you're soaking in it

Facebook has made my blog obsolete

2010-07-10T17:30:00.000-06:00

Oh, well.

holiday...celebrate?

2009-09-22T20:52:00.002-06:00

From an utterly fascinating book I'm reading right now called Lies My Teacher Told Me...this is part of an account from an Arawak leader who had fled from Haiti to Cuba following Christopher Columbus's slave trade, exploitative and genocidal activities shortly after "discovering" the Americas...

Learning that Spaniards were coming, one day (the leader) gathered all his people together to remind them of the persecutions which the Spanish had inflicted on the people of Hispaniola:

"Do you know why they persecute us?"

They replied: "They do it because they are cruel and bad."

"I will tell you why they do it," the (leader) stated, "and it is this - because they have a lord whom they love very much, and I will show him to you."

He held up a small basket made from palms full of gold, and he said, "Here is their lord, whom they serve and adore...To have this lord, they make us suffer, for him they persecute us, for him they have killed our parents, brothers, all our people...Let us not hide this lord from the Christians in any place, for even if we should hide it in our intestines, they would get it out of us..."

Columbus would have been proud of our modern, predatory form of capitalism, I think. It might be slightly more subtle on U.S. soil, but it's certainly not when conducted upon other lands (Iraq, Afghanistan, Central and South America, Africa and so on)...

here's a shocker...

2009-07-13T06:16:00.002-06:00

Amazing how many people can get maimed or killed because of the greed of rich people. It doesn't surprise me at this point, but it still makes me feel sick...

Eager to Tap Iraq's Vast Oil Reserves, Industry Execs Suggested Invasion

finally...

2009-07-11T11:32:00.003-06:00

I've intensely despised Goldman Sachs for years now...going back to when I first learned how ubiquitous (and shady) they were in relation to the growing trend of privatizing roads and highways. And I've been waiting for someone to dig into all their bullshit and incestuous dealings for just as long. Finally, the great Matt Taibbi comes to the rescue. It's a bit long - okay, really long - but definitely worth the read. The first couple paragraphs alone give you a decent idea where he's headed...

The first thing you need to know about Goldman Sachs is that it's everywhere. The world's most powerful investment bank is a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money.

Any attempt to construct a narrative around all the former Goldmanites in influential positions quickly becomes an absurd and pointless exercise, like trying to make a list of everything. What you need to know is the big picture: If America is circling the drain, Goldman Sachs has found a way to be that drain — an extremely unfortunate loophole in the system of Western democratic capitalism, which never foresaw that in a society governed passively by free markets and free elections, organized greed always defeats disorganized democracy.

Oh, and make sure you watch the video interview with Taibbi if you follow the link. He's brilliant at translating intentionally-convoluted processes into a language most of the rest of us in the real world actually speak...

(continued...)

I'm pretty sure all we did was re-elect Bill Clinton...

2009-06-26T14:08:00.003-06:00

...which isn't to say that we shouldn't have, given our choices. But, as I've always said, the problems continue because of the choices we're given...which, in turn, is dictated by a very broken and corrupt system. But I digress.

"Dozens Dead" in U.S. Drone Strike

when all else fails, provoke

2009-06-22T19:29:00.002-06:00

Memo Reveals U.S. Plan to Provoke an Invasion of Iraq

Nothing we all probably didn't already know. Just seems like it's been a while since we've read about it in such stark terms...

I got the ringworm

2009-04-19T18:21:00.002-06:00

Ain't that some shit? Guess that's to be expected, though, considering where I work and what I do. At any rate, I've finally found some time and motivation to attempt keeping up on the blog once again. Yay, cyberworld. I'll get more into my new life here...I don't know. Soon, hopefully.

Anyway, last year was kinda screwy for me in that I didn't know I'd be changing jobs, moving a couple states west, making a whole lot less money, etc. So while I'm usually pretty late in posting my favorite music released the previous year, I'd like to think I have a few decent excuses for how stupidly late this one is. And I know no one cares what I think in this regard. It's just that for some reason feel incomplete if I don't publish my music list every year somehow somewhere.

So here's what I bought last year - and this year, in an effort to catch up - ranked by how I humbly rate them. (And I'd better get on the stick for '09. There already albums released - or soon to be released - by some of my absolute favorites...Sepultura, Meat Puppets, Autolux, Dalek, Goblin Cock, Marmaduke Duke, Kylesa, 50 Foot Wave, St. Vincent, Steve Earle, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, These Arms Are Snakes, The Paper Chase, and one of my favorite Dallasites who I'm just tickled is finally releasing a full-length of her own, Laura Harrell. And I owe the gubment a shitload of money thanks to my move out here last year, so it won't be easy...)

Anyway, here they am...

2008 albums:
Aimee Mann, @#%&! Smilers
Torche, Meanderthal
The Knux, Remind Me in 3 Days...
High On Fire, Death is This Communion**
Blood on the Wall, Liferz
The Sword, Gods of the Earth
Cafe Tacuba, Sino**
Fucked Up, The Chemistry of Common Life
Santogold (self-titled)
Prong, Power of the Damager**
I Love Math, Getting to the Point is Beside it
Cavalera Conspiracy, Inflikted
Public Enemy, How You Sell Soul to a Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul???**
Metallica, Death Magnetic
Radiohead, In Rainbows
The Mars Volta, The Bedlam in Goliath
Motorhead, Motorizer
Tomahawk, Anonymous**
Bob Mould, District Line
Fishbone, Still Stuck in Your Throat**
The Breeders, Mountain Battles
Scars On Broadway (self-titled)
Doug Burr, The Shawl
Smile Smile, Blue Roses

**Actually released in 2007, making this list all the more lame.

adios, amoebas...

2008-05-30T07:50:00.008-06:00

It's been good, Dallas. Mostly.

I'll catch up with you from the next time zone to the left...

PS - Thanks again, Tim. I'll do my best to pay you back.

Fishbone 101

2008-05-22T11:04:00.005-06:00

A while back on Jeff Liles' History of Dallas Music MySpace page, I took it upon myself to leave a brief dissertation on the true greatness of - and sad lack of appreciation for - Fishbone in a comment on one of the ticket stub pictures I gave him.

For those who don't know much about them, there's not much more I can say here that I didn't say in the aforementioned comment...although, I would recommend a quick read through the band's Wikipedia page. So instead, I'll just share this clip. Crank it up if you can. And pay attention to just how tight those guys really are in the midst of the absolute onstage chaos they created. Then imagine experiencing that intensity for, like, two solid hours. It left you exhausted, exhilarated and in awe. At their peak, they were the best band in the world. Past their peak, they were still the best live band in the world. Unbelievable shit.

(Oh, and in case you are wondering who the Kendall Jones both I and Wikipedia reference, he's the guitar player on the left who sings the bridge to "Party at Ground Zero." I hope he's better now because his life was a tragedy for a while...)

Turn the shit up, pogo and enjoy...!

And lest anyone think Fishbone were strictly a ska band, you can check out some of their heavier shit here and here and in this additional live clip below. There wasn't anything those guys couldn't do better than anyone else. The first of those links makes me particularly sad in a way because Kendall wrote and sang the song. However, he'd already fried and left the band by the time it was released and they'd joined the Lollapalooza festival in '93. So in the video, it's keyboard/trombone player Chris Dowd shown singing. But it's a particularly poignant song in hindsight given its religious theme and the "religious" reasons for Kendall leaving / freaking out.

Swim (seriously heavy)...

I have talented friends

2008-05-21T08:50:00.006-06:00

Kate is amazing...

Frank the kitty thinks so too.

you got your chocolate in my peanut butter...

2008-05-19T15:57:00.001-06:00

When greatness collides with greatness...

hee hee...

2008-05-12T13:17:00.002-06:00

Thank you Unfair Park. This makes me giggle so much...

Douchebag.

yay, music

2008-05-06T12:06:00.003-06:00

Unexpectedly big music week for me this week. (Might as well take as much in while I'm here in The Big City while I can. Though, I do have a Meat Puppets show in Flagstaff in July to look forward to.) The agenda...

Tonight - The Breeders at the godforsaken, completely fucking awful venue known as the House of Blues. As you might guess, I hate that place. As someone more creative than me described the place, it's like going through airport security to go see an arena show at a Chili's. Dead on. I hate that place. In case I didn't mention that earlier.

Friday - The Sword, Torche at Lola's in Fort Worth. Haven't been to Lola's, but have heard great things about the place.

Saturday - Blood on the Wall, Record Hop at Lola's.

Should be a good week. Yay, me.

PS - I also intensely hate Ticketmaster. Who else could take a $19.50 ticket and bill you $34-something by the time it's all said and done? Fuckers. But I think I've mentioned that particular hatred before...

genius

2008-05-04T13:17:00.003-06:00

Quote of the day...

It feels like the world is a fuckin' pile of shit that's full of snakes and flies, and we're here to put some frosting on it. - Curt Kirkwood

As, um, negative as that may sound, I love the sentiment behind it. Hee hee...

good read

2008-05-03T15:00:00.006-06:00

This, to me, could just as easily have been written by my friend, the amazing Bill...

I really like a lot of what he had to say (unfortunately, only about a quarter of the interview appears online). And I'm really starting to enjoy it when I'm reminded that not all Christians are like...well, like the majority of Christians I've had to deal with in my life. Always good to keep one's prejudices in check. Or something like that.

sad, I think...

2008-04-30T14:17:00.004-06:00

...that people consider Barack Obama* "inspiring" when people like Mike Gravel (and Dennis Kucinich and Ron Paul and Ralph Nader) are also running for president. Yet those folks get no support from their parties because they speak about actual issues and run their candidacies based upon their own principles and a sincere agenda. Pandering is demanded by both parties and, it could be argued, by most of the voting public who seem to respond only to mindless jingoism and empty plans and promises.

I'm supposed to be taking the year off from my political soapboxing, but I couldn't resist posting this message from my man, Mike...

Two days ago I attended an event to address both one of the most disturbing and overlooked consequences of the Iraq War. Attended by both scientists and Iraq veterans, I heard how depleted-uranium weapons and ammunition have turned Iraq into a nation littered with radioactive fallout. We gathered across the street from General Dynamics in Scranton, PA-a war profiteer whose profits have spiked in the wake of the illegal Iraq War. The Nation magazine estimates over 11,000 US soldiers to have been killed from exposure to uranium since the first Iraq War. That does not even address the vast destruction to the Iraqi people and their country. Onset of cancer, permanent respiratory and neurological conditions, deformities in the children of our servicemen-make no mistake: Depleted-Uranium (DU) is the Agent Orange of the Iraq War.

How did we get here, that our industries are poisoning and killing our own troops? The fundamental problem is pervasive and the result of our militarized culture. On Earth Day, it was clearer than ever that we cannot sufficiently tackle the myriad environmental problems we face without bringing the Military-Industrial-Complex to heel. The links between nuclear power (against which I fought and succeeded a generation ago) and our malignant warfare industry is undeniable and inextricable.

Yet it is very possible to shake the military-industrial-complex's grip on our society. It will only come from empowering the people with The National Initiative. Our Congress is controlled by this complex lock, stock and barrel, and we have seen both the Democrats and Republicans dissolve into war parties, neither offering a definitive plan to end the War in Iraq. Nor will they end American Imperialism, which will ultimately bring future wars, havoc and destruction to the innocent. I count our delicate planet and natural world among those innocent victims.

I adamantly believe that, as a nation, we can get off of gasoline in 5 years, and the world can get off of carbon in 10. We have such great ability and capacity, yet we are squandering our treasure and resources on war and killing. I remember how American Industry could produce only one ship per year in 1941. Three years later, heeding the call to WWII, it was one per week. That same spark is possible to heal the environment, if we turn the military-industrial-complex on its head. Our society's massive abilities and capacities have been hijacked by war, but we can reclaim them for limitless sources of innovation. Zero-emissions transportation, revitalized infrastructure and mass transit system to counter congestion and spur real productivity-these possibilities go overlooked when we foolishly wage wars for finite, carbon-spewing fossil fuels. Rather, we must harness the resources before our eyes: the sun, wind, and the people's creativity.

Dwight Eisenhower, who predicted the military-industrial-complex, said that "one day, the people will want peace so badly that they will push the government aside." That reality is before us by unleashing the creativity of the American people with The National Initiative. Today, I believe in that possibility more than ever.

*PS - Not that this has anything to do with the above sentiments from Senator Gravel, but am I the only person who actually agrees with most (not all, but most) of what Obama's "spiritual advisor," the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, has had to say...?

true, 'dat

2008-04-29T08:09:00.003-06:00

Here's a concept I was trying to explain to someone a few months ago without much success. Possibly because it's said more eloquently here...

Tell me whom you love, and I will tell you who you are. - Houssaye

"I know what you mean about those fins..."

2008-04-25T15:57:00.002-06:00

This is...fascinating, hilarious, scary, mind-boggling...

Can't wait for the book to come out.

Utah-bound (yet another long-ass post)

2008-04-16T16:12:00.004-06:00

Irony is hitting me from all sides at the moment. Maybe not irony in the most correct definition, but at least something similar to what Alanis Morissette had in mind (rain on your wedding day, foreign hair on your spaghetti plate, etc.). Actually, it's probably somewhere in between...something my friend Amber used to refer to as "bumper cars." For example, Amber just moved to New Orleans a couple weeks ago. I just returned from there, fresh and smooth as a newborn baby's unemployed ass, in February with three kitties for my new-ish apartment and thoughts of visiting her and ARNO on a somewhat regular basis.

I like my new-ish apartment. A lot. And I've spent a lot of time getting to know it along with the three kitties in this past month. That's the most kick-ass-est thing about unemployment...it affords you plenty of time to be humped over in your jammie pants in front of your computer with a small, black and white cat perched on your back watching birds outside the window. There's also lots of time to be spent on YouTube watching completely fascinating videos of bands you really love - or just know about, in many cases - but never got to see live and/or in their heydays (ladies and gentlemen - Bikini Kill...and Kiss...and Tool...and Helmet...and Nashville Pussy...and Deep Purple...and Blue Cheer...and Mr. Bungle...and clips from the never-released Rolling Stones flick, "Cocksucker Blues"...I've truly only scratched the surface, I'm sure). I reintroduced myself to the beguiling and dangerous world of napping. Never been much of a fan of napping for the most part. But for a good week or so I was napping a completely unacceptable amount. I'll always take my conscious mind over my unconscious (or subconscious). But the lure of the nap when you're annoyed or disappointed or stressed...oh, sweet nap...easily the most convenient form of escapism. And the dangerous part for me is, a) that I have somewhat depressive tendencies to start with; and, b) the fact that I cannot comprehend moderation at all...not a good combination of personality traits. It's a recipe for clinical depression, actually. So...ixnay on the apnays. But there's also reading. You can do lots of reading when you ain't got no job. It's loads of fun. Yeah, the "no steady source of income" thing sucks a ball or two, but it's otherwise a pretty nifty lifestyle. To paraphrase Ferris Bueller, if you have the means, I highly recommend it.

Anyway, Tim and I both loved the new place pretty much immediately. We'd been stuck in a rut at the old apartment. The old place was cool, but the novelty wears off after ten years...and with stuff falling apart or not working and walls permanently stained with candle soot. I had no idea, though, how much change I was in for when I made that move. You jack with one thing, make one significant change...BOOM!...all kinds of (seemingly) unrelated hell breaks loose. Amber would be doing a delighted happy dance in front of me, clapping her hands and singing "bumper cars!" And I, of course, would be denying the more spiritual implications behind her theories. I'm a steadfast, utterly devout follower of the religion of Shit Happens. Amber and most of my friends believe - to varying degrees - that everything happens for a reason. I can think of no other platitude that makes my eyes immediately roll as quickly as that one. Because it's a fucking cop-out philosophy, mainly...the ideal that certain things are or are not "meant to be." Whatever. The only thing I really subscribe to with any sincerity is the notion that nothing happens for a reason (or everything happens for no reason...take your pick). Shit happens. Amen.

That's not to say, however, that many actions and events don't influence other reactions or events. Far from it. I just believe that coincidence is a more powerful and believable force than the idea that some incomprehensible purpose is driving the activities and/or mental/physical processes in this earthly dimension. It's just my thing.

As is my tendency, though, I've veered a bit off topic here. Back to the "loving the new place" subject. The place in question is in a very old building (1920s-ish) that, given the block on which it sits, could not look any more incongruent than if it were on the side of a mountain. It's a converted Spanish-style mansion sitting directly in between some sort of mid-rise commercial building and a group of stores along Oak Lawn. It's the only residential building on this block; there's even a fucking Starbucks across the street. Not that that's a unique occurrence. But even when I was moving in, I kept wondering if the days were numbered for this place. These days in Dallas, if you even think of looking at a building with some sort of historic sentiment in your head, you might as well paint a bulls-eye upon which somebody can take aim with a wrecking ball. On the western side of Oak Lawn, Rawlins Street is virtually entirely residential and makes for a pretty lovely drive because almost all the buildings are old mansions from various eras converted into apartments such as my own. Not on my block, though. (Feel free to check out the views from the nifty second-floor patio area here...)

At any rate, I had a couple interviews with a really cool company - doing pretty much what I've been doing the past fifteen years, work-wise - here in Dallas shortly after getting shitcanned from my old job. I don't know if I actually got the job - I know I was one of two finalists. But I think I discovered that the voicemail service for the landline I've been using since I moved in has never worked. Hasn't been an issue to this point because I mostly use my cell phone or email, anyway. But I know some numbers have shown up on the caller ID, listing folks from whom I'd expect a message of some sort awaiting me. It doesn't really matter now - and I kinda like not knowing whether I got the other gig or not - because something more fitting came along. Or, I should say, I came back to it.

The person who would have been my boss at this new job in Dallas had a sign in his office that read, "What would you do if you knew you could not fail?" I'm sure that's a well-established platitude with some folks somewhere, but I'd never considered it before. Shortly after seeing the aforementioned sign, I read the following by Barry Lopez from a recent issue of National Geographic magazine...

"My guess would be that someone someday will trace the roots of modern human loneliness to a loss of intimacy with place, to our many breaks with the physical Earth. We are not out there much anymore. Even when we are, we are often too quick to take things in. A member of the group who insists on lingering is 'holding everyone else up.' I think about this kind of detachment from the physical world frequently, because human beings, generally, seem to long for a specific place, a certain geography that gives them a sense of well-being.

"When I was traveling regularly in the Arctic, I routinely asked Yupik, Inupiat, and Inuit how they characterized people from the civilization of which I was a part. 'Lonely' was a response I heard with discomfiting frequency. The cure for loneliness, I have come to understand, is not more socializing. It's achieving and maintaining close friendships. The trust that characterizes that kind of friendship allows one to be vulnerable, to discuss problems that resist a solution, for example, without having to risk being judged or dismissed. I bring this up because the desire I experience most keenly, when I travel in landscapes like the ones made so evocative here, is for intimacy. I have learned that I will not experience the exhilaration intimacy brings unless I become vulnerable to the place, unless I come to a landscape without judgments, unless I trust that the place is indifferent to me. The practice I strive for when I travel is to meet the land as if it were a person. To encounter it as if it were as deep in its meaning as human personality. I wait for it to speak..."

I think he's right, myself. I think it's what's always drawn me to desert locales and is behind the reason I usually feel most inspired when I'm in the most desolate areas I can find. At any rate, the message on the sign and the words from Barry Lopez conspire in my case to lead me back to Best Friends. Allow me to elaborate, please. (As an enormous, you've-got-to-be-kidding groan takes shape somewhere in cyberspace...)

I decided in the summer of 2005 that I needed to move out west. I had so much fun and felt so alive during the road trip I took in spring of that year to see the dual rarities of blooming wildflowers and a temporary lake in Death Valley that I even traded in my Toyota Corolla for an Xterra. Having damn near destroyed the Corolla while making my way to the Racetrack Playa in Death Valley, I knew I needed a truck of some sort. Yes, SUV Guilt is a bitch for a liberal, but dammit...I want to see stuff that can be hard to get to sometimes. So, screw the car...gimme a truck. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I love the desert - my favorite place in the world is Death Valley - and I wanted to find a job and a place to live that would situate me in the middle of the southwestern U.S. Preferably in an area that wasn't ungodly hot like, say, Phoenix. I realized Flagstaff would be the perfect location because it's a nice little town in a cool (literally...as in regards to climate) area in Arizona, and I'd be a day's drive from all my favorite spots. For the next few months I spent all my mental energy trying to get myself relocated to Flagstaff.

Not so easy, as it turns out. For one thing, the cost of living there is pretty high. More problematic, though, is the fact that you pretty much are required to have two master's degrees and a Nobel Prize to get any kind of job in that fucking town. It's ridiculous. They have three main employers, two of whom can hire you if you want to have a warehouse job, and the other who will only hire you if you are The Smartest Person Who Has Ever Lived. Fuckity.

Needless to say, I started expanding my options to include smaller towns in central/northern Arizona and even looked at far southern Utah as possible candidates for the big bag of nothing that I had to offer. I happened upon a small town in Utah called Kanab. When researching the town, I discovered it was the home for the largest no-kill animal sanctuary in the United States. As you might guess, angels sang and...well, shit like that. I immediately got my friend Ginger to print me off a few copies of Best Friends job applications (couldn't do that sort of thing at work and didn't have the capabilities to do so at home) and wasted little time in firing off applications to them for at least three different positions. Then about two weeks later, Hurricane Katrina absolutely destroyed the gulf coast, New Orleans in particular, and any respect most of us had for our government's ability to prepare for and respond to natural disasters.

Suffice it to say, everyone's attention was focused on the gulf region, with Best Friends really leading the way with regard to animal welfare in the area. I was originally supposed to volunteer down there with the ASPCA and at least one other animal organization. After those opportunities fell through, it was almost by accident that I got in touch with Best Friends, who told me they could use my assistance. I headed down there for a little over a week in October followed by a second week in December...meeting the best friend I've ever had, my dear Wendy, in the process. As I've said before on this blog, those experiences with Best Friends in Tylertown, Mississippi, were nothing short of life-changing.

Once Best Friends had more or less pulled out of Tylertown and New Orleans, I got an invitation to do a work evaluation with BF in Kanab (also thanks in no small part to some of the group's founders, whom I'd met and pestered during my volunteer stints). In April of 2006, I spent a week in Kanab and was offered a position as Cat Caregiver. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to decline; financially, there was absolutely no way I could make it work. To say that the pay is low there would be an understatement. But not an insult or negative observation, as nobody should want or expect the pay at any non-profit to be good. They need to be spending their money on their objectives after all, right? And nobody goes to work for non-profit organizations to make money anyway. Unfortunately, I was just nowhere near being in the kind of shape to take on that kind of change in financial lifestyle...too much debt, too many payments, etc. Like most American consumers, I'd worked myself into a position that wasn't easy to escape; the more money you make, the more money you spend, the more obligations you have to fulfill. In short, I was fucked.

Fast-forward to the second half of 2007. The atmosphere at my workplace had become absolutely unbearable...the worst I'd experienced in my fifteen-year tenure there. I hated those people; most of us hated those people. And they didn't look kindly upon us. Every day there was more insulting, oppressive and offensive than the day before. I knew when they laid me off in February that they were doing me a favor. I just had no idea how big that favor would become.

I spent the first month or so firing off resumes to anyone and everyone. One day, however, during one of my usual cleaning-up-after-messy-kitty rituals, it occurred to me: two years ago, I was bending over backward to try and get myself into a position where I could be doing this very thing (or something like it) for a company I think the world of in a part of the world I was dying to move myself to. I told Best Friends when I declined their first offer that I would do my best to get myself where I could accept a job from them. I hadn't, of course...I settled back into my safe, somewhat comfortable rut and plodded along. But now here I was - exactly where I needed to be without having even realized it.

I'd been collecting unemployment benefits since the layoff, but I knew I was going to have to dip into the 401k at some point to make ends meet. Why not really dip into the 401k, pay off all the debts, pay off the truck, etc., and get myself to where I could make the move out to Utah...do what I really love in a place I really love for a group of people I really love?

