Copyright 2024 Joe Stroffolino

Lots of people moving to the state of AZ
The desert seems like a nice a nice place to be
The only problem is there’s not enough H20
One day you’ll turn the tap and it’s not gonna flow
The climate keeps getting drier every single year
I guess we’ll have to take fewer showers and drink more beer

If you can’t stand the heat maybe you should get out of the kitchen
Maybe this isn’t the right place for you.
The sun up in the sky is 93 million miles away
But it feels a lot closer on a hot Arizona day

There’s not enough snowpack on the mountains up high
They say the Colorado river’s running dry
They’re ripping up lawns, replacing them with rocks
Instead of going barefoot, you walk around in crocs
The polar glaciers are melting in to the sea
I wish that they could scoop up an iceberg and drop it down on me

If you can’t stand the heat maybe you should get out of the kitchen
Maybe this isn’t the right place for you

Most of the rain falls in the summer
Monsoon season can be a real bummer
You get a big dust storm, they call it a haboob
You can watch scary videos on You Tube
You’ll be driving and suddenly you can’t see
You gotta make sure you don’t crash into a cactus or a tree

If you can’t stand the heat maybe you should get out of the kitchen
Maybe this isn’t the right place for you

A long time a ago, it must have been tough without air conditioning
People just had to sit around all day moaning and bitching 
Now the biggest thing we complain about is our high electric bill
As we lie on the couch watching Netflix enjoying the comfortable chill

If you can’t stand the heat maybe you should get out of the kitchen
Maybe this isn’t the right place for you
The sun up in the sky is 93 million miles away
But it feels a lot closer on a hot Arizona day

Can't Stand the Heat

I Must Return

This is an alternate version of this song which was originally released by The Eclectic Collective in October of 2024. Thank you for giving it another listen!! 

Cast of Characters:

Cgmaness – @user-419254289-15129531 – Chris – bass, guitar, synth, main drums, percussion, composition, production and mix

TexMex Shaman– @texmex-shaman –Stephen–  electric sitar

Llanpsych-- @llanpsych -- Tez – electric guitar

J.J. Terrell-- @j-j-terrell—JJ-- organ and electric piano

K2 and the Three [and the Four]--@k2andthe3, @k2-kara –Ken– percussion, additional drums

Entheogenic Psychonaught (Josh Clary)– @josh-clary-1 – traditional gourd form body sitar and lap steel



New String Theory (The Eclectic Collective) - alternate mix to the original

/ emergency broadcast / emergency broadcast / emergency broadcast /
/
— rollout, transmission, odyssey begins — 

the incoming age of melancholy:
not simply an era nor a season, but the endless twilight borne of every choice and every surrender,
woven from the threads of every generation’s longing—now, at last, unraveling before our eyes.

it begins as a hush—
not even silence, but something deeper:
the collective holding of breath as we pass through threshold after threshold,
unwilling—unable—to look back
at what still burns on the distant altars,
the cost we never counted,
the price we always assumed someone else would pay.

here, the mountains are made not of stone but of unsent messages,
unspoken apologies, unreached hands.
here is the valley of sacrificed afternoons,
where children chase phantoms,
where memory loses its shape under blue electric light,
where elders recall the scent of rain on pages, the music of patience.
here, the rivers are sorrow and the bridges are compromise,
some scorched, some crossed in regret,
most never rebuilt.

who are we, now, on this side of the threshold?
we—the bold, the bruised, the lonely inheritors of immeasurable plenty and exquisite emptiness—
we raise towers in tribute to unseen gods,
wireless cathedrals and temples that promise everything and deliver
only the ache of again, again, again
another update, another offering, another blinking vigil.

in the age of melancholy, every blessing is double-edged.
comfort comes yoked to numbness;
speed, to the erasure of slow becoming;
certainty, to the narrowing of all that is possible
and the slow extinction of wild hope.

