Probably Nothing, Possibly Everything

by Pat The Bunny

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Free downloads at archive.org/details/patthebunny-probablynothingpossiblyeverything

My predictions of what we would be allowed this time were all surpassed by the crowd around me, who were blessed with the inexperience necessary to push beyond the limits of what was possible. So-called “knowledge” becomes a liability when one context is mistaken for another. The same series of motions that wins someone a boxing match will lose them a knife fight.

I was mistaken that night. I thought we were on a different field playing a different game. The truth is I don't know the world I act within well enough to justify a moment of certainty. Of course I deceive myself into many such moments, because the scale of chaos that swirls around me is beyond comprehension. But if you ask me the point of undertaking the small acts of resistance I find within my reach, I must admit:

“Probably nothing, but possibly everything.”

And those are the best odds I can expect to play if I am in the
habit of believing in troubling things like freedom. I might never
know the results of what we do, but I have trouble thinking they
could be worse than if we had done nothing at all.

credits

released December 18, 2014

Recorded by Paul Roessler at Kitten Robots Studios in Los Angeles, CA. Thanks to Paul Boutin for use of his guitar. Artwork by Adam Bucholz.

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Pat The Bunny Tucson, Arizona

Retired acoustic punk. 100% of Bandcamp profit is donated to not-for-profit groups. MAY '17 BENEFITS: Free Software Foundation (fsf.org). PAST BENFITS: Chogyam Trungpa Chronicles, J20 Legal Defense, OpenSSL, Debian Project,
Tor Project, Letsencrypt, No More Deaths, Serenity House Drug/Alcohol Treatment.
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Track Name: I'm going home
I was stupid enough to throw my life away on music, like it was that simple. But if singing changed anything, they'd make it illegal. I hate strangers, loud noises, and crowds. I'll play a show every night. And would you, and would you believe there are people who come to me for advice? I'm driving fast as the car can go, because I'm going home. I was desperate enough for the feeling of pushing back to jump into the streets. The cops have us all surrounded; hear them gnashing their teeth. Ready now, bail down the alley when we hit the next light. And would you, and would you believe there are people who ask me how to fight? I'm running fast as these legs can go, and I'm going home. Five years ago I was broken enough to just shut the fuck up. I got sober by going to rehab, and not arguing so much for once. Punk rockers ask me how I did it, hoping for an easier way. And would you, and would you believe that they don't like what I have to say? I pray as much as an atheist can, and then I walk home. I'm driving fast as the car can go, because I'm going home.
Track Name: The hand you reach out is empty, as mine is
And for once, the whole truth was clear: everything's new and there's no turning back. So I'll seek no comfort, and shelter no fear. Where they plant orchards, I'll reap barren land. Egalitarians with empty hands: is it justice to split up the dust? We are damned and we'll never earn bread, so we shall steal everything that we must. Show me peace and I'll run from that hell. I'll head up the mountain, and never come back. Show me utopia--I'll call it a jail. We'll pick up the pieces to snap them in half. We're egalitarians with empty hands. Is it justice, dividing the sand? We are damned, and we'll never earn trust, and so we'll betray everything that we can. And so we'll betray everything that we can. And so we'll betray everything that we must.
Track Name: I'm not a good person
I'm not a good person. Ask anyone who knows me. I'm mean and bitter and a failure at everything that I say I believe. I'm not a good person. Ask anyone who loves me. I never write, I never call, I never think about anyone at all. I'm not a good person, no matter what I do. My exhaustion will consume me and I'm too tired for the truth. I'm not a good person. I'm sure you're not surprised. It must be pouring out my sweat glands, it must be someplace in my eyes. I don't know why I am this way. It's been like this since I can remember. I try to keep up with everything I know I should do, but then I fall to pieces anyway. I don't know why I am the way. I'm not a good person, not even to you. I'm staying home because I can't stand the sound of another heartbeat in the room. I'm not a good person. Fuck it, you know it's true. I'm lazy, I'm a coward, I'm asleep all day in my room. I don't know why I am this way. It's been like this since I can remember. I try to keep up with everything I know I should do, but then I fall to pieces anyway. I don't know why I am the way.
Track Name: We were young once
It was back in community college, it must have been a writing class, and he said something about how we need the cops to protect us. And I snapped. "Protect us," like the night when you got kidnapped by the pigs. They tore up the house on their way out, so when Scott got home he'd worry you got taken by somebody worse. I played the show that night, although my blood was fire in my mouth, until he walked into the room--still free, at least for now. And we were young once, and sang songs about not giving a fuck, acting like we had some guts. Well, how about now? It was at a show someplace. Really, it could have been almost anywhere. Someone kept yelling to stop playing politics, because no one care's. And it's a game, like the time the U.S. marshals came for you before the sun was up. Guns drawn for breakfast. "Open up this door before we kick it down." And we were young once, and sang songs about not giving a fuck, acting like we had some guts. Well, how about now? And we were young once, and sang songs about not giving a fuck, acting like we had some guts. Well, how about now? How about now? How about now?