I ran the idea past Wendy (my financial advisor) and my folks (my reality advisors) to make sure my idea wasn't too irresponsible or stupid. Everyone was on board. This made me happy.

I just got back last week from another two-week work evaluation with Best Friends. (You can see some pics of the place if you'd like here.) They offered the gig again. I accepted. Life is good. Scary and intimidating for the time being, but good.

I'm scheduled to move out to Kanab by the last week in May. The apartment I love so much I will leave behind. It has become for me merely a transitional place of residence. My world turned inside out during the six-plus months I've lived here. I lost my dear friend...my beautiful, wonderful companion Tim. I lost a very close friend who revealed herself to be not quite the good and trustworthy friend I'd made her out to be after all. I lost a job of fifteen years (that I mostly hated). I turned forty. Amber, my close friend for so many years who saw me through sobriety, the onset of panic disorder and some level of depression, has moved to New Orleans. Though, in truth, our friendship has been slowly eroding for some time now...just kind of a natural process that sometimes happens. Things will never be the same. But that's for better and worse. And it's the way things should be, really, if a person is attempting to evolve and move in a new direction. I admit, I was failing badly at doing so prior to my move to the new place here in Oak Lawn. Maybe I should be a little embarrassed by that, but instead I find myself feeling really lucky to have my ass kicked so hard that it hopefully, finally woke me up a bit and forced me to look at my life and where I've put myself.

I've made some really great friends in the process of losing so much. Cindy and Kate have been wonderful supporters...better than I probably deserve. Older friends like Wendy, Ginger, Elena, Erin and Crispin - along with my family - have been predictably supportive in ways I hope to never take for granted. My new feline friends - Frank, Mack and Mary (named after some of the Best Friends folks I got to know in Tylertown) - have been a blessing.

Life is good. Scary and intimidating, but good.

Wish me luck, if you don't mind, on my new adventures. I feel wonderful about it all. And I finally feel, like the Doug Burr lyric currently at the top of this blog, that I've found that reason to sing that I've been looking for for such a long time. All I've ever wanted for myself is to do good, help others, and be proud of my life while I'm here. I hope I've finally found the road that will take me there.

But if not, if it doesn't work out and I fuck the whole thing up...at least I'm giving it a shot. To finish with another great lyric - this one courtesy of the amazing Curt Kirkwood...

Slipping slowly up the rock slide, one thing always seems apparent...
If the climb becomes too much, I can always turn around

off to Utah...

2008-03-27T02:48:00.000-06:00

...wish me luck!

more death and other goodness from The Sun

2008-03-24T09:05:00.004-06:00

From the December 2007 issue of The Sun magazine...

Burrow into what's interesting - in you, and in everyone else. Every moment on the planet has juice to yield. Anything is interesting if you truly want to know about it. Staying awake to that (is) the key to staying alive. - from The Wizard in the Closet, by Heather Sellers

...my resistance to love. I'd often put distance between myself and others as a way to keep from feeling trapped or getting hurt. I'd delivered wearying criticisms of people I thought were less than perfect, as if I were any better than them. Living like that had been a long, hard battle with many casualties, the most wounded sometimes being me. I think that during all those silent-meditation sessions; in all the time I'd spent listening to the wisdom of renowned teachers, theologians, and sages; in all the millions of words I'd read in profound spiritual tracts, I'd been trying to learn how to love. But no amount of meditation or yoga or studies of scriptures could have given me that. (Insert name here)'s death put me in touch with one of the highest orders of human existence: to love others as though we are dying all the time, because the plain truth of the matter is that we are. - from My Marital Status, by James Kullander

And from the "Sunbeams" section...

Stop reading for a moment, and imagine that you are going to die in one minute. The last things you are going to experience are reading these pages, sitting in this room, thinking and feeling what you are thinking and feeling right now. This is the end of your life... You have no time to write a note or make a phone call. All you can do is experience what is, right now. This is a very simple exercise, but it is quite profound. It brings you into presence very quickly. You stop fighting, you stop needing, you stop being concerned with physical comfort, you stop wanting, you stop achieving, and you stop maintaining. Enlightenment, attainment, realization all become meaningless. You are just present. - Ken McLeod

why god made the internets

2008-03-22T14:21:00.002-06:00

I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard. I was in tears...

This is why it pays to check in on Gordo's site every once in a while.

Cindy's favorite instrument

2008-03-20T08:27:00.004-06:00

I had forgotten about the "manager" worming her way onstage with a tambourine. Eerily familiar and very funny...

fun for unemployed people

2008-03-08T08:11:00.003-06:00

As Wendy said to me the other day, "YouTube is the devil." If you are a geek of any kind, you can lose all sense of time and/or responsibility with your diversion of choice. Since I'm a music geek, that's how I spend my time whenever I choose to cross over to the dark side.

A perfect example is this little gem I came across by accident the other day. One of the most memorable shows I ever saw in my adolescence was Black Sabbath in 1982. In fact, shockingly now that I stop to think about it, it's the only time I ever saw Sabbath live...and it almost doesn't count because it was the Dio/Appice lineup. Anyway, I found this clip - not from the show I saw but a London show from that same tour. The sound is atrocious, but it's so cool for me to witness the visuals in motion from that show and that song. It may look ridiculous now, but trust me...if you were a little metal dude in junior high in the early 80s, it did not get any cooler than this...

All the gushing over that show aside, though, this is still the only Sabbath that counts as far as I'm concerned. Great footage and sound quality, too...

One of the fun things about some of the folks at Unfair Park is that they can be nostalgia geeks just like me. They dug these clips up the other day from an old Genesis show in Dallas that I was definitely not at but would have loved. Actually, I have to admit still liking a great deal of old Genesis stuff...and I think I've figured out why: out of all those bands from 70s-80s prog-rock heyday, Genesis was probably the least pretentious of the bunch. Which is a back-handed compliment, for sure. But they were also the least concerned with showing off flashy, self-indulgent musicianship in favor of focusing on songs. A novel concept in the prog world. But how many other bands from that genre willingly spared their audiences from those ridiculous twenty-minute solos that folks like Carl Palmer, Chris Squire or Rick Wakeman would never dream of? And it's not as if Genesis couldn't have diddled us to death if they'd have wanted to. That's actually the neatest part of these clips...being reminded how truly great they all were as musicians without having to witness them beat us over the heads with solos and stupid shit like that. I had forgotten (or maybe never knew) that the band had ever toured with Steve Hackett playing guitar after Peter Gabriel left. It's also fun to watch to be reminded of what a truly extraordinary drummer Phil Collins was (I personally rank him in the all-time top five or so). And then there's Tony Banks, who I still think is perhaps the most underrated keyboard player from that time. Like the rest of the band, he wasn't flashy and he didn't play for the sake of making himself look good...he played what was needed for the songs. Back when I was first playing guitar, I remember deciding I wanted to play guitar the way Tony Banks played keyboards. It was a style that was concise and melodic...it functioned as a "lead" instrument without being overly obnoxious about it...

But whatever. I'm babbling. Just watch the shit.

And then I stumbled across this...one of my favorite songs from one of my all-time favorite albums (Faith No More's Angel Dust). I had no idea they ever made a video for this song, but it's wonderful...may be the greatest video I've seen years. Fucking hilarious.

fascinating

2008-03-04T08:43:00.008-06:00

Frank and Mack (and Mary, when she's around) are completely fascinated with my printer. They simply cannot wrap their heads around what's occurring...funky clicks and noises and then a piece of paper spitting out. Of course, if you asked me to explain the process, I couldn't do much better than the kitters...

Being that Mack is thus far the only kitty who has taken to sitting on my lap (and my arm, shoulder, head, back, etc...but the other two are making progress in that department; I'm guessing Frank will join the lap fun soon, with Mary hopefully not far behind), he's also quite fascinated with my blingage. Dude, it's hangy-down and jingly. Duh.

Myself, I'm just fascinated with this image. Bats are just the coolest critters on Earth. So there.

faces of war

2008-03-04T05:26:00.009-06:00

God bless America...

In case the offensiveness of this photo doesn't jump out at you too quickly, this would be a severed human head these brave American soldiers are posing with. While I get the impression that he's perhaps not the most useful tool in the shed, soldier Osborne (grinning idiot on the right) seems particularly pleased with his situation. (Nevermind the fact that the severed head was originally attached to the body of a person considered an ally...at the moment, anyway...oops.) I hope his parents are proud. Osborne's parents, I mean. One would assume the deceased had no parents, friends or family of his own, right? He's not human or anything, he's a fucking head! Let's play soccer with it! It'll be funny, right...?

So how do you suppose Americans would be reacting were the nationalities in this photo reversed? That would be the kind of PR the neocons would absolutely salivate over...

I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me...

2008-02-23T12:45:00.033-06:00

(...get crazy with the Cheez Whiz)

I'm sure I will look back upon these past few months as The Winter of my Discontent. Or The Winter That Saw Fit to Kick me in the Nuts Repeatedly for No Particular Reason. Let's take inventory, shall we...?

In early December, my very beloved feline companion, Tim, passed away. I'm still heartbroken over losing him and having not done more to prevent his passing. But then I've always been a champion at the art of self-flagellation.

Within days of Tim's passing, I also found myself having lost a very close human friend as well. I'll refrain from getting into the details behind that because I still can't do so without sounding bitter...though, I am working toward coming to terms with the latter "loss."

At any rate, it was a big punch in the gut to lose the presence of those two souls in my life so suddenly. Either one by itself would have been bad enough, but for both experiences to occur seemingly in tandem was particularly upsetting. For a few weeks - and Wendy and Cindy can attest to this - I barely knew the difference between up versus down, black versus white, etc. I felt like somebody'd shoved me into some room where this really ugly alternate universe existed. Bless them both for enduring my whiny second-guessing during that period...

Next up was that most unpleasant of milestone-birthdays (at least for the next decade): the Big Four Oh. There isn't anything I can say about this occasion that somebody else hasn't already said so I'm not gonna bother. I just handled the birthday itself the same way I usually observe it...by ignoring it. Helped tremendously that the Super Bowl was going down on the same day (and even more that it turned out to be a damn good game).

But then came the big shocker: after more than fifteen years at the same job (pretty impressive - or depressive - when you consider both my age and the times), I became introduced to the exciting world of unemployment. On the one hand, it was pretty great because I've been trying to get away from those motherfuckers for years, and the atmosphere at that place had become increasingly grim, oppressive and insulting. But on the other hand, it would have been a hell of a lot more enjoyable if I'd have beaten them to the "fuck off" punch. I had a damn good collection of words compiled for my resignation letter that I was really looking forward to using...but, shit happens. And so now I spend a great deal of my time poking around for new jobs online. (If anyone has any leads or ideas, please don't hesitate to pass them my way!)

As it happens, the aforementioned shocker happened the day before I was scheduled to trek down to New Orleans to spend some time with Animal Rescue New Orleans before returning to Dallas with my new feline friends (see image at left) - themselves rescued strays born since Katrina in one of the many neighborhoods, Lakeview, still in recovery from the storm. (One of the more affluent neighborhoods, as it turns out...the cats were found living underneath the slab of a house next door to one of the New Orleans Saints players. So they totally scoreboard me in terms of lifestyle history. Well, except for the whole "homeless and living under the slab of a destroyed house" thing.)

Anyway, I proceeded with the plan as scheduled and returned on Monday with my new roommates and with five other piggybackers going to some Dallas-area foster groups. I had visions of spending ten hours driving with my soundtrack being a constant cacophony of disgruntled or anxious meowing, but almost everyone slept the entire time. Other than exchanging text messages with Wendy, it was actually one of the more peaceful road trips I've ever experienced.

So far, it's been a much easier transition for them than I had any reason to expect it to be. Two of them (Frank, at top; Mary, below) could very easily be described as being "semi-feral" (and were described thusly by the ARNO folks and the cats' fosters in the French Quarter). And the third, now christened Mack (at bottom) is pretty much just a spazz who's almost instantly social in any situation and requires no socialization effort whatsoever. But Frank and Mary and I have made tons of progress (another benefit to unemployment - lots of extra time spent on socializing my new friends) and I think, other than being a bit shy when new folks come around, they'll be living like "normal" cats in a "normal" household in no time. It's been educational, entertaining, and just a blast in general.

And so I would like to take this opportunity to introduce you to my new pals. If you're not a fan of cats, just fight through it, please. But if you are, prepare for copious amounts of cuteness and "aww" moments to ensue...

See Frank sitting next to my printer on the nightstand in the bedroom watching the birds outside. He loves watching birds. Actually, he loves pretty much any activity that doesn't require...well, activity. (He's a bit on the pudgy side, so there will be some diet and exercise in his future. Not that I have room to make negative statements in that regard...)

See Mack joining Frank for more birdwatching...this time in the living room.

The fact that all three are siblings was obviously quite helpful in getting them acclimated to their new home. If anyone's experiencing any anxiety (usually Mary who, in addition to having far and away the most complex personality, will take the longest to overcome any skittishness and fearful behavior), they all have one another to turn to and/or lean on. Which, as you can see, they do pretty frequently.

There are also plenty of Kodak moments like this last one. Frank usually takes on a "protective" posture or appearance in scenes like these, but that's really only by default. Being the resident large, chunky dude - at least in comparison to the other two - he's really not so much protecting as he is just being lazy. Either way, it's nice to see around the house.

Anyway, that's what I've been up to lately...minding new feline friends when not trolling for jobs online. Oh, and by the way...if there's anyone out there who doesn't understand the pain of losing an animal companion or the joy of gaining new animal companions, I have two words for you: fuck you. (Yes, I have someone specific in mind, but, no, I'm not identifying that person.) People who don't like animals or who don't react with empathy toward either humans or non-humans in the aforementioned scenarios are not to be trusted. Period. You can know everything you need to know about a person based on his or her attitude toward animals. That's one of the simpler rules of life that I've never seen disproved. But I digress.

(Oh, and also...if anyone happens to find themselves sitting on an extra ticket for the Ace Frehley show at HOB tomorrow night, please feel free to hook an unemployed brotha up...!)

Have a nice day...from the new and improved acs household.

music good...poverty bad

2008-02-17T14:41:00.006-06:00

Well, I do this every year...mostly for my own amusement. And I'm always late putting this together every year...mostly because I have to play catch-up and buy a bunch of CDs that I didn't get a chance to buy before the end of the calendar year.

However, personal dramas have given way to financial dramas...so much so that, at least for the near future, "disposable income" will be but a quaint idea (becoming unemployed will do that to you). So all those usual rushed purchases unfortunately just ain't gonna get purchased. I wish I could think of genitalia large enough for this situation to suck. But...whatever.

So here are my favorite records from 2007. 'Twas a damn good year, musically. However, I'm still inviting the past year to suck my ass for personal reasons...

Non-local artists:

1. Biffy Clyro, Puzzle - They're my favorite band on the planet so, unless they just really fuck up royally, they'll always take home top prize.

2. Steve Earle, Washington Square Serenade - Lordy, I have missed the Steve Earle that is capable of writing songs like these. His past couple records have been among my least favorite from him, just because he'd been bending over backward to beat his political agenda into our ears. And while I agree with his politics and revere him like few others because of who he is and what he stands for, I very much prefer when he doesn't try so hard. Because, frankly, he doesn't need to. He's a fucking genius...period. Easily his best record since The Mountain, which was his best record since El Corazon, which was his best record. Wonderful stuff.

3. M.I.A., Kala - I think she's got the coolest taste in sampling since the very early days of the Beastie Boys or De La Soul. And she's got a bigger set of balls than anyone else I can think of in modern music...along with the talent to make them useful.

4. Ha Ha Tonka, Buckle in the Bible Belt - Now this was a surprise. Not so much that it's as good as it is, but that it's a debut record as good as it is. Having seen them open for the Meat Puppets this past summer, I can also testify that they're even better as a live act. And that is scary.

5. Kristin Hersh, Learn to Sing Like a Star - Probably the artist at the top of my musical heroes list...she never fails to inspire and amaze me. The music is top-notch - somewhere between her usually-quiet solo work and her noisier Throwing Muses stuff - and the lyrics, as always, are absolute genius. She thinks and writes in a way I'll never fully grasp. I wish I could borrow her mind for a day.

6. Queens of the Stone Age, Era Vulgaris - The last record was really great, though there was something oddly disappointing in it at the same time. Fortunately, whatever weirdness that was behind that vibe is missing from Era Vulgaris...so it's just a rockin' piece from start to finish. It amazes me that QOTSA has now exceeded the output and lifespan of Kyuss. Something about that is just wrong on a certain level...but I won't bitch.

7. Meat Puppets, Rise to Your Knees - I think a professional critic somewhere described this record as being more of a "getting back on our feet" affair than what we might otherwise expect from the reunited Kirkwood brothers...and that's pretty accurate. There are undoubtedly some terrific songs on here, but there are also things worth nitpicking over...like the fact that more than a few song tempos are too slow, and the continuing, stupefying tendency that Curt Kirkwood has in choosing the most boring, unimaginative drummers he can possibly find. Derrick Bostrom was never John Bohnam, but Shandon Sahm first and now Ted Marcus sure make him seem that way. But the Meat Puppets have always been Curt's show, anyway, which is as it should be.

8. PJ Harvey, White Chalk - Polly continues her trend of creating music that makes you feel like you’re in a confession booth with her. She's always been one of my favorite guitar players so I'm sure I'll come to think of this as her "piano album." Part of her brilliance, though, is that no matter how she chooses to deliver a song, the end result will be awesome.

9. Low, Drums and Guns - An absolutely hypnotic and fascinating band and this album in particular careens back and forth between sometimes incongruous extremes; at times haunting, amusing, disturbing, creepy and beautiful. Similar to Polly's record in that such amazing atmospherics are created based as much on silence as instrumentation. Or something like that.

10. Saul Williams, The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of NiggyTardust! - Very unfortunately titled, but brilliant in spots. Great sampling along with terrific, surprisingly restrained production from Trent Reznor, and biting lyrics from one of this era's true poets. Shame I'm gonna have to miss his upcoming show in Dallas, though...

11. Bjork, Volta - It's good to see her getting a little bit closer back to what passes for "traditional" Bjork music, although it's still a bit weak. There's some Asian-style instrumentation here and there that doesn't do much for me. And on two songs she's singing with some dude who...I have no idea who he is or where he came from, but he may be the most unappealing vocalist I've ever heard. Try to imagine a prissier-sounding Morrisey channeling Mr. Rogers while giving enunciation lessons...it's just foul. Make him go away, whoever he is...

12. Johnette Napolitano, Scarred - I still love Johnette, though my love is starting to wane. She's kinda like Iggy Pop in that when she cranks out a good lyric, it can be really good. But when she swings and misses, she really misses. And subtlety has never been her strong suit.

13. Pig Destroyer, Phantom Limb - Now, you'd think with the name Pig Destroyer you can't possibly go wrong, right? Well, you would if you were me, anyway. And you'd be incorrect either way. This band is actually quite revered among thrash-metallurgists, from the press I've seen. But this was honestly too much for me to take. Or too little...I'm not sure. At least with even the thrashiest of thrashers, there's at least something to grab hold of somewhere...a riff or a beat or perhaps the slightest hint of melody. But I'll be damned if I could find anything on here like this. It just sounded like forty minutes of scrambled ideas that might have made decent pieces of songs, but not actual songs themselves. Or maybe I'm just getting old...

And those above, unfortunately, were the only releases from last year I was able to get to before the money up and left. Still more unfortunate is the list of records that I wasn't able to get to...many of whom are among my absolute favorite artists. Just on the off chance that anyone feels like taking pity on me or is a really good shoplifter, here's what I couldn't get my hands on:

From the "fuckity-fuck-fuck!" group...
Café Tacuba, Sino
Public Enemy, How You Sell Soul To A Souless People Who Sold Their Soul
Radiohead, In Rainbows
The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s, Is Is (EP)
Tomahawk, Anonymous
Son Volt, The Search
Prong, Power Of The Damager
Fishbone, Still Stuck in Your Throat

From the "not quite sure, but most likely fuckity-fuck!" group...
Dalek, Abandoned Language
Black Francis, Bluefinger
Imperial Teen, The Hair The TV The Baby And The Band
High On Fire, Death Is This Communion
Thurston Moore, Trees Outside the Academy
Crowded House, Time On Earth
Gogol Bordello, Super Taranta!
The White Stripes, Icky Thump

And from the "flip a coin 'cause the last record sucked" group...
The Donnas, Bitchin’
Fu Manchu, We Must Obey

And then there's the (probably unnecessary) category of local-ish music. Of the few I was able to get to, here what I thunk...

Non-non-local artists:

1. Doug Burr, On Promenade - He's been far and away my favorite local live act since the first time I saw him...which might seem like a weird declaration. But just listen. And watch, if you can. My jaw drops every time. He's just flat amazing.

2. Red Monroe, ¡Policia! ¡Policia! - Right up there with Pleasant Grove with regard to being my personal, local music heroes. They defy description. (Although, everyone tries to compare them to Radiohead...I swear to god I hear traces of early Talking Heads on this record.)

3. Hogpig, Hold Back the Curse - Even the awesomely kick-ass band name wasn't enough to hold it together. Dammit...we hardly knew ya. Stay hard, Hogpig!

4. Daniel Folmer, Gloria - DdFW's most unheralded talent. In my humble opinion. I defy you to listen to "Serotonin" and ever be able to forget that song. Seriously...ever.

5. Eaton Lake Tonics, Vicodina / Hate When Bad Things Happen to Good Looking People (EP) - Low-fi fabulosity, virtuosity, curiosity and any other "osity" you can think of. Okay, and when I said Red Monroe defy description...this shit really does. It is literally all over the place while somehow keeping one foot on the ground at all times. Domenic is my hero.

6. Kristy Kruger, Songs From a Dead Man’s Couch - Okay, so this actually came out late 2006 and I was just late to the party. Sue me. It deserves additional props. Plus, she's totally dreamy, you know...

7. Lovie, Harshmellow - The more they gig, the more they write, the more they record, the better they get. They will rule the scene sooner rather than later. And can we all please show them some luv for a kick-ass album title...? (PS - They're all dreamy too.)

8. The Allens (self-titled) - This may have come out in '06 also...not sure. And Midland is local-ish, right? Whatever. It's good shit.

9. Jay Gummer, Push (EP) - Cheap Trick meets Weezer meets the Violent Femmes meets a bunch of other good shit I can't put my finger on. And he's got other nifty new stuff on his MySpace page now. So check him out already, bitches...!

10. The Hope Trust, The Incurable Want - Not without its flaws, but darn good. A more proper review will be appearing soon on an Important Local Music Blog That People Actually Read Regularly. Or not. But hopefully. (My review, I mean...not the blogsite.)

11. Fair to Midland, Fables From A Mayfly: What I Tell You Three Times Is True - All I can do is refer you to a previous post...if you give a shit. I certainly don't...

And I wasn't able to get to these sumbitches either, dammit...

The Crash That Took Me, Orchestrated Kaleidoscope
100 Damned Guns, Songs of Murder, Pain & Woe

...and probably another dozen or so that I either never heard about or am forgetting.

So there you go. I suck. But it wasn't entirely my fault. I'll try to do better in 2008. However, things aren't off to a particularly smashing start in that department either...

Fuckity.

