with his trademark

Every amplifier FX on full blast, reverb, tremolo, echo, microphone rock star who sings about his dick using secret coon ass double talk, his Cadillac is a woman's ass, his necktie is a rattlesnake, everything in his world has voodoo element tied into it, he doesn't just fuck your wife or daughter, he HEALS her of her whiteness like a psycho sexual witch doctor, yes his dick is HUGE, but he's such a born stud, his erotic charisma was astrologically proclaimed at birth by a gypsy woman who told his mother he was destined to fuck any woman within one hour, not because he wears diamonds on every finger or for fillings in his front teeth, no you see, his dick is a like a magic hummingbird that hums so loud, its like a giant vibrator with the deafening power of a turbo jet, he uses vast quantities of railroad track and marble tombstones to do things like floss his genitalia and make his eyes  shoot lightning  and reflect the grim reaper's face, his house has chimney made of human skulls, and strings his guitar with 40 miles of barbed wire, he's more than a spook from the swamp, he's got fancy cars, pimp clothes, custom jewelry, even his hat has giant gawdy belt buckle, a big chunk of metal that's symbolic of everything he's about, he's louder than anybody else, therefore anything he says drowns out anything else, except for one thing, HIS guitar, which he makes no attemp to hide that he plays it, not in the manner of Segovia or Chet Atkins, but rather like its his dick, he uses the octave to pull stroke it up and glide stroke it back down, his strings are tuned to a straight across power chord of E, he sings over the low position and then kicks it into high gear sliding up to the high position, playing the same two fret "lick" everywhere his hands touch, the rhythm is his patented African beat no white people have never heard in any song before, its so dark, syncopated,  and unknown to them it has no name in their culture except "the bo diddley beat", 9 times out of 10 any song he does is that same beat with autobiographical lyrics, its all about HIM and further elaborations of either Bo, or Diddley, or both, Bo and/or Diddley, and his manhood, like Diddley DADDY, including what it used to mean before he stole it, basically Diddley means "nothingness", but in the form of feces, used as a boastful putdown, as in, "you don't know diddley", i. e. HIM, in other words, he not only controls all information, he is endowed with wisdom and the TRUTH itself, you probably thought it was in the Bible, but bickering church denominations unanimously agree in unified condemnation of what's REALLY going on when Bo Diddley does his thing... that deafening din of sonic chaos and jungle boogie trance rhythm has never ever meant anything but black magic and the Devil himself... and Diddley describes all this in rhyming verse to his beat, as a setup to his ultimate rhetorical question that

"who do you love?"

then he responds with a slightly different lyrical approach in his defence, and this is the only known thematic variation of his message, his OTHER big hit... "You Can't Judge A book By Looking At The Cover" which he performed without his guitar using only TWO pairs of unamplified maracas.

Another aspect of his music is the melody he uses most of the time, in solfege: mi, mi, sol, mi, re, do, do... followed by do, do, do, la, do, do, or in scale degree intervals (all major scale): 3, 3, 5, 3, 2, 1, 1... 1, 1, 1, 1, -3, 1, 1... The source of this melody is also African, black children sing it when they skip rope, Bo Diddley's phrasing is lifted from standard nursery rhyme.... in AFRICA. It the major pentatonic scale used by ALL "prehistoric" cultures, i. e. the black keys on the piano. these simple notes have their origins in simple integer ratios, like 1/2, 2/3, 3/4, 3/5, 4/5. Bo Diddley's guitar strings are tuned around a "root bass" in exactly those ratios. If the bass moves, it moves by the same degree downward, below the root, and then moves back as the rhythmic figure reaches cadence. The beat is basically 4 dotted eighths, or 3 sixteenths, 3 x 4 = 12, and then 2 eigths, the bompbomp makes an even 16. The 4th dotted eigth is not played, but hangs from the 3rd, so its actually a dotted quarter:
bompa bompa bomp___  a-bomp bomp
in straight sixteenths, that rhythm would be
3-3-6  2-2
and the chorus goes up an octave
8-8-8 7-8
or in the key of E
E-E-E... D-E
E-E-E... D-E
the melody in the key of E:
G# G# B G# F# E E
E E E E -C# E E
the only variation from the
Bo Diddley formula I know of is

note: this song was written by Willie Dixon, in a different rhythm

it uses the root for the verse, on the 4th phrase
the rhythm stops and the voice says the theme,
then it goes to the standard blues IV
back to blues I, proceeding to the V
where the rhythm stops again,
but the voice keeps going
to the IV for one rhythm hit,
voice keeps going
reiterating the same theme