The chorus is largely stolen from the song "Bad jokes" by rap-folk-punk songwriting genius Ceschi. http://ceschi.bandcamp.com
Track Name: Run from what's comfortable
I woke up thinking: God is real, but against us. Pray for what you don't want. Reverse theology. I'll pray for freedom, because no matter how much I say I want it, I'm still getting led around by a cigarette or anger or fear. Take your pick, I don't give a shit. And I wish it weren't true, but to get free we have to start with what's true I think. And if I have to tell you that what's real is terrible, maybe you're in the wrong place. If I have to tell you that what's true is terrible, maybe you're in the wrong place. Because I've done horrible things to wonderful people. I've let horrible people stay living. I've looked my family in the eye and told them: "Leave me to die, or I'll make you sorry you didn't." I've stolen from people who didn't deserve. I've not helped people who did. I've turned away when I knew I made a mistake instead of dealing with it. I've wasted good chances I've had in this life that other people won't even get. I put off making things right with Andy, and now he's dead. But if we can stay one inch this side of dying, the most terrible things we can imagine can happen, and our breath will carry us forward when we don't have the strength to carry ourselves. And we'll get another chance at not spreading misery, at least for today. If I have to tell you that we are beautiful, maybe you're in the right place. If I ever forget that we are beautiful, I hope you're here to remind me. If I have to tell you that we are beautiful, I hope you'll stick around until you can see it.
Track Name: Take me by the hand and lead me through this disaster
Malcolm X never lived to see the government fall, but the state he opposed made him a stamp. Maybe that's the best you can hope for if you never give up: your enemies will teach your corpse to dance. And you and me, buddy, we've been living for a ghost when we ain't been sticking our heads in the sand, so when I'm afraid take me by the hand and show the world that we can't be planned. It's alright, it's okay, it's just that everything's fucked. It's alright, it's okay, it's just that everything's fucked. Catch me smashing my own windows when I'm feeling nuts. It's alright, it's okay, it's just that everything's fucked. I've been lying on the ground, alone and unwashed, without enough courage to brush my teeth. I'm afraid of the red that will pour out my gums and bleed me to death in my sleep. I've been staying inside with the curtains down, ignoring what phone calls I get, so when I come out take me by the hand and show the world a fight it won't forget.
Track Name: Make total destroy
I'm growing old in rooms full of kids with unruly hair cuts, taking what comfort we can in the fact that every empire's days are numbered...man. But I don't think that I can count that high. I should have paid better attention in school or something, because I feel like there's something that I don't know and if I could just jam it into my skull, I could stand to live somehow. But I don't know. The fact is I'm 2.7 decades into a growing ambivalence. I could count on no hands how many fucks I'm giving. Or is it a million? Are "god" and "void" equivalent? Are we making total destroy, or just making a living? And I know that Rome wasn't burnt in a day, but it couldn't have been more than a week. And I know that the children of barbarians become the new tax collectors and priests. So I don't know. I suppose we've been rolling since the world was round, and time makes dust of what we can't tear down. And I suppose dead bodies make soil of the ground. But what about what we do now? I'm growng old in rooms full of kids with unruly hair cuts, taking what comfort we can in the fact that every empire's days are numbered...man. But I don't think that I can count that high.

One mythological explanation of the origin of the phrase "Make Total Destroy," taken from a random internet source: "Here’s the way I remember hearing the story, I don’t know if it’s true per se, and I don’t suppose it much matters. There was an anti-IMF consulta in DC, and representatives from all over the world were discussing what actions their communities would take locally. Person by person, they detailed comprehensive plans for direct actions, balancing risks and possible rewards, the various statements they would be making, the composition of coalitions, etc. These kinds of meetings can stretch on and on, and are often filled with all sorts of bullshit posturing and rarefied code words. In short, they can be insufferable. The discussion finally gets around to a Greek anarchist group. The Greeks are internationally known for being especially militant (and awesome). Their spokesman addresses the assembly and says simply, 'We will make total destroy.' Everyone looks incredulous and confused. The Greek spokesman, fearing he has miscommunicated, excuses himself to confer with his group. He speaks with them in hurried Greek, and the rest of the assembly seems relieved that there will be further explanation. After the short clarification, the spokesman turns to the room again and says, 'Yes, we will make total destroy.'" (https://destructural.wordpress.com/2010/10/30/make-total-explain/)
Track Name: We don't get tired, we get even
We're up all night dreaming. We aren't alive as long as there's a prison guard still breathing, so we're up all night scheming. We don't get tired, we get even. I can't sleep anyway. Wolves haunt my living room, and keep me up all night howling at the moon. I'd still be on the outside of the world we dream of building, but that could never change. Any four walls are a prison to me. We're up all night dreaming. We aren't alive as long as there's a prison guard still breathing, so we're up all night scheming. We don't get tired, we get even. We might right together until we reach freedom. We might ride till we reach justice, then I'll get out alone, and walk till all the world is dust. I'll still be on the outside of the community we're building, but that could never change. Any society is prison to me. So I'm up all night dreaming. I'm not alive as long as there's a prison guard that's breathing, so I'm up all night scheming. I don't get tired, I get even. We don't get tired, we get even.
Track Name: The club hits of today will be the show tunes of tomorrow (cover)
I don't work for justice. If it did exist, I wouldn't be walking down the street to where you live. My house is chaos and all of my money's gone, but I've never been the type to grab something and hold on. I don't work for justice. I don't give a shit. I'm just trying to walk on down the street to where I live. My life is chaos and all of my friends are gone, but I've never been the type to keep in touch with anyone.

Ramshackle Glory cover. No rights reserved. This song is from the album "Who are your friends gonna be?"
Track Name: A glorious shipwreck
I spent my life drifting to things that fall apart as soon as it gets hard. We live without leaders, but now there's nobody to steer. Captains go down with the ship, my friend, but there's no captains here. There's no petition we can sign to end poverty, or to make "no" a word with teeth. I know there's not enough windows on this planet to break us free, but maybe one will be just enough for some dignity. Just do the dirt and walk away and don't say shit. My momma didn't raise no snitch. If anybody asks, well then I've never heard your name. No rest for the wicked till we've crossed the state. And common decency may drag us through a prison cell, basic goodness take us to hell, but since we'll all return to dirt let's bring some stories for the worms. We don't know when, but the days will come again when their courts can't hold us in. We'll stand our ground no matter how many police appear. Captains go down with the ship, my friend, and we're all captains here. And just for a moment, we were all captains then.