- published: 27 Apr 2014
- views: 36229
This is a redirect from a title with another method of capitalisation. It leads to the title in accordance with the Wikipedia naming conventions for capitalisation, and can help writing, searching, and international language issues.
Pages linking to any of these redirects may be updated to link directly to the target page. However, do not replace these redirected links with a piped link unless the page is updated for another reason.
For more information, see Category:Redirects from other capitalisations.
Ben Long (born 1945) is an American painter and the grandson of noted artist McKendree Robbins Long.
Reared in a family of artists, writers, professors, and university presidents, Long was as precocious in his artistic ability as he was eager to apply it. At 18, Long followed his father's footsteps to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where he majored in Creative Writing under the guidance of his friend and advisor Reynolds Price. Upon completing his University coursework at the insistence of his advisor Long moved to New York to immerse himself in the study of fine art.
In NYC, Long became a member of the Art Students League of New York, studying under the guidance of such notable artists as Robert Beverly Hale and Frank Mason. Then, in 1969, Long preempted the draft by enlisting in the U.S. Marine Corps. He served just over two tours of duty in Vietnam as a Marine Corps Combat Officer; during his last tour he served as Commander of the Combat Art Team, and much of his work from that period is now on display at the Smithsonian Institution of Washington, D.C.
Welcome to the epicenter,
where we got spring and summer,
but we skip the winter.
Feel free to enter
the zone of the Supertones,
where late into the night we just
rock the microphone.
We lived inside the fault lines
beneath the earth's surface.
Spendin' all our time
readin' books and writin' verses.
The earth stated shakin'
from the noise we were makin'.
We emerged from the rubble,
OC was taken.
With the music came the message,
so we rock the verbs.
Still neutral as a nazi
so you forget what you heard.
We never leave the cross behind,
we use it as a banner,
scripture the vernacular,
Jesus in the grammar.
Throw your hands up,
throw your hands up high!
Tear the roof off and pull down the sky!
Chase the sun back to California,
tears in my eyes.
Tell me where you're from,
the mighty west side!
Let me continue
to lighten up the mood a little.
Never number one,
but never playin' second fiddle.
My thoughts are like a circle,
with Jesus in the middle.
Rhyme for a reason,
I don't rhyme to riddle.
High emotions are like I'm yellin',
no need to be alarmed.
SUPERTONES is what your smellin'.
If lovin' you's a crime,
then baby I'm a felon.
Where we go from here,
my people, there's no tellin'...
Are you ready to go
when it's time to get
back on the road just to see you?
On this narrow path
we got no time to dally.
Follow my lead
and chase the sun back to Cali.