Karlis Sheolmeisters Complaint

Dear Karlis Sheolmeisters,

Please don't expect me to respond to your intemperately umbrageous messages. I would be grateful if you would discontinue all further attempts to communicate with me, going forward. I do not wish to have any further contact with you. Please go in peace.

Sincerely,

Barsoom Tork

From: Karlis Sheolmeisters

To: Uncle Moulton

Subject: Burnt Umbrage

[Complaint about ‘Fervor Fever’, a Schadenfreude Theatre Production]

From: Uncle Moulton

To: Karlis Sheolmeisters

Subject: Re: Burnt Umbrage

We are in receipt of your above captioned grievance and complaint regarding Fervor Fever.

We have assigned your grievance Bug No. 666 and outsourced it to the MuseNet Complaint Department, which carefully reviews and researches all grievances, complaints, and bug reports.  Once the MuseNet Complaint Department has completed its bureaucratic processes, they will recommend Best Practices for responding to it in an appropriate manner.

Please allow 5 to 7 years for the MuseNet Bureaucracy to complete its investigation and research.

Thank you for patronizing MuseNet Industries, a wholly owned subsidiary of The Orenda Project.

Sincerely yours,

Uncle Moulton

Chief Schmeggegy Scientist

The Orenda Project

Bureaucratic Apology Note  http://www.amazon.com/Knock-Nifty-Notes-Apology-Sheets/dp/B00471WKJC

Title: A Complete Unknown

Artist: Gastrin Bombesin

Composer: Bob Dylan and Barsoom Tork Associates

Once upon a time you dressed so fine

You threw the chicks a dime in your prime, didn’t you?

People'd post, say, “Beware dood, you’re way too crude”

You thought they were all kiddin’ you

You used to laugh about

Café friends who were hangin’ out

Now you don’t talk so loud

Now you don’t seem so proud

About having to be scrounging for your next dig

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be without a home

Like a Complete Unknown

Like a trolling drone?

You’ve gone to the finest school all right, mein homey

But you know you only used to get juiced in it

And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street

And now you find out you’re gonna have to get used to it

You said you’d never compromise

With the mystery tramp, but now you realize

He’s not selling any alibis

As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes

And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a Complete Unknown

Like a trolling drone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns

When they all come down and did tricks for you

You never understood that it ain’t no good

You shouldn’t let other people get your kicks for you

You used to ride on the chrome horse with your lawyer dad

Who told you showing any fear was bad

Ain’t it hard when you discover that

He really wasn’t where it’s at

After he took from you every ethic he could steal

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a Complete Unknown

Like a trolling drone?

Poised on the steeple and all the pretty people

They’re drinkin’, thinkin’ that they got it made

Exchanging all kinds of foolish faults and things

But you’d better lift your impassioned schtick, you’d better pitch it quick

You used to be so amused

At the jester in rags and the language that he used

Drawn to him now, he intrigues you, you can’t refuse

When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose

You’re Unknown now, you got no secrets to conceal

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a Complete Unknown

Like a trolling drone?

CopyClef 2013 Bob Dylan and Barsoom Tork Associates.

North American Bupkis.  All songs abused.

“At North American Bupkis, we solemnly swear we are up to no good.”

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/rolling-stone