I Will Greatly Miss Barack Hussein Obama!

I will greatly miss Barack Hussein Obama when he ends his term later this year. I am already missing him greatly, just watching those people running to replace him. Irreplaceable.  No doubt the greatest President in my lifetime. I enthusiastically voted for him twice, and would do so again and again if they hadn't passed the 22nd amendment .

The right man, right time.The only other President in modern times that is even in the same league would be FDR. No one else even comes close.

Recently there have been some great articles about Obama's foreign policy successes - The Obama Doctrine - not only should we be thankful for all that Obama has done in foreign policy - extricated us from two very corrosive, terribly painful & tragic wars, but we should be thankful for all the "stupid shit" he didn't do.

It takes guts and intelligence, patience and tough-mindedness not to succumb to the blather, the bluster, the chatter, the easy sound-bite.

There is also a great article about Obama's economic policy over the last 8 years. Obama inherited a wreck of economy, and slowly, steadily he has guided us out of the disaster. Small, determined steps forward. 

Kevin Drum also takes us thru the "long hard slog" of health care reform. Democratic Presidents since JFK have tried to advance health care for Americans. Obama with a razor-thin majority in his first 2 years passed Obamacare. Incremental progress. Major legislation. As Joe Biden was once quoted as saying: "A big fucking deal!"

And Obama has achieved all this with total opposition from the GOP. They have not lifted a finger, not done their jobs for 8 years. Maybe it is not a coincidence that a bloated Con Man is now on target to win the GOP nomination. The GOP has abdicated their responsibilities as a viable political party. 

We live in a divided country. Brutal, political stalemate. It has been a slog much of the time. But Obama has been strong, steady, far-sighted. Also funny, smart, super-intelligent. Amazing. I truly love the man and what he has achieved for our country. I do wish I could vote for him again, and again. I will settle for Hilary to carry forward. Hope she seeks Obama's counsel often during her term.

What is Aging Like?!

What is aging like? Just in case you wanted to know. You morph. Your mind and body changes. Some changes are pretty subtle, some changes are kind of radical. They say that every 7 years your cells have pretty much been regenerated, and have been replaced. But also every 7 years it's like a copy of a copy. Do this over and over again and you get a blurry, fuzzy, copy of a copy. Aging is sort like that.

The narrative in your head gets longer. But there are lots of parts of the narrative that get buried, or lost. Or maybe it's in there somewhere but you just can't recall those parts any more. If you are a positive type you might make parts of the narrative a bit sunnier than they actually were, and if you are a negative type, you might make parts of the narrative a bit gloomier than they actually were, but for most of that stuff, who really knows but you?

You look in the mirror and don't really know the person looking back. There is something familiar, but also lots of odd details that don't add up. I haven't seen that Jeff Goldblum movie "The Fly" in a long time, maybe I saw it a life-time ago. Don't want to look it up now. But if I remember right, Goldblum's character had to deal with the strange, unreasonable horror of watching his body become it's own thing. Yes, aging is a bit like that too.

We Can Understand that We Don't Understand So Much!

We are just a collection of particles and light. Dust. Space dust. Star dust. Reflecting, emitting light. And also we are thinking, feeling beings. How to reconcile the two conceptions of our existence? Maybe there is no reconciliation. Just acceptance. Drop resistance. Resistance is futile.

So some times just a particle. Some times just a being of light. Other times a more holistic being of thinking and feeling. We embody the full dichotomy. From the small, the tiny, the infitesimal to the discrete, the self-contained connected whole.  Almost a universe.  

We use our minds to jump the shark. Deep into a new evolution, a new revolution. We can understand that we don't understand so much. That's very, very good.

The Musical Legacy of the Purple One!

Prince. Nothing compares to "the Purple One." This week's Sound Opinions is a must-listen experience. Jim Derogotis and Greg Kot focus on Prince's musical legacy. You can listen to the podcast here: Show #544 - Remembering Prince.

Brilliant show. It's like listening to two really close, musically-obsessed friends who take all things Pop and Music, as seriously as you do. Plus, they basically listen to everything in the musical universe. And they invest their time and intelligence deeply into Pop Culture & Rock & Roll. They treat these subjects as if they are life and death. Which of course is exactly right.

