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Yukon Blade Grinder: Werner Herzog Reflects on "The Trees"

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Tombstone Mountain

Tombstone Mountain

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The Yukon Blade Grinder

presents

 

Origins of Rush Songs:

The Trees

 

By Werner Herzog

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/e/ec/Wallace_and_gromit.jpg/260px-Wallace_and_gromit.jpg

 

I remember the day the Yukon Blade Grinder approached me for a new article in their controversial thread. Little did they know I’m a fan. I’ve been a member of The Rush Forum since its genesis, secretly posting under the user name "The Ecstatic Truth". When the call came, I was deep in the script for my new film Wallace and Gromit: The Hunt for the Bones of Kinski. Animation is a new medium for me, and working with clay is something I’ve always enjoyed. Gromit. Such a fascinating, sympathetic character. As usual I’m a sucker for a diversion in my life.

 

Molding new reality from lumps of earth excites me for some reason. It does the same for my wife. One of our favorite movies is Ghost, and sometimes, when the mood is right, we re-enact that famous scene with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze. Sparks re-emerge in our relationship as we speak German and Russian to each other during those passionate times. Such eroticism between the young and old is certainly worthy of poetic prose. However I digress.

 

 

 

 

Yearning for the next act in my movie to pop in my head, I sat in my office, begging the trance of creativity to descend upon me. Just as inspiration was about to arrive, I heard the phone ring and I knew it was a message from God. Listening to this rather articulate man, known only as Tombstone Mountain, I was convinced a story was there to be had and well worth exposing. A script can wait. I wrote Strozek in three days—no big deal.

 

My wife, who is 30 years my junior and a mail order bride from Russia, was intrigued by this voice as well. She described it a cross between Barry White, Pee Wee Herman, and Sergie Bubka.

 

 

 

Indeed. There was this vaulted warmth, an authority about him. A playful, mischievous element provoked my imagination. He described a situation of vitriol, love, and pity on The Rush Forum. Rush is winding a career down. Knowing the Forum the way I do, this man knew I could bring a unique perspective to this rumbling of emotions, and talk about the pure sacrifice of endurance a certain member of the band had to endure.

 

How could I not oblige?

 

My Life in Film

 

Most people know my work for its unflinching portrayal of people striving for greatness only to fall victim to our common fate. The need to matter in a universe of anti-matter permeates us, infiltrating our souls. Inspiration, like the eagle, can soar above the dreamy landscapes of our minds. Always problematic for the bird, danger lurks as we know eagles can be hit with an arrow, bullet, or stone. I should know. I’ve been hit with all three. The stone is the worst. Immediately painful.

 

Making sense of this story, and conveying it to The Rush Forum would be a piece of cake I thought compared to those experiences.

 

Der Hoden Chimes der Schwarzwaldes

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder inquired for me to search out the seeds of life to the song The Trees, written by Neil Peart. Didn't have to go far. I was there shortly after it was written. Neil showed up to my house a mess, with bloody scratch marks all over his body.

 

The YBG has been kind to me in the past, after the debacle of the Clockwork Angels tour. Time heals all wounds. The band is coming to the end of their time in the sun, and this song is being uncovered again for the faithful throngs of fans. Augmented by an intro for the ages during the Exit...Stage Left tour, it has burned a place in the mind of the Rush fan, and is an all-time classic--musically and lyrically. How did Neil come to write such a fantastic piece of work, with implications far exceeding the simple lyrics? Here's how...read on fellow Grinders!

 

In my homeland of Germany the Black Forest awaits. A place of great beauty and mystery. Ancient stories have resonance in the collective German conscience and are part and parcel of who we are as a people. The parable of Broom Hilda is just one of those timeless stories which gives Aesop a run for his money. Greeks think they know everything about morality tales…ach mein gott!

 

 

The Black Forest.

 

I remember Klaus Kinski and I would spend hours in that place, thinking of things to put into his autobiography. Most of them fabricated, but what does it matter? Inspiration, even if its origins are complete bullshit, can lead people into action, taking the mantle of control of their own lives. Just ask Barack Obama.

 

Many times I have sat alone in that forest contemplating life as birds chirp with such freedom, such joy. Even when it rains the beauty will not subside, as if impervious to the bleak monochrome hue of gray clouds. If one is especially still, the deer come to you and eat out of your hand. But there is more to be seen, and heard.