XL...30-10 club...holy shit

2008-02-03T11:44:00.001-06:00

On this day in history:
* 1690 - The colony of Massachusetts issues the first paper money in America. - The Kennedy family almost certainly enters politics shortly thereafter.
* 1783 - American Revolutionary War: Spain recognizes United States independence. - I wonder if they'd like a do-over...
* 1809 - The Illinois Territory is created. - The Illinois Territory has not been kind to me over the years...
* 1870 - The Fifteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution is ratified, granting voting rights to citizens regardless of race. - Politicians immediately begin pretending this didn't happen.
* 1913 - The Sixteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution is ratified, authorizing the Federal government to impose and collect an income tax. - Not so much from rich people, mind you...mainly regular folks.
* 1917 - World War I: The United States breaks off diplomatic relations with Germany a day after the former announced a new policy of unrestricted submarine warfare. - I had to do something similar myself, recently...
* 1930 - The Communist Party of Vietnam is established. - I wonder if they'd like a do-over...
* 1941 - World War II: Nazi Germany forcibly restores Pierre Laval to office in occupied Vichy, France. - Serve, you Frenchy bitch...serve!
* 1944 - World War II: United States troops capture the Marshall Islands. - Which we would then go on to obliterate with nuclear tests. Go team!
* 1945 - World War II: The Soviet Union agrees to enter the Pacific Theatre conflict against Japan. - The U.S. proceeds to nuke the shit out of Japan, anyway. Go team!
* 1959 - A plane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa kills Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper. - Bye bye, Miss American pie...
* 1966 - The unmanned Soviet Luna 9 spacecraft makes the first controlled rocket-assisted landing on the Moon. - NASA currently working on plans to retrieve the craft for auction on Ebay.
* 1967 - Ronald Ryan, the last person to be executed in Australia, is hanged in Pentridge Prison, Melbourne. - Fortunately, we're more civilized here in America.
* 1969 - In Cairo, Yasser Arafat is appointed Palestine Liberation Organization leader at the Palestinian National Congress. - Didn't I hear he was gay or something...?
* 1974 - Science fiction author Philip K. Dick reportedly has a gnostic religious experience or theophany, later recounted in his books Valis and Radio Free Albemuth. - Uhhh huh-huh. His name was "Dick."
* 1988 - Iran-Contra Affair: The United States House of Representatives rejects President Ronald Reagan's request for $36.25 million to aid Nicaraguan Contras. - Really put him in his place, didn't it?
* 1989 - After a stroke, P.W. Botha resigns party leadership and the presidency of South Africa. - Almost twenty years later, Dick Cheney miraculously continues to tell the Grim Reaper to go fuck himself.
* 1998 - Karla Faye Tucker is executed in Texas becoming the first woman executed in the United States since 1984. - We are pioneers, after all...
* 1998 - Cavalese cable-car disaster: a United States Military pilot causes the death of 20 people when his low-flying plane cuts the cable of a cable-car near Trento, Italy. - The few, the proud, the Ugly American.
* 2007 - A Baghdad market bombing kills at least 135 people and injures a further 339. - In America, nobody notices.

Births:
* 1811 - Horace Greeley, American journalist, editor, and publisher (d. 1872). - Wonder if he regretted that whole "Go west" thing...
* 1859 - Hugo Junkers, German aircraft designer (d. 1935). - I've flown in some Junkers.
* 1874 - Gertrude Stein, American writer (d. 1946). - Was more fascinated with vaginas than any human being since. Wait, that was Georgia O'Keefe. Whatever.
* 1894 - Norman Rockwell, American illustrator (d. 1978). - Introduces "quaint" as a bona fide artistic technique.
* 1904 - Pretty Boy Floyd, American gangster (d. 1934). - Given nickname by parakeet.
* 1907 - James Michener, American author (d. 1997). - Took one word and ran with it. Repeatedly.
* 1913 - Richard Seaman, British racing driver (d. 1939). - Uhhh huh-huh. His name was "Seaman."
* 1918 - Joey Bishop, American entertainer, member of the Rat Pack (d. 2007). - If not for Sammy Davis, Jr., he'd have been the least sleazy member.
* 1920 - Henry Heimlich, American physician. - An impressive maneuver on his momma's part.
* 1940 - Fran Tarkenton, American football player. - Ran around on the field like a chicken with his head cut off; later hosted "That's Incredible!", which was anything but.
* 1941 - Neil Bogart, American record executive (d. 1982). - Gave us Kiss and Donna Summer. Or paid for them, anyway.
* 1943 - Blythe Danner, American actress. - Excellent name.
* 1945 - Bob Griese, American football player. - Terrible name.
* 1947 - Dave Davies, British musician (The Kinks). - For whatever reason, The Kinks have always whipped my ass.
* 1950 - Morgan Fairchild, American actress. - And Dallas native. We're having a party at Medieval Times together tonight.
* 1952 - Fred Lynn, American baseball player. - Go BoSox!
* 1956 - Nathan Lane, American actor. - Greatness.
* 1956 - Lee Ranaldo, American musician (Sonic Youth). - I did not know this. Priddy friggin' cool.
* 1968 - Vlade Divac, Serbian professional basketball player. - I'm guessing that made Vlade very happy. (Lost on anyone who's not a regular Ticket listener...)
* 1968 - me, American...guy. - Asks everyone to please not do the math on this one.
* 1972 - Mart Poom, Estonian football player. - I declare "Mart Poom" the greatest name in the history of names.

Deaths:
* 1468 - Johannes Gutenberg, German publisher. - Is personally responsible for James Michener and Norman Rockwell.
* 1924 - Woodrow Wilson, 28th President of the United States, Nobel laureate (b. 1856). - He's in my top three...
* 1959 - Also known as The Day the Music Died because of the deaths of:
Buddy Holly, American singer (b. 1936)
Ritchie Valens, American singer (b. 1941)
J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson, American singer (b. 1930)
- Buddy Holly, for sure. The other guys...sorry, that's harsh.
* 1985 - Frank Oppenheimer, American physicist (b. 1912). - Wonder if we gave him a 21-nuke salute somewhere...
* 1989 - John Cassavetes, American actor (b. 1929). - What's Yr Take on Cassavetes?
* 1996 - Audrey Meadows, American actress (b. 1926). - Sent to the moon.
* 1998 - Karla Faye Tucker, American murderer (b. 1959). - In your face, Australia!
* 2003 - Lana Clarkson, American actress (b. 1962). - You know, it's entirely plausible that there were worse possible outcomes from hanging out with Phil Spector...

This time next week, I should be making acquaintance with my three new roommates. That is a gift.

Peace...out.

How gay am I...?

2008-02-02T15:12:00.000-06:00

Answer: pretty darn.

First off, I'd like to express my thanks and sympathies to my bestest friend, Wendy. She's had to endure two months solid of listening to me and my various existential crises. As a person...she just rocks like no one I've ever known.

At any rate, in the midst of my whining to her, I rapid-fired her the lyrics to a song that became stuck in my head because at least a few of the lines in the song were speaking to my particular issue of the moment. To my horror and her shame - they're the kings of midwestern, 70s-era cock, for crying out loud - she couldn't place the song. So for her edification, here it is...

So here's where the gay part comes in. (I'm just a thousand pounds gay in a dozen different ways. I know this...I embrace it - or at least acknowledge it. But this relates to a really specific example of my gayness.) I love Tommy Shaw. Total man-crush. I've always had it and I'm sure I always will. And I'm not a huge fan of Styx as a whole...just Tommy's stuff. The reasons for this...

a) He rocks. He was always the only decent set of balls that band ever had. Without him, they'd have veered off into concept-album, Broadway-based ridiculousness much sooner than they did.

b) There are certain singers that have this really hard to describe "pure" quality to their vocals. George Harrison had it, Juliana Hatfield has it, David Gilmour, Kim Deal, Serj Tankian and probably a few others I'm forgetting...they all have this quality. And, as you might guess, I believe Tommy Shaw has it as well.

c) He's rock-star-purdy.

I think my disturbing affection for Tommy Shaw kicked into high-gear when I saw him smash a guitar on stage during Styx's very ill-received set at the 1983 Texxas Jam. (Note the "trivia" listed underneath the band lineup listed on the previous link.) He didn't just smash the guitar...he destroyed it. Just gave it hell for a solid minute or so until it was nothing but shrapnel. I learned later, courtesy of VH1's "Behind the Music" episode about Styx, how that particular show was the beginning of the end for the band. Tommy's guitar-smashing tantrum was undoubtedly his way of releasing his frustration and angst from that whole Kilroy Was Here bullshit. And to say that set went over like a lead balloon would be a huge understatement. Literally, half of the Cotton Bowl audience fled in horror during their set. My friend and I were able to move from somewhere in the balconies to about ten feet in front of the stage during that set. Anyway...his histrionics were awesome.

But whatever. Apparently, I'm gay for Tommy Shaw. Sue me. I still think the dude is cool. And I could do worse, right? I mean, at least he's not Rhett Miller or something...

Happy Groundhog Day

2008-02-02T14:56:00.000-06:00

However, I'm really only wishing it to this particular groundhog. Whoever you are, Mr. or Ms. Groundhog, you're damn hell cute. So have a good day. You've earned it...

letters to The Sun (part two)

2008-01-27T09:07:00.001-06:00

Those who know me well enough will understand why this has meaning for me...

The most severe panic attacks I've ever had all occurred in airports. The panic would be triggered by feeling trapped in the fluorescent-lit concourses crammed with rushing people. The worst was Chicago's O'Hare, where the crowded tunnel between concourses was outfitted with flashing neon lights and piped-in hustle-bustle music designed to get everyone through as fast as possible. For me the sensory overload was so great that more than once I clung to the tunnel wall, shut my eyes, and felt my way from one end to the other, crying and praying the entire way.

My panic disorder was at its zenith in the summer of 1976, when I'd survived a protracted and brutal divorce and was faced with raising two young children alone. There was one bright light in my life: I was in love with a man I'd met in my therapy group. But then, at summer's end, he got a job more than a thousand miles away, in Denver, Colorado.

I was determined to fly out and visit him, even though it meant changing planes at O'Hare. A friend rationalized that I had an invisible handicap and needed a visible one instead, so that the airline employees would help me. She lent me a pair of crutches and told me to wrap my leg in an Ace bandage and say that I had a broken ankle.

Another friend, who lived in Chicago, agreed to meet me when I arrived at O'Hare. I got off the plane to find my friend waiting for me, along with an airport employee who had orders to put me in a wheelchair and take me to the gate for my next departure. My friend insisted we have a drink first, so the employee wheeled me over to the nearest airport lounge and said he'd be back to get me in half an hour.

After a few drinks it suddenly dawned on us that he'd forgotten me, and my plane was due to depart in two minutes. My friend yanked me out of the wheelchair, and I put the crutches under my arm and ran down the concourse. When I got to the gate, the doors of the plane were closing, but the crew took pity on me and let me squeeze on.

The man I was flying to see has been my husband for nearly thirty years. Together we have traveled the world.

- Ciel Bottomly
Montrose, Colorado

For me, it's always been malls. Not that I ever go to malls...maybe once or twice a year at most. But something about them freaks me the fuck out. The panic disorder doesn't limit its manifestation to malls, unfortunately; that would completely kick ass because I hate malls to begin with. But for whatever reason, that locale cranks the internal weirdness behind the disorder up to eleven, much as the airport does (or did) for Ms. Bottomly.

In addition to relating to this letter on that level, though, I also really love it because it brings to light one of the most notable idiosyncrasies of panic disorder...or maybe just one that I share with the author, anyway. But even when panic symptoms are at their worst, they are always trumped by any unexpected urgency of reality. If anything legitimately important were to suddenly arise - car accident, news of a loved one needing assistance, etc. - panic symptoms...POOF!...cease to be. Which says a lot about the disorder, I think. Not that it makes it any less real or upsetting for the person experiencing it.

And it makes me wonder why therapists don't recognize this phenomenon and base some type of exercise around it. (Or maybe some do and I just haven't heard of them.) In my experience, there are two or three types of therapy for the person who suffers from a panic or anxiety disorder. First: drugs. Obviously. Because that's the first line of defense for any mental or physical ailment these days. There are drugs to take on an ongoing basis to prevent the unpleasantness, and drugs that can be taken in response to (or, as the neocons might prefer, as a preemptive strike) an "episode." Second: exercises - usually involving breathing patterns, physical activity, or thought processes that encourage the examination of the symptoms as they happen - designed to help one "get through" such an "episode." Third: variations on some form of ongoing cognitive therapy as a means of overcoming the disorder.

I'm not going to go into the various theories I have about why anxiety/panic disorders have become so common in America...mostly because I'm still trying to craft them into something more measurable or verifiable than just theories. But I wonder how universal this is amongst my panicky peers...that an immediate, unexpected, usually-physically bona fide emergency will squash panic symptoms like a fucking grape. If there's anyone out there who happens to be reading this and can comment from the perspective of a sufferererer...I'd love to hear from you.

Meanwhile, I think I'm gonna dink around in my laboratory with this idea and see if I can...I dunno. See what happens, I guess. Can't hurt, right...?

letters to The Sun (part one)

2008-01-26T21:54:00.000-06:00

"You Could Make a Killing," Aimee Mann

There is nothing that competes with habit
And I know it's neither deep nor tragic
It's simply that you have to have it
So you can make a killing

I wish I was both young and stupid
Then I too could have the fun that you did
Till it was time to pony up what you bid
So you could make a killing

I could follow you and search the rubble
Or stay right here and save myself some trouble
Or try to keep myself from seeing double
Or I could make a killing

I've experienced what it's like from both perspectives now regarding the story that follows. It's not easy to be on either side of this scenario. But it's especially pathetic for the party who's old enough to know better...old enough to be capable of an adult's self-awareness, yet too self-centered to care who gets hurt or why the behavior is upsetting to those who might express love and concern...

At the age of thirteen I walked through JFK International Airport holding tightly to my mother's hand; my younger sister walked on her other side, clutching her favorite stuffed animal. Our mother wore a print dress that showed off her figure, beaded necklaces around her neck, and a knit cap that covered her red hair. Though her clothes hadn't changed since her flower-child days, the lines on her face betrayed the intervening years of hard living.

My sister and I were headed to California to live with our grandparents. Everyone had agreed it was for the best. I was even looking forward to life in my grandparents' tidy house, where dinner was always on the table at six and making the rent was never an issue. At the same time, I clung to the hope that our mother would come with us to California; that, in the end, she wouldn't be able to let us go.

But when the three of us came to the security check, my mother stopped in her tracks.

"I can't go through," she said.

I knew what the problem was. "Don't worry, they're only looking for metal."

She refused to budge. I wasn't going to let airport security ruin the chance that she might come with us. "I'll take it through," I told her.

We went into a stall in the women's restroom, and my mother passed me a small bag filled with white powder. I tucked it into the waistband of my jeans and smoothed out my shirt to conceal the bump. My mother looked anxious. "We can't," she said. She was afraid that a belt buckle or something would set off the metal detector, and they'd have to search us. "You don't know what they'd do to us if they found it." She took back the packet of powder.

"Why don't you just throw it away?" I pleaded. I had never made a request like this before, probably because I knew the choice she would make.

Our mother cried as she was separated from us at security, holding tight to the purse that contained her stash. When my sister and I passed through the metal detector, it didn't make a sound.

- Name Withheld

callous Dallas

2008-01-26T19:51:00.000-06:00

Here's a story that's distressing/depressing on a number of different levels...

After complaints, Dallas shelter ensures humane handling of dogs

So while San Antonio is on a two-year mission to become a no-kill city, its more "cultured" and well-known neighbor to the north has taken this approach to animal services. Not exactly progressive or compassionate, to say the least. But then those aren't qualities widely respected in our fair burg. I'd say it's also a decent representation of the priorities of our city leaders. As a whole, they're completely consumed with all things shiny and new...anything they feel will bolster our appearance of cosmopolitan culture. Any initiative to address the well-being, health, happiness and financial interests of average constituents - let alone a bunch of fucking animals, for crying out loud - isn't even an afterthought. It's simply not a consideration to begin with.

Where do we even begin addressing this city's shallow indifference in general? Its policies toward taking care of the less fortunate...humans and non-human animals alike...?

My sister has worked for the Dallas Zoo for most of her adult life. I respect what she does and I respect much of the work that zoos in general perform. I do think they perform a valuable service as a whole. I've always thought of zoos as being much more than just entertainment facilities, at least to those who visit in search of more than entertainment. They provide education, important research in terms of study and behavior, and in some cases they can be essential in the fight to preserve species.

Having said all that, though, I must also admit to having a few misgivings about zoos and the function they sometimes find themselves serving to the general public. There was a picture on the last page of the November issue of The Sun that not only crystallized my misgivings, but just frankly broke my heart. The image was taken by an absolute genius of photography by the name of John Rosenthal. I hope he doesn't mind my sharing it here...

Speaking (yet again) about the greatness of The Sun, I thought I'd share a few of my favorite "sunbeams" from the tail end of that same November issue. For those of you who know me, you know the last thing I ever attempt to do is convert anyone to anything...and I'm not doing that here. I just enjoy the following comments not only because they speak to me and some of my sentiments, but also simply because I think they're worth consideration. For all of us.

It is an important and popular fact that things are not always what they seem. For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much - the wheel, New York, wars, and so on - whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man - for precisely the same reasons. - Douglas Adams

There's a schizoid quality to our relationship with animals, in which sentiment and brutality exist side by side. Half the dogs in America will receive Christmas presents this year, yet few of us pause to consider the miserable life of the pig - an animal easily as intelligent as a dog - that becomes the Christmas ham. - Michael Pollan

The animals of the world exist for their own reasons. They were not made for humans any more than black people were made for white, or women created for men. - Alice Walker

Humans - who enslave, castrate, experiment on, and fillet other animals - have had an understandable penchant for pretending animals do not feel pain. A sharp distinction between humans and "animals" is essential if we are to bend them to our will, wear them, eat them - without any disquieting tinges of guilt or regret. - Carl Sagan (one of my all-time heroes)

And my favorite - a comment that concisely expresses my general outlook on daily living...for better and worse...

Think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight. - Albert Schweitzer

Yes, please...think. Consider. At least occasionally.

to paraphrase one of my favorite philosophers...

2008-01-20T14:34:00.000-06:00

..."I like stuff that's cool. I don't like stuff that sucks." (Or something to that effect.)

Thank you, Butt-Head. Your genius kicked ass.

So other than continuing to fight through this cold or infection or whatever it is I've had since Christmas Eve, I pretty much have a big bag of nothing today. Except, perhaps, just a few bits of mostly useless information to pass along to anyone who may care.

Firstly, if you find yourself needing a watch or some jewelry repaired (or needing to buy a watch or some jewelry), you must go see these folks. I've visited them a few times, really just because they're located close to where I work. But they are so ridiculously nice and helpful...they just rock. I had to take my little chain bracelet to them last week to see if they could replace a pin that had fallen out. The owner pretty much dropped what he was doing, fixed it right then and there, and then charged me a dollar for the job. "Um, are you sure about that?" "Sure, I'm sure. You might need to come back for something else sometime down the road." And he's right, of course, seeing as how I'd been there a few times before.

I just love dealing with decent, nice people. Especially as a break from my employers who, for the most part, are anything but decent, nice people. These particular decent, nice people don't have a website - they're pretty old school and a small operation. But here's their info, should you find yourself in need of such services. A free plug to the millions of faithful acs readers is the least I can do to show my gratitude...

Classic Custom Jewelry
1780 Northwest Highway
Garland, Texas 75041
972-270-6589

So there's that.

Secondly, my sister sent me some cute pics of a couple animals she found herself working with today at the zoo. Sez she...

"The bird is a eurasian eagle owl. The other is a prehensile tailed porcupine. Both very sweet."

For your edification, here are the aforementioned sweet critters...

In addition to enjoying my interactions with decent, nice people, I also thoroughly enjoy my interactions with most non-human critters...decent, nice or otherwise. And I've always had a thing for porcupines. I'm sure I probably just relate to them because of the obvious symbolism...how I gather many folks see me as wearing a prickly, defensive shell whether predation is a possibility or not, when in fact I'm a pretty damn decent, nice and non-threatening dude on the inside. Plus, porcupines are just fucking cute.

You know, I've yet to see an animal - any animal - that I don't find cute and/or inviting in one way or another. I should probably try and analyze that and how it compares with my attitudes toward human critters in general. But I'm a bit too loopy from the TheraFlu to do so now. Maybe later.

Happy Sunday, fellow earthlings...

the sweet smell of success

2008-01-14T20:21:00.000-06:00

One thing Merritt Martin and I have in common - well, aside from enthusiasm for her kickin' robot dance abilities - is a love of song lyrics horribly misinterpreted. One of my all-time favorites is one I think I provided to her blog...possibly my own, I can't remember. But it was my directing attention to the fact that for much of the song, rather than singing "Eyes Without a Face," it totally sounds like Billy Idol is singing "I'll Supply the Fish." Nobody else to my knowledge has ever seconded this notion, but I'm telling you...just listen.

Then a few weeks ago, I was listening to Black Sabbath's "A National Acrobat." One particular line - keep in mind, please, this was written in the mid-70s - is, "I crept inside my embryonic cell." However, Ozzy was at his most nasally back then and, as the song was functioning as background music for the hell that is my workplace, I heard, "I crapped inside my embryonic cell." Which may possibly change the entire meaning of the song, except for the fact that all the Sabbath guys were so droned out on acid back then there was probably no real identifiable meaning to begin with.

But then today I had a delightful flashback to what is without a doubt my greatest lyric misinterpretation ever. I've been a vegetarian for almost twenty years, but it's rare when the smell of some type of meat really grosses me out; I usually just recognize the aroma as something I know I ain't eatin' with the other folks. But every once in a while, a whiff of something will hit me like a brick wall and I'll damn near fall backward, it's so gross. As you might guess, today featured one of those moments. I still have no idea what was being served...just that it smelled fucking nasty. Just greasy and ooky and...just picture my facial expression whenever I see Ann Coulter and that will give you a clue to the look I'm sporting right now just thinking about it. My first response to the unwelcome and very unexpected aroma of fleshy gruel was a sarcastic, "Mmmm...carcass."

Taking that ball and running with it the way my mind usually does, I was immediately humming an old Siouxsie and the Banshees nugget called, yes, "Carcass." It's a great, rockin' little ditty from their debut record when they were Sex Pistols wannabes, and the chorus was, as best I can remember...

Be a carcass
Be a dead...(something)
Limblessly in love...

I don't claim to have ever understood what "limblessly in love" could possibly mean. But the line my brain invented for me, before I saw it on a lyric sheet years later:

Let me smell your love...

As with all bungled lyrics, the incorrect ones are always by far superior. But I swear this gem o' mine stands out, I think (and with all humility), as quite possibly the greatest misheard lyric ever.

Be a carcass...
Let me smell your love...

If I'd been exposed to Siouxsie and the Banshees just four years earlier, I guarantee that would have been on the inside of every compulsory Valentine's Day card I exchanged with my sixth grade classmates. Hell, if I ever get married, I may write the shit into my vows. Silly, romantic fool that I am...

The theme of odoriferousness among the three examples above was purely unintentional, I promise. Like many moments of genius in one's life, it was just a happy, smelly accident. And I just had to share. Because I am a giver, after all...

Happy early Valentine's Day, all. Let me smell your love.

xoxo

treason is the reason for my poison...

2008-01-12T20:00:00.000-06:00

There are a few apologies I owe to some really talented artists from around these parts. I had taken to filming local performances with the hopes of giving the footage to the artists (and to my pal, Cindy) so they could use them for promotional purposes. Some of them had no idea I had filmed their performances in the first place, such as Sean Kirkpatrick, Pleasant Grove, and the Baptist Generals.

Others, though, like Daniel Folmer and Kristy Kruger, did know I'd filmed their sets and were looking forward to the video I'd promised them. And I was looking quite forward to coming through for them.

Worst of all is the couple hours worth of interview footage of a friend, Monique, who is not only a wonderful person, but also a really amazing artist.

But, unfortunately, it wasn't my camera being used, and the person who would have been doing all the time-consuming work of downloading and editing the footage ended up flaking out spectacularly. I have no idea whether the film I shot was decent - or even if it had sound, for that matter (as I'd pulled that one out of my technotarded ass at least once previously) - but it would have been nice to find out. At any rate, to Daniel, Kristy and Monique...please accept my apologies.

Maybe some day I’ll get my own video camera and learn how to do the shit myself. However, given my inability to grasp even the most basic technology, the chances prolly aren’t real good.

