Serotonin,the Alpha Crawdad and Cultural Nutrition,Malnutrition by Tony Ryals

Consider,
The top crayfish,
To its subordinate fellow crustacean,
It is mean,
Ripping open its abdomen,
With a swish,
Of its tail,
It seems to learn this behavior as well,
Getting,
First dibs on food,
And the best,
Rock crevice,
To nest in,
The alpha crawdad,
It’s bad,
It’s past winning experience,
Rather than merely genetics,
Induces,
Serotonin receptor sites to grow,
And so,
They gain neural prominence,
Further increasing the crayfish’s tail-flipping dominance,
Performance and response,
Until one day it loses,
Then serotonin receptor sites diminish,
The former alpha crayfish,
Relearns subordinance,
Serotonin,
Neurotransmitter or hormone?
Depending upon,
Not only the quantity,
Of serotonin,
But quality of receptor sites a crawdad has grown,
So, neurotransmitters don’t act alone,
Serotonin won’t enhance,
A crayfish’s aggressive response,
If receptor sites are not there to turn on,
To react upon,
If not, then that former alpha crawdad’s reign will be done,
Perhaps a survival mechanism,
To protect them,
From the new alpha crawdad’s aggression,
According to Shih-Rung Yeh,
Of Georgia State University,
Serotonin receptors of crawdads,
Are of at least two kinds,
And to both of these nerve receptors,
Serotonin binds,
But only one triggers the aggressive tail-flipping frenzies,
The other putting the crayfish at ease,
Leaving the non-alpha crayfish at peace,
Serotonin,
Neurotransmitter or hormone?
Also found in the human brain,
An eye for an eye,
A claw for a claw,
That’s what the hormone says,
When it bonds,
To the aggression-producing,
Nerve receptors,
God’s or the devil’s,
Little molecular messengers?
Serotonin,
More produced in men,
Than in women,
But perhaps,
As in the case of the crawdad,
Affecting different receptor sights,
Whose development is influenced,
Not just by sex,
But also by nutrition and experience,
Neither neuroreceptors,
Nor probably neurotransmitters,
Are replicated in a manner that’s completely,
Genetically,
Hardwired,
But instead are modified,
By the environmental,
Cultural,
Experiential,
Influences of the peripheral,
Nervous system,
Interacting with the central,
Nervous system,
Evolution of experientially evolved software,
Within the cerebral hardware,
German shepards from the same litter,
One a playful house pet,
Never a threat,
While his brother,
Or sister,
Is trained to be a killer,
One might even suspect,
Similar effects,
Caused by human experience,
Somewhat independent of genetics,
Like that between chickens and rooster,
As they learn their pecking order,
Or even the mountain gorilla,
For that matter,
Nutrition and genetics,
But then again experience,
All elicit their effects,
On the behavioral,
What might be called by some,
Cultural or experiential nutrition,
Or cultural or experiential malnutrition,
In addition,
To genetics and food nutrition,

Pancho And Lefty by Van Zandt Townes, Willie Nelson

• ·

• 4:54 Townes Van Zandt - Pancho and Lefty. Heartworn Highwayspor J. Frank Parnell 81.016 reproducciones

Artist: Van Zandt Townes
Song: Pancho And Lefty
Album: Legend

Living on the road my friend
Was gonna keep you free and clean
Now you wear your skin like iron
Your breath's as hard as kerosene
You weren't your mama's only boy
But her favorite one it seems
She began to cry when you said goodbye
And sank into your dreams

Pancho was a bandit boys
His horse was fast as polished steel
Wore his gun outside his pants
For all the honest world to feel
Pancho met his match you know
On the deserts down in Mexico
Nobody heard his dying words
That's the way it goes

All the federales say
They could have had him any day
They only let him slip away
Out of kindness I suppose

Lefty he can't sing the blues
All night long like he used to
The dust that Pancho bit down south
Ended up in Lefty's mouth
The day they laid poor Pancho low
Lefty split for Ohio
Where he got the bread to go
There ain't nobody knows

All the federales say
They could have had him any day
They only let him slip away
Out of kindness I suppose

The poets tell how Pancho fell
Lefty's livin' in a cheap hotel
The desert's quiet and Cleveland's cold
So the story ends we're told
Pancho needs your prayers it's true,
But save a few for Lefty too
He just did what he had to do
Now he's growing old

A few gray federales say
They could have had him any day
They only let him go so wrong
Out of kindness I suppose
..........