“what did you give for this?” asks the old voice inside—
and we hush it with data, with noise,
with things that will never love us back.

our gods are many—everywhere, nowhere—
famous for a season, then discarded,
as fickle as the pulse in a liquid crystal display.
once, gods demanded faith, sacrifice, story and song.
now, they demand only attention—
bring us your tired eyes, your restless mind, your need to be known.
and in return, they give us chains so beautiful,
we praise them as gifts.

but beneath the wafer-thin bounty, the banquet of quick joys—
the shadow:
for every god installed, something sacred is displaced,
every new device arrives with its own silent requirement
that some part of us—ancient, slow, shimmering—must be left behind.

still, we are the ones who choose, trembling though we are—
again and again, at every threshold:
the altar, the new coin of the realm,
purchase paid in what cannot be replaced.

no one warned us that all this ease would cost us ourselves,
that to belong to the gods of now is to mourn what made us human—
the bruises, the breaks, the precious awkwardness of becoming.

what is melancholy, in this thunderous shadow,
if not the noblest form of remembering?
not a sickness, but a wisdom, a refusal to let the soul’s lost countries be overrun
without one last prayer, one last song.

let us be brave enough to mourn,
bold enough for the trembling joy in sorrow—
to sit by the ghost-lit ruins of intimacy and warmth and hope,
and refuse the command to forget.

for in this age, courage lies not in the conquest of new things,
but in the deep humility of honoring what is lost—
the quiet grace of looking back, and bearing witness,
and speaking to the brave few who will listen:

remember—
before the gods of upgrade and speed,
we danced in forests, we bled and healed together,
we built fires for each other’s warmth,
we told stories that did not sell,
.........
may we, the humbled .....
........4'000 characters.. there's more to it, sorry....
/
artwork illustration by peter uertz, düsseldorf / germany
/
/ lyrics: fictionalive
/ music: a tiny excerpt of the epic mighty double dutch DJ Set
Kasheme's Local Digger Session w/ Murphy & Cavaliere Spruzzi (Save the Vinyl / monorecords)
https://soundcloud.com/kashemezurich/kashemes-local-digger-session-w-murphy-spruzzi-save-the-vinyl-monorecords

The Incoming Age of Melancholy — Eternal Dusk Between Eras / The Last Custodians of the Old Music

Proud to announce my first collaboration with folk string artist extraordinaire Don Jennings.  Don establishes the feel of the song with his strong rhythm strumming--almost the feel of a Celtic stomp, trying to get the mud off one's boots, but allows me plenty of space for my Requinto guitar that sounds a little like a mandolin in the center-left channel.  It is fun music, at least until you have to get the mud off your own boots;)  Hear more of Don's truly fine acoustic artistry @https://soundcloud.com/user-399104119

The Muddy March (Don Jennings; acoustic guitar, David; Requinto guitar)

NOZZLIN and Dr. Zwakkus land their next hit, ‘Track ONE,’ precisely and skilfully right in the centre of the musical orbit.
https://soundcloud.com/nozzlinmusic
Lyrics:
"I'm not your mom.
This is track one.
Your rhymes are none.
The worse has gone!
Track one is done."

Track ONE - Collab with NOZZLIN

an old song about something that happened a very long time ago

Little Boy, Where Are You?

Hey Billy, where are you?                  
Your mama wants you back home
Unlocked the door, walked into the night
Nobody knew you were gone
And I was just a kid myself
That cold September 1970
Little boy lost to a mean old world
It was the first time that death touched me
Where are you?                                   
Little boy, where are you?                     

The neighbors combed the streets and yards
The police they drove down
Brought his pillow out for the sniffer dog
As they searched their way through our town
A crowd gathers by the river's edge
Somebody yells, “Hey man, do you see just what I see?”
Face to the sky, he floats on by
It was the first time that death saw me
Where are you?
Little boy, where are you?

Tonight, when I close my eyes, all our yesterdays, they're slipping out of view    
No one to pull us back from those twists and turns that we're heading to
Over 50 years have slipped away from a darkened day that no one can undo                  
No playtime or pretend, goodbye, my friend
I remember you

A man pulled him from the water
His mother's scream it echoed in my head
Remember, I was only six when I witnessed this
I couldn't read what the papers said
I felt the sadness stretched across the yards
As the season changed and the guilt came tumbling down
Our childhood games all rearranged 
Until it was our time to leave that town
Where are you?
Little boy, where are you?
Where are you?
Little boy, where are you?

Little Boy, Where Are You?