I used to wonder if a person's character and motives could be separated. I'm sure most people, depending on the circumstances, can have selfish motives at times. Likewise, I'm sure most people don't have selfish motives all the time. But I think I am starting to learn that situational motives can be a pretty good indicator of character across the board. That if someone who is ordinarily an attention/accolade/limelight whore suddenly becomes interested in an endeavor for which there is no personal, material reward...chances are that person has other, less sincere motivations for becoming involved in the project. I've encountered people like that in the past and they're usually pretty easy to spot.

I don't know if a selfish motivation in one instance necessarily equals a selfish character in all instances. I can't imagine most people are that one-dimensional. Life is made up of varying shades of gray; it's never as easy to label something or someone as "black" or "white" as it should be. But I do think a person's motives in certain cases can definitely be a warning sign of trouble ahead.

I guess that's one of the lessons I can take from this situation: proceed with caution and then pay special attention to how things proceed. If altruism and a generous spirit aren't normally traits you associate with your...um, associate, then chances are you probably won't be witnessing those characteristics any time in the near future.

In the wild, many of the flashiest, most brightly colored creatures are often times both a lure for the unsuspecting and a mask for the poison they're capable of producing. Then there are other critters - even plants like the Venus Flytrap - who appear benevolent and humbly subservient as a pretext to their instinctive intent: to ensnare and/or devour their victims with parasitic - if not predatory - behavior. The latter are much more difficult to identify for obvious reasons. I'm a firm believer that humans aren't nearly as removed from our less-domesticated animal neighbors as we'd like to think we are.

I don't think I'm oversimplifying, but I think there's a strong case to be made for the idea that if you can't trust a person in one situation or with regard to one subject, you probably shouldn't assume you can trust that same person in any situation...with regard to any subject. You are what you are; I am what I am. Or at least that's probably the safest approach to take with most people until proven otherwise. And while that sounds overly cynical, I'm not trying to suggest that people are guilty until proven innocent. But I am suggesting that, for the most part, you cannot turn honesty on and off...that sincerity is not a situational behavior when dealing with folks who are important to you...that trustworthiness is a defining characteristic of a person and can be established quite early, so long as you pay attention to what you observe.

I also think you can tell a lot about what's important to a person by seeing who he or she chooses to have as friends. I've always loved the fact that, if you were to put all my really good friends in one room together, it would look like a bunch of random people standing in line at the DMV; they have absolutely nothing in common with one another on the surface...not personality type or appearance or politics or hobbies...nothing. The one thing they do all have in common: they're good (by my definition) people. I can trust my life with any of them and vice versa. They're honest and sincere, they don't have questionable motives, they have their own moral compasses and follow them faithfully (whether I share those morals is immaterial)...they give me every reason to believe in them and I know they believe in me because we each are open books to one another.

And I guess that's all I want to say about that.

spitting on scorched earth

2008-01-07T19:10:00.000-06:00

Is there anything cooler than making a big, dramatic exit...giving every piece of your mind within reach, then slamming the door and storming off into the sunset...only to realize you forgot to mention the very point you were trying to make in the first place?

Of course not. That's why I did it.

I feel like I just gathered all my righteous indignation and stomped out of the room (somewhat) triumphantly, only to leave my car keys behind...

Dammit. I can't even put someone in his or her place without fucking it up by doing something retarded. So all I can do - because I don't have the restraint or common sense to leave well-enough alone - is at least try to save face with myself here. And so, for the sake of posterity, my own sense of completion, and perhaps just to throw it out there for the universe to do with as it chooses...the following is a scene from a particular movie that hit me suddenly yesterday as the perfect analogy for this completely baffling and disheartening experience. Nutshell in hand, I had to cut my losses and choose to move on.

It's also sadly appropriate on so many different levels that I find the music of the Kirkwood brothers playing constantly in my head right now....

"Vultures"

Maybe I've been wasted,
And maybe I'm confused,
But mostly, it just seems like a whole lot to lose...
In such a small time

I tried to find just a small clip of the scene from the aforementioned movie that sums up the experience. The best I could do was this presumably homemade video (music not of my choosing). It'll have to do...

"Spit"

Once, it seemed to be the way things are...
Now it seems the way that it will be.
It's happening to me...

Once, we used to love and lose our minds...
Now it seems the tables have been turned.
My head is losing me...

Once, we used to spit into the wind
...it's coming back to me.
We used to spit into the wind
...it's coming back to me.

I hope I'm wrong about what I see happening. But I get a sick feeling I'm not. I just hope someone has already gotten some good pictures of how things are right now, because if I am right...it's all downhill from here.

Choices have consequences. I've made some really reckless, really stupid choices lately, myself. I was lucky. Or, more likely, just happened to have a chemical or two in my system that prevented me from destroying everything I hold dear. Other folks don't have that kind of luck or chemistry. For them, those same reckless and stupid choices can very easily ruin a life. I sincerely hope that's not how this experience plays out...

But ultimately, each of us is responsible for the choices we make. A clear mind can more easily make healthier decisions. A troubled mind has far greater challenges than most people realize. But a troubled mind has choices, nevertheless. And living with the wrong choice can be the most difficult challenge of all.

Take a picture of your life right now. It may be all you have left to show for your troubles down the road...

my accidental jihad

2008-01-01T10:45:00.000-06:00

That's actually the title of a really great story in the October issue of The Sun magazine by one of its staff members, Krista Bremer. A story, in fact, that has me quite intrigued with the concept behind Ramadan. However, it's the poem preceding "My Accidental Jihad" that I'm posting here. I just used the title because it's kinda fitting for me entering the new calendar year. 2007 really wasn't all that bad as a whole. My grandmother's passing in April was my first real brush with some measurable level of grief. But along came December to kick me hard in the crotch. Twice, actually...in case I wasn't paying enough attention the first time. At any rate, it's become clear that I need to make some changes - even if they're temporary - in the upcoming year. For whatever reason, this poem spoke to me...all past, present and future considerations taken.

I had to consult with some friends to help me make sense of my life's unscheduled vacation to the crapper...what did it mean, what did I do wrong, what could I have done differently, etc. The friends I normally count on for support and advice - Wendy, Cindy, Jan, Amber, some of my fellow aminal enthusiasts - were their usual helpful and insightful selves...the first three in particular. But it was another good friend, Elena, who gave me what may have been the most thought-provoking suggestions. And in the midst of all that, I came across this absolutely stunning, thoroughly beautiful poem.

I'm posting it simply because...well, it kinda blew my mind. Aside from being completely timely with regard to my recent unhappiness, it just really...it's hard to explain. Suffice it to say that it's been a long time since I've read anything that made me feel so personally encouraged about my own life while also reminding me I've only begun to scratch the surface of the parts of my mind that have been itching as of late. It's cool if you don't have the same interpretations, though...I'm sure you'll find it a great story for your own reasons.

Whenever I reprint something from The Sun I try to get the author's permission, but I can't see where to go about doing that in this case. So I'll just detail all the info listed in the magazine and hope that it will suffice. The author seems like a pretty good humored guy...and I can't imagine a Rumi enthusiast would also be a lawsuit enthusiast. Particularly, since I'm just some dude with a blog nobody reads. But I like to give as much credit as possible where it's due, and it will follow here in a second. The poem is rather long, as you'll see (Wendy, you've prolly already seen this one). But I have kick-ass typing skills, which is nice when you're as verbose with your written communication habits as I am. And, besides...it's worth it. Sez me.

(Coleman Barks has collaborated with scholars for thirty-one years to translate the poetry of Jelaluddin Rumi into American free verse. He has published nineteen volumes of Rumi's work, which have sold more than three quarters of a million copies, as well as six volumes of his own poetry. He taught American literature and creative writing at various universities for thirty-four years and is now a retired professor emeritus at the University of Georgia. He lives in Athens, Georgia, close to his two sons and four grandchildren.

("Song of the Swordsmith" is part of a longer poem, "Central Asian Sufis and the Nature of the Heart," which appears in Coleman Barks's Scrapwood Man [Maypop Books]. Copyright 2007 by Coleman Barks.)

"Song of the Swordsmith"
by Coleman Barks

There is a swordsmith
in a valley in eastern Afghanistan.

When there is no war, he forges
steel plows, and he shoes horses,
but he is most known for his singing.

People come from all over to listen to him,
from the forests of the giant walnut trees,
from Qataghan and Badakshan,
from the snowbound Hindu Kush,
from Khanabad and Kunat,
from Herat and Paghman.

Mostly they come to hear one song
about the far valley of paradise.

This particular song has a haunting lilt
and the ability to make those who hear
feel that they are in that place,
the paradisal valley.

Someone always asks when he finishes,
Is that a real place?

It is as real as real can be,
is always his answer.

Have you been there?

Not in the ordinary way of traveling.

The singer loves Aisha,
a young woman in the valley.

But she doubts that there is
such a place as the one he sings of,
and so does his rival for her love,
Hasan, a swordsman of great strength
and agility. He has full confidence
that he will eventually win Aisha.

He makes fun of the swordsmith-singer
whenever he can. One day the villagers
are sitting inside the blessed quiet
that happens after that song.

Hasan says, Why don't you follow
the blue haze that rises there
from the mountains of Sangan,
and actually go to the place you sing about?

I feel it would not be right.

Well, that is a convenient feeling.
It keeps you from being revealed
as a fraud and a sentimental dreamer.

I propose a test to decide
several things at once.

You love Aisha,
but she does not believe
in your valley.

You two could never be married
in such a discord of trust.

The swordsmith replies,
You expect me then
to set out for the valley and return
with proof of its existence?

Yes! call out Hasan
and the crowd together.

I will make this trip then,
but will Aisha promise to marry me
if I return successfully?

I will, says Aisha quietly.

He collects dried mulberries
and scraps of bread in a sack
and starts on the journey.

His way is always up. He climbs
until he comes to a sheer wall
blocking the way. He scales that,
and there is another, another,
five walls in all.

On the other side of the last wall
he finds himself in a valley
like his own.

People come out of their houses
to welcome him.

It is so weirdly strange, this experience
of the swordsmith-singer.

Months later he walks back into
the valley he started out from,
an old man limping to his hut.

Word spreads that he has returned.
Hasan is spokesman for the crowd that comes.
He calls the singer to the window.

They gasp at how old he has become.

Did you find the valley?

I did.

What was it like?

He is quiet for a while
in the weariness and confusion,
in the difficulty of saying
where he went, where he is now,
and what has happened.

I climbed until it seemed like
no human habitation could be so high.
But there was, a valley identical to this one.

And the people there are not only like
us, they are us. Hasan, Aisha, myself,
you, you, everyone is there
in his or her original form.

We are the shadowy copies.

Everyone turns and walks away,
convinced that the singer has gone mad
in his solitary search.

Aisha marries Hasan.
The singer rapidly grows old and dies.

The people who heard the story
as he told it also soon grow old.
They lose interest in their lives.

They feel some huge event is about to occur,
one they have no control over.
Vital energy drains away.

Once in a thousand years
such a secret is revealed
to someone like the singer-swordsmith.

But no one yet
has quite been able to take in
the truth that we are two selves,
this one and one more real
that lives in the valley
a certain song makes us long for.

That we are that being
as well as this more familiar one,
who is dubious, confused, reckless, and sad,
whose sadness is a little solved
when we hear the song
that makes us remember essence.

A friend says,
There is another world,
and this is it.

That the two valleys are one
living being
cannot be said in language.

That we already are the perfected one
cannot be spoken of.

But it can be felt inside,
as the moment itself,

and as the whole outdoors,
the whole-around-us,
that veiny animule.

That is the heart,
where we take our walks.

goodbye is the only useful word

2007-12-29T18:51:00.000-06:00

Today, I spent the day in silence. I've got to do this more often. It's no wonder I'm so scatterbrained and overwhelmed by the constant barrage of stimuli. The only sounds I heard all day were the vacuum cleaner, the sounds of the city outside my building (including a somewhat fascinating conversation between three men standing around and digging through the dumpster out back; I assume they were homeless, though they didn't look the part...whatever that means...and the dog with them looked happy and healthy), and the music that's almost always going in my head. It was - despite or maybe because of (or both) my chores for the day - nice.

Today, I spent much of my mental energy on a very close friendship that suddenly and, I suppose, inevitably - given the direction the relationship had taken over the past year - burst in an ugly and disturbing fashion, then imploded like a dying star. Quite literally. All that remains are echoes of the destruction, some scattered traces of what once was, and an unexpected hole in the universe where there was none before. I've been understandably sad and shaken since Tim's passing. I have no doubt I've led a charmed life to this point because I've never had to experience real grief until now. Unfortunately, the grieving process was pretty rudely interrupted by the aforementioned friendship-go-boom. I'm sure that had a lot to do with how badly I handled it; I hadn't even begun to decide how to sort through my emotions and begin the process of a life without the presence of my best buddy...the one constant during most of my adult life. Before I even knew what hit me, I'd already smacked into a new wall of trauma. Which, frankly, pisses me off. Tim should have been able to receive the full attention of my grieving. As the end of his life was approaching, I let him down. I know I did now, in hindsight...though, I know he'd never hold it against me. The least I could have done for him after his death was fully experience the pain I was rightfully due. But if nothing else, the one-two punch of dueling dramas was a reminder that we really have no control over anything in our lives...at least, not in the broader sense.

Today, I cleaned up the areas where the last physical residue of Tim's life remained in my home. I vacuumed and scrubbed and vacuumed and scrubbed the areas that needed the most attention. I cleaned out and wiped down the spot in my closet that was his refuge...truly the only place in his entire life that was his and his alone. He took to this spot the day we moved in. I rearranged stuff so that the whole shelf was his and put pillows there so he could have a cushy place to himself. He never had a space like this in the old apartment. As much as I tried to find or create a place for him where he could be comfortable and we would both know was his, I guess nothing just ever felt quite right to him. And it made me so happy that he'd finally found this spot for himself...it was honestly one of the things I've loved most about this place since moving in. It was already more our place than the old apartment ever was even after ten years. I'm sad that circumstances were such that he only got to enjoy that experience for such a brief time. But it will forever be his and I don't think I'll ever look at that space and not see him there. (I still direct a sad "goodbye" to his spot every day before I leave for work; I feel incomplete if I don't.)

Today, as I was cleaning and thinking and immersing myself in the silence, I came to the conclusion that the exploding-star demise of my friendship really wasn't anybody's fault. We're both to blame in that we failed (if we ever tried) to see how our respective past damages couldn't possibly ever be able to reconcile with one another. While we were so compatible in so many ways, our magnetics were such that a natural barrier was in place that would never allow us to lock together in a mutually beneficial way. Each person did what was necessary for the sake of survival and sanity. Once I came to this realization, it was obvious I have nothing for which to direct blame. Anger, perhaps...disappointment, certainly. It was ugly and acrimonious, but that's to be expected, everything taken into consideration. I feel forgiveness, which is the biggest shocker; I've never forgiven easily. But I do forgive. Hopefully, if I'm in need of being forgiven, myself, that can happen also. Maybe we can be friends again someday, though if that happens, it will not be a close friendship, I don't imagine. I know myself too well to see that as a possibility. But at least we won't be enemies. That, for me, is progress I don't think I'd have been capable of even months ago.

Today, among my last chores was to clean up the areas of my home in which Tim spent his final moments...the places near and in the kitchen where he moved in a continuous effort to escape the pain I didn't realize he was in: just inside to a spot around the corner from the outside door where he stumbled and basically collapsed (I thought I was witnessing more behavior as a result of the sudden blindness that had taken hold of him so quickly), and finally to the outside door of the kitchen, where he'd lapsed into seizures from which he'd never return. I have a good idea now of what he was experiencing in medical terms during those last moments, and also some theories as to what was going on with him that was misdiagnosed both by myself and by the people to whom I reached out for assistance. I felt like I was betraying him yet again by sanitizing my final moments with him in our home...those places where he lay dying without my having the slightest idea what was to come.

Today, I began the process of getting my home ready for what I hope will become my new companions. These new friends, if everything goes through properly, will arrive with their own damaged experiences. I hadn't planned to do so this quickly but, just like I didn't have any control over the circumstances leading to the recent departures in my life, I was presented with an opportunity to do something good for myself and these beautiful critters. I'm not ready to move on. But these animals I hope to adopt are ready now...and need comfort and sanctuary and love more than I ever have. One of the adoption representatives expressed to me the notion that this will be a beautiful tribute to Tim and his place in my life. I hope that's true. The last thing I would ever want to do is abandon his memory or be disrespectful to everything he contributed to my life. He gave me more than he'll ever know. I hope I can return the favor by helping some innocent, unfairly damaged new lives become comfortable and feel safe, loved and valued by becoming part of my life.

I always observed Tim's birthday on Christmas. I was pretty sure he was born some time in December, so why not give him the best day, right? Anyway, we never really did much together in celebration of the holiday...what with neither of us being the religious sort.

But my contribution to my family's Christmas tree decorations this year was a picture of my friend from his first Christmas when he and I were living with my folks. Everybody loved that he was there with us the only way he could be. And I loved feeling their affection for him.

Today was a good day. Thank you, Tim.

And a belated Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday. You'll never know how much you changed my life. I'll do everything I can to honor that and you...for as long as I'm capable.

"Like a break in the battle, was your part...
in the wretched life of a lonely heart"

for Tim

2007-12-17T20:32:00.000-06:00

Let me be weak...

let me sleep…

and dream of sheep

I wish I would have done more.

I wish…

Sleep well, my dear, sweet friend.

land of the greed, and the home of the slave

2007-12-06T18:57:00.000-06:00

Robert Greenwald keeps finding new reasons for being my hero...

Please visit War on Greed

This, unfortunately, is the new America. Even more unfortunately, it's just the tip of the iceberg. And once again, not too many of us seem to care...

(By the way, the Ebay suggestion toward the end was my personal favorite.)

just say "know"

2007-11-25T16:47:00.000-06:00

For those of you who love the pharmaceutical industry as much as I do, this will make for good readin', I promise...

"I'm the trout player"

2007-11-22T12:46:00.001-06:00

Okay, so after having heard about this interview for years, it finally occurred to me to try and catch it on YouTube. And it is so fucking funny (and a two-parter).

It's interesting on a few levels in that the interview took place not long before they started falling apart. But it's very cool - at least to someone like me who grew up a Kiss fanatic - to finally see everyone's actual personalities (sober or otherwise) on display in one room...how they interact and whatnot.

I was surprised to see how humble Peter comes across. He seemed like a genuinely compassionate person in the midst of the chaos they created for themselves. Paul...amusing on occasion, but kinda bland for the most part. And Gene, of course, was just as he is now: a control freak who will play along if he thinks it suits his interests, but otherwise annoyed if he's not driving the train.

I'd imagine Ace probably was/is a fairly quiet, reserved guy when he's not hammered. But for the most part, he was completely - well, mostly - articulate, and obviously hilarious. There were more than a few moments in these clips when I laughed out loud. But, "Actually, I'm a plumber"...genius. Probably one of the funniest lines I've ever heard.

Yes, they were stupid. Yes, most of those songs - certainly lyrically - are totally embarrassing. But as musicians, they worked really well together and, I think, still sound great to this day (what they recorded back then, I mean). Most of all, it was a fun time. And it still amazes me that that entire experience - the original Kiss heyday - only lasted six or seven years. It seemed like forever back then...

God bless Ace Frehley. I still love the guy.

Dear Santa...

2007-11-20T21:06:00.001-06:00

I've been a really good boy this year. Well, I've been mostly good. But here's why I'm bloggin' to you...

See this...?

We had a really pretty sunset this evening. Not that you can tell from the perspective of my crappy camera phone. And I am thankful for my crappy camera phone...I know there are lots of people in the world who are much less fortunate than me. In ways far more profound than I dare address here.

I'm just sayin'...If you happen to find yourself with 400 somewhat decent digital cameras to deliver to only 399 mostly good boys on the Baby J's b-day...look me up, if it's not too much trouble. Please. (And I believe I filled out my change-of-address form with the North Pole database. But please let me know if your records do not reflect this...)

Thank you, Santa! Kiss the reindeer for me!

Love,

Danny R. in Dallas

"...I do not want to be devoured"

2007-11-20T07:47:00.000-06:00

From Mary F. Mullane of Benton, Arkansas, in the "Correspondence" section of the September issue of The Sun...

To me forgiveness is about letting go of anger and resentment. Like everyone, I have felt these strong emotions, but I've learned to let them go, because they eat away at me, and I do not want to be devoured. Life is too short and too full of better things. When we indulge our anger and let it dominate our thoughts, we inflict more harm on ourselves than on anyone else.

I believe that wholeheartedly. My question is...How do you learn to do that? Where do you begin? I've heard a lot of folks like Ms. Mullane express that same sentiment. But I still haven't seen examples of how people can transform themselves from the type of person for whom anger and resentment seem almost a basic component of character into beings who can sincerely live this philosophy.

Anyone...?

one, two, three, four...

2007-11-14T05:45:00.000-06:00

...I declare a poop-flingin' war.

Or something. I don't know if capuchins do that sort of thing. But I find this absolutely fascinating...

...he said, before driving off in his SUV

2007-11-12T20:14:00.000-06:00

Short but sweet...

Awareness is Overrated

And, of course, he's right. In my own defense, at least with regard to the title of this post, I do refer to it as The Hypocritical SUV. But, in a better defense, I also think I took Jack E. Jett's brilliantly twisted idea today in a comment on an Unfair Park post and made it brillianter and twisteder by sort of re-proposing it as a larger form of protest / performance art / something goofy to do rather than just throwing my hands up in disgust. Yet again. Because my arms are getting tired from doing that...

And, while I don't expect anyone to take my comment on the Observer post seriously, I was being serious. You know...it's unique, it's something nobody in the world would expect or even know how to react to, and it's just such a clusterfuck of sarcastic weirdness directed at a particular target there's no way anyone could ignore it.

But that's my very small contribution for the day...

monkeys fly out of my butt

2007-11-04T10:21:00.000-06:00

I Should Pay More Tax

Pretty impressive that he should take it upon himself to make those observations and comment on them publicly, I think. And, obviously, it's a painfully clear indication of just whom our representatives are actually representing.

So why has no one in the U.S. media picked up on this story...?

and he would have known...

2007-11-03T09:58:00.000-06:00

“Fascism should more appropriately be called Corporatism because it is a merger of state and corporate power.” - Benito Mussolini

So the clip below is very long, but you can leave the audio playing while you do other things (that's what I did). And it is worth hearing...

today, Wendy...

2007-10-29T17:33:00.000-06:00

Happy birffday, my dearest...!

(Extra cool timing since the fantabulous and ever-amazing Johnette Napolitano is playing here this coming Saturday. Maybe she'll play this song for you...)

"...the audio equivalent of seeing a circus on meth"

2007-09-17T19:42:00.000-06:00

God, I wish I'd been able to see these guys when they were still around...

(it's Mr. Bungle playing "My Ass is on Fire")

There are no limits to the gloriosity of YouTube.

wonderful

2007-09-11T20:09:00.000-06:00

Burning saltwater could mean new fuel source

Okay. Now the apocalypse is upon us.

Seriously.

my friends kick ass

2007-09-08T13:45:00.000-06:00

This is only a small example of the inumerable ways in which my friend Wendy is so awesome...

Striking UMM workers prepared for second week of pay protest

University of Minnesota, Morris clerical and technical workers will “recharge our batteries” over the weekend and be back on picket lines Monday if necessary, said a campus union leader on Friday.

The UMM workers were on strike for a third day Friday, and will take the weekend off with plans to return Monday in their protest for higher pay from the University of Minnesota, said Laura Thielke, lead steward of the UMM clerical workers’ union.

(That's my girl, front and center, in her red ballcap.)

The American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees workers began striking Wednesday.

At UMM, strikers rallied briefly on the campus mall late Thursday morning to hear several speakers and listen to music by AFSCME member Tim Ray, a UMM employee, before returning to picket at campus entry points.

“We really think we’re doing the right thing,” Thielke said Thursday. “We know a lot of people in Morris think we have really great jobs and that we shouldn’t complain. But we want to really keep great wages in this town for people who come after us.”

The AFSCME union, which represents about 74 UMM employees, filed an intent to strike notice on behalf of its workers on four University of Minnesota campuses in late August after an overwhelming vote to reject the university’s latest offer.