The song tells the story of a Mexican bandit named Pancho and a more enigmatic character, Lefty. The song tells of Pancho's death and implies that he was betrayed by his associate Lefty who was paid off by the Mexican federales.

Although the lyrics are not exactly reconcilable with the historic details of the life and death of the famous Mexican revolutionary Pancho Villa, Van Zandt does not rule out the idea. In an interview, he recalled, "I realize that I wrote it, but it's hard to take credit for the writing, because it came from out of the blue. It came through me and it's a real nice song, and I think, uh, I've finally found out what it's about. I've always wondered what it's about. I kinda always knew it wasn't about Pancho Villa, and then somebody told me that Pancho Villa had a buddy whose name in Spanish meant 'Lefty.' I know that's strange, huh? But in the song, my song, Pancho gets hung. 'They only let him hang around out of kindness I suppose' and the real Pancho Villa was, uh, assassinated."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxzJAF1BxP4

Wind Up by Ian Anderson , Jethro Tull

 Wind Up by Ian Anderson , Jethro Tull

When I was young and they packed me off to school
and they taught me how not to play the game.
I didn't mind if they groomed me for success
or if they said that I was just a fool.
So I left there in the morning with their God tucked underneath my arm -
their half - assed smiles and the book of rules.
And I asked this God a question and by way of firm reply
He said - I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
before I'm through, I'd like to say my prayers -
I don't believe you:
you had the whole damn thing all wrong -
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
and have all the Bishops harmonise these lines -
How do you dare to tell me that I'm my Father's son
when that was just an accident of Birth.
I'd rather look around me - compose a better song
'cos that's the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man than me
as you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
I don't believe you:
you had the whole damn thing all wrong -
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMMcQ6nPyjM&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoT-dM654tU&feature=related

Conquistador by Procol Harum

Conquistador your stallion standsin need of companyand like some angel's haloed browyou reek of purityI see your armour-plated breasthas long since lost its sheenand in your death mask facethere are no signs which can be seen
And though I hoped for something to findI could see no maze to unwind
Conquistador a vulture sitsupon your silver shieldand in your rusty scabbard nowthe sand has taken seedand though your jewel-encrusted bladehas not been plundered stillthe sea has washed across your faceand taken of its fill
And though I hoped for something to findI could see no maze to unwind
Conquistador there is no timeI must pay my respectand though I came to jeer at youI leave now with regretand as the gloom begins to fallI see there is no, only alland though you came with sword held highyou did not conquer, only die
And though I hoped for something to findI could see no maze to unwind 

Conquistador - Procol Harum : 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Cfzg3_WhLM&feature=endscreen

 

Procol Harum - "Conquistador" Edmonton : ::Symphony Orchestra (1972)





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F945LQG6fuA

Touch of Grey by Grateful Dead 

Must be getting early, clocks are running late.
Paint by number morning sky looks so phony
Dawn is breaking everywhere, light a candle, curse the glare
Draw the curtains I don't care, but it's alright
I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

I see you've got your list out, say your piece and get out
Guess I get the gist of it, but it's alright
Sorry that you feel that way.
The only thing there is to say
Every silver lining's got a touch of grey
I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

It's a lesson to me, the ables, and the bakers, and the seas
The abc's we all must face, try to win a little grace.

It's a lesson to me, the deltas and the East and the freeze
The abc's we all think of, try to heed a little love.

