http://www.dhh-ev.de/alt/woody.html
He told Woody he'd be sharing the stage with some party members and some pretty strong left-wing folks. Woody's reputed response was, "Left wing, chicken wing, it don't make no difference to me."
http://utklib.lib.utk.edu/~pelton/lowlife.htm
The joy of the occasion was marred when he found out that in 1941, his brand of leftist politics was not something the hiring personnel even at Bonneville could accept. Kahn hit upon a plan of hiring Guthrie for only 30 days, which was in his power to do. Guthrie responded, "left wing, right wing, chicken wing, I want the job" http://www.ccrh.org/comm/camas/student%20papers/Jane%20Moore.htm The Catbox Times "...stepping on cracks in the corporate order"
You Low Life Son of a Bitch by Woody Guthrie
I've known hundreds of my best friends that cussed every other breath. Few sentences got by without being salted down with good sweaty cuss words lashing the Truth at somebody or something. Truck drivers, cotton pickers, fruit workers, miners, steel hands, longshoremen, sailors, factory hands, store clerks, even the shy and innocent young girls, the daisies that blossom in the dark, the angles that fly out the old brick doors of the School For Girls, and the deptartment store girls, and the chorus girls, and the High School girls - don't kid yourself, the minute they get off to theirself, to where they can cut loose and be natural, their manner of speech turns from ink into lightning and thunder. Thank God, they ain't lost in the caves of Fear and Put On - we got a redblood race of people here. And their hard working words are sharper than a Rich Man's bayonet. That's why we always win. Our word are real. They tell me down in Oklahoma that the Indian language ain't got no cuss words in it. Well, wait til they get a little raggedier and hungrier. They'll work up some. Meanwhile, the American lingo seems to be flavored with 'em. It's a flavor that we come by plumb natural. It's the words of honest to goodness, hard working, hard hitting, hard luck people that don't ever pretend to be something on a stick. They're just what they are and that's all they are. There's folks in America that are up in some sort of silly society where they seldom ever get to do or say a single thing they'd really like to, so they've got it figured out to where you hadn't to rear back and cuss. If they do, they lose their false reputation, or their silly standing, or their empty foothold or something. Anyway, they have been born in a life of greed and put on and they have got there by pretending they're something they ain't, so they never for a minute can be human, natural or down to earth. This book is populated with some mighty good cuss words which ought to be preserved for future generations. These are not vulgar. When you see a thief stealing and you call him a god damned lowdown thief, that's not vulgar, for it's true. However, thieves don't like to be called thieves so they kick you out of church if you make a habit of it. But this book didn't come from the pews of a church. It jumped out of the dry and hungry throats of thirty million people that have been cheated for 10,000 years. I think their honest cussing is the power and dynamite of their language and of their songs as the Bible is a book with cussing on every side: the honest and hungry prophets raving and snorting and ripping into the bellies of the Rich and Powerful Rulers and Lying Priests who beat their people into slavery and dope them with superstitions and false ceremonies and dictate to them what to do, where to go, what to read, who to love, what to eat, what to drink, what to wear, when to work, when to rest and where to bring your money. The prophets cussed and they raved plenty. Because they was out there in the hills and hollers yelling and echoing the Real Voice of the Real People, the poor working class and the farmers and the down and out. You low life trifling bastard, You low life son of a bitch, You selfish, greedy, low down thief, You goddam theiving snitch. You yaller-back, piss-complected skunk, You scheming, conniving That's what I call a greedy rich thief, Now what do you think about that? You money-changing mangy hound, You profit-worshipping dog, You home-wrecking, baby-killing pimp, You swine, you filthy hog. You sissy, prissy cowardly snake, You whole-hog loafer worf, You gambling, framing, cheating cheat, No wait, that ain't enough. You mother-killing, baby starving, Grocery taking, profit making, Haywired, insane, organizer of death, You worshipper of greed and the devil. Who are you and where are you? You stool pigeon for the greedy side, You bodyguard of the bigshot lord, You worshipper of riches and greed You know who you are. Back to Hard Hitting Songs....