(Here she is again. She looks bored, but trust me...she's fired up. She's actually just a bit beaten down by spending ten hours picketing in 95-degree heat.)

The university’s offer of pay raises of 2.25 percent for clerical and technical employees, and 2.5 percent for health care employees was rejected by what the union said was a 72 percent no vote.

Negotiations broke off about 11 p.m. Tuesday after a marathon day of bargaining. The union represents about 3,500 workers — about 17 percent of the employees in the University of Minnesota system statewide.

Thielke said the disparity between the salaries of administration and workers is a key element to the strike.

Ray, who befriended Minnesota legislator Tom Rukavina when Ray lived and taught in northern Minnesota, said he had a phone conversation with the lawmaker about the situation.

Ray reported that Rukavina said, “let there be no doubt” that the Legislature appropriated a 3.25 percent pay increase “across the board” when it passed the U of M’s appropriation.

Wendy Hyatt, a UMM employee, invoked the name of human rights activist Cesar Chavez at the rally. She noted that Chavez, who has a UMM street named for him, promoted the importance of unions and the importance of working people throughout his adult life.

“We’re not doing this for ourselves,” Hyatt said, “we’re doing this for all workers.”

UMM employee Darla Hennen said a strike is a stressful event in her life, especially financially. But it’s a way for her to show her children what is of true value.

“I thought long and hard,” Hennen said. “I can’t afford this (a strike). But I was hired as a union employee and I have to support that because that’s who’ll support me down the road.”

(And here we have the back of her head...kicking ass and standing up to The Man as only backs of heads can do.)

Striking AFSCME workers set up pickets at each of the entrances to UMM on Wednesday morning and were back at them on Thursday.

On Wednesday, Guyotte released a memo from Johnson, which stated that each AFSCME member will make the decision to strike based on their particular situation, and she asked the campus community to “respect each person’s decision and treat each other in a cordial manner as we navigate through this difficult time.”

No talks between the union and administration are pending, Thielke said.

Hang in there, my dear. Your friends are with you in spirit and we're proud of you.

Bullshit. Offensive bullshit.

2007-09-07T21:11:00.000-06:00

This is a corporate blog.

Any claims he (or she) makes to the contrary are baloney. (Actually, I should clarify in that "corporate blog" may not be the best choice of words. What it really is is an infomercial in blog format. Though, that may just be an issue of semantics because it is certainly corporate-driven and is absolutely insidious.)

And it's not that I think blogs are particularly sacred...far from it. I just do not like being fed a bunch of bullshit. And I think blogs like these - and you know damn well Texaco and Wal-Mart and Home Depot have them scattered all over the place as well - ought to be illegal...somehow...if they're not clearly identified for what they are: marketing fronts for corporations trying to either promote or defend their products.

I am so, so thoroughly sick of the dishonesty that predatory capitalism has bred in this country. And as for "John Smith"...I'm glad you don't have to worry about those pesky Chantix dreams anymore. It's got to be plenty hard to go to sleep with yourself every night as it is...

I was born on this mountain...this mountain's my home

2007-09-05T19:51:00.000-06:00

It isn't the mountain ahead that wears you out--it's the grain of sand in your shoe. - Robert Service

Well, sometimes it's the mountain. But it is a point well taken and worth pondering from time to time...

Nokia hates us all

2007-09-04T06:59:00.000-06:00

You know, I wince when I hear myself described as being "more into metal" than...well, anyone else. Which is not to say it isn't true...just that it gives me the heebies. The onset of the hair metal era is what drove me screaming from most music that even faintly resembled it. It wasn't intentional or all that conscious, but I do remember noticing how vacuous, stupid and superficial it was becoming all of a sudden. And by the time speed/thrash/death/whatever metal started to emerge as a reaction to all the silliness and disposability, I was long gone. It took years before I would even consider listening to any music that could be classified into any sub-genre with the word "metal" in the description. I remember engaging in more than a few drunken conversations in my early twenties with John and Mike and the guys in their bands about how I thought speed-metal bands like Slayer, Metallica, Venom and Anthrax were nothing more than Black Sabbath riffs on crank. Which isn't that far from the truth, really. But the album that made me reconsider my intolerance was Metallica's Garage Days Re-revisited (an EP, actually). All it was was a collection of punkish, hardcoreish cover songs, but it pointed out to me how closely related punk and metal could be. (One of the best Slayer records, FYI, is their own covers album, Undisputed Attitude. Just forty or so minutes of treating your face like a punching bag, it is beautifully brutal.) And I didn't really even like Slayer until maybe a decade or so ago when I saw their "Seasons in the Abyss" video. I was instantly hooked because I loved how dark the chorus sounded...and just the sound in general - there's a weird tension in Slayer's sound that nobody else can duplicate. A lot of it is the result of Rick Rubin's productions - you can hear it in System of a Down and the Red Hot Chili Peppers and every other hard rock band he produces. But it's also just this weirdly unnerving vibe the band generates. I can't quite put my finger on it, but you know it the second you hear it.

So if you followed the first link, you got to read Val's review of the show. Turns out, she wasn't at all alone in her assessment. And while I agree with her for the most part, I have to admit being a tad disappointed in Slayer's show. I get the feeling the band wasn't completely committed to the notion of playing an hour-long set before that numbnuts followed them and were perhaps running a bit on auto-pilot. Then again, maybe I'd just waited so long to see them live that I built them up a little too much. But even if they were on partial auto-pilot, they were still better than a lot of bands on their best nights. (Please enjoy my kick-ass camera-phone photography. Makes you feel like you were there, huh...?) And while I did think the visual setup with priddy friggin nifty - what with the light show and the speakers arranged in upside-down cross fashion just above the amps and the strobe-speed video behind them - the sound of that place last night was just for shit. The guitars were muddy, Tom Araya's voice was inaudible at times. I told Val if I didn't already know the songs, I wouldn't know what the fuck they were doing...it would have sounded just like an hour-long, super-fast thrash song to me. For a facility whose sole existence was supposed to have been predicated on state-of-the-art acoustics...it was just fucking dreadful. The whole thing was a dull roar. And you had to pay fifteen bucks to park before listening to said dull roar. That ain't right.

And the silly double-bill setup just meant, I'm assuming, a shorter-than-usual set from the band. There were a ton of songs I'd have loved to see them perform (and, yeah, I know that's a bitch everyone has about every show). I'd have been a mighty happy dude if Slayer had played another hour or so. Though, that might also be proof that they weren't playing at one hundred percent; if they had been, it would have been pretty difficult to take that kind of pounding - as an audience member - for two-plus hours.

I will say I enjoyed being reminded of the more amusing aspects of going to metal shows. Whether you're at the Enormodome or the National Guard Armory, you can always expect certain elements and events to take place at any metal show. Walking through the lobby area, you will always hear one guy who's just drunk enough bellow the next band's name for no particular reason..."Ssllaaayyerr!"...which, in turn, elicits a response in the form of a wave-like crescendo from other folks who happen to be in similar stages of inebriation...only much, much louder - "SSSLLAAAAYYERRRR!!!" Never fails to happen and it never fails to amuse me. And confound me, for that matter. Another equally reliable and equally confounding inevitability is the collective viewing pleasure one gets from observing The Metal Chick. Now, while Slayer draws a predominantly male audience, Manson brought in the chicks. So god bless him for that, I suppose. What clothing wasn't tight was at least revealing (or vice versa). I don't remember the last time I saw so much cleavage in one night. Interestingly, though, I also never once saw the on-her-boyfriend's-shoulders-peek-a-boo flash that usually starts occurring a few beers into the evening. Maybe I was asleep if it did happen.

And then there was Manson. And, yes, I did take a brief nap during his set. Frankly, I don't understand what kept everyone else awake. It was everything I feared it would be, only worse. I was expecting to at least be treated to some kind of visual extravaganza, even while the music sucked. Instead, he just kinda slithered around basking in his own self-adulation. Val's comment that he amounts to a second-rate Alice Cooper was on the mark...most of the stage props - from the "knife" microphone to the enormous, Lewis Carroll-inspired chair (which reminded me of Spinal Tap's infamous "Stonehenge" moment somehow), to the top-hat he threw on from time to time...the only things missing were a guillotine and boa constrictor. And maybe, I was hearing things, but I'm pretty certain there was some serious prerecorded "assistance" going on in Manson's set. Unfortunately, we were seated where I couldn't quite watch the one good thing about Manson's band - his fantastic drummer, Ginger Fish. Now if only Ginger would wise up, bail out, and find a real band to play with...because he is outstanding.

So, anyway...that was the Val and Danny Metal Show Experience. I owe Valerie many thanks because I'm pretty sure my ticket was a birffday gift. So thank you again, Val.

SSSLLAAAAYYERRRR!!!

fractured and crapped on

2007-09-03T16:44:00.001-06:00

I don't know what it means either.

children of the grave

2007-09-03T08:54:00.000-06:00

I usually stick something that Chris Floyd has written on this site at least a couple times a month. As much as I love him - what he stands for, what he does and how he does it - his only flaw is that he can, on occasion, throw out a few adjectives here and there that are a bit...strong, over the top, shrill. Every once in a while, one of his statements can get derailed by the fact that it sounds like something Kim Jong Il - or Saddam in his heyday - would release to the press.

But, with that in mind, I invite you all to read the following. And I challenge you all to find something - anything - worthy of dispute...

Post-Mortem America: Bush's Year of Triumph and the Hard Way Ahead

Tomorrow is here. The game is over. The crisis has passed -- and the patient is dead. Whatever dream you had about what America is, it isn't that anymore. It's gone.

So now what...?

two years

2007-09-01T07:41:00.000-06:00

it's just what I do

2007-08-30T08:38:00.000-06:00

Cindy wrote the greatest post on her blog yesterday about The Amazing Bill. It was a tribute of sorts, as KERA broadcast an essay Bill wrote for their "This I Believe" segment. Bill's essay was a perfect and beautiful crystallization of what I love so much about the guy. More than that, though, it was yet another confirmation that he and I, in my humble opinion, are flip sides to the same coin. The differences we have are pretty extreme - he's a man of strong, sincere Christian faith, whereas I'm a person with a strong, sincere (and intentional) lack of religious faith - but I find it kinda fascinating that we both arrive at those places with the same motivations driving us: compassion, admiration for people more creative than us, and a desire to serve. Someone...something...somehow. Bill's found his way to do so and he does it well. I'm still working toward getting myself into a condition where I'm able to do something I'm proud of or consider honorable - either for a living or at the very least on a consistent basis. (Maybe I need to rethink that whole religion thing...)

Cindy was "furious at the world" yesterday. Bill's essay inspired her to see events like the one she wrote about in a different light...not as a reason to be pissed off at everything but as an opportunity to contribute in a way that she finds mentally gratifying. I still think it's okay to pissed off so long as you have a purpose.

I was furious at the world yesterday, too. (What else is new...I'm usually pissed about something that's going on and, frankly, it's becoming a drain on my mental and physical health. As I've stated many times, moderation is not my strong suit.)

The reason for my anger...Without getting into politics or soapboxing, I'd just like to draw your attention to the following two articles in the hopes of finding out whether I'm alone in my conclusion that there's a disparity on display that is...well, you be the judge:

New Orleans marks Katrina anniversary

Not far away, President Bush visited a school. "We're still paying attention. We understand," he said before heading to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, also devastated by Katrina...

...(Said a man) whose house was the only restored home on an otherwise desolate block, "There was supposed to be all this money, but where'd it go? None of us got any."

Bush to request $50 billion more for Iraq war: report

The additional funds would come on top of about $460 billion in the fiscal 2008 defense budget and $147 billion in a pending supplemental bill to fund the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq...

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing the supremely talented and inspiring Kristy Kruger play the AllGood Cafe, with a really kick-ass band called Rose's Pawn Shop first backing her, then following with their own set. This show was for me what Bill's commentary was for Cindy, as it was a benefit for Hurricane Katrina relief efforts.

But the topics in the two above articles collide even more starkly if you know that Kristy's been on her own personal mission lately. Aside from - or in addition to - the fact that she lived and recorded in New Orleans and considers it her "true home," Kristy's older brother, Doug, was killed on the first day of his deployment to Iraq this past November. She plans to play shows in all fifty states in the U.S. in his honor. In her words, "Since he died in the name of this country, I'd like the country to know his name. And I'd like to see America, the whole thing. I'd like to see what he died for."

I videotaped (thanks again, Val) Kristy's tremendous show last night. I hope it turns out decent so that she and maybe Cindy can use the footage. If it winds up looking all Zapruder-film-jumbly or something, at least I got to enjoy some awesome performances, buy a copy of Kristy's third album and give a few bucks to the cause.

I considered showing the two aforementioned articles to Kristy last night. Not to push an agenda on her, but to see what her reaction would be. But something told me it would be inappropriate or insensitive (or both) to do so.

I'll get into the politics and ranting and raving about this later (trust me). In the meantime, I guess I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank Bill and Cindy and Kristy for inspiring me. And reminding me to do something with what hurts or angers me. To serve...somehow.

Is our children learning...?

2007-08-28T05:44:00.000-06:00

I think something just ruptured in my head...

puzzle

2007-08-27T04:50:00.000-06:00

Well, true to my flavorite band's history to this point, they're playing just a few shows (so far) with another band I really love. And, of course, they won't be setting foot anywhere near Texas...

More Dates For Queens Of The Stone Age

Queens Of The Stone Age have added a handful of new dates to their tour itinerary. Following an August 24 opening slot appearance with Rage Against The Machine, the hard rocking Queens will head to Canada before returning to the States September 14, continuing their live support behind their fifth and most recent LP, Era Vulagris (Interscope). Scottish trio Biffy Clyro will join the tour in October as an opener, showcasing tracks off their US debut Puzzle, to be released September 18 (Roadrunner Records).

Dammit. I'll totally be at the QOTSA show in Dallas, but it would be a dream bill to see them play with Biffy. I'm telling you, I'm going to just go apeshit when those guys finally make it down here

wanted: amusing cliche about ships

2007-08-23T09:42:00.000-06:00

Can't think of anything cute and/or clever to kick this post off...hate it when that happens. Anyway, I just thought I'd share a couple nice, inspirational-type quotes that by sheer coincidence both have to do with ships...

A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.
- William Shedd

If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people together to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the sea.
- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I particularly appreciate the latter quote, as it kinda speaks to the faint goals I have in mind for myself at the moment. "Sink or swim" will have to wait until I figure out how deep or rough these waters are going to be...

us and them

2007-08-21T19:34:00.000-06:00

I know this is a long article, but please read it. Dammit.

The Unseen Lies: Journalism As Propaganda
by John Pilger

(The following is a transcript of a talk given by John Pilger at Socialism 2007 Conference in Chicago this past June.)

The title of this talk is Freedom Next Time, which is the title of my book, and the book is meant as an antidote to the propaganda that is so often disguised as journalism. So I thought I would talk today about journalism, about war by journalism, propaganda, and silence, and how that silence might be broken. Edward Bernays, the so-called father of public relations, wrote about an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. He was referring to journalism, the media. That was almost 80 years ago, not long after corporate journalism was invented. It is a history few journalist talk about or know about, and it began with the arrival of corporate advertising. As the new corporations began taking over the press, something called “professional journalism” was invented. To attract big advertisers, the new corporate press had to appear respectable, pillars of the establishment-objective, impartial, balanced. The first schools of journalism were set up, and a mythology of liberal neutrality was spun around the professional journalist. The right to freedom of expression was associated with the new media and with the great corporations, and the whole thing was, as Robert McChesney put it so well, “entirely bogus”.

For what the public did not know was that in order to be professional, journalists had to ensure that news and opinion were dominated by official sources, and that has not changed. Go through the New York Times on any day, and check the sources of the main political stories-domestic and foreign-you’ll find they’re dominated by government and other established interests. That is the essence of professional journalism. I am not suggesting that independent journalism was or is excluded, but it is more likely to be an honorable exception. Think of the role Judith Miller played in the New York Times in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq. Yes, her work became a scandal, but only after it played a powerful role in promoting an invasion based on lies. Yet, Miller’s parroting of official sources and vested interests was not all that different from the work of many famous Times reporters, such as the celebrated W.H. Lawrence, who helped cover up the true effects of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima in August, 1945. “No Radioactivity in Hiroshima Ruin,” was the headline on his report, and it was false.

Consider how the power of this invisible government has grown. In 1983 the principle global media was owned by 50 corporations, most of them American. In 2002 this had fallen to just 9 corporations. Today it is probably about 5. Rupert Murdoch has predicted that there will be just three global media giants, and his company will be one of them. This concentration of power is not exclusive of course to the United States. The BBC has announced it is expanding its broadcasts to the United States, because it believes Americans want principled, objective, neutral journalism for which the BBC is famous. They have launched BBC America. You may have seen the advertising.

The BBC began in 1922, just before the corporate press began in America. Its founder was Lord John Reith, who believed that impartiality and objectivity were the essence of professionalism. In the same year the British establishment was under siege. The unions had called a general strike and the Tories were terrified that a revolution was on the way. The new BBC came to their rescue. In high secrecy, Lord Reith wrote anti-union speeches for the Tory Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin and broadcast them to the nation, while refusing to allow the labor leaders to put their side until the strike was over.

So, a pattern was set. Impartiality was a principle certainly: a principle to be suspended whenever the establishment was under threat. And that principle has been upheld ever since.

Take the invasion of Iraq. There are two studies of the BBC’s reporting. One shows that the BBC gave just 2 percent of its coverage of Iraq to antiwar dissent-2 percent. That is less than the antiwar coverage of ABC, NBC, and CBS. A second study by the University of Wales shows that in the buildup to the invasion, 90 percent of the BBC’s references to weapons of mass destruction suggested that Saddam Hussein actually possessed them, and that by clear implication Bush and Blair were right. We now know that the BBC and other British media were used by the British secret intelligence service MI-6. In what they called Operation Mass Appeal, MI-6 agents planted stories about Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction, such as weapons hidden in his palaces and in secret underground bunkers. All of these stories were fake. But that’s not the point. The point is that the work of MI-6 was unnecessary, because professional journalism on its own would have produced the same result.

Listen to the BBC’s man in Washington, Matt Frei, shortly after the invasion. “There is not doubt,” he told viewers in the UK and all over the world, “That the desire to bring good, to bring American values to the rest of the world, and especially now in the Middle East, is especially tied up with American military power.” In 2005 the same reporter lauded the architect of the invasion, Paul Wolfowitz, as someone who “believes passionately in the power of democracy and grassroots development.” That was before the little incident at the World Bank.

None of this is unusual. BBC news routinely describes the invasion as a miscalculation. Not Illegal, not unprovoked, not based on lies, but a miscalculation.

The words “mistake” and “blunder” are common BBC news currency, along with “failure”-which at least suggests that if the deliberate, calculated, unprovoked, illegal assault on defenseless Iraq had succeeded, that would have been just fine. Whenever I hear these words I remember Edward Herman’s marvelous essay about normalizing the unthinkable. For that’s what media clichéd language does and is designed to do-it normalizes the unthinkable; of the degradation of war, of severed limbs, of maimed children, all of which I’ve seen. One of my favorite stories about the Cold War concerns a group of Russian journalists who were touring the United States. On the final day of their visit, they were asked by the host for their impressions. “I have to tell you,” said the spokesman, “that we were astonished to find after reading all the newspapers and watching TV day after day that all the opinions on all the vital issues are the same. To get that result in our country we send journalists to the gulag. We even tear out their fingernails. Here you don’t have to do any of that. What is the secret?”

What is the secret? It is a question seldom asked in newsrooms, in media colleges, in journalism journals, and yet the answer to that question is critical to the lives of millions of people. On August 24 last year the New York Times declared this in an editorial: “If we had known then what we know now the invasion if Iraq would have been stopped by a popular outcry.” This amazing admission was saying, in effect, that journalists had betrayed the public by not doing their job and by accepting and amplifying and echoing the lies of Bush and his gang, instead of challenging them and exposing them. What the Times didn’t say was that had that paper and the rest of the media exposed the lies, up to a million people might be alive today. That’s the belief now of a number of senior establishment journalists. Few of them-they’ve spoken to me about it-few of them will say it in public.

Ironically, I began to understand how censorship worked in so-called free societies when I reported from totalitarian societies. During the 1970s I filmed secretly in Czechoslovakia, then a Stalinist dictatorship. I interviewed members of the dissident group Charter 77, including the novelist Zdener Urbanek, and this is what he told me. “In dictatorships we are more fortunate that you in the West in one respect. We believe nothing of what we read in the newspapers and nothing of what we watch on television, because we know its propaganda and lies. Unlike you in the West. We’ve learned to look behind the propaganda and to read between the lines, and unlike you, we know that the real truth is always subversive.”

Vandana Shiva has called this subjugated knowledge. The great Irish muckraker Claud Cockburn got it right when he wrote, “Never believe anything until it’s officially denied.”

One of the oldest clichés of war is that truth is the first casualty. No it’s not. Journalism is the first casualty. When the Vietnam War was over, the magazine Encounter published an article by Robert Elegant, a distinguished correspondent who had covered the war. “For the first time in modern history,” he wrote, the outcome of a war was determined not on the battlefield, but on the printed page, and above all on the television screen.” He held journalists responsible for losing the war by opposing it in their reporting. Robert Elegant’s view became the received wisdom in Washington and it still is. In Iraq the Pentagon invented the embedded journalist because it believed that critical reporting had lost Vietnam.

The very opposite was true. On my first day as a young reporter in Saigon, I called at the bureaus of the main newspapers and TV companies. I noticed that some of them had a pinboard on the wall on which were gruesome photographs, mostly of bodies of Vietnamese and of American soldiers holding up severed ears and testicles. In one office was a photograph of a man being tortured; above the torturers head was a stick-on comic balloon with the words, “that’ll teach you to talk to the press.” None of these pictures were ever published or even put on the wire. I asked why. I was told that the public would never accept them. Anyway, to publish them would not be objective or impartial. At first, I accepted the apparent logic of this. I too had grown up on stories of the good war against Germany and Japan, that ethical bath that cleansed the Anglo-American world of all evil. But the longer I stayed in Vietnam, the more I realized that our atrocities were not isolated, nor were they aberrations, but the war itself was an atrocity. That was the big story, and it was seldom news. Yes, the tactics and effectiveness of the military were questioned by some very fine reporters. But the word “invasion” was never used. The anodyne word used was “involved.” America was involved in Vietnam. The fiction of a well-intentioned, blundering giant, stuck in an Asian quagmire, was repeated incessantly. It was left to whistleblowers back home to tell the subversive truth, those like Daniel Ellsberg and Seymour Hersh, with his scoop of the My-Lai massacre. There were 649 reporters in Vietnam on March 16, 1968-the day that the My-Lai massacre happened-and not one of them reported it.

In both Vietnam and Iraq, deliberate policies and strategies have bordered on genocide. In Vietnam, the forced dispossession of millions of people and the creation of free fire zones; In Iraq, an American-enforced embargo that ran through the 1990s like a medieval siege, and killed, according to the United Nations Children’s fund, half a million children under the age of five. In both Vietnam and Iraq, banned weapons were used against civilians as deliberate experiments. Agent Orange changed the genetic and environmental order in Vietnam. The military called this Operation Hades. When Congress found out, it was renamed the friendlier Operation Ranch Hand, and nothing change. That’s pretty much how Congress has reacted to the war in Iraq. The Democrats have damned it, rebranded it, and extended it. The Hollywood movies that followed the Vietnam War were an extension of the journalism, of normalizing the unthinkable. Yes, some of the movies were critical of the military’s tactics, but all of them were careful to concentrate on the angst of the invaders. The first of these movies is now considered a classic. It’s The Deerhunter, whose message was that America had suffered, America was stricken, American boys had done their best against oriental barbarians. The message was all the more pernicious, because the Deerhunter was brilliantly made and acted. I have to admit it’s the only movie that has made me shout out loud in a Cinema in protest. Oliver Stone’s acclaimed movie Platoon was said to be antiwar, and it did show glimpses of the Vietnamese as human beings, but it also promoted above all the American invader as victim.