I know the rent is in arrears, the dog has not been fed in years
It's even worse than it appears, but it's alright

Cow is giving kerosene, kid can't read at seventeen
The words he knows are all obscene, but it's alright
I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

Shoe is on the hand that fits, there's really nothing much to it
Whistle through your teeth and spit, but it's alright

Oh well a touch of gray, kinda suits you anyway,
That was all I had to say, but it's alright
I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOaXTg3nAuY&feature=related

New Speedway Boogie by Grateful Dead

 New Speedway Boogie by Grateful Dead

Please dont dominate the rap, jack, if you've got nothing new to say.

If you please, dont back up the track this trains got to run today.

I spent a little time on the mountain, I spent a little time on the hill
I heard some say better run away, others say better stand still.

Now I don't know, but I've been told its hard to run with the weight of gold,
Other hand I have heard it said, its just as hard with the weight of lead.

Who can deny, who can deny, its not just a change in style?
One step down and another begun and I wonder how many miles.
I spent a little time on the mountain, I spent a little time on the hill
Things went down we dont understand, but I think in time we will.
Now, I dont know but I was told in the heat of the sun a man died of cold.
Keep on coming or stand and wait, with the sun so dark and the hour so late.
You cant overlook the lack, jack, of any other highway to ride.
Its got no signs or dividing lines and very few rule to guide.

I spent a little time on the mountain, I spent a little time on the hill

I saw things getting out of hand, I guess they always will.
Now I dont know but I been told
If the horse dont pull you got to carry the load.
I dont know whose backs that strong, maybe find out before too long.

One way or another, one way or another,
One way or another, this darkness got to give.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nOpJMQ3-VE&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZvyKbSGNYQ

Truckin' by Grateful Dead

Truckin' by Grateful Dead


Truckin' got my chips cashed in. Keep truckin', like the do-dah man
Together, more or less in line, just keep truckin' on.

Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street.
Chicago, New York, Detroit and it's all on the same street.
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings.

Dallas, got a soft machine; Houston, too close to New Orleans;
New York's got the ways and means; but just won't let you be.

Most of the cats that you meet on the streets speak of true love,
Most of the time they're sittin' and cryin' at home.
One of these days they know they gotta get goin'
Out of the door and down on the streets all alone.

Truckin', like the do-dah man. Once told me "You got to play your hand"
Sometimes your cards ain't worth a damn, if you don't lay'em down,

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me What a long, strange trip it's been.

What in the world ever became of sweet Jane?
She lost her sparkle, you know she isn't the same
Livin' on reds, vitamin C, and cocaine,
All a friend can say is "Ain't it a shame?"

Truckin', up to Buffalo. Been thinkin', you got to mellow slow
Takes time, you pick a place to go, and just keep truckin' on.

Sittin' and starin' out of the hotel window.
Got a tip they're gonna kick the door in again
I'd like to get some sleep before I travel,
But if you got a warrant, I guess you're gonna come in.

Busted, down on Bourbon Street, Set up, like a bowling pin.
Knocked down, it get's to wearin' thin. They just won't let you be.

You're sick of hanging around and you'd like to travel;
Get tired of traveling and you want to settle down.
I guess they can't revoke your soul for tryin',
Get out of the door and light out and look all around.

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me, What a long strange trip it's been.

Truckin', I'm a goin' home, Whoa whoa baby, back where I belong,
Back home, sit down and patch my bones, and get back truckin' home.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pafY6sZt0FE

Thick as a Brick by Jethro Tull

Really don't mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper your deafness a SHOUT.
I may make you feel but I can't make you think.
Your sperm's in the gutter your love's in the sink.
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.

And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away
in the tidal destruction the moral melee.
The elastic retreat rings the close of play
as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way.
But your new shoes are worn at the heels
and your suntan does rapidly peel
and your wise men don't know how it feels
to be thick as a brick.

And the love that I feel is so far away:
I'm a bad dream that I just had today
and you shake your head and say it's a shame.

Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
Spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.
See there! A son is born and we pronounce him fit to fight.
There are black-heads on his shoulders, and he pees himself in the night.
We'll make a man of him, put him to trade
teach him to play Monopoly and how to sing in the rain.