 

 

 

And on that rare day of the vernal equinox, at the precise moment of planetary equilibrium, when day and night share the exact same duration, a species of chipmunk known only to the black forest, will come sit on your shoulder and whisper the tale of Broom Hilda. Germans call this phenomenon Der Test. So titled because one must remain completely still, entirely motionless. You mustn’t giggle as those cute little rodents tickle your ear, while telling tales of yesteryear. Hard to do, for these creatures wear lederhosen and sing German drinking songs as they approach you. Though quite comical in appearance, it’s deadly serious. For if you give in to the desire to laugh, they attack you.

 

Many have died trying to make it out of the wood. Neil made it out, by stomping a ton of chipmunks. For most however, the chipmunks are almost always too great in number. Neil has very large feet and tried to keep the mayhem down to a minimum. He did. On the other hand, Kinski is really to blame for the severe reduction of the chipmunk population. When he went through der fehdehandschuh der deutsch streifenhornchen, he had a pistol on him, with four 30 round clips he bought while in Afghanistan.

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/5a/Woyzeck_dvd.jpg

Klaus Kinski--Chipmunk Killer

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/1/13/Neil_Peart_performing_at_the_Air_Canada_Centre_on_October_16%2C_2012.jpg/250px-Neil_Peart_performing_at_the_Air_Canada_Centre_on_October_16%2C_2012.jpg

Neil Peart--Chipmunk Slayer

 

But, If a traveler succumbs to the attack, their bare bones are taken to the legendary crypt of Broomhilda, and testicles are hung from the tall oak trees, creating a sound like wooden chimes that resonate with a peace that forces one to sit and listen. When it happens, a cocoon of serenity, a glow surrounds you. Before you know it, you’re sitting on Der Shiester Throne, which magically appears out of nowhere, giving superhuman inspiration to those who seek it.

 

Neil sat on that throne, and thus a song was born. He won't tell you how he actually came to write the lyrics, because the wounds he sustained are permanent, and carry a harsh weight. Many holy texts tell us "tis a sin to kill a mockingbird", well, in Germany, to kill a chipmunk is just as bad. Neil has to live with those scars. So, when the band cranks up this classic remember the man behind the kit went through much to bring you the magic of the Black Forest. Balls intact.

 

So until our next installment, should the Yukon Blade Grinder be so kind to ask me to share, I bid you Auf Wiedersehen und viel Glück!

Edited by Tombstone Mountain
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The Yukon Blade Grinder presents   Origins of Rush Songs: The Trees   By Werner Herzog   http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/e/ec/Wallace_and_gromit.jpg/260px-Wallace_and_gromit.

antiquark
antiquark

Never trust a squirrel!  

Tombstone Mountain
Tombstone Mountain

Is it a coincidence the new YBG comes out at this time?--TM     Solar eclipse, Supermoon, Spring equinox: Friday will see three rare celestial events       http://www.independent.co.uk/incoming/articl

x1yyz

x1yyz

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Dear Grey

 

I hope my german came across well. It's hard to mix english and german humor.

 

Regards,

TM

 

That's because Germans don't believe in humour. It was outlawed after the war.

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antiquark

antiquark

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Neil's a great admirer of Herzog. Rumor has it that the next album will be called "Cygnus X-1 Book III - Cobra Verde."

 

http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2007/03/22/movies/23cobr600.jpg

Edited by antiquark
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Tombstone Mountain

Tombstone Mountain

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Neil's a great admirer of Herzog. Rumor has it that the next album will be called "Cygnus X-1 Book III - Cobra Verde."

 

http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2007/03/22/movies/23cobr600.jpg

Now that's Kinski at his best! Leading the natives to war--Charge!!!!!

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http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b2/Lodgepole_Chipmunk_%28Neotamias_speciosus%29.jpg/220px-Lodgepole_Chipmunk_%28Neotamias_speciosus%29.jpg

 

The Black Forest Chipmunk. Intimidating to say the least. Neil was lucky to make it out alive.

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Lost In Xanadu

Lost In Xanadu

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Those things really will attack your nuts
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x1yyz

x1yyz

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Here's another chipmunk. Notice how his cheeks are stuffed with the flesh from his latest kill:

 

http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Chipmunks-Animal-Facts_zpscj1zdzmu.jpg

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Tombstone Mountain

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Here's another chipmunk. Notice how his cheeks are stuffed with the flesh from his latest kill:

 

http://i341.photobucket.com/albums/o371/x1yyz/Chipmunks-Animal-Facts_zpscj1zdzmu.jpg

This one must've chewed on Alex. Lots'a meat on them bones. San Francisco chipmunks are tough stuff!

