- We're just about to look at new names.
- Oh we couldn't decide which name picking agency to go with and we were torn between B. D. H. Jacksons Smith O'Flanagan and C. P. D. H. M. Gray Bonnetson Hughes but in the end they merged.
- Oh, no... What are they called now?
- Jeff's Advertising.
- Where did they get that name from?
- Bowe Ed O. M. J. Ridley Throp Morton.

[...]

- They gave us a list of names to choose from.

- This one sounds good... Perfidia! What's wrong with that? 

- It's latin for "deceitful"! How about Yolk?

- I don't think so.

- The one they thought would be best is this one! They've also done a nice job on the presentation. There it is.

- Longleys?? 

- That's right.

- We're already called Longleys!

- No... techincally you're called Longleys Bank so if you just use Longleys people should stop associating you with banks over time. 

BBC's Think The Unthinkable 

"If you really wanna go... you'll get there in the end" --Joe Strummer

People argue down the years whether punk was invented in New York or in London. Certainly there were punk rockers in New York before there were punk rockers in London. But British punk was a different animal, it was more dynamic, it was more revolutionary and the reason it was more revolutionary was because it had a strong political content, because of the situation in London in the mid 70s with the rise of the National Front and the confrontations on the street with black youth - the first generation of black youth to be born here. Who weren't gonna put their head down cause i remember this - they were going to stand and say to the Police: "We live here. This is our country." And that made British punk much more political.
And were it not for The Clash i may never have done anything political; the first thing i ever did was follow The Clash to Rock Against Racism.

Don Letts (BBC2 interview about Strummer's last concert)

This Ain't No Picnic

- Să nu te-atingi de sticla mea de Pepsi!
Aia din frigider e sticla mea de Pepsi pînă cînd se termină, moment în care aia care-i sticla ta de Pepsi devine sticla noastră de Pepsi.

- Auzi... tu ai început să citeşti din Plato's Republic?

"Our band could be your life"...

"Mister Narrator -
This is Bob Dylan to me"

Not wanting to brag about the actual highlights of the Minutemen's impact on music, i'm left to confess having never met anyone that conveys so much through so few apparently nonsensical lines.

Attending a chill jamming session. "Double Nickels on the Dime" is made up of 43 tracks who have some of the most intrigueing titles i've yet seen, such as

Theater Is The Life Of You
It's Expected I'm Gone
Do You Want New Wave Or Do You Want The Truth
Shit From An Old Notebook
Nature Without Man
Political Song For Michael Jackson To Sing
God Bows To Math
Roar Of The Masses Could Be Farts
Nothing Indeed
Untitled Song for Latin America
Jesus And Tequila
World According To Nouns

Cohesion

folks ask what kind of bass player am I. my answer is "I'm d. boon's bass player."
mike watt

The plot thickens

Keith Richards outlived Jim Fixx, the runner and health nut. The plot thickens.

You remember Jim Fixx? This human cipher used to write books on jogging. Now, what do you fucking write about jogging? "Right foot, left foot, faster, faster, oh hell, I dunno, go home, shower." Pretty much covers the jogging experience, I do believe. Then this doofus goes out and has a heart attack and dies … while jogging.

There is a God. "Right foot, left foot, hemorrhage."

Bill Hicks

Just for once?

Wouldn't you like to see a positive LSD story on the news? To hear what it's all about, perhaps? Wouldn't that be interesting?  Just for once?

"Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration – that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There's no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather."

Bill Hicks

"Harlem"

 What happens to a dream deferred? 

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

- Langston Hughes, 1951