I wasn’t going to mention The Green Berets when I set down to write this, until I read the other day that John Wayne was the most influential movie who ever lived. I a saw the Green Berets starring John Wayne on a Saturday night in 1968 in Montgomery Alabama. (I was down there to interview the then-infamous governor George Wallace). I had just come back from Vietnam, and I couldn’t believe how absurd this movie was. So I laughed out loud, and I laughed and laughed. And it wasn’t long before the atmosphere around me grew very cold. My companion, who had been a Freedom Rider in the South, said, “Let’s get the hell out of here and run like hell.”

We were chased all the way back to our hotel, but I doubt if any of our pursuers were aware that John Wayne, their hero, had lied so he wouldn’t have to fight in World War II. And yet the phony role model of Wayne sent thousands of Americans to their deaths in Vietnam, with the notable exceptions of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney.

Last year, in his acceptance of the Nobel Prize for Literature, the playwright Harold Pinter made an epoch speech. He asked why, and I quote him, “The systematic brutality, the widespread atrocities, the ruthless suppression of independent thought in Stalinist Russia were well know in the West, while American state crimes were merely superficially recorded, left alone, documented.” And yet across the world the extinction and suffering of countless human beings could be attributed to rampant American power. “But,” said Pinter, “You wouldn’t know it. It never happened. Nothing ever happened. Even while it was happening it wasn’t happening. It didn’t matter. It was of no interest.” Pinter’s words were more than the surreal. The BBC ignored the speech of Britain’s most famous dramatist.

I’ve made a number of documentaries about Cambodia. The first was Year Zero: the Silent Death of Cambodia. It describes the American bombing that provided the catalyst for the rise of Pol Pot. What Nixon and Kissinger had started, Pol Pot completed-CIA files alone leave no doubt of that. I offered Year Zero to PBS and took it to Washington. The PBS executives who saw it were shocked. They whispered among themselves. They asked me to wait outside. One of them finally emerged and said, “John, we admire your film. But we are disturbed that it says the United States prepared the way for Pol Pot.”

I said, “Do you dispute the evidence?” I had quoted a number of CIA documents. “Oh, no,” he replied. “But we’ve decided to call in a journalistic adjudicator.”

Now the term “journalist adjudicator” might have been invented by George Orwell. In fact they managed to find one of only three journalists who had been invited to Cambodia by Pol Pot. And of course he turned his thumbs down on the film, and I never heard from PBS again. Year Zero was broadcast in some 60 countries and became one of the most watched documentaries in the world. It was never shown in the United States. Of the five films I have made on Cambodia, one of them was shown by WNET, the PBS station in New York. I believe it was shown at about one in the morning. On the basis of this single showing, when most people are asleep, it was awarded an Emmy. What marvelous irony. It was worthy of a prize but not an audience.

Harold Pinter’s subversive truth, I believe, was that he made the connection between imperialism and fascism, and described a battle for history that’s almost never reported. This is the great silence of the media age. And this is the secret heart of propaganda today. A propaganda so vast in scope that I’m always astonished that so many Americans know and understand as much as they do. We are talking about a system, of course, not personalities. And yet, a great many people today think that the problem is George W. Bush and his gang. And yes, the Bush gang are extreme. But my experience is that they are no more than an extreme version of what has gone on before. In my lifetime, more wars have been started by liberal Democrats than by Republicans. Ignoring this truth is a guarantee that the propaganda system and the war-making system will continue. We’ve had a branch of the Democratic party running Britain for the last 10 years. Blair, apparently a liberal, has taken Britain to war more times than any prime minister in the modern era. Yes, his current pal is George Bush, but his first love was Bill Clinton, the most violent president of the late 20th century. Blair’s successor, Gordon Brown is also a devotee of Clinton and Bush. The other day, Brown said, “The days of Britain having to apologize for the British Empire are over. We should celebrate.”

Like Blair, like Clinton, like Bush, Brown believes in the liberal truth that the battle for history has been won; that the millions who died in British-imposed famines in British imperial India will be forgotten-like the millions who have died in the American Empire will be forgotten. And like Blair, his successor is confident that professional journalism is on his side. For most journalists, whether they realize it or not, are groomed to be tribunes of an ideology that regards itself as non-ideological, that presents itself as the natural center, the very fulcrum of modern life. This may very well be the most powerful and dangerous ideology we have ever known because it is open-ended. This is liberalism. I’m not denying the virtues of liberalism-far from it. We are all beneficiaries of them. But if we deny its dangers, its open-ended project, and the all-consuming power of its propaganda, then we deny our right to true democracy, because liberalism and true democracy are not the same. Liberalism began as a preserve of the elite in the 19th century, and true democracy is never handed down by elites. It is always fought for and struggled for.

A senior member of the antiwar coalition, United For Peace and Justice, said recently, and I quote her, “The Democrats are using the politics of reality.” Her liberal historical reference point was Vietnam. She said that President Johnson began withdrawing troops from Vietnam after a Democratic Congress began to vote against the war. That’s not what happened. The troops were withdrawn from Vietnam after four long years. And during that time the United States killed more people in Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos with bombs than were killed in all the preceding years. And that’s what’s happening in Iraq. The bombing has doubled since last year, and this is not being reported. And who began this bombing? Bill Clinton began it. During the 1990s Clinton rained bombs on Iraq in what were euphemistically called the “no fly zones.” At the same time he imposed a medieval siege called economic sanctions, killing as I’ve mentioned, perhaps a million people, including a documented 500,000 children. Almost none of this carnage was reported in the so-called mainstream media. Last year a study published by the Johns Hopkins School of Public Health found that since the invasion of Iraq 655, 000 Iraqis had died as a direct result of the invasion. Official documents show that the Blair government knew this figure to be credible. In February, Les Roberts, the author of the report, said the figure was equal to the figure for deaths in the Fordham University study of the Rwandan genocide. The media response to Robert’s shocking revelation was silence. What may well be the greatest episode of organized killing for a generation, in Harold Pinter’s words, “Did not happen. It didn’t matter.”

Many people who regard themselves on the left supported Bush’s attack on Afghanistan. That the CIA had supported Osama Bin Laden was ignored, that the Clinton administration had secretly backed the Taliban, even giving them high-level briefings at the CIA, is virtually unknown in the United States. The Taliban were secret partners with the oil giant Unocal in building an oil pipeline across Afghanistan. And when a Clinton official was reminded that the Taliban persecuted women, he said, “We can live with that.” There is compelling evidence that Bush decided to attack the Taliban not as a result of 9-11, but two months earlier, in July of 2001. This is virtually unknown in the United States-publicly. Like the scale of civilian casualties in Afghanistan. To my knowledge only one mainstream reporter, Jonathan Steele of the Guardian in London, has investigated civilian casualties in Afghanistan, and his estimate is 20,000 dead civilians, and that was three years ago.

The enduring tragedy of Palestine is due in great part to the silence and compliance of the so-called liberal left. Hamas is described repeatedly as sworn to the destruction of Israel. The New York Times, the Associated Press, the Boston Globe-take your pick. They all use this line as a standard disclaimer, and it is false. That Hamas has called for a ten-year ceasefire is almost never reported. Even more important, that Hamas has undergone an historic ideological shift in the last few years, which amounts to a recognition of what it calls the reality of Israel, is virtually unknown; and that Israel is sworn to the destruction of Palestine is unspeakable.

There is a pioneering study by Glasgow University on the reporting of Palestine. They interviewed young people who watch TV news in Britain. More than 90 percent thought the illegal settlers were Palestinian. The more they watched, the less they knew-Danny Schecter’s famous phrase.

The current most dangerous silence is over nuclear weapons and the return of the Cold War. The Russians understand clearly that the so-called American defense shield in Eastern Europe is designed to subjugate and humiliate them. Yet the front pages here talk about Putin starting a new Cold War, and there is silence about the development of an entirely new American nuclear system called Reliable Weapons Replacement (RRW), which is designed to blur the distinction between conventional war and nuclear war-a long-held ambition.

In the meantime, Iran is being softened up, with the liberal media playing almost the same role it played before the Iraq invasion. And as for the Democrats, look at how Barak Obama has become the voice of the Council on Foreign Relations, one of the propaganda organs of the old liberal Washington establishment. Obama writes that while he wants the troops home, “We must not rule out military force against long-standing adversaries such as Iran and Syria.” Listen to this from the liberal Obama: “At moment of great peril in the past century our leaders ensured that America, by deed and by example, led and lifted the world, that we stood and fought for the freedom sought by billions of people beyond their borders.”

That is the nub of the propaganda, the brainwashing if you like, that seeps into the lives of every American, and many of us who are not Americans. From right to left, secular to God-fearing, what so few people know is that in the last half century, United States adminstrations have overthrown 50 governments-many of them democracies. In the process, thirty countries have been attacked and bombed, with the loss of countless lives. Bush bashing is all very well-and is justified-but the moment we begin to accept the siren call of the Democrat’s drivel about standing up and fighting for freedom sought by billions, the battle for history is lost, and we ourselves are silenced.

So what should we do? That question often asked in meetings I have addressed, even meetings as informed as those in this conference, is itself interesting. It’s my experience that people in the so-called third world rarely ask the question, because they know what to do. And some have paid with their freedom and their lives, but they knew what to do. It’s a question that many on the democratic left-small “d”-have yet to answer.

Real information, subversive information, remains the most potent power of all-and I believe that we must not fall into the trap of believing that the media speaks for the public. That wasn’t true in Stalinist Czechoslovakia and it isn’t true of the United States.

In all the years I’ve been a journalist, I’ve never know public consciousness to have risen as fast as it’s rising today. Yes, its direction and shape is unclear, partly because people are now deeply suspicious of political alternatives, and because the Democratic Party has succeeded in seducing and dividing the electoral left. And yet this growing critical public awareness is all the more remarkable when you consider the sheer scale of indoctrination, the mythology of a superior way of life, and the current manufactured state of fear.

Why did the New York Times come clean in that editorial last year? Not because it opposes Bush’s wars-look at the coverage of Iran. That editorial was a rare acknowledgement that the public was beginning to see the concealed role of the media, and that people were beginning to read between the lines.

If Iran is attacked, the reaction and the upheaval cannot be predicted. The national security and homeland security presidential directive gives Bush power over all facets of government in an emergency. It is not unlikely the constitution will be suspended-the laws to round of hundreds of thousands of so-called terrorists and enemy combatants are already on the books. I believe that these dangers are understood by the public, who have come along way since 9-11, and a long way since the propaganda that linked Saddam Hussein to al-Qaeda. That’s why they voted for the Democrats last November, only to be betrayed. But they need truth, and journalists ought to be agents of truth, not the courtiers of power.

I believe a fifth estate is possible, the product of a people’s movement, that monitors, deconstructs, and counters the corporate media. In every university, in every media college, in every news room, teachers of journalism, journalists themselves need to ask themselves about the part they now play in the bloodshed in the name of a bogus objectivity. Such a movement within the media could herald a perestroika of a kind that we have never known. This is all possible. Silences can be broken. In Britain the National Union of Journalists has undergone a radical change, and has called for a boycott of Israel. The web site Medialens.org has single-handedly called the BBC to account. In the United States wonderfully free rebellious spirits populate the web-I can’t mention them all here-from Tom Feeley’s International Clearing House, to Mike Albert’s ZNet, to Counterpunch online, and the splendid work of FAIR. The best reporting of Iraq appears on the web-Dahr Jamail’s courageous journalism; and citizen reporters like Joe Wilding, who reported the siege of Fallujah from inside the city.

In Venezuela, Greg Wilpert’s investigations turned back much of the virulent propaganda now aimed at Hugo Chávez. Make no mistake, it’s the threat of freedom of speech for the majority in Venezuela that lies behind the campaign in the west on behalf of the corrupt RCTV. The challenge for the rest of us is to lift this subjugated knowledge from out of the underground and take it to ordinary people.

We need to make haste. Liberal Democracy is moving toward a form of corporate dictatorship. This is an historic shift, and the media must not be allowed to be its façade, but itself made into a popular, burning issue, and subjected to direct action. That great whistleblower Tom Paine warned that if the majority of the people were denied the truth and the ideas of truth, it was time to storm what he called the Bastille of words. That time is now.

these days, it's not hard to be an angry American...

2007-08-19T20:32:00.000-06:00

a good pal, indeed

2007-08-19T09:59:00.000-06:00

The fantabulous Cindy Chaffin decided to slum it a bit and asked me to write a little something about my experience at the recent Dallas Observer Music Awards. I'm just glad she was as amused by my technological retardation as I was...

Thanks for the ticket, Cindy. And your support of whatever the heck it is I do is very, very much appreciated and more than a little inspiring. You remain, as the kids say, the shit.

nobody does it better...

2007-08-06T17:07:00.001-06:00

Well, a few people might on occasion. But it doesn't seem to matter as no one pays any attention, anyway. But here's a great post for those of us of the anti-party persuasion...

Danse Macabre: An Apology to Democrats

God bless Chris Floyd. I don't know how independent journalists and/or bloggers do it anymore. If they have day jobs for the likes of my employers, anyway...

fair to mediocre

2007-08-05T10:40:00.000-06:00

You know, I really wanted to like these guys. For one reason, they're local...they've been plugging away for almost as long as I can remember. I saw them for the first and only time years ago at the Galaxy Club opening for Prong. At that time, I recall them being a lot more Deftones-ish than they apparently are now, and my mental review of them was that they weren't bad as a band - they had potential, but there was something about the singer that bothered me. So I blew them off.

Now, they're getting a big push as Serj Tankian - who I adore on a number of different levels - has "discovered" and signed them to his label. (It should be noted, though, that while I think the world of Serj, his taste in music doesn't quite match his talent as an artist/activist. System of a Down had some bunch called Bad Acid Trip - another Serjical Strike band - opening their Dallas show with The Mars Volta. Though they were unique and seemed to have some degree of promise, Bad Acid Trip were otherwise mostly just annoying.)

I made the mistake of listening to clips of a couple of the new Fair to Midland songs on their MySpace page, thought they sounded interesting, and bought the album. I gave the CD two complete listens and couldn't stomach any more of it. It was utterly precise, utterly slick, utterly without passion or originality...a homogenized, generic version of System of a Down. Like Incubus or something. I couldn't dump that fucking thing off on some other unsuspecting schmuck on Lala.com fast enough...

So, much like a good thing breeds a plethora of pale imitations and cheap knock-offs (Nirvana...Silverchair and Creed; Rage Against the Machine...Limp Bizkit and that's enough said about that), System of a Down appears to have wrought its own wave of SOAD-lite bands. A textbook example of which, sadly, comes from Dallas. And even more inexplicably is being aided and abetted by a System principal. Blech.

In the meantime, my favorite band on the planet have put out a thoroughly kick-ass new record. I am a happy camper. For reasons I still don't understand, these guys have yet to get even the teensiest amount of promotion in the U.S. (to the point where I had to buy their second record from Beggars UK and the new one from, I'm ashamed to admit, Amazon UK, because neither have even been released in the states); they're barely known outside Europe...where I gather they're pretty big. Anyway, please visit their site and check out a few of the videos from their new album, Puzzle. If I had a dream band, it would sound like BC. God, I love 'em...

the mind of Mencia, indeed...

2007-07-28T14:58:00.000-06:00

As someone who has despised the poor-man's-Dave-Chappelle shtick of "Carlos Mencia" for as long as his crappy show's been on Comedy Central, I was thrilled to hear about Joe Rogan busting "Mencia's" balls in public. Which, if this link works, will tell you all you need to know about that douchebag hack...

Now if he would just shut the fuck up already. I cannot believe there are people in the world who find him funny. Then again, there is Larry the Cable Guy, so anything's possible...

PS - How do you know you suck? If Gene Simmons wants to do a guest appearance on your show.

please stand by...

2007-07-22T13:09:00.000-06:00

We are experiencing technical difficulties.

(Actually, they're a bit more existential than technical, but whatever.)

We will be returning to regularly scheduled programming when whatever bugs we're dealing with here have been worked out. In the meantime, you should go out and get some exercise or something...

RIP, miss Izzy

2007-07-08T19:31:00.000-06:00

It didn't end the way any of us hoped. We are crushed.

You deserved better but that kind of illness is sometimes beyond anyone's control.

At least your last month or so on this planet was spent with a family that doted on you, loved and cared for you as much as anyone could have.

Thank you for gracing us with a small portion of your life. You were a special creature and we will never forget you.

happy Independence Day

2007-07-02T19:14:00.000-06:00

I'm sick. Though, not surprised...

Bush Commutes Libby Prison Sentence

Monday 02 July 2007

Bush spares Libby from prison term.

Washington - President Bush commuted the sentence of former aide I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby Monday, sparing him from a 2 1/2-year prison term in the CIA leak case.

Bush left intact a $250,000 fine and two years probation for Libby, according to a senior White House official, who spoke on condition of anonymity because the decision had not been announced.

Bush's move came hours after a federal appeals panel ruled Libby could not delay his prison term in the CIA leak case. That decision put the pressure on the president, who had been sidestepping calls by Libby's allies to pardon the former chief of staff to Vice President Dick Cheney.

Libby was convicted in March of lying to authorities and obstructing the investigation into the 2003 leak of CIA operative's identity. He was the highest-ranking White House official ordered to prison since the Iran-Contra affair.

So this adminstration, with its unyielding concern for democracy, hunting down "evildoers," promoting historically American ideals, prosecuting those deemed threats to freedom and the American way of life (when they're not secreting them abroad for torture outside the realm of our own and international laws) has made it clear: treason, when committed by a political ally...no, let me rephrase that - committed by commission of the president's office...is officially a pardonable offense.

Nice. May Dubya's god bless America.

the kid is alright

2007-06-01T04:48:00.000-06:00

The Amazing Fred gets his original online pub immortalized in print...

Hipster Jr.

Love it. Yay, Fred.

the nation of China will kill us all (if the neocons don't get to it first)...

2007-05-17T18:26:00.000-06:00

Capitalism, Communism And Cat Food

So we have recently been reading about all that contaminated cat food (also dog food and feed for some other animals) that had to be recalled because it was full of Chinese wheat gluten. The NY Times reports (5/3/07) that thousands of animals have become sick or died (according to the FDA 4000 dogs and cats have died already). How did it happen?

We all know that capitalists guiding interest is to make the biggest possible profit. They hate regulations (bad for business) and when they are regulated will try to get around the regulations anyway they can.

The Bush administration, very capitalist friendly, has really helped the American capitalists by pushing deregulation, supporting "voluntary compliance" (i.e., no compliance), and failing to use the federal regulatory agencies to really regulate. Thus OSHA doesn't inspect, the Labor Department doesn't properly function, we don't how much mad cow disease is in the country because of the Agriculture Department, unsafe drugs are on the market because of the FDA, etc., across. Bush is the best president for business, the worse for people.

Now the Chinese are finding out how capitalism works as well. The Times reported earlier that the same contaminant that is killing American pets is routinely put into people food in China as well as animal feed.

The chemical is melamine. It has the wonderful property (besides making you sick and maybe killing you) of showing up on food testing not as melamine but as protein-- it is also very cheap. So, if the food product you are making to sell doesn't have enough protein so you could not pass government inspection and sell it, just dump some melamine into it, definitely don't list this in your ingredients, and Presto Change-O, your product now passes with flying colors as good nutritious food (just don't eat any of it yourself, or, if its pet food, let your own pets near it.)

Even better, just use the melamine in your product because it is so cheap so you don't have to put so much expensive protein in your product in the first place.

This is par for the course for capitalism. The Times tells us that, "A similar practice once took place in the United States and in China involving a related compound called urea, but that compound is now more widely tested for and is banned from certain feeds in the United States."

The Xuzhou Anying Biologic Technology Development Company, operating under the "its good to get rich slogan" is, the Times says, one of the two companies that sent the tainted wheat gluten to the US.

They got the stuff out of China by labeling it as nonfood so they were not inspected. That means they knew what was going on. They then sold it to the American pet food companies as a food additive. Goodbye Fluffy!

The theory is that the two firms that sold the food additive didn't even make it (although they are on record as having done so). They just bought it from many little companies around China (the Chinese government said 25 other companies were in on it), which indicates that there is wide spread food contamination going on in the country.

"This is simple greed," said Marion Nestle, an NYU professor of public health, food and nutrition. Its really not all that simple. It is rather just how capitalism works. It tries in every way to maximize its profits. That is why deregulation is a bad idea.

Capitalism is an inherently self destructive system, its leads to environmental pollution, wars to gain control of markets and resources, and exploitation of workers and consumers. The more government regulates it the less dangerous it is, but the danger will always be there until the day we can abolish the system altogether.

aminal stories, part 2 - little dog

2007-05-16T06:34:00.000-06:00

Here's a nice example of why the no-kill philosophy works and should be implemented nationwide as soon as possible...

Sandra Luhring-Mustafa manages the only no-kill animal sanctuary/shelter in the city of Dallas, the Humane Society of Dallas County (aka Dog & Kitty City). I know her and them because I've been volunteering with them for over four years and cannot imagine my life without the presence of that organization involved somehow. Anyway, I'm a little fuzzy on the particulars, but Sandra's daughter was visiting the Dallas SPCA facility - which claims to be no-kill to an extent, but really isn't - and encountered a very special little dog. The dog, a six year-old, somewhat overweight, bug-eyed female Chihuahua was scheduled to be euthanized...most likely because she had a tick-born disease called Erlichia. Now, while the disease itself is not necessarily fatal, the medications needed to treat it are fairly expensive...thus, I'm guessing, the decision to put her down. Instead, Sandra's daughter "rescued" the Chihuahua from the SPCA and brought her to us at DKC.

I was visiting DKC one Saturday a few weeks ago and saw this very odd looking, pudgy Chihuahua amongst all the cats who was following Sandra all over the shelter (stopping for a few quick bites of cat food from every bowl in the dog's path). Noticing the frou-frou rose-covered collar on the dog (and the bright pink toenails), I asked Sandra about the dog. Sandra said they'd all been calling the dog "Chiweewee" and filled me in on the rest of the story. Chiweewee was so immediately endearing and amusing that I found myself wanting to take her home with me right then...she was smaller than almost all the cats, didn't mind being around the cats because of her laid back personality (not the typical yippy, hyperactive Chihuahua by any means - and the cats, in turn, couldn't have cared less that she was there), and because of her chubby little body, the dog had the cutest little waddle when she walked. I picked her up and carried her around, talking to her while her tail wagged at a somewhat relaxed pace the whole time, then put her back down to watch her continue to waddle around the rooms looking for Sandra. Obviously though, I could not take Chiweewee home, what with my very animal-intolerant cat.

The next day I was visiting with my family and mentioned the dog to my mom and sister, Debbie, knowing that she had toyed with the idea of getting a dog but struggled with the issues most apartment-dwellers have to consider with dogs...space, finding time in a busy schedule for walks, etc. But I also told them about the dog, hoping my sister would say something along the lines of, "Well, you know I'm going to go have to check that dog out..." And, of course, that's exactly what happened.

So on Monday, my sister drags my mom up to the shelter to see the Chihuahua and found themselves as smitten with her as I was. It was a no-brainer for Debbie and she adopted the dog right then and there. (Well, she filled out the application forms and got the process started.) Soon after, the dog had a new home and a new, permanent family. My sister, mom and Chiweewee were on the front porch of my parents' house to greet my niece, Caroline, when she got home from school. Needless to say, it was love at first sight for the niece as well.

The dog, now named Izzy - short for Isabel, if I'm spelling that correctly - has fit into her new home effortlessly. Her two cat roommates, Nancy and Winchester (also DKC adoptions), gave Izzy the requisite cat greeting (indifference...which is definitely preferable to hostility, the other possible feline reaction) and promptly resumed their normal lives. However, they've both since taken to the dog with great affection, and go out of their way to try and groom Izzy when possible. I don't have any pics of this yet, but I'm told it's a very sweet and funny scene.