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Babycat

Babycat

Posted
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The Yukon Blade Grinder

presents

 

Origins of Rush Songs:

The Trees

 

By Werner Herzog

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/e/ec/Wallace_and_gromit.jpg/260px-Wallace_and_gromit.jpg

 

I remember the day the Yukon Blade Grinder approached me for a new article in their controversial thread. Little did they know I’m a fan. I’ve been a member of The Rush Forum since its genesis, secretly posting under the user name "The Ecstatic Truth". When the call came, I was deep in the script for my new film Wallace and Gromit: The Hunt for the Bones of Kinski. Animation is a new medium for me, and working with clay is something I’ve always enjoyed. Gromit. Such a fascinating, sympathetic character. As usual I’m a sucker for a diversion in my life.

 

Molding new reality from lumps of earth excites me for some reason. It does the same for my wife. One of our favorite movies is Ghost, and sometimes, when the mood is right, we re-enact that famous scene with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze. Sparks re-emerge in our relationship as we speak German and Russian to each other during those passionate times. Such eroticism between the young and old is certainly worthy of poetic prose. However I digress.

 

 

 

 

Yearning for the next act in my movie to pop in my head, I sat in my office, begging the trance of creativity to descend upon me. Just as inspiration was about to arrive, I heard the phone ring and I knew it was a message from God. Listening to this rather articulate man, known only as Tombstone Mountain, I was convinced a story was there to be had and well worth exposing. A script can wait. I wrote Strozek in three days—no big deal.

 

My wife, who is 30 years my junior and a mail order bride from Russia, was intrigued by this voice as well. She described it a cross between Barry White, Pee Wee Herman, and Sergie Bubka.

 

 

 

Indeed. There was this vaulted warmth, an authority about him. A playful, mischievous element provoked my imagination. He described a situation of vitriol, love, and pity on The Rush Forum. Rush is winding a career down. Knowing the Forum the way I do, this man knew I could bring a unique perspective to this rumbling of emotions, and talk about the pure sacrifice of endurance a certain member of the band had to endure.

 

How could I not oblige?

 

My Life in Film

 

Most people know my work for its unflinching portrayal of people striving for greatness only to fall victim to our common fate. The need to matter in a universe of anti-matter permeates us, infiltrating our souls. Inspiration, like the eagle, can soar above the dreamy landscapes of our minds. Always problematic for the bird, danger lurks as we know eagles can be hit with an arrow, bullet, or stone. I should know. I’ve been hit with all three. The stone is the worst. Immediately painful.

 

Making sense of this story, and conveying it to The Rush Forum would be a piece of cake I thought compared to those experiences.

 

Der Hoden Chimes der Schwarzwaldes

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder inquired for me to search out the seeds of life to the song The Trees, written by Neil Peart. Didn't have to go far. I was there shortly after it was written. Neil showed up to my house a mess, with bloody scratch marks all over his body.

 

The YBG has been kind to me in the past, after the debacle of the Clockwork Angels tour. Time heals all wounds. The band is coming to the end of their time in the sun, and this song is being uncovered again for the faithful throngs of fans. Augmented by an intro for the ages during the Exit...Stage Left tour, it has burned a place in the mind of the Rush fan, and is an all-time classic--musically and lyrically. How did Neil come to write such a fantastic piece of work, with implications far exceeding the simple lyrics? Here's how...read on fellow Grinders!

 

In my homeland of Germany the Black Forest awaits. A place of great beauty and mystery. Ancient stories have resonance in the collective German conscience and are part and parcel of who we are as a people. The parable of Broom Hilda is just one of those timeless stories which gives Aesop a run for his money. Greeks think they know everything about morality tales…ach mein gott!

 

 

The Black Forest.

 

I remember Klaus Kinski and I would spend hours in that place, thinking of things to put into his autobiography. Most of them fabricated, but what does it matter? Inspiration, even if its origins are complete bullshit, can lead people into action, taking the mantle of control of their own lives. Just ask Barack Obama.

 

Many times I have sat alone in that forest contemplating life as birds chirp with such freedom, such joy. Even when it rains the beauty will not subside, as if impervious to the bleak monochrome hue of gray clouds. If one is especially still, the deer come to you and eat out of your hand. But there is more to be seen, and heard.

 

 

 

And on that rare day of the vernal equinox, at the precise moment of planetary equilibrium, when day and night share the exact same duration, a species of chipmunk known only to the black forest, will come sit on your shoulder and whisper the tale of Broom Hilda. Germans call this phenomenon Der Test. So titled because one must remain completely still, entirely motionless. You mustn’t giggle as those cute little rodents tickle your ear, while telling tales of yesteryear. Hard to do, for these creatures wear lederhosen and sing German drinking songs as they approach you. Though quite comical in appearance, it’s deadly serious. For if you give in to the desire to laugh, they attack you.