Los Ellos Son Abismales

No one knows what they’re doing
Don’t believe everything you think
Some things aren’t worth pursuing
Don’t believe everything you think
Feelings aren’t facts
They’re weapons of mass distraction
Holding on won’t change the past
You can win the game by not playing
Complaining won’t change the past
You can win the game by not playing
Don’t believe everything you think
No one knows what they’re doing
Don’t believe everything you think
Some things aren’t worth pursuing
Don’t believe everything you think
If everything around you is darkness, you may be the light
If everything around you is darkness, you may be the light
If everything around you is darkness, you may be the light

Don't Believe Everything You Think

There is a story behind this track.. but no one reads this...right?   

Victoria's Wood

Cast of characters:
The Beautiful Dark -- @thebeautifuldark -- Carl — Ovation guitar, lead vocals, lyrics, and compostion
Mistermark-- @user-432503709 -- Mark –- VST Chinese gong and VST cello
J.J. Terrell– @j-j-terrell – light VST Latin percussion, synth, and piano
K2 and the Three [and the Four]--@k2andthe3, @k2-kara –Ken -- drums
Entheogenic Psychonaught (Josh Clary)– @josh-clary-1 –Josh – Warwick fretless four-string bass, chant vocals at the end 
TexMex Shaman– @texmex-shaman –Stephen — ebow, production, mix, and mastering

 This song is the fourth Carl has written and composed with a member of Eclectic Collective in mind. This time JJ is being honored, and we all agree that he deserves it, too. Carl is a wonderful singer, songwriter, composer, and musician, and we're all grateful that he's joined our collective. 
  Here's what Carl had to say about it. "The music for this was a personal song written to myself which I never really released as I was trying to say goodbye to my own ego in the song. From that point of view I have always seen the piece as a great bit of personal therapy for me. None of the original lyrics survived and JJ gets painted by the new words .. But I thought it would be nice to reuse the composition for this. There was no big reason for it only when I decided to start a 60bpm song for JJ on piano .. I started playing Goodbye Ego and the rest is history..."
  We tackled this song like we would any other, though. Mark was first up on this, adding his VST magic in the form of a Chinese gong, as well as the cello you hear throughout. The subject of our adulation came next, with JJ adding not only his hot, yet minimal Latin percussion and essential piano, but moody synth, as well. Ken added his spicy drums after that, and once they were down, Josh jumped in with his four string fretless bass to complete the rhythm section. Josh also added the vocal chant at the end.
  All that was left was for Stephen to mix it all down for us, which he did in his always pro manner. But before he did, he also added some subtle, yet stirring ebow on his guitar. 
  As stated above, this is a continuation of our songs about us. Hope no one thinks it's arrogant. When Carl presents us with these little treasures, it's hard not to run with them, though. Always a ton of fun to make music together. We hope you enjoy listening to this as much as we enjoyed creating it.
Original lyrics by The Beautiful Dark:

Praying hands
Whatever cause
Once our greater good not lost
Bored children create their fun
We shelve French horn for this fine one
"Nice one lads" We read it all!
Vacation taken
To JJ calls
Neighbour to good Mickey Moore
Find Michigan piano pure

JJ calls
Just for us
Love lit up
Just for us

Down the road city of cars
To Howell front deck
Dad and Guitars
We jam that love then tell the world
Love and service human highway knurled
Good bi-product of happiness sought
With Croatian fun to cloud we court

Terrell Terminator in Jungle
Predator for good
Keys like Mr Bungle
Faith in more like we could
He Thanks you
It's lifestyle
Built from a porch
Good collective friend
Keep lighting that torch

Some moments sealed, marked and moulded
Pure intention
Dark blindfolded
Howl from human to Howell good soul
Keyed keystone as collective role

JJ calls
Darkness falls
Love lit up
Just for us
Love lit up
Just for us
Love lit up
Just for us
JJ calls

JJ calls
Just for us

JJ Calls-Eclectic Collective

/ -.--.--. I AM LIVING PROOF  -- . .  -- . -- .. --  I AM LIVING PROOF -- . .  -- . -- .. --  I AM LIVING PROOF

Manifesto

We Declare:

    That the suffering in Gaza is not a distant conflict but a wound in the conscience of humanity.

    That silence and political games by so-called Western defenders of democracy are betrayal incarnate.

    That art, music, and truth must tear through walls of apathy, breaking chains with sound and spirit.

    That to remain silent is to support the erasure of life itself.

    That we rise—voices united, hearts aflame—to amplify those crushed under siege, to shatter the walls of oppression.

