RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Monday, April 4

SONG OF THE DAY: Funky Virginia

This is a song about Virginia being funky, by a band or dude called Sir Guy, and this should be the official state song. Of course, “official” anything as determined by the state requires a bunch of mostly white people, mostly men, to hash it out in Richmond while wearing suits, and none of them get falafel from Aladdin’s, like ever, and most all of them are assholes because why would you be a politician if you weren’t? But even beyond that, the boundaries of a map are a fuckin’ lie too, and just because of this, and the inherent regionalistic pride that comes with a fucking map, if you rocked this song at a party just across the border in like Roxboro, unloungers would be tempted to complain. That’s the problem with the way our society is structured – politics is made by unloungers, and those philosophies become encoded as law, which means all the legal shit we have to navigate around to enjoy our lives, to the fullest extent possible. So then regular folks have that shit trickle down into their brain, because news talks about that dumb shit all the time, and cops enforce that stupid shit, and the notions of legal states just poison a regular person’s fucking brain. So then regular folks, even amongst true loungers, trying to have a good time, might be gathered hypothetically in Roxboro, which is North Carolina, but just barely across the border, and hear an old ass jam like “Funky Virginia”, and somebody might be tempted to talk down on it. That’s why the Power of Lounge is more important than ever before, because technology has enabled unloungers to just run rampant, in the opposite of wild, but coordinated engineered bullshit. One must practice the Power of Lounge as much as possible to combat all this unlounge. And today, I do that by playing “Funky Virginia” on the yard speakers, pointed down towards the river, 69 times in a row, while the clankyjangers spin and I sit there spray painting more railroad spikes, because I got a fresh batch out the 5-gallon bucket of Coke yesterday, that had been sitting on the porch, “conditioning” for a month or so.

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