I don't always agree with these two strongly-opinionated characters, and they don't always agree with each other either, but on this show, no doubt, everyone is in agreement. Prince! Unlike anyone else. He will be dearly missed. He left us an amazing, over-flowing treasure chest of music. Amazing!

Selling the Revolution!

Selling the con. Yes, I think Kevin Drum nails it.  I like Bernie Sanders too. But I've never really felt "the Bern." Never believed in the Revolution that Bernie was selling. I mean, we could use a revolution, but we are far from a revolutionary state. And Bernie can't conjure it all by himself. He can't even conjure it with a bunch of fired-up followers. Just not enough revolutionaries in the land.

This seemed so obvious from the start. We live in a divided country. We live in the middle of political stalemate. The last 8 years of Obama's presidency has shown that to get anything done is a hard slog. It would be great if the poor and disenfranchised would rise up and shake it all up, but the poor and disenfranchised are too poor and disenfranchised to participate in our politics. And this big old Empire is just not that easy to shake up.

Revolution takes pretty extreme circumstances. And well, we just aren't there. Obama has shown us the way this works - slow, pragmatic, incremental changes - battling with the forces of inaction and backward thinking.

We need more hard-working Democrats. We need more progressive people in the House and Senate. We need a tough-minded progressive spirit. Evolution not Revolution. Not as sexy. But that is the reality of our political environment.

And that woman playing the "woman's card," (see previous post) is the logical choice for November. The Short-Fingered Vulgarian will go down in a historic defeat. If he gets that far. Hillary 2016!

She is a Woman!

The Short-Fingered Vulgarian has accused Hillary of "playing the woman's card," in her campaign for President. Hilarious! I do think that Hillary should probably run as a woman. I mean, it's really her best bet. Why?! I mean, well...of course... she is a woman!

He Died Alone, Slumped in an Elevator on the First Floor...

I didn't realize how much of a Prince fan I really was/am. The New York Times listed the 5 must-have Prince albums, I realized I at one time owned 4 of them - Dirty Mind, Sign of the Times, Purple Rain, and Musicology.

I just listened to Musicology again and thought to myself - this is one of the greatest Soul/Funk/R&B records I've ever heard with a totally kickass band. I found myself reading the liner notes, turns out Prince played every instrument on the record.

Astonishing. Even though Prince has left us with a "towering legacy," at the same time, it's probably safe to say that he is somewhat, "underrated." Because he was unlike any one else, it was always hard to rate him at all.

He was Prince. Just being Prince. A genre all his own.

Why am I obsessed with how and why he died? Not sure. I guess it was a total surprise. And the Prince I thought I "knew," is obviously not the Prince that lived. He was an extraordinarily complex character. That probably made him what he became - a boundary-crosser, a hybrid, a contradiction - deeply sexual, deeply religious, deeply conflicted, deeply obsessive. 

All these swirling stories are strange, weird, disturbing. I suppose they also remind me of one of my basic theories of human beings - we are very odd, weird, strange, contradictory. Capable of extraordinary beauty, kindness, over-flowing with love and creativity, and at the same time, capable of terrible things too.

Seems what ever terrible things in Prince's life were directed primarily at himself. His extraordinaryness also seems to have isolated him. So he was wrapped up in his own genius. With no way out.  He died alone, slumped in an elevator. You thought the man lived in some kind of musical/creative paradise. But of course there was pain, sickness, heart-break, unhappiness, and maybe some madness mixed in too.

I know there are folks who just want to remember the good parts. But the whole story is actually the real story. And the real story is probably, or maybe, important to know. By denying or burying the parts we don't want to know, I think we do a disservice to an understanding of the full human thing. We may never know the truth, the whole truth. There are probably a multiplicity of truths about the man and some of these truths just collide. Living and dying it's a strange, ephemeral thing. Human beings are supremely weird. Prince certainly did his own thing, his own way, all the way to the end.

"Remorse-less Work Ethic!"

Lots of weird rumors swirling around Prince.

"Remorse-less work ethic?" I don't think so. If it's true that Prince "worked 154 hours straight before his death," that is just plain crazy. I can't think of another person who had less reason to push himself to such an extreme extent. Really.