"I look like a farmer, but, I'm a lover...
you can't judge a book by looking at the cover"

I walk 47 miles of barbed wire,
I use a cobra-snake
for a necktie,
I got a brand new house
on the roadside,
Made from rattlesnake hide,
I got a brand new chimney
made on top,
Made out of a human skull,
Now come on take a
walk with me, arlene,
And tell me, who do you love?

Who do you love? (4 times)

Tombstone hand and
a graveyard mine,
Just 22 and I donít mind dying.

Who do you love? (4 times)

I rode around the town,
use a rattlesnake whip,
Take it easy arlene,
donít give me no lip,

Who do you love? (4 times)

Night was dark,
but the sky was blue,
Down the alley,
the ice-wagon flew,
Heard a bump,
and somebody screamed,
You should have heard
just what I seen.

Who do you love? (4 times)

Arlene took me by my hand,
And she said ooowee bo,
you know I understand.

Who do you love? (4 times)

Bo Diddley done had a farm,
On that farm he had
some women,
Women here, women there,
Women, women, women everywhere.

But one little girl
lived on a hill,
She rustled and tustled
like buffalo bill,
One day she decided sheíd
go for a ride,
With a pistol and a
sword by her side.

She rolled right up to
my front door,
Knocked aní knocked ítil
her fist got sore,
When she turned and
walked away,
All I could hear
my baby say:

Hey bo diddley,
oh bo diddley,
Hey bo diddley,
oh bo diddley.

Saw my baby run
across the field,
Slippiní and slidiní
like an automobile,
Holleriní, my baby got
towed away,
Slipped on from me
like a cadillac-8.

Hey bo diddley,
oh bo diddley,
Hey bo diddley,
oh bo diddley.  

Now when I was a little boy,
At the age of five,
I had somethiní in my pocket,
Keep a lot of folks alive.

Now Iím a man,
Made twenty-one,
You know baby,
We can have a lot of fun.

Iím a man,
I spell m-a-n...

All you pretty women,
Stand in line,
I can make love to you baby,
In an hourís time.

Iím a man,
I spell m-a-n...

I goiní back down,
To kansas to
Bring back the
second cousin,
Little john the conqueroo.

Iím a man,
I spell m-a-n...

The line I shoot,
Will never miss,
The way I make
love to íem,
They canít resist.

Iím a man,
I spell m-a-n...

Iím a road runner honey,
Beep! beep!
Iím a road runner honey,
And you canít keep
up with me,
Iím a road runner honey,
And you canít keep
up with me,
Come on, letís race,
Baby baby, you will see,
Here I come,
Beep! beep!

Move over honey,
Let me by,
Move over baby,
Let this man by,
Iím gonna show you baby,
look out your head,
Gonna put some
dirt in your eye,
Here I go!
Oh yea, how am I doin?
Beep! beep!

Take my hand baby,
Iím gonna prove to you
that Iím a road running man,
I wanna show you something,
That Iím the fastest
in the land,
Now let me by,
Beep! beep!

Oh yea, you
said youís fast,
But it donít look like
you gonna last,
Goodbye! Iíve got to
put you down,
Iíll see you some day,
Baby, somewhere
hanginí around.