 

Many have died trying to make it out of the wood. Neil made it out, by stomping a ton of chipmunks. For most however, the chipmunks are almost always too great in number. Neil has very large feet and tried to keep the mayhem down to a minimum. He did. On the other hand, Kinski is really to blame for the severe reduction of the chipmunk population. When he went through der fehdehandschuh der deutsch streifenhornchen, he had a pistol on him, with four 30 round clips he bought while in Afghanistan.

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/5a/Woyzeck_dvd.jpg

Klaus Kinski--Chipmunk Killer

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/1/13/Neil_Peart_performing_at_the_Air_Canada_Centre_on_October_16%2C_2012.jpg/250px-Neil_Peart_performing_at_the_Air_Canada_Centre_on_October_16%2C_2012.jpg

Neil Peart--Chipmunk Slayer

 

But, If a traveler succumbs to the attack, their bare bones are taken to the legendary crypt of Broomhilda, and testicles are hung from the tall oak trees, creating a sound like wooden chimes that resonate with a peace that forces one to sit and listen. When it happens, a cocoon of serenity, a glow surrounds you. Before you know it, you’re sitting on Der Shiester Throne, which magically appears out of nowhere, giving superhuman inspiration to those who seek it.

 

Neil sat on that throne, and thus a song was born. He won't tell you how he actually came to write the lyrics, because the wounds he sustained are permanent, and carry a harsh weight. Many holy texts tell us "tis a sin to kill a mockingbird", well, in Germany, to kill a chipmunk is just as bad. Neil has to live with those scars. So, when the band cranks up this classic remember the man behind the kit went through much to bring you the magic of the Black Forest. Balls intact.

 

So until our next installment, should the Yukon Blade Grinder be so kind to ask me to share, I bid you Auf Wiedersehen und viel Glück!

 

I don't know how you do this, but it's absolutely awesome! :ebert: :ebert: :ebert:

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Tombstone Mountain

Tombstone Mountain

Posted
  • Author
Posted

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder

presents

 

Origins of Rush Songs:

The Trees

 

By Werner Herzog

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/e/ec/Wallace_and_gromit.jpg/260px-Wallace_and_gromit.jpg

 

I remember the day the Yukon Blade Grinder approached me for a new article in their controversial thread. Little did they know I’m a fan. I’ve been a member of The Rush Forum since its genesis, secretly posting under the user name "The Ecstatic Truth". When the call came, I was deep in the script for my new film Wallace and Gromit: The Hunt for the Bones of Kinski. Animation is a new medium for me, and working with clay is something I’ve always enjoyed. Gromit. Such a fascinating, sympathetic character. As usual I’m a sucker for a diversion in my life.

 

Molding new reality from lumps of earth excites me for some reason. It does the same for my wife. One of our favorite movies is Ghost, and sometimes, when the mood is right, we re-enact that famous scene with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze. Sparks re-emerge in our relationship as we speak German and Russian to each other during those passionate times. Such eroticism between the young and old is certainly worthy of poetic prose. However I digress.

 

 

 

 

 

Yearning for the next act in my movie to pop in my head, I sat in my office, begging the trance of creativity to descend upon me. Just as inspiration was about to arrive, I heard the phone ring and I knew it was a message from God. Listening to this rather articulate man, known only as Tombstone Mountain, I was convinced a story was there to be had and well worth exposing. A script can wait. I wrote Strozek in three days—no big deal.

 

My wife, who is 30 years my junior and a mail order bride from Russia, was intrigued by this voice as well. She described it a cross between Barry White, Pee Wee Herman, and Sergie Bubka.

 

 

 

 

Indeed. There was this vaulted warmth, an authority about him. A playful, mischievous element provoked my imagination. He described a situation of vitriol, love, and pity on The Rush Forum. Rush is winding a career down. Knowing the Forum the way I do, this man knew I could bring a unique perspective to this rumbling of emotions, and talk about the pure sacrifice of endurance a certain member of the band had to endure.

 

How could I not oblige?

 

My Life in Film

 

Most people know my work for its unflinching portrayal of people striving for greatness only to fall victim to our common fate. The need to matter in a universe of anti-matter permeates us, infiltrating our souls. Inspiration, like the eagle, can soar above the dreamy landscapes of our minds. Always problematic for the bird, danger lurks as we know eagles can be hit with an arrow, bullet, or stone. I should know. I’ve been hit with all three. The stone is the worst. Immediately painful.