And how good could the work be if you were in this extreme state? There is something to be said for balance, wholeness, being well-rested, doing the good work.

This sounds like self-imposed slavery. Insanity. 

Is it another case where someone has so much money, power, time, autonomy - an individual so gifted, talented, creative - a boundary-crosser with an incredible body of work - with no one around him to say "no." 

No peer. No genuine collaborators. You flash on other world-class, supremely gifted weirdos - Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley...

A man unto himself... and then, what? ... Madness? The madness doesn't diminish the work, but it certainly can diminish the man. Extremely.

Update: And if you are taking massive doses of pain-killers, opioids (!), no, you are not clean and sober... even if you are not taking them "recreationally," but instead for pain management. Drug-taking is drug-taking... when is enough, not enough, or more than enough?! Sometimes it's too late to know...

Until the Next Pizza Party!

You eat very, very clean. You live by the code that food is medicine. So no fast food. No sugar. No salty or sugary snacks.

So, how do you "go off the ranch?" You know, we all need to let loose once in awhile. Around here we toss around the magic words: "Pizza Party!"

For longer than is probably rational, we have been talking about having a Pizza Party when something really good happens, when we have something really exciting to celebrate.

That day still hasn't come. 

So, it was really just a series of odd occurrences, dead ends and wrong turns that we found ourselves in an Italian restaurant that specializes in those little open-fire, thin-crust pizzas.

And we took the plunge. "Pizza Party!" And well, it was good. It was great. It was everything you'd want in a Pizza. And well, what can I say, we were satisfied!

Afterwards we were talking about "what now?" What can we look forward to now? How to carry on? What to shoot for? All we could come up with was... Another "Pizza Party!"

Some time. Some place. In an imaginary future.

You live for what you want to live for... that's the way to do it...

The Bodhisattva of Happy Valley!

We love binge-watching these long-form cable series. They seem to be the premier art-form of the last decade or so. We've seen some amazing work. Great stories, cinematic filming. You end up living with these characters for long stretches of time. Sort of like those long, dense novels of an earlier era. Only multiplied many times over with sound and vision.

Our favorite series include: Deadwood, Mad Men, The Knick, Boardwalk Empire, Rome, The Killing, True Detective (both seasons).

We just finished up the first two seasons of Happy Valley. A wise and funny show.  If I were to sum it up in one convoluted line: "A Boddhisattva resides in a powerhouse of a woman named Sarah Lancashire, who channels her deep existential anger and sadness into amazing torrents of empathy and compassion for all beings."

Or something like that. 

Great opening credits too. I love the song. It's by a kid named Jake Bugg...

Crucified on the Cross of Science vs. Religion?

This is pure speculation. A thought experiment. No relation to any current events...

What if you were a very beloved Pop star? And you were "sexually audacious," and provocative and that was a big part of your Pop Persona? And somewhere, sometime, in the 90's you had sex with the wrong person at the wrong time. Just a chance encounter. And you came up "unlucky?"

You were diagnosed as HIV+. 

But, luckily you had good, up to date Doctors, who prescribed "antiretroviral therapy" and this regimen kept you happy, healthy and alive.

But, unluckily, you converted to become a Jehovah's Witness in the early 2000's. And over the years,  folks in the Jehovah's Witness church, folks close to you, convinced you that with belief and the power of prayer, that you were now "miraculously cured" of HIV.

So you stopped taking your "antiretroviral drugs," because you figured that's what "god wanted you to do." And everything seemed to be fine. 

For awhile. 

And then, one day, your body began to morph, and change, and the HIV symptoms came back. And then it was too late, you couldn't stop the progress of the virus, and then you were defenseless to help yourself. And then... you died. 

You might say those Jehovah Witness people really gave you extraordinarily bad medical advice! And you wonder if they feel like total idiots now? And you'd learned a sad lesson that you probably didn't need to learn - sometimes basic biology trumps strange religiosity. 

So your life and death end up being some kind of sad symbol. You have been crucified on the cross of Science vs. Religion.

