MZ on Our Jurisdiction

When we were children we were only allowed to go so far. To the end of the yard, or the end of the block, or a certain street. This was our jurisdiction. Then, as we started to grow, so grew our jurisdiction. Pretty soon, we could go to the next town, the next county, the next state, the next country, as long as we didn't stay out too late. The bigger we grew, the bigger our jurisdiction grew. Until finally our jurisdiction knew no bounds. However, how free were we? Were we as free as we think? In a natural shift, as our parents power decreased, our power increased. Until one day, our parents were powerless. And yet some sort of power rises from the ashes. Their influence, so subtle, so instilled, so nestled deep in our psyche, still giving subtle direction, and yet we don't even know. Then, sadly, the day comes when our parents are gone. And just when we thought our jurisdiction was complete, it is increased. This time, instead of outward, it grows inward. And our minds are set free. This is bittersweet freedom. But wait! As we live our lives, with seemingly infinite power, as we run around the world, or live the way we always wanted, and set our own course, free of any dirty looks from the old regime, we find something still remains. In a panic, we search our minds and our hearts, and realize, we were never once in complete control. Everything we did, was somehow weighed and approved or disapproved. Their name is on everything. Including your name itself. Their influence isn't just influence but at the base of every structure in our mind. The whole inner city in our minds, we believed to be our own creation, was built by their specifications, with a lesson here and suggestion there. Until finally we realize, we are our father's son, our mother's daughter. We are one.

MZ on Prickly People

Sure, Edgar will let you pet him. But not for more than 3 seconds straight. After that, Edgar gets afraid he's enjoying himself too much. And next thing you know, your hand is caught in a venus fly-trap of prickly kitty teeth and claws. Edgar is only a few months old. His brain is only the size of a walnut. Plus his biological mother was rather promiscuous, sometimes having 12 to 15 kitties, all out of wedlock, in one calendar year. So, it's no wonder Edgar is the way he is. So, what's your excuse?

MZ on Turning Over Love Trucks

I Turned Over The Love Truck
Lyrics to a new song by Michael Zinetti

I turned over the love truck
I turned over the love truck
And the driver crawled out of the cab
Rubbing his head and saying, "Boy, what have you done?"

I turned over the love truck
I turned over the love truck
And the love is pouring over me
A river of love flowing through this tired old city

I turned over the love truck
I turned over the love truck
And then I saw her standing there
With my love covered coat I wrapped it around her

I turned over the love truck
I turned over the love truck
And I don't care if you call the police
Lock me away and throw away the key

I turned over the love truck
I turned over the love truck

MZ on Satanic Tolerance

I hope when I get to hell, Satan isn't like one of those neat freaks who makes you take your shoes off before you walk in. Cuz chances are, my socks will have holes in them. And then I'll be all embarrassed and nervously crack a joke like, "Hey, Prince of Darkness, my socks are pretty holey, are you sure they deserve to go to hell?" Then he'll probably look at me like everyone always looks at me, like he's thinking, "Really? I gotta spend the rest of eternity with this schmuck? Really? They don't call it hell for nothing."