Izzy's condition is a bit worse than we all first estimated and she's had to make more trips to the vet than anticipated, but things are otherwise going quite well and it's looking like the dog will have a long, happy, comfortable life with Debbie, Caroline, Winchester and Nancy. And, of course, an extended human family of grandparents and an uncle who find her endlessly charming and amusing.

As you can see from the pics, Miss Izzy has quite the dainty personality...very low-key (the only sound she's been heard to make is the growl she uses when playing), a bit shy, as sweet and affectionate as can be, and very pleased to be among people and critters who enjoy her company.

I don't know the details of Izzy's first six years, but obviously none of this would have been possible had Sandra's daughter not rescued the dog from being put down - for no legitimate reason - at the Dallas SPCA. But I do know stories like this one happen every day all over the country where no-kill organizations can be found. Sandra - and Sandra's daughter (whose name I don't know) - my family and Chiweewee-Izzy thank you.

aminal stories, part 1 - big turtle

2007-05-15T18:52:00.000-06:00

A man heard a faint knock on his front door. He opens the door and looks around, sees nothing, and closes the door to resume his activities. A few minutes later...another round of faint knocking on the door. The man goes to the door, opens it, again sees no one there, and irritatedly slams the door shut, assuming some of the neighborhood kids are messing with him. A few more minutes pass and the man once more hears the now infuriating quiet knocking on his front door. He gets up, stomps to the front door and flings it open. Seething and glaring in all directions, he again sees no one there. Just before he starts to yell at whomever has chosen to prank him, he happens to look down and sees a small turtle peering up at him. "You've got to be kidding me..." the man says, disgustedly. The man angrily grabs the turtle and hurls him across the street into the open field from which it presumably came.

Two years pass until one day when the man again hears a faint knocking at his front door. He opens the door and scans his eyes in all directions, seeing no one around. Until he decides to look down. Flabbergasted, the man looks down to see the little turtle peering up at him once more. Before the man could react, though, the turtle blurts out, "Hey! What the fuck was that all about?!?"

Although I botched it pretty badly, the above was one of my favorite jokes years ago. In the original joke, though, the persistant critter was a snail - which does make a bit more sense. But I couldn't help remembering the joke when we had quite an eventful...um, event late one afternoon last week.

Somehow, and I'm still at a loss to figure it out, a pretty decent sized (for an urban area, I would imagine) turtle found itself sitting in the middle of our parking lot. This was especially frightening because, a) the turtle was in no hurry to get anywhere (a common characteristic of turtles, as you well know) and, b) our parking lot at work is no ordinary parking lot - there's a fairly steady stream of eighteen-wheelers chugging through to pick up or drop of their cargo at our warehouse. Not the best place for any creature to be making itself comfortable, particularly one not known for its fleetness of foot.

Being the Office Animal Guy, I was summoned and went outside to move the turtle. After getting a few snapshots for the sake of posterity - these events don't happen all the time, you know - I picked the little guy (or gal) up and carried it over to the somewhat wooded sewer/creek that runs between the two buildings I work at, as that was the only place any of us could imagine he (or she) might have traveled from. And while I was pleased to be getting said turtle out of harm's way - at least in the parking lot - I couldn't help but be a little sad for it. I mean, that turtle most likely busted its ass for weeks climbing up the small hill above the creek to get to our parking lot. Perhaps that parking lot was some sort of Promised Land for the turtle...you never know. And here I was like some asshole club bouncer running the turtle right back to where it came from. I'm sure the turtle was cursing me in its little turtle head..."No! You big dumb fuck...why are you doing this to me?!?"

But it was for the best, obviously. And that day, briefly, I was Danny...Turtle Rescuer.

war

2007-05-11T06:38:00.000-06:00

Gleaned from the fabulous backpage section of The Sun magazine (March issue) called Sunbeams...

War is a racket. It always has been. It is possibly the oldest, easily the most profitable, surely the most vicious. - Major General Smedley Butler

I guess every generation is doomed to fight its war...suffer the loss of the same old illusions, and learn the same old lessons on its own. - Philip Caputo

I hate those men who would send into war youth to fight and die for them; the pride and cowardice of those old men, making their wars that boys must die. - Mary Roberts Rinehart

Oh, no, we're not going to have any casualties. - George W. Bush, prior to the invasion of Iraq

Name me an emperor who was ever struck by a cannonball. - King Charles V the Wise

Every war when it comes, or before it comes, is represented not as a war but as an act of self-defense against a homicidal maniac. - George Orwell

Here's what I think the truth is: We are all addicts of fossil fuels in a state of denial. And like so many addicts about to face cold turkey, our leaders are now committing violent crimes to get what little is left of what we're hooked on. - Kurt Vonnegut

I believe in compulsory cannibalism. If people were forced to eat what they killed, there would be no more war. - Abbie Hoffman

(acs note: Okay, so that one's a bit nonsensical - and probably not even true anymore considering the lack of conscience among the folks involved these days - but Abbie's a longtime hero of mine...)

If everyone demanded peace instead of another television set, then there'd be peace. - John Lennon

No matter that patriotism is too often the refuge of scoundrels. Dissent, rebellion, and all-around hell-raising remain the true duty of patriots. - Barbara Ehrenreich

Don't you want somebody to love...?

2007-05-11T05:39:00.000-06:00

I’d never heard of this guy or his candidacy until just now, when I was reading the following article about American greed expanding into space (well, further into space). There was one really interesting comment made in response to the article that drew my attention to Mike Gravel. Whoever that person is, I’d like to thank them for doing so.

Please read this and check out Gravel’s site at the end of this. He’s a pretty fascinating guy with an impressive track record as far as I can tell…

Russia Suspects US Plans to Monopolize Fuel from Moon

MOSCOW - Mankind’s second race for the moon has taken on a distinctly Cold War feel, with the Russian space agency accusing its old rival NASA of rejecting a proposal for joint lunar exploration.

The charge comes amid suspicion in Moscow that the US is seeking to deny Russia access to an isotope in abundance under the moon’s surface that many believe could replace fossil fuels and even end the threat of global warming.

A new era of international co-operation in space supposedly dawned after the US, Russia and other powers declared their intention to send humans to the moon for the first time since 1972.

But while NASA has lobbied for support from Britain and the European Space Agency, Russia says its offers have been rebuffed.

“We are ready to co-operate but for some reason the United States has announced that it will carry out the program itself,” Anatoly Perminov, the head of Russia’s federal space agency, Roscosmos, said on Monday. “Strange as it is, the United States is short of experts to implement the program.”

NASA announced in December that it was planning to build an international base camp on one of the moon’s poles, permanently staffing it by 2024. The Russian space rocket manufacturer Energia revealed an even more ambitious program last August, saying it would build a permanent moon base by 2015.

While the Americans have been either coy or dismissive on the subject, Russia openly says the main purpose of its lunar program is the industrial extraction of helium-3.

While critics dismiss it a 21st-century equivalent of the medieval alchemist’s fruitless quest to turn lead into gold, some scientists say helium-3 could be the answer to the world’s energy woes.

As helium-3 is non-polluting and effective in tiny quantities, many countries are taking it very seriously. Germany, India and China, which will launch a lunar probe to research extraction techniques in September, are all studying ways to mine the isotope.

“Whoever conquers the moon first will be the first to benefit,” said Ouyang Ziyuan, the chief scientist of China’s lunar program.

Energia says it will start “industrial scale delivery” of helium-3, transported by cargo space ships no later than 2020. Gazprom, the state-owned energy giant , is said to be strongly supportive of the project.

The US has appeared much more cautious, not least because scientists are yet to discover the secrets of large scale nuclear fusion. Commercial fusion reactors look unlikely to come on line before 2050.

But many in Moscow’s space program believe Washington’s agenda is driven by a desire to monopolise helium-3 mining. They allege that the US President, George Bush, has moved experts on helium-3 into key positions on NASA’s advisory council.

The plot, says Erik Galimov, of the Russian Academy of Sciences, would “enable the US to establish its control of the energy market 20 years from now and put the rest of the world on its knees as hydrocarbons run out”.

========

Comments:

People say that conservatives are those who have the most to conserve. The richer they are, the more conservative they become and it seems, the more greedy and fearful of losing their hoard and power.

Their religious zeal helps conservatives lose the guilt for the depredations they cause. Superstition, homophobia, racism, sexism, punishment, fearmongering, warmongering, crime and other forms of authoritarian behaviour, they call “traditions”, “patriotism” and “God fearing”. With these handles they manipulate the poor, middle class and simply rich conservative believers of their propaganda, like lambs led to slaughter.

Nature controls the amount of resources any animal can hoard by limiting these to what the animal can personally defend, enabling diversity, competition and natural selection. Money enables the human animal to monopolize and hoard resources without limits, circumventing natural selection. That’s why modern conservatives are sorry examples of human beings.

Republicans are uniformly conservative authoritarian beasts. The more beastly, the more they deny their bestial nature. We are not animals they say, because we are smarter, or have souls, or possess some other divine characteristics that separate us from beasts. But conservatives daily prove to be the followers of Mammon the proverbial biblical beast.

Republicans and Democrats are ruled by conservative’s money. Yet conservatives have become freaks of nature who don’t rule by strength, intelligence and information like their alpha male animal counterparts. They rule by self defeating, world destroying, unfettered greed enabled by unlimited hoarding of money-power. As opposed to their animal cousins, the dumbest and weakest rule for the most corrupt.

There is a way for the people to break free of the rule of Mammon. See… Mike Gravel for President

========

Anyway, I was checking in on Big Mike today and came across this answer to my prayers…

More Like Cicero Than Quixote - The People's Crusade of Mike Gravel
By RALPH NADER

Like a fresh wind coming down from Alaska--the state he represented as a U.S. Senator from 1969--1981, Mike Gravel is determined to start a debate about the fundamentals of democracy in his quest for the Democratic Party's nomination for President.

People who heard his address before the Democratic National Committee a few weeks ago and his brief statements during the first debate between the Democratic aspirants last month may be getting the idea that this is no ordinary dark horse politician.

For over a decade, given the failures of elected politicians, Mike Gravel has been engaged in some extraordinary research and consultations with leading constitutional law experts about the need to enact another check to the faltering checks and balances--namely, the National Initiative for Democracy, a proposed law that empowers the people as lawmakers.

Before you roll your eyes over what you feel is an unworkable utopian scheme, go to http://nationalinitiative.us/ to read the detailed constitutional justification for the sovereign right of the people to directly alter their government and make laws.

Among other legal scholars, Yale Law School Professor, Akhil Reed Amar and legal author, Alan Hirsch, have argued that the Constitution recognizes the inalienable right of the American people to amend the Constitution directly through majority vote. What the Constitution does not do is spell out the procedures for such a sovereign right.

The right of the People to alter their government flows from the Declaration of Independence, the declared views of the founding fathers and the framers of the Constitution, its Preamble ("We the People of the United States.do ordain and establish this Constitution,"), Article VII and other provisions, including the Ninth and Tenth Amendments.

Very briefly, The Democracy Amendment asserts the Power of People to make laws, creates an Electoral Trust to administer the national elections, limits the use of money in National Initiative elections to natural persons (e.g. not corporations), and enacts the National Initiative through a federal ballot, when fifty percent of the voters (equal to half of the votes cast in the most recent presidential election) deliver their votes in its favor. Voting can be through traditional and electronic modes.

The Democracy Statute establishes deliberative legislative procedures vital for lawmaking by the people, administered by the Electoral Trust, in an independent arm of the U.S. government.

Mike Gravel points out that the initiative authority to make laws now exists in 24 states and more than 200 local communities. However, the national initiative, which he envisions would have deliberate legislative procedures and would be generically independent of any curtailment by the "officialdom of government," except a judicial finding of fraud.

With the National Initiative, the people acting as lawmakers, will be able to address healthcare, education, energy, taxes, the environment, transportation, the electoral college, the Iraq war, and other neglected, delayed or distorted priorities. Legal scholar, Alan Hirsch, believes "a more direct democracy could be an important means of promoting civic maturation."

This proposal is not exactly a magnet for fat-cat money. No candidate for President from the two major parties has ever demonstrated such a detailed position regarding the sovereign power of People to amend the Constitution and make laws.

Will soundbite debates and horserace media interviews allow for such a public deliberation over the next year? Only if the People take their sovereignty seriously and take charge of the campaign trail with their pre-election, pre-primary participation in city, town and country throughout the country.

Over 2000 years ago, the ancient Roman lawyer and orator, Marcus Cicero, defined freedom with these enduring words: "Freedom is participation in power." That could be the mantra for Mike Gravel's 2008 Presidential campaign.

Now...if we could just convince Gravel to run as in independent rather than a Democrat. Maybe enough of us can gang up on him to prompt a slight change in logistics. At any rate, I'm on board...go Mike!

money changes everything, part two (Bags-o-Glass for everyone...!)

2007-05-10T18:17:00.000-06:00

And now, more evidence that the Bush Administration continues its hostile takeovers of as many government regulatory institutions as possible in order to increase corporate profit with no regard for American citizens...

Bush Nominee for Product Safety Agency Was Top Lobbyist for Industry Group That Pressed to Weaken Key Safeguards

WASHINGTON - Michael Baroody, President Bush’s nominee to chair the nation’s consumer safety watchdog agency, was the top lobbyist for the country’s most powerful industry trade association when the group supported weakening guidelines for reporting information about dangerous products.

(acs note: It's kinda like nominating this guy {below} to watch over product safety for the country...)

According to a report released today by Public Citizen, the requirements that the National Association of Manufacturers (NAM) and its allies sought to weaken had been responsible for more than 80 percent of the fines issued by the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) over the past decade. NAM’s members and its coalition partners were responsible for paying more than half of those fines. The report’s findings underscore the inappropriateness of Bush’s choice of Baroody, a career lobbyist for the manufacturing industry, to chair the agency that is charged with protecting consumers from unsafe products.

The CPSC is tasked with protecting the public – and especially children – from serious injury or death and monitors more than 15,000 types of consumer products. Reports about product hazards are mandated by the Consumer Product Safety Act, one of the key laws governing the CPSC’s role in protecting consumer safety. With Baroody serving as its executive director for lobbying efforts, NAM supported a move to weaken agency protocols that dictate when companies – including NAM members – must immediately report information about potentially hazardous product defects. The changes NAM successfully pressed for could affect the agency’s ability to issue timely decisions to recall dangerous products.

“As head of the CPSC, Baroody would be in charge of administering the weakened disclosure guidance his industry association sought, presenting a serious and unavoidable conflict of interest,” said Public Citizen President Joan Claybrook. “Under his authority, consumer and public safety would be at risk, while the companies he represented for years would save millions in future fines.”

In 2006, despite a long history of manufacturer defiance and cover-ups of reporting violations, the CPSC proposed watering down the Substantial Product Hazard reporting guidelines. Its proposal added additional criteria to the test for determining if a product is both defective and potentially dangerous, and allowed companies new wiggle room in deciding whether to report unsafe products to the CPSC. The new guidelines will likely benefit manufacturers and reduce public notice of safety risks.

Public Citizen’s analysis shows that weakening the rules had enormous financial benefits for NAM and its manufacturer members at the expense of consumer safety. Alleged violations of reporting guidelines were responsible for about $32.9 million of $39.6 million in civil fines collected by the CPSC since 1997. NAM members and affiliates accounted for more than half of those payments, totaling $18 million. Five of those companies alone paid a combined $10 million for allegedly violating reporting guidelines.

Catherine Downs, the former deputy director for recalls in the CPSC’s Office of Compliance, argued that the changes could “only weaken the protection that is offered to the consumer.” Drawing on her experience with the CPSC, she criticized the proposed revisions as “not only unnecessary but potentially dangerous,” and warned the CPSC not to adopt them. Under Baroody, NAM was vocal in its support of the weakened rules. The CPSC approved the changes in July 2006.

“While Baroody was at its helm, NAM had a record of unrelenting hostility to the safety of consumers, including small children,” said Laura MacCleery, director of Public Citizen’s Congress Watch division. “Baroody should not be confirmed to lead a safety agency that has such a vital role in protecting American families.”

money changes everything

2007-05-10T18:02:00.000-06:00

More evidence of this administration’s integrity…

Condi Snoozed While Chevron Paid Off Saddam

…Near the end of (Condoleeza Rice’s) decade on Chevron's board (she joined it in 1991 while a professor at Stanford University), the corporation cooked up the very responsible-sounding "The Chevron Way to a Strong Board." As chairman of the "Public Policy Committee," she should have been tuned in to the open secret of kickbacks being paid to Saddam starting in June 2000…

While she left the board to head the National Security Council seven months later, there was plenty of time to keep Chevron from buying millions of barrels of crude from Iraq and sending around $20 million to Saddam's private accounts and "pet projects" like aiding Russian whacko bigot, Vladimir Zhirinovsky.

Chevron will pay around $25 million to settle the charges - an amount the company will recoup hundreds of times over if the Iraq oil law goes forward with Production Sharing Agreements in the legislation.

The commentary above is referencing this article right hyah…

Chevron seen settling case on Iraq oil

Chevron, the second-largest American oil company, is preparing to acknowledge that it should have known kickbacks were being paid to Saddam Hussein on oil it bought from Iraq as part of a defunct United Nations program, according to investigators.

The admission is part of a settlement being negotiated with United States prosecutors and includes fines totaling $25 million to $30 million, according to the investigators, who declined to be identified because the settlement was not yet public.

The penalty, which is still being negotiated, would be the largest so far in the United States in connection with investigations of companies involved in the oil-for-food scandal.

The $64 billion program was set up in 1996 by the Security Council to help ease the effects of United Nations sanctions on Iraqi civilians after the first Gulf war. Until the American invasion in 2003, the program allowed Saddam's government to export oil to pay for food, medicine and humanitarian goods.

Using an elaborate system of secret surcharges and extra fees, however, the Iraqi regime received at least $1.8 billion in kickbacks from companies in the program, according to an investigation completed in 2005 by Paul A. Volcker, the former chairman of the Federal Reserve.

A report released in 2004 by an investigator at the Central Intelligence Agency listed five American companies that bought oil through the program: the Coastal Corporation, a subsidiary of El Paso; Chevron; Texaco; BayOil; and Mobil, now part of Exxon Mobil. The companies have denied any wrongdoing and said they were cooperating with the investigations.

As part of the deal under negotiation, Chevron, which now owns Texaco, is not expected to admit to violating the United Nations sanctions. But Chevron is expected to acknowledge that it should have been aware that illegal kickbacks were being paid to Iraq on the oil, the investigators said.

The fine is connected to the payment of about $20 million in surcharges on tens of millions of barrels of Iraqi oil bought by Chevron from 2000 to 2002, investigators said.

These payments were made by small oil traders that sold oil to Chevron. But records found by United Nations, American and Italian officials showed that they were financed by Chevron.

The negotiations, which might take several weeks to conclude, follow an agreement reached in February by El Paso, the largest operator of American natural gas pipelines, to pay the United States government $7.73 million to settle allegations that it was involved in illegal payments under the oil-for-food program.

Thus far, only former United Nations officials, individual traders and relatively small oil companies have come under scrutiny in the United States.

According to the Volcker report, surcharges on Iraqi oil exports were introduced in August 2000 by the Iraqi state oil company, the State Oil Marketing Organization. At the time, Condoleezza Rice, now secretary of state, was a member of Chevron's board and led its public policy committee, which oversaw areas of potential political concerns for the company.

In sworn statements last year to an Italian prosecutor, an Italian businessman, Fabrizio Loioli, said he sold Iraqi oil to many companies, including Chevron, and all were aware of the Iraqi request for payment of a surcharge. "In fact, each final beneficiary involved used to add this amount to the official price to disguise it as a premium to be paid to the intermediary," Loioli said in his statement. "In reality, they were perfectly aware that only a part of that would go to the intermediary, while the remaining part was to be paid to the Iraqis."

It just shocks me to no end that people in the U.S. actually believe the bullshit fed to them by the Bush Administration. This has nothing to do with Republican versus Democrat…it’s just plain old greed and dishonesty for the sake of greed. Democrats are just as capable (the Kennedys, Gores and Clintons didn’t get where they are based on hard work).

Are conservatives just afraid to call out the folks they elected for their lack of ethics and hypocrisy? Or is it just a case of being steadfastly stubborn about admitting you were wrong about – or fooled by – someone you once supported?

I cannot wrap my head around the allegiances Americans have to the two parties.

Jesus...

2007-05-10T17:56:00.000-06:00

Why are religious people so insecure? I mean, was there really a problem before…?

House votes to add God to Texas pledge

The Texas pledge of allegiance would change to include the words "one state under God" under legislation overwhelmingly approved Friday by the House. The bill by Rep. Debbie Riddle, R-Tomball, was sent to the Senate on a 124-12 vote.

Opponents said the inclusion of religion in a state-sanctioned pledge amounted to religious oppression – particularly since it's recited in school every morning.

The pledge would now be: "Honor the Texas flag. I pledge allegiance to thee, Texas, one state under God and indivisible."

Fuck you. Idiots.

behind the wall of sleep

2007-05-04T20:23:00.000-06:00

Happiness, in my dad's case, is a warm remote control...

(Get your own blog, father, and you can post embarrassing pictures of me.)

One of the nice things that has come from all the recent redecorating/reorganizing that I've been doing is that my longtime (platonic) companion, Tim, has finally discovered a piece of furniture that he finds comfortable/comforting enough to actually sleep on. I've tried for years to get him beds and pillows...no dice. Without fail, he always ignores my efforts and will sleep anywhere except what I've brought in for him in the hopes of making him comfy. He's a bit of a geezer, though, so I'm never offended. But I've thoroughly enjoyed watching him lounge and doze in the rocking chair that got moved to a new location in my living room...

Does my heart good to see him so content. It is, dare I say...

fortune cookie for the codependent

2007-05-04T20:03:00.000-06:00

Once every couple weeks, my friend DeDe and I visit our favorite Vietnamese restaurant for lunch. It was at this restaurant that I got what has to be to this day the dumbest, least fortune-like message ever. I'll never forget it because it said, I swear to god, "Let someone cut in front of you in traffic today."

Beg your pardon...? Not only is that not a "fortune" of any kind, it's also more or less a demand. No, "You should consider..." or "Your karma will be rewarded if you..." Just, "Let someone cut in front of you in traffic today." I still can't wrap my head around why that message passed the inspection of the manager of fortune cookie message composition. And I'd be willing to bet I went out of my way that day to not let anyone cut in front of me in traffic just out of spite.

However, I did receive a really good fortune this past week that was not only quite timely, but also nails a problem I've had for some time now. It read as follows...

"The best way to succeed in life is to act on the advice you give to others."

Amen, fortune cookie. Somehow, I need to find a way to make this some sort of mantra for me for...well, as long as is necessary.

Oh, and if anyone plays the lottery…34, 21, 14, 25, 47, 36

great minds

2007-05-04T19:54:00.000-06:00

If you have a computer that's halfway decent, I highly encourage you watch this terrific interview of Jon Stewart by Bill Moyers. If you can't, though, there's a transcript directly below the clip. My personal favorite moment is when Stewart compares the secrecy surrounding Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes versus our government's disturbing secrecy with virtually every issue. Wonderful stuff...

Moyers interviews Stewart

everyone knows it's Wendy...

2007-04-28T18:54:00.000-06:00

My bestest friend…

…in her element.

I love this pic so much because a.) it’s how I see her, and b.) she looks so happy. (And it's reminiscent of scenes from when she and I first met.)

Miss her something fierce…

...and so we march

2007-04-28T18:44:00.000-06:00

I read the following poem in the March 2007 issue of The Sun magazine and it stopped me dead in my tracks. “Basic” appeared originally in The Dumbbell Nebula (Heyday Books, 2000), by Steve Kowit. It appears again here with very kind permission of the author.