This is a song about how much Bo Diddley can fuck, encoded in automobile lingo, so they can't accuse him of only having one subject matter, uh huh, sure, guys are always telling girls about how much more they drive their cars around, just to give them fair warning in case they get a little dirt in their eyes when he drives past driving all around.. uh huh, sure... what he's really saying is he fucks a LOT, translation: He has to have a whole community of pussy to fuck, not just one "driver", since he's a Road Runner he drives all around, he drives rings around all the drivers on the highway, so don't take it too personal when you get left in the dust... at least he's honest about it, most entertainers LIE and put on a "decent sense of morality", and then do their cheating on the side in secret. Not Bo Diddley, first of all, he's too famous, he can't sneak around because everyone knows him, they recognize all his magic symbols and identifying logos and trademarks, in fact its his fame that makes all his road running so necessary, hey, its part of his job to go gigging all around, not just around town, AROUND THE WORLD.... and he just naturally has a different fuck, or several different fucks in every locale... he's a ROCK STAR, its not just an exageratted myth, ROCK STARS really do get pussy all around. It sounds too good to be true, but the thing is, Bo Diddley is telling you the TRUTH, its all the "Diddley detractors" and critics claiming its Devil music that are the DECEIVERS. They do it in secret, and the reason they automatically hate Bo Diddley is because he GETS MORE PUSSY THAN THEY DO, and that really really bugs them, because they can't figure out WHY? What has Bo Diddley got that's so fantastic? He's an idiot! He uses nursery rhymes and tunes his guitar to an open chord, it plays the song just by strumming, no frets needed except for "effect" and histrionics and sexual innuendos. Why would all these fine white girls FUCK HIM? Listen to his lyrics you fucking morons. He's telling you and everybody straight to your face, out loud, for everyone to see and hear, you can't possibly miss the hidden meanings in \his subtecxt... do you think its just a fairy tale he's talking about? No. He's being truthful, in a tongue in cheek way, but if you've never been a rock star, then you just don't know. The hype is all mythology, but the part about the pussy is REAL, and so much more real than you'd even imagine. In fact, you sensed that YOUR WIFE wants to fuck him. Admit it. You had a little fight and she just came right out and said it. You let it pass, and you try to pretend you never heard that, but she wasn't lying either. I bet Bo Diddley was very polite and generous to you and your family, but you still hate his guts simply because he gets the poontag and YOU DON'T. that's why he's a rock star and you aren't, you just don't know how to be cool. You fake everything else so thoroughly, but being REAL is something that can't be faked. So you're attempt at coolness doesn't even get off the ground. Why? Because you AREN'T even a neutral form of human ZERO. You are LESS than zero. Why? Because you are FAKE. You put on a social front and you think that is so important to maintain, that normal thing that means "everything is alright" as long as you appear to resemble it on the surface. Here's comes some jigaboo with a square guitar that makes his own normal out of HIS normal, he's just using what he's got, and its less than what you started with, nonetheless, he's just going with it, using his talent and humor to entertain people and ORIGINATING it. That's what they call him , you know... The ORIGINATOR.

Many make that claim, but were they rock starts before Bo Diddley? Hmmm. Did they gig around and have hits on the radio with their own style? Hmmm.? NO. Is it any wonder your wife would fuck him if she just had a chance to do it and not get caught? NO. AND YOU KNOW IT. you don't like rock and roll and rock and roll don't like you, but check out Bo's lyric, "Bo Diddley is a Gunslinger" Even the sherrif is too chickenshit to say a word to Bo Diddley. You know WHY? MUSIC is not against the law, its that simple. FREEDOM OF SPEECH. FREEDOM OF CHOICE. that means is not a bad thing to be totally unique, instead of hopelessly ultranormal. And that's all this whole issue boils down to. read your Bible. Read your Constitution. And you can't handle it, can you? Watch out, asshole, that Bob Diddley is a Gunslinger is more than just a lyric... he always gives a fair warning... unlike you sneak around "putting on a social appearance" types, you Ku Klux Klan, or whatever racist, sexist clan you got, you just can't allow for FREEDOM. You are intellectually and spiritually unequipped to live and let live. Equality is the LAST thing you want. WHY? Because in your heart you know damn well you are LESS THAN ZERO, the bottom of whatever barrel is out there...

i. e. the PUSSY BARREL

Am I right? You're goddamn right I'm right, and that's exactly why gunslingers SHOOT snakes when they show up in the wrong place...  don't forget the house with a chimney made of human skulls... it more than just a nursery rhyme... its a rock song about pussy...  an amplified sex ritual nursery rhyme... that has FACTUAL mythology... a person's life is not someone else's toy to play with... that's why honesty is important... its not just for social appearance... I'm only explaining my theory of why Bo Diddley's guitar is square...