Something that every man wants to know is: Will the ladies that they've crossed paths with and shared clothes with throughout a long and winding life remember them fondly or cruelly when they kick the bucket. It's not a gnawing thought that presides over all the waking times that go by, but it quakes old men to ashes when they get into those Sundays of their lives, when winter is four seasons a year and that's all that they care to think about when the beating of their hearts is strangely unfamiliar and haunting. It's not all that there is to worry about when endings are more numerous than beginnings and when the scary thoughts of goodbyes forever are littering a mind like a baseball stadium grandstand covered in hot dog wrappers and soda pop cups. It is one of the things and it's something that Neva Dinova lead singer Jake Bellows will find much time for when he's gray and frail, though he's getting an early start on such dour, yet provoking minglings of quasi romantic thoughts and the prose of those who spent a lot of time roaming and considering the ways they were very little.
Gone were those who were interacted with, shot right past like a blinding and only half-way memorable light. Those actions are beheld only long after they've picked up their temporary residence and receded into the back rooms. Bellows doesn't stop there - thinking the golden and time-honored old man thoughts, if they were ever able to be as articulate about them as they'd like to be - deconstructing many of aspects that are considered the big ticket issues by anyone with some gums to flap and a somewhat unsteady conscious, or at least a wicked twist of discouraging forecasts and time to burn. He goes after the position of God/religion and he tackles a personal theory to perhaps work with a supercomputer to just scrap what's already been done and do it all again from scratch.
What this place needs, he thinks on "Supercomputer," is a makeover and it needs to be one that gets everything right for a change. Though, there are many things that would be consistent with the way that they are now, when things are portrayed as being so rotten and terrible. It's an imagining of God again - not the one that's so tough to love when his whereabouts in certain tragic-stricken moments becomes a point of grilling and interrogation - having more knowledge now, all the facts and figures of thousands of years of statistical analysis, Google at his fingertips and Wikipedia to consult with before crunching all of the numbers and data and devising something new - something that's really going to pop and something that's going to lend itself to a considerable amount more pride than the first try. He's taking a mulligan on this one and even that doesn't mean that anything's going to get fixed. Points of reference and 20/20 hindsight still does not accurately suggest that there will be more intelligence in putting together an imperfect world.
Neva Dinova loves this imperfect world and it's the same one that its Omaha brethren seem to have a scrumptious knack for understanding. There are takes of this imperfection and a questioning of "management" from everyone from Simon Joyner and Bright Eyes and Cursive on the serious tip and Tilly and the Wall, when it comes to understanding the shit-talking that goes on between the cats when the games begin and friends stop being them. There are squirrels doing back flips in a backyard for change to entertain a grieving mother as Bellows sings in his country drawl and there are people watching football games because they've run out of the proper motivation to see the world as anything but a diseased tree trunk with a fluorescent orange X marked across its trunk, ready for the chainsaw, or a house with broken out windows and an eviction notice stapled to the door.
Bellows has prepped himself for the demolition crew and he's willing to suggest to the new designer that he remembers that everyone did typically enjoy the skies being blue in the old days and these things that went right with the first dry run could go right again, but that's only speculation. He speculates this way with a metered tone and it makes for a startlingly beautiful lookout point.
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