“Basic”
by Steve Kowit

The first thing that they do is shave your head
& scream into your face until you drop
the pleasant fiction that had been your life.
More quickly than you would have guessed
you learn obedience: to shut your mouth
& do what you are told; that you survive
by virtue of compliance, shutting down.
When they scream, “Drop for twenty,” then you drop.
If, wobbly from lack of sleep,
you’re told to sit up half the night & strip
your M-1 down, that’s what you do. You strip it down.
The only insubordination’s in your eyes, which can’t
accept the order not to close. Your combat boots
kept so compulsively spit-shined
you see your face in both hard toes – skinned
to the scalp, pathetically distorted,
not unrecognizable but not quite you – a self
that marches dutifully through sleet & has perfected
the low crawl.
One gray morning in the second week
of basic training, lacing up his boots,
that shy, phlegmatic, red-haired boy who bunked
above me whispered,
“Steve,
I don’t believe I’m gonna make it…”
“No way, man! You’re doing fine! Hey, look, c’mon,
we’re late,”
& shrugged him off to race out just in time
to make formation in the mist
of that Kentucky morning.
- He was right. He didn’t. He took a razor blade that night,
& crawling underneath the barracks slashed his throat.
What little of myself I saved in there
I saved by tiny gestures of defiance:
Instead of screaming, Kill, I’d plunge my bayonet
Into that dummy screaming, Quill…Nil…
At rifle drill I’d hum the Internationale
& fire fifty feet above the target. I kept Dexedrines
in my fatigues. Took heart from the seditious drollery
of Sergeant May, that LA homeboy
with the black goatee, all hip panache & grace:
that bop salute and smartass version of left face.
& sometimes from his cadre room at night, the wailing
blues of Ray Charles drifted through the barracks,
& I’d lie there in the dark, awake – remembering
that other life that I had left behind.
& it was Sergeant May & Ray Charles
& Dexedrine that got me through.
Had I been more courageous, less the terrified recruit
who did what he was told, I would have hung back
with that boy & argued with him,
said whatever needed saying,
or at least have heard him out, just listened, or let someone
know, or somehow, god knows, saved him.
But I wasn’t. & I didn’t.
I was just a kid myself.
For all my revolutionary rhetoric, I shut my eyes
& ears when shutting of the eyes & ears was politic.
When they said strip your M-1 down, I stripped it down.
When they said march, I marched.

I know famous people

2007-04-28T17:09:00.000-06:00

The Amazing Fred gets some pretty decent pub…

The Coolest Kid In Town

Attaboy...! Fred and Bill (and Jill) kick ass. It was totally cool to see this post by the wee demon (who looked quite smashing Friday night with her new 'do, I must say).

Figures...he really is a damn good photographer as well. Little bastard. I bought one of his pieces at the show Friday and am looking very forward to finding a good place for it at home. (I bought the one called "stairs" not only because it's a cool image, but because one of the few reocurring dreams I have features stairways - or escalators or other steep inclines - quite prominently. So there's some nifty added symbolism that seems nicely appropriate on a few different levels.)

Also, most of us who know Fred know how photogenic he is and how comfortable he tends to feel on the other side of a camera. Oddly, not only did he inspire the first kinda cool picture I've ever taken with my camera phone (second image at left), he also appears to be a bit uneasy standing in front of the photos he had on display at Space. I'll have to ask him what he was thinking some time...

And on Thursday, my partner-in-blog got some attention herself. Unfortunately, my plans to attend the inaugural Boca Tinta Barbecue And Music Shindig Thingy have gone into the crapper (along with my plans to see Pleasant Grove - already paid for, dammit - tonight) thanks to some really stupid car issues that, long story short, require me to spend the rest of the weekend at my folks' house and miss a chunk of work on Monday. What makes it extra sucky is that whenever Amanda has a show at Dada that Valerie can't attend - such as tomorrow's - she has taken it upon herself, Miss America runner-up style, to fulfill Val's duties as Door Rackage / Greeter / Perv Magnet (see third image for proof). And I'm sure tomorrow would have been a lovely sight in that regard. Double fuck.

killing in the name of...

2007-04-25T16:08:00.000-06:00

More news from the “war on terror” that – aside from the international media – only the great Chris Floyd seems willing to report. If there’s any hope of salvaging a free press in this country, it’s people like him, Bill Moyers, and the greatness of TomDispatch.com…

Bush-Backed Liberation of Somalia: "Most of the dead are poor people"

In the new Terror War front opened by the Bush Administration and its proxy armies – the brutal "regime change" invasion of Somalia, led by the American-trained troops of the Ethiopian dictatorship – conditions for innocent civilians are worsening by the day. The BBC reports that the Ethiopians and their Somali warlord allies have essentially sealed off large quadrants of the capital, Mogadishu, and are shelling the residential areas to root out "insurgents" – forces loyal to the Islamic Courts government overthrown by the invasion, tribal groups on the outs with the ascendant warlords, and ordinary Somalis defending their country from foreign attack.

More than 300,000 people have fled the carnage in Mogadishu, some heading for the Kenyan border – where many have been captured with the help of U.S. Special Forces and intelligence agents and "rendered" to Ethiopia's notorious torture-chamber prisons – while many other refugees have been forced to simply camp out in the open, prey to extreme hunger and exposure, and the spread of disease. Some have become so desperate that they have had to return to the rubble of their homes in Mogadishu, and are now trapped in the ring of fire that the American-backed invaders are drawing around the city.

At least 250 people have been killed in Mogadishu in this week alone, almost all of them civilians, say relief workers and UN officials. And the innocent victims are overwhelmingly the most vulnerable people in Somali society; the poor, the sick, the crippled, the old and the very young.

The U.S. corporate media – and indeed, much of the "progressive" media as well – have largely ignored the conflict in Somalia, beyond a few brief mentions in the traditional "oh, those African savages are killing each other again" mode. But the war in Somalia is an American war. As we have reported often here – drawing on the extensive work of other researchers – the Bush Administration has armed, trained and financed the war machine of the Ethiopian dictatorship, with special attention paid to "counterinsurgency" training in preparation for the "regime change" that Washington wanted in Somalia. What's more, American warplanes assisted the invasion, launching airstrikes on fleeing civilians and natives of the border regions, ostensibly in a flailing, ham-handed attempt to kill a few suspected "al Qaeda" leaders supposedly hidden among the refugees. Many innocent people were killed – but no terrorist operatives. In addition, U.S. Special Forces troops have been operating with the invaders, and U.S. intelligence agents have been interrogating refugees and "rendering" some of them into a nightmarish journey through warlord prisons in Somalia on their way to captivity in Ethiopia. Again, all of this is going on with practically no U.S. news coverage – and absolutely no political debate in America.

The proxy conquest of Somalia is being undertaken to serve the Administration's strategic aim of dominating the oil supplies and distribution lines in the Middle East and Africa. The "justification" for this act of aggression is, as always, "terrorism." Bush and his proxies accuse the Islamic Courts government of "having ties to al Qaeda," a charge with the Courts faction has always denied, and of which there is no proof. But the accusation provides a handy excuse for attacking, arresting, rendering or killing anyone remotely associated with the overthrown government – or anyone who opposes the new Bush-imposed regime. "Al Qaeda" has become a magical incantation by which the Bush Administration can transform anyone into a "terrorist" or an "enemy combatant." As with the Islamic Courts government, no proof is necessary; the accusation itself will suffice.

Again, all of this happening – helped by American money, arms, training, planes, bombs, troops and intelligence – without the slightest debate or controversy among the American Establishment, and with no attempt whatsoever by the media to inform the American people of the situation. A whole new front in the never-ending, Constitution-shredding, death-dealing, atrocity-bearing "War on Terror" has been opened – a third "regime change" operation descending into murder and ruin – but no one pays the slightest mind. And as long as the Bush Administration can avoid another "Black Hawk Down" incident, as long as most of the dead are poor people – poor black people, those eternal non-entities in the public consciousness – then the American amnesia about the slaughter in Somalia will go on and on.

I think the thing that pisses me off the most, at least for the moment, is that there is no accountability in this administration…particularly with regard to Pentagon spending. There is no telling what kind of ghastly shit we’re financing all over the world. The media in the U.S. certainly won’t report on it. And I’m sure this is pure naiveté and/or doe-eyed ideology on my part, but shouldn’t Congress or somebody have some say in how and on what our tax dollars are spent? Our government is out of control to an obscene degree and has to answer to no one – at home or abroad. And the agenda of greed and global corporate domination without conscience or even the slightest bit of humanity – that I am paying for and you are paying for – is beyond offensive.

it's the criminals (or evil), stupid...!

2007-04-25T12:15:00.000-06:00

This is a really interesting article from last week about the Virginia Tech shootings, and similar episodes from the recent past…

A Volatile Young Man, Humiliation and a Gun

"God I can't wait till I can kill you people." – a message on the Web site of the Columbine killer Eric Harris

In the predawn hours of Monday, Aug. 1, 1966, Charles Whitman, a former marine and Eagle Scout in Austin, Tex., stabbed his wife to death in their bed. The night before he had driven to his mother's apartment in another part of town and killed her.

Later that Monday morning, Whitman gathered together food, water, a supply of ammunition, two rifles, a couple of pistols, a carbine and a shotgun and climbed the landmark 30-story tower on the campus of the University of Texas.

Beneath a blazing sun, with temperatures headed toward the mid-90s, Whitman opened fire. His first target was a pregnant teenager. Over the next 80 or so minutes he killed 14 people and wounded more than 30 others before being shot to death by the police.

More than four decades later we still profess to be baffled at the periodic eruption of murderous violence in places we perceive as safe havens. We look on aghast, as if the devil himself had appeared from out of nowhere. This time it was 32 innocents slaughtered on the campus of Virginia Tech. How could it have happened? We behave as if it was all so inexplicable.

(acs note: Some folks are content on some level to ascribe such behavior to simple “evil.” But then those kinds of people excel at simplistic, religious-based sociology. Not to sound too elitist, but this post – and probably this blog – ain’t for those people.)

But a close look at the patterns of murderous violence in the U.S. reveals some remarkable consistencies, wherever the individual atrocities may have occurred. In case after case, decade after decade, the killers have been shown to be young men riddled with shame and humiliation, often bitterly misogynistic and homophobic, who have decided that the way to assert their faltering sense of manhood and get the respect they have been denied is to go out and shoot somebody.

Dr. James Gilligan, who has spent many years studying violence as a prison psychiatrist in Massachusetts, and as a professor at Harvard and now at N.Y.U., believes that some debilitating combination of misogyny and homophobia is a "central component" in much, if not most, of the worst forms of violence in this country.

"What I've concluded from decades of working with murderers and rapists and every kind of violent criminal," he said, "is that an underlying factor that is virtually always present to one degree or another is a feeling that one has to prove one's manhood, and that the way to do that, to gain the respect that has been lost, is to commit a violent act."

Violence is commonly resorted to as the antidote to the disturbing emotions raised by the widespread hostility toward women in our society and the pathological fear of so many men that they aren't quite tough enough, masculine enough - in short, that they might have homosexual tendencies.

In a culture that is relentless in equating violence with masculinity, "it is tremendously tempting," said Dr. Gilligan, "to use violence as a means of trying to shore up one's sense of masculine self-esteem."

The Virginia Tech killer, Cho Seung-Hui, was reported to have stalked female classmates and to have leaned under tables to take inappropriate photos of women. A former roommate told CNN that Mr. Cho once claimed to have seen "promiscuity" when he looked into the eyes of a woman on campus.

Charles Whitman was often portrayed as the sunny all-American boy. But he had been court-martialed in the Marines, was struggling as a college student and apparently had been suffering from depression. He told a psychiatrist that he absolutely hated his father, but he started his murderous spree by killing his wife and his mother.

The confluence of feelings of inadequacy, psychosexual turmoil and the easy availability of guns has resulted in a staggering volume of murders in this country.

There are nearly 200 million firearms in private hands in the U.S., and more than 30,000 people - nearly 10 times the total number of Americans who have died in Iraq - are killed by those guns each year. In 1966 Americans were being killed by guns at the rate of 17,000 a year. An article in The Times examining such "rampages" as the Charles Whitman shootings said:

"Whatever the motivation, it seems clear that the way is made easier by the fact that guns of all sorts are readily available to Americans of all shades of morality and mentality."

We've learned very little in 40 years.

impeach the motherfuckers

2007-04-22T15:19:00.000-06:00

APRIL 28 NATIONWIDE IMPEACHMENT ACTIONS

TEXAS - Arlington

NOTE: The event's actually been moved to Sunday the 29th at 2:00 pm.

We're going to merge the event with a May Day rally we were planning on taking place on the 28th because May Day falls on a Tuesday. The event will be composed of games which will be decided democratically by the group. It may be kickball, soccer, capture the flag... it is really up to the group and resources present. Free Food by Food Not Bombs. There is a possibility of a skit by Code Pink. We will be having tabling by IWW, Peaceful Vocations (counter-recruitment in FW schools!), unions, anarchists, zine distros, etc. It will be at Cravens Park [Cravens Park Drive (near Green Oaks Cravens park intersection)] from 1 or 2 PM until late. They welcome help making signs and banners and bringing food. E-mail alan.seth@gmail.com.

Please visit the website - A28 - for more information on events scheduled around the country, photos like the one above, and some additional information on what they hope can be accomplished. I'm damn sure gonna be there.

attaboy...!

2007-04-22T12:19:00.000-06:00

Thought for the day...

You are younger today than you ever will be again. Make use of it for the sake of tomorrow. - anonymous

And I caught a timely headline just a few minutes ago...

Punk icon Iggy Pop turns 60, dives off stage

That's my boy. The mere fact that Iggy's made it to age sixty is amazing in itself. But he looks so fucking good on top of that. Yeah, his face is a bit craggly, but have you seen his body? He's in incredible shape...for anyone, much less a dude that's sixty years old. And while it's been a few years since I've seen him play, back in the day when he was putting out some really damn decent solo records like Brick by Brick, Instinct, and Blah Blah Blah, he was one of the best performers I've ever seen. Like, easily in the top five. His shows were fucking phenomenal. The Ig's always been a hero of mine just because of what he says, the way he says it, and just his approach to life and art in general. So keep giving it hell, Iggy.

Oh, and on an unrelated note, check out today’s Google logo…very nice.

Ma(n)son..."subdivisions"...wow

2007-04-21T21:03:00.000-06:00

Among the things I discovered while cleaning out my bedroom closet was something a bit startling (and funny). I took out all my old vinyl LPs and was looking through them for nostalgia's sake. And I noticed the following photograph inside the gatefold for Pink Floyd's Meddle...

Now, is it just me or is Nick Mason pretty much just one lazy eye - and one swastika carved into his forehead - away from being Charles Manson's identical twin...?

Oh, and here's another great (depending on your perspective) pic...this one from Rush's 2112...

Yes, the "we're sophisticated swingers...let's do some coke" outfits are entertaining in and of themselves. But may I direct your attention to that most unusual and impressive site - Alex Lifeson's (the blond dude) wicked camel toe.

While it's not quite as rare as spotting Bigfoot or something, the male camel toe is at least as fascinating and certainly more disturbing. Bravo, Alex. The fact that my eyes zeroed in on Lifeson's crotch is probably a subject best left for my therapist to consider, okay? In the meantime, let's all just enjoy the moment, shall we...?

PS - For additional camel toe fun/resources, make sure to check out The Camel Toe Report. Especially the "toe haiku" section. It's some of the funniest shit you'll ever read...

without a trace

2007-04-21T20:50:00.000-06:00

Here’s a nice little fact sheet / reference thingy from my new favorite political watchdogs…

CREW Issues New Fact Sheet: The Facts Behind The White House Email Scandals

Washington - Following up on the WITHOUT A TRACE report, today Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington (CREW) issued this fact sheet to clarify the ongoing White House email scandals.

There are two separate email scandals:

- Top White House officials’ use of RNC email accounts and RNC destruction of those emails
- Five million EOP emails missing from White House (EOP) server from period 3/03 to 10/05

RNC Email Scandal:

- Top White House officials, including Karl Rove, used RNC and other outside email accounts to conduct White House business

- Those officials took no steps to ensure that the emails were preserved, as the Presidential Records Act requires

- Emails show that officials were aware that if they used outside email accounts, their email messages would not be preserved

- Even though DOJ sent White House a preservation request for records related to CIA leak investigation in September 2003, RNC continued to purge all emails every 30 days until August 2004

White House Email Scandal:

- In late 2001 or early 2002, Bush administration discontinued automatic email archiving/preservation system put in place by Clinton administration (ARMS)

- Bush administration failed to put another system in place that would appropriately and effectively save email records in a records management system

- Instead, Bush administration extracts email messages from the EOP server and stores them in files on a file server

- There are no effective internal controls on this system to ensure complete set of messages; messages can be modified or deleted

- In October 2005, White House discovered emails were missing from this system, briefing White House Counsel (Harriet Miers) on the problem as well as Special Counsel Patrick Fitzgerald’s staff

- EOP’s Office of Administration (OA) did independent analysis to determine extent of missing email problem – found hundreds of days of email missing between March 2003 and October 2005, for a rough total estimate of five million missing emails

- White House Counsel was briefed on this and given plan of action to recover missing emails

- White House never implemented plan to recover missing emails (even in face of preservation order from DOJ)

- White House has still not put effective email archiving system in place, even though it knows current system is not effective and has led to at least five million missing emails

Bush administration is still not telling the truth:

- Dana Perino has said problem with EOP server occurred when White House switched from Lotus Notes to Microsoft Outlook – this is untrue; emails are missing for a 2½ year period starting in March 2003 and ending in October 2005

- Dana Perino has said no intentional loss of any document – but by October 2005, White House knew system wasn’t working and knowingly and willfully refused to implement plan to recover five million emails missing from EOP server, instead leaving in place a system that does not work

- Dana Perino has said system set up to comply with Presidential Records Act by automatically preserving EOP emails – but White House is using system that doesn’t effectively preserve email and that doesn’t comply with archiving standards (see 36 C.F.R. Part 1234 – guidance for preserving email under Federal Records Act) and doesn’t work (e.g. five million missing emails)

“Buying the War”

2007-04-21T20:28:00.000-06:00

Record of Iraq War Lies to Air April 25 on PBS

Bill Moyers has put together an amazing 90-minute video documenting the lies that the Bush administration told to sell the Iraq war to the American public, with a special focus on how the media led the charge. Watch PBS from 9:00 to 10:30 PM on Wednesday, April 25. Spending that 90 minutes will actually save you time because you'll never watch television news again - not even on PBS, which comes in for its own share of criticism.

While a great many pundits, not to mention presidents, look remarkably stupid or dishonest in the four-year-old clips included in "Buying the War," it's hard to take any spiteful pleasure in holding them to account, and not just because the killing and dying they facilitated is ongoing, but also because of what this video reveals about the mindset of members of the DC media.

It's great to see an American media outlet tell this story so well, but it leads one to ask: When will Congress tell it? While the Democrats were in the minority, they clamored for hearings and investigations, they pushed Resolutions of Inquiry into the White House Iraq Group and the Downing Street Minutes. Now in the majority, they've gone largely silent. The chief exception is the House Judiciary Committee's effort to question Condoleezza Rice…about the forged Niger documents.

But what comes out of watching this show is a powerful realization that no investigation is needed by Congress, just as no hidden information was needed for the media to get the story right in the first place. The claims that the White House made were not honest mistakes. But neither were they deceptions. They were transparent and laughably absurd falsehoods. And they were high crimes and misdemeanors.

The program opens with video of President Bush saying "Iraq is part of a war on terror. It's a country that trains terrorists. It's a country that can arm terrorists. Saddam Hussein and his weapons are a direct threat to this country."

Was that believable or did the media play along? The next shot is of a press conference at which Bush announces that he has a script telling him which reporters to call on and in what order. Yet the reporters play along, raising their hands after each comment, pretending that they might be called on despite the script.

Video shows Richard Perle claiming that Saddam Hussein worked with al Qaeda and that Iraqis would greet American occupiers as liberators. Here are the Weekly Standard, The Wall Street Journal, William Safire from The New York Times, Charles Krauthammer and Jim Hoagland from The Washington Post, all demanding an overthrow of Iraq's government. George Will is seen saying that Hussein "has anthrax, he loves biological weapons, he has terrorist training camps, including 747s to practice on."

But was that even plausible? Bob Simon of "60 Minutes" tells Moyers he wasn't buying it. He says he saw the idea of a connection between Hussein and al Qaeda as an absurdity: "Saddam, as most tyrants, was a total control freak. He wanted total control of his regime. Total control of the country. And to introduce a wild card like al Qaeda in any sense was just something he would not do. So I just didn't believe it for an instant."

Knight Ridder Bureau Chief John Walcott didn't buy it either. He assigned Warren Strobel and Jonathan Landay to do the reporting and they found the Bush claims to be quite apparently false. For example, when the Iraqi National Congress (INC) fed The New York Times's Judith Miller a story through an Iraqi defector claiming that Hussein had chemical and biological weapons labs under his house, Landay noticed that the source was a Kurd, making it very unlikely he would have learned such secrets. But Landay also noticed that it was absurd to imagine someone putting a biological weapons lab under his house.

But absurd announcements were the order of the day. A video clip shows a Fox anchor saying, "A former top Iraqi nuclear scientist tells Congress Iraq could build three nuclear bombs by 2005." And the most fantastic stories of all were fed to David Rose at Vanity Fair Magazine. We see a clip of him saying, "The last training exercise was to blow up a full-size mock-up of a US destroyer in a lake in central Iraq."

Forged documents from Niger could not have gotten noticed in this stew of lies. Had there been some real documents honestly showing something, that might have stood out and caught more eyes. Walcott describes the way the INC would feed the same information to the vice president and secretary of defense that it fed to a reporter, and the reporter would then get the claims confirmed by calling the White House or the Pentagon. Landay adds: "And let's not forget how close these people were to this administration, which raises the question, was there coordination? I can't tell you that there was, but it sure looked like it."

Simon…tells Moyers that when the White House claimed a 9/11 hijacker had met with a representative of the Iraqi government in Prague, "60 Minutes" was easily able to make a few calls and find out that there was no evidence for the claim. "If we had combed Prague," he says, "and found out that there was absolutely no evidence for a meeting between Mohammad Atta and the Iraqi intelligence figure…if we knew that, you had to figure the administration knew it. And yet they were selling the connection between al Qaeda and Saddam."

Moyers questions a number of people about their awful work, including Dan Rather, Peter Beinart and then Chairman and CEO of CNN Walter Isaacson. And he questions Simon, who soft-pedaled the story and avoided reporting that there was no evidence.

Landay at Knight Ridder did report the facts when it counted, but not enough people paid attention. He tells Moyers that all he had to do was read the UN weapons inspectors' reports online to know that the White House was lying to us. When Cheney said that Hussein was close to acquiring nuclear weapons, Landay knew he was lying: "You need tens of thousands of machines called 'centrifuges' to produce highly enriched uranium for a nuclear weapon. You've got to house those in a fairly big place, and you've got to provide a huge amount of power to this facility."

Simon says he knew the claims about aluminum tubes were false because "60 Minutes" called up some scientists and researchers and asked them. Howard Kurtz of The Washington Post says that skeptical stories did not get placed on the front page because they were not "definitive."

Moyers's wonderful movie is marred by a single line - the next to the last sentence - in which he says, "The number of Iraqis killed, over 35,000 last year alone, is hard to pin down." A far more accurate figure could have been found very easily.

Cannot wait to see this. And it's about goddamn time somebody in the...well, close to the mainstream media finally is calling them all out on it. Yes, we have greedy, elitist thugs - thoroughly corrupt and without the slightest bit of conscience (Rove, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Rice, Wolfowitz and, probably least of all, Bush) - using propoganda Hitler would have envied to create this ongoing, racist, corporate-funded massacre. But if there's any group responsible for that agenda to proceed unchallenged, it's the American media. They have collectively forgotten their calling, if they ever had one. And they deserve as much of the blame as those dickheads in Washington. Folks like Bill Moyers are our only hope of ever regaining and independent, free press. Go, Big Bill...!

sweet...!

2007-04-21T13:56:00.000-06:00

Since it was recently revealed how much Amazon sucks (and Overstock, Barnes & Noble, and Borders aren't much of an improvement), the timing of my finding out about these folks couldn't be better. Check out their blurbage (below) and start buying shit from them...!

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