Mood: Indigo

So don’t let them begin the beguine
Let the love that was once a fire remain an ember;
Let it sleep like the dead desire I only remember
When they begin the beguine.

The left got woke, we were cancelled. Nowhere in their scheme of One World Government was there a place for a dark horse candidate like Donald Trump who believed in American exceptionalism and greatness. And when COVID engulfed the planet they pulled out their long-held Great Reset plan. Again Donald Trump did not fit into this plan so he had to be destroyed by any means necessary. But allow me to remind you: it isn’t Donald Trump they seek to destroy.

I implore you not to lose sight of this critical point: it is us they want…need to destroy.

It is our responsibility to make sure that doesn’t happen. So of course we keep fighting, but today is not the day I can figure out how that works or what it means. All I know is that if we don’t continue the fight it’s likely nobody else will either. We need to regroup: purge, disassemble reclaim what’s salvageable and add what’s missing. In other words a Great Rearrangement. And I don’t want to hear one mention of deck chairs; there is a time for cynicism but this is not it.

I am incapable of any rah rah pep talk so instead I offer a musical example of how elegant, and eloquent, a rearrangement can be.

Cole Porter’s Begin the Beguine was originally arranged in a major key with an up-tempo beguine dance tempo and it was very fine indeed. But here, and more in keeping with my mood today, is a soulful bossa-nova version rearranged in a minor key. I actually think the down-tempo version suits the lyrics better, which after all tell a rather sad story.

Yes, it’s Sheryl Crow, forget her foolish politics; she nails this.

When they begin the beguine
It brings back the sound of music so tender,
It brings back a night of tropical splendor,
It brings back a memory ever green.

I’m with you once more under the stars,
And down by the shore an orchestra’s playing
And even the palms seem to be swaying
When they begin the beguine.

To live it again is past all endeavor,
Except when that tune clutches my heart,
And there we are, swearing to love forever,
And promising never, never to part.

What moments divine, what rapture serene,
Till clouds came along to disperse the joys we had tasted,
And now when I hear people curse the chance that was wasted,
I know but too well what they mean;

So don’t let them begin the beguine
Let the love that was once a fire remain an ember;
Let it sleep like the dead desire I only remember
When they begin the beguine.

Oh yes, let them begin the beguine, make them play
Till the stars that were there before return above you,
Till you whisper to me once more,
Darling, I love you!
And we suddenly know What heaven we’re in,
When they begin the beguine

Let the Great Awakening begin. And let it not begin without the beguine.