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Harry E. Palm Sr.Date published: 5/11/2011Harry E. Palm Sr.Retired U.S. Army 1st Sgt. Harry Edward Palm Sr., 86, died Monday, May 9, 2011, at Stafford Hospital.Survivors include his sons, retired U.S. Navy Capt. Harry E. Palm Jr. and his wife, Isabella, Nicholas Palm and his wife, Pam, and Mark Palm and his wife, Dorothy; his daughters, Mary Palm Morgan and her partner, Beth Fitton, and Monica Williams and her husband, Keith; his brother-in-law, Jacek Skryzalin and his wife, Kathy; 17 grandchildren; nine great-grandchildren; and numerous nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his wife, Margaret Palm.The family will receive friends from 2 to 4 p.m. and 6 to 8 p.m. Thursday, May 12, at Covenant Funeral Service, Stafford, with a prayer service at 7 p.m. A funeral will be held at 10:30 a.m. Friday, May 13, at St. William of York Catholic Church, with the Rev. Geronimo A. Magat officiating. Interment will be held at a later date in Arlington National Cemetery.Memorials may be made in his name to the Fredericksburg Area Food Bank, Box 1006, Fredericksburg, Va. 22402.Online guest book is at covenantfuneralservice.com.Date published: 5/11/2011 Obit Link

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When DFW died, Chorozzo made a disrespectful comment, and I slowly willed him into the grave over it. I didn't love Prince less than I loved DFW.

He's colder than that, now.

Sorry. I usually just blow by your posts without reading them.

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Harry E. Palm Sr.
This took me no less than 5 minutes to figure out why you posted it.
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This took me no less than 5 minutes to figure out why you posted it.
I didn't get it until your reply. I even did a search and learned that poor Harry Sr was married to Margaret for 62 years and she passed last November.
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I didn't get it until your reply. I even did a search and learned that poor Harry Sr was married to Margaret for 62 years and she passed last November.
I also preformed an inconclusive google search.
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The revolution will not be televised.
My friend wrote a mildly funny facebook post which informed me about his death:Due to a lack of arts coverage in the media, the story of Gil Scott-Heron's death will not be televised.
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My friend wrote a mildly funny facebook post which informed me about his death:Due to a lack of arts coverage in the media, the story of Gil Scott-Heron's death will not be televised.
When I imagine "you" and "your friends", I envision a group of wrist-flapping, white, Kinsey Scale midrangers who fancy themselves 'hip' by way of hero worshiping drug-addled negro cultural esoterica, when not preoccupied with fellating one another. "Hey Wally! I'm listening to Roy Andrews right now. He's a homeless epileptic shitbum from Gary, Indiana who's syncopated the noise made by his mouth-frothing, heroin induced seizures to a harmony laid out by a Mongolian throat singer! Got all his recordings on New Vinyl. I learned about him while cruising the Chelsea glory hole scene from a closeted Wall Street trader, right before he busted on my forehead... The guy's just great... Andrews, I mean, not the trader...Well, he was OK too, but seriously, Andrews... Real heavy stuff... Tells it JUST like it is. Least derivative spoken-word stuff I've heard since the great John Henry Jefferson. You know him... John Henry? He was a Pullman Porter / crack addict who played the spoons while plaintively lamenting the injustice of Rhodesian military atrocities committed against the ANC freedom fighters... So much SOUL!"
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roy andrews is overrated
only by wrist-flapping, white, Kinsey Scale midrangers who fancy themselves 'hip' by way of hero worshiping drug-addled negro cultural esoterica, when not preoccupied with fellating one another.
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Hey Wally! I'm listening to Roy Andrews right now. He's a homeless epileptic shitbum from Gary, Indiana who's syncopated the noise made by his mouth-frothing, heroin induced seizures to a harmony laid out by a Mongolian throat singer! Got all his recordings on New Vinyl.
Sounds like the rich man's Wesley Willis.
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When I imagine "you" and "your friends", I envision a group of wrist-flapping, white, Kinsey Scale midrangers who fancy themselves 'hip' by way of hero worshiping drug-addled negro cultural esoterica, when not preoccupied with fellating one another. "Hey Wally! I'm listening to Roy Andrews right now. He's a homeless epileptic shitbum from Gary, Indiana who's syncopated the noise made by his mouth-frothing, heroin induced seizures to a harmony laid out by a Mongolian throat singer! Got all his recordings on New Vinyl. I learned about him while cruising the Chelsea glory hole scene from a closeted Wall Street trader, right before he busted on my forehead... The guy's just great... Andrews, I mean, not the trader...Well, he was OK too, but seriously, Andrews... Real heavy stuff... Tells it JUST like it is. Least derivative spoken-word stuff I've heard since the great John Henry Jefferson. You know him... John Henry? He was a Pullman Porter / crack addict who played the spoons while plaintively lamenting the injustice of Rhodesian military atrocities committed against the ANC freedom fighters... So much SOUL!"
And when I imagine "your friends," I think of a bed full of stuffed animals who each have a very specific personality.You've also obviously never visited the wmayglt thread. Not only do I not worship Gil Scott Heron, I barely know any of his music. Your description of, "hero worshiping drug-addled negro cultural esoterica," is actually the way I would expect you yourself to enjoy music, if we omit the word negro. If somebody asked me, 'Who on the forum probably listens to obscure, bizarre, outsider folk/poetry made by artists with severe mental and/or drug problems?' My answer would be, possibly BigD or Scram, if anybody. That's not meant as a slight toward either of you, and there's nothing wrong with weird outsider music, but you're just entirely wrong if you think I'm into it. You should have kept going with the limp-wrist fellating, because at least that was funny. I literally don't know anybody who's really into obscure outsider music, or even anybody who's really into Gil Scott-Heron.
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