A Boy Named Prince

Death. Right? It's the subtext to everything we do, everything we know, everything we dream, everything we think. It's the subtext to every moment. Whether we choose to read the subtext or not. Death is always there - behind, underneath and beside us - always. It's the great leveler. No matter how young or old. How rich or poor. Happy or sad. How ready or not.

A boy named Prince. Prince Rogers Nelson (June 7, 1958 - April 21, 2016). 57 years old. Seems too young to be gone. A shy man. A genre all his own. Combined an audacious sexuality, and a strange religiosity. A consummate musician. A prodigious work ethic. Could do it all. And always, always, did it with a grandly beautiful style.

Prince was always cool. Even when he wasn't cool. He was cool!

BTW - Here's Greg Kot on Prince's "Towering Legacy."

"Jaded Old!"

I was reading this "post-mortem" on Bernie Sanders' campaign for President...

I sometimes think I am a pragmatist more than I am an idealist, but really, I probably consider myself more of a "pragmatic idealist." I have high, and noble, ideals - "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," but I want to take concrete steps, and support those who take concrete steps, to make things happen.

So I have been more Hillary, and less Bernie this go-around on the Democratic side of the political coin.

Does this make me the "jaded old?" Jaded = Tired. Uninterested. Apathetic. Dull. 

I don't think so.

Cynical?  No. At bottom, I don't think everyone is dishonest, or selfish. I think it's best to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but you can't discount people's dishonesty or selfishness either. 

So jaded? Sorry, I refuse to wear that label.

Old. OK. Yes. Probably. Far advanced in years? No doubt.

Caring or Not Pt. 2

We define ourselves by what we don't care about (see previous post), and what we do care about...

There are the grand, over-arching ideas that I care about: Love, Spirit, Social Justice. Or as the French like to say: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.

I also care very deeply about...
Coffee
Daily Meditation
Clear Conciousness
Organic Food
Good Conversation
Creativity
A Good Book
Music of the Spirit
Theater
Poetry
Guitars
Progressivism
Inspiration
Improvisation
Heart
Soul
Keeping Totally Occupied with the next thing

I'm sure there's more, but that will do for this morning...

Caring and Not!

I felt euphoric (U-For-Ick) yesterday morning. Wings on my shoes. Then by mid-afternoon it felt like I was coming down with a cold. That's how it goes. You don't care? I don't really care if you don't care.

And when you have a cold, you sort of have a veil over your body. Sort of disconnected from yourself and the world. That's what a little germ can do to you. It's not totally disagreeable. Sometimes being a little bit distant from the things around you can be sort of pleasurable. A positive from a negative.

This all got me thinking of things I don't care about... things I don't think about, don't spend any emotional capital upon... for instance...

Cable TV News
Baseball
The Olympics - Winter or Summer
The Kardashians
Our Booze Culture
O.J. Simpson Trial show - lived thru it once, not interested!
Clarence Thomas Hearings show - lived thru it once not interested!
Blockbuster Movies - hell no, especially all those Super-Hero CGI-Infested Extravaganzas. Franchise Movie? Run to the hills.
Pop Divas
Celebrity Chefs
Restaurants People stand in line for
Fast-Food Chains
Rich People

I'm sure there's lots more things I don't care about, but nothing else comes to me at the moment, and really, I just don't care to wrack my brain thinking about it...

The Day Caresses!

And then one day, the temperature, the humidity, and the sun conspires together - all the elements are just right, and it's like the day reaches out and caresses you.  Yesterday, Sunday, was that kind of day.

Don't Miss the Silences!

Our band, whitewolfsonicprincess, is decidedly not swimming against the stream. You can easily purchase a digital download, or live-stream, our new album via iTunes, Apple Music and Google Play. But there are some great reasons to order the physical, tangible thing. You can purchase a Limited Edition Compact Disc on Bandcamp, or visit our favorite coffeehouse, Brother's K Coffeehouse in Evanston, Illinois and secure your very own copy.

There are excellent  reasons to purchase a Compact Disc!

Top Five Reasons You Need a Compact Disc of "The Shadow of the Marigold!"

5. At $8.00 per Compact Disc it's a bargain!
4. The packaging is, as many fans have told us, "Gorgeous!"
3. Includes a 12 page booklet with cool photos, song lyrics and production