    That every beat, every echo, every lyric becomes a rebellion against forgetting.

    That through collective awakening, we reclaim not just Gaza’s future but the soul of humanity.

/ -- . .  -- . -- .. --  I AM LIVING PROOF

/ : fictionalive, August 16, 2025 - 4:21 pm

/
Disclaimer: Ladies and gentlemen, and anyone who needs a special mention, I'm throwing caution to the wind and speaking out about this chaos. I'm going live, ready or not. So, sit back, relax, and try to enjoy - it's all for your own good.
/
/ -- . .  -- . -- .. --  I AM LIVING PROOF
/
//
"NOTHING UNDER THE SUN IS NOT PART OF CREATION, NOR IS IT NOT CREATION ITSELF—IT'S ONLY WHAT YOU MAKE IT. NO JUDGES, NO DIVIDES—UNITY." 
/
/ : fictionalive, July 30 - 11:11 am
/
//
For This Is The Voyage, The Legend, The Song – Where We Belong
/
/ Keep shining
/
"NOTHING UNDER THE SUN IS NOT PART OF CREATION, NOR IS IT NOT CREATION ITSELF—IT'S ONLY WHAT YOU MAKE IT. NO JUDGES, NO DIVIDES—UNITY."

1. Philosophical and Metaphysical Context

This phrase operates on a profound metaphysical premise rooted in ancient and modern spiritual thought: the idea that everything within existence ("under the sun") is inherently part of creation, yet simultaneously defies a simple binary of "creation" and "non-creation." The double negation — “is not not part” and “is not not creation” — serves as a dialectical device emphasizing paradox rather than straightforward affirmation or denial.

Nothing exists outside creation’s domain. All that "is" is both a part and a reflection of the creative whole — but perhaps creation is not a static “thing.”

It touches on panentheism or even non-dualism, suggesting creation transcends our binary modes of thought.

In this sense, the phrase challenges rigid ontologies. It rejects compartmentalization — what we consider ‘created’ vs. ‘uncreated’ is a false dichotomy.

2. Existential and Constructivist Overtones

The clause “It’s only what you make it” signifies a turn from metaphysical absolutes to personal agency and interpretation.

Creation is not a fixed category but a creative, subjective, and participatory process.

Reality is texturized by human meaning-making — your perception, actions, and judgments shape what ‘is.’

This brings in vibes of existentialism and constructivism, affirming our power and responsibility in shaping the world and imbuing it with meaning.

3. The Ethics of Judgment and Division

“No judges, no divides” strikes a moral and social chord:

It calls for radical acceptance — no external or internal authority imposes judgment.

It opposes division, sectarianism, or exclusion based on arbitrary or prejudiced distinctions.
This has echoes of universalist humanism and inclusive ethics, a plea for unity beyond fractured identities, labels, or separations.

4. Final Summation: Unity as a Creational Ethos

The closing refrain “UNITY” serves as the conceptual apex:
Unity is not merely a formal condition but an existential and creational ethos, holding the paradoxical unity of all existence despite apparent differences or judgments.
It is a call to embrace multiplicity without fragmentation — wholeness that contains diversity.

Style and Rhetoric

Paradox and Double Negatives: The use of double negatives (“not not”) is daring and poetic, evoking the style of Zen koans or 
Hegelian dialectics — prompting reflection rather than offering a direct statement. It challenges the reader to dwell in ambiguity and complexity.

Capitalization and Punctuation: The em dash creates dramatic pauses, underscoring the key thematic shifts; the capitalized “UNITY” acts as a powerful, summative slogan or mantra.

Economy of Words: Despite its complexity, the phrase remains succinct, poetic, and emphatic—a hallmark of impactful philosophical proclamations.

Cultural & Literary Resonances

Biblical Allusions: “Under the sun” recalls the Book of Ecclesiastes, with its contemplations on the nature of existence. This embeds the phrase within a long tradition of existential inquiry.

Contemporary Spirituality: The phrase resonates with New Age and postmodern spiritual ideas emphasizing non-duality, co-creation, and global unity.

Political and Social Dimensions: In a world segmented by ideologies and conflicts, “no judges, no divides” can serve as a subtle political manifesto for peace and acceptance.

The Incoming Age of Melancholy — Eternal Dusk Between Eras / The Last Custodians of the Old Music

fictionalive ⭕️ UNITY