * *

I don't want Fred Durst to tell me 'what's going on?' 'cause he hasn't a clue. And the evil doers who perpetuate his myth of importance from a pedestal of corporate greed and arrogance, to Hell with them, too. To Hell. It's 5am in Miami Beach. I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink. The blue moon is knocking me senseless. I am knocking me senseless. I blame not the Taliban, for their fate is self imposed. Extinction. Smoldering, definitive death of the beards, the bodies and the poisoned ideology. I blame not the cancer that took the Beatle. He sang, he preached the word in song and deed, he reaped, and now he departs in an effort to save us. From ourselves.

I blame not Arafat, for his time has also come. He is so much sand now on the desert. The next wind, and his black corrupted soul is blown away. I blame not the culture in which this incarnation called 'me' dwells, for it, too, is sand. I blame not myself for harboring fear, judgment and doubt. I blame not the Universe for it simply is.

We are exactly where we're supposed to be, hard as that may be to understand. Every ill, every putrid gesture, every hateful thought, every greedy motive, every unconscious action...it's all being reflected back at us, stilettos to the collective heart. We're exposed. You better run for your life if you can. Hide your head in the sand. Go ahead. Try. Won't work.

In the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make. Perfect balance achieved as civilization sucks in one, final, penultimate breath. Does it stop on the inhale or the exhale? I've always wondered. Guess we'll find out soon enough. How divine the solo at the end of that psalm.

Lonn Friend
On Respirator

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