The Poet and the Painter casting shadows on the water
as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.
The do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other
as the failing light illuminates the mercenary's creed.
The home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling
but the master of the house is far away.
The horses stamping, their warm breath clouding
in the sharp and frosty morning of the day.
And the poet lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword.
And the youngest of the family is moving with authority.
Building castles by the sea, he dares the tardy tide to wash them all aside.

The cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river
where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea:
the builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose
and contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need.
The young men of the household have all gone into service
and are not to be expected for a year.
The innocent young master - thoughts moving ever faster -
has formed the plan to change the man he seems.
And the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword.
And the oldest of the family is moving with authority.
Coming from across the sea, he challenges the son who puts him to the run.

What do you do when the old man's gone - do you want to be him?
And your real self sings the song. Do you want to free him?
No one to help you get up steam
and the whirlpool turns you `way off-beam.

LATER.
I've come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways.
My father was a man-of-power whom everyone obeyed.
So come on all you criminals! I've got to put you straight
just like I did with my old man twenty years too late.
Your bread and water's going cold.
Your hair is too short and neat.
I'll judge you all and make damn sure that no-one judges me.

You curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone,
you meet the stares, you're unaware that your doings aren't done.
And you laugh most ruthlessly as you tell us what not to be.
But how are we supposed to see where we should run?
I see you shuffle in the courtroom with
your rings upon your fingers
and your downy little sidies
and your silver-buckle shoes.
Playing at the hard case,
you follow the example of the comic-paper idol
who lets you bend the rules.

So!
Come on ye childhood heroes!
Won't you rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super crooks
and show us all the way.
Well! Make your will and testament.
Won't you? Join your local government.
We'll have Superman for president
let Robin save the day.

You put your bet on number one and it comes up every time.
The other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line.
And so you finally ask yourself just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars.
And you wonder who to call on.
So! Where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you though?
They're all resting down in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BV-ASc0qkrM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3CPqcZGLsmU&feature=related


Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson interviewed in 1972.:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsMYOO_lZeo&feature=related

'Jesus save me' : 'Hymn 43 by Jethro Tull

"Hymn 43"

Oh father high in heaven -- smile down upon your son
whose busy with his money games -- his women and his gun.
Oh Jesus save me!
And the unsung Western hero killed an Indian or three
and made his name in Hollywood
to set the white man free.
Oh Jesus save me!
If Jesus saves -- well, He'd better save Himself
from the gory glory seekers who use His name in death.
Oh Jesus save me!
I saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon --
His cross was rather bloody --
He could hardly roll His stone.
Oh Jesus save me!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amhUURR6y2o&feature=related

My God by Jethro Tull

People -- what have you done --
locked Him in His golden cage.
Made Him bend to your religion --
Him resurrected from the grave.
He is the god of nothing --
if that's all that you can see.
You are the god of everything --
He's inside you and me.
So lean upon Him gently
and don't call on Him to save you
from your social graces
and the sins you used to waive.
The bloody Church of England --
in chains of history --
requests your earthly presence at
the vicarage for tea.
And the graven image you-know-who - Catholic --
with His plastic crucifix --
he's got him fixed --
confuses me as to who and where and why --
as to how he gets his kicks.
Confessing to the endless sin --
the endless whining sounds.
You'll be praying till next Thursday to
all the gods that you can count.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh0woT7NkKI

Chopping Down The Trees For Jesus by Peter Rowan

Chopping Down The Trees For Jesus by Peter Rowan

Played once by the New Riders of the Purple Sage with Peter Rowan in 2007.