 

Making sense of this story, and conveying it to The Rush Forum would be a piece of cake I thought compared to those experiences.

 

Der Hoden Chimes der Schwarzwaldes

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder inquired for me to search out the seeds of life to the song The Trees, written by Neil Peart. Didn't have to go far. I was there shortly after it was written. Neil showed up to my house a mess, with bloody scratch marks all over his body.

 

The YBG has been kind to me in the past, after the debacle of the Clockwork Angels tour. Time heals all wounds. The band is coming to the end of their time in the sun, and this song is being uncovered again for the faithful throngs of fans. Augmented by an intro for the ages during the Exit...Stage Left tour, it has burned a place in the mind of the Rush fan, and is an all-time classic--musically and lyrically. How did Neil come to write such a fantastic piece of work, with implications far exceeding the simple lyrics? Here's how...read on fellow Grinders!

 

In my homeland of Germany the Black Forest awaits. A place of great beauty and mystery. Ancient stories have resonance in the collective German conscience and are part and parcel of who we are as a people. The parable of Broom Hilda is just one of those timeless stories which gives Aesop a run for his money. Greeks think they know everything about morality tales…ach mein gott!

 

 

 

The Black Forest.

 

I remember Klaus Kinski and I would spend hours in that place, thinking of things to put into his autobiography. Most of them fabricated, but what does it matter? Inspiration, even if its origins are complete bullshit, can lead people into action, taking the mantle of control of their own lives. Just ask Barack Obama.

 

Many times I have sat alone in that forest contemplating life as birds chirp with such freedom, such joy. Even when it rains the beauty will not subside, as if impervious to the bleak monochrome hue of gray clouds. If one is especially still, the deer come to you and eat out of your hand. But there is more to be seen, and heard.

 

 

 

 

And on that rare day of the vernal equinox, at the precise moment of planetary equilibrium, when day and night share the exact same duration, a species of chipmunk known only to the black forest, will come sit on your shoulder and whisper the tale of Broom Hilda. Germans call this phenomenon Der Test. So titled because one must remain completely still, entirely motionless. You mustn’t giggle as those cute little rodents tickle your ear, while telling tales of yesteryear. Hard to do, for these creatures wear lederhosen and sing German drinking songs as they approach you. Though quite comical in appearance, it’s deadly serious. For if you give in to the desire to laugh, they attack you.

 

Many have died trying to make it out of the wood. Neil made it out, by stomping a ton of chipmunks. For most however, the chipmunks are almost always too great in number. Neil has very large feet and tried to keep the mayhem down to a minimum. He did. On the other hand, Kinski is really to blame for the severe reduction of the chipmunk population. When he went through der fehdehandschuh der deutsch streifenhornchen, he had a pistol on him, with four 30 round clips he bought while in Afghanistan.

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/5a/Woyzeck_dvd.jpg

Klaus Kinski--Chipmunk Killer

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/1/13/Neil_Peart_performing_at_the_Air_Canada_Centre_on_October_16%2C_2012.jpg/250px-Neil_Peart_performing_at_the_Air_Canada_Centre_on_October_16%2C_2012.jpg

Neil Peart--Chipmunk Slayer

 

But, If a traveler succumbs to the attack, their bare bones are taken to the legendary crypt of Broomhilda, and testicles are hung from the tall oak trees, creating a sound like wooden chimes that resonate with a peace that forces one to sit and listen. When it happens, a cocoon of serenity, a glow surrounds you. Before you know it, you’re sitting on Der Shiester Throne, which magically appears out of nowhere, giving superhuman inspiration to those who seek it.

 

Neil sat on that throne, and thus a song was born. He won't tell you how he actually came to write the lyrics, because the wounds he sustained are permanent, and carry a harsh weight. Many holy texts tell us "tis a sin to kill a mockingbird", well, in Germany, to kill a chipmunk is just as bad. Neil has to live with those scars. So, when the band cranks up this classic remember the man behind the kit went through much to bring you the magic of the Black Forest. Balls intact.

 

So until our next installment, should the Yukon Blade Grinder be so kind to ask me to share, I bid you Auf Wiedersehen und viel Glück!

 

I don't know how you do this, but it's absolutely awesome! :ebert: :ebert: :ebert:

How do I do it? It's magic babycat! Just magic.

 

Actually, little blue pills with the name "Flintstones" etched on them

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