Chopping down the trees for Jesus
Chopping down the trees for Jesus
We'll be here till hell freezes
Chopping down the trees for Jesus

We're chopping down the trees for Jesus
Chopping down the trees for Jesus
We'll be here till hell freezes
Chopping down the trees for Jesus

Compassionate conservatives, chopping down the trees
Compassionate conservatives, chopping down the trees
We want all that we can get, we'll try to keep we get
Compassionate conservatives, chopping down the trees

We are chopping down the trees for Jesus
We are chopping down the trees for Jesus
We're chopping down the trees as pretty as you please
We're chopping down the trees for Jesus

We rule the world, we're chopping down the trees
We rule the world, we're chopping down the trees
Some creatures are extinct, it can happen in a wink
Chopping down the trees for Jesus

Chopping down the trees for Jesus
Chopping down the trees for Jesus
Chopping down the trees as dirtyty as you please
We're chopping down the trees for Jesus

Chopping down the trees for Jesus
Chopping down the trees for Jesus
We'll be here till hell freezes
Chopping down the trees for Jesus

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaoM1c0SSlU

Midnight Moonlight by Peter Rowan

Midnight Moonlight

If you ever feel lonesome, and your down in San Antone,Beg, steal, or borrow two nickels or a dime, and call me on thephone.I'll meet you at Alamo mission, and we can say our prayers,The Holy Ghost and the Virgin Mother will heal us as we kneel there.
In the moonlight, in the midnight, in the moonlight, midnightmoonlight.
If you ever feel sorrow for the deeds you have done,With no hope for tomorrow in the setting of the sun.And the ocean is howling of things that might have been,And that last good morning sunrise will be the brightest you've everseen.
In the moonlight, in the midnight, in the moonlight, midnightmoonlight.
If you ever feel sorrow for the deeds you have done,With no hope for tomorrow in the setting of the sun.And the ocean is howling of things that might have been,And that last good morning sunrise will be the brightest you've everseen.
In the moonlight, in the midnight, in the moonlight, midnightmoonlight

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLnDWc8APGg&feature=related

The Free Mexican Air Force by Peter Rowan

In the Morelos mountains campesinos are planting their fieldsWhere the ghost of Zapata flies a ship that can still outrun the windThere, free in the sky, and clear out of sight...It's the Free Alien Air Force, flying tonight!
In the city of angels, a Man-In-Black's cooling his heelsJust waiting for orders from Uncle Sam's spooks in the fieldBut it's much farther south where those little green men take to flightAnd then the, Mexican Air Force,Scrambles up on an inter-cept course,But the Free Alien Air Force is flying too high!
Flying so hi-i-igh...i-yi-yi-yi-yi!
Old Uncle Sam's cover-up-lies hide these alien trendsThey might kill you if they think you've got alien friendsBut they're fools who make rules out of fear of what flies in the nightBecause the Free Alien Air Force is flying tonight!
Uncle Sam in his paranoid fear shut-off the mountains that sur-roundThe Area called Fifty-One on Dreamland's dry Groom Lake groundNow the only civilians who dare fly over that siteCome from the Free Alien Air ForceUncle Sam's jets, scramble up, of courseBut the Free Alien Air Force is flying too high!
Flying so hi-i-igh...i-yi-yi-yi-yi!
(instrumental)

Is not propaganda destroying the minds of the young?The cover-up continued for power and greed in all forms!May the lies of the evil soon fall to the truth and the light!As the Free Alien Air Force flies freely tonight
Not even the President knows the full truth of what's going onAnd the media's co-opted, bought-out, and they're singing their songThey think none can stop them, their arrogance too great to fightThen their High-Tech Secret Air Force,Scrambles up on an inter-cept course,But the Free Alien Air Force is flying too high!
Flying so hi-i-igh...i-yi-yi-yi-yi!
Some ships come from Altair while others are coming from RigelThe Men-In-Black who watch them all use the alias "Nigel"It's all a chess game -- Earth's black and they're white,And the Free Alien Air Force just captured Earth's knight!
High in the skies they're discussing their plans for their landingTo welcome Earth to the Galactic Village in good standingAnd freedom for us is the prison for the rulers of might!That's why the Free Alien Air Force is flying tonight!
The Free Alien Air Force,With Element One-Fifteen fuel-source,Yes, the Free Alien Air Force, is flying tonight!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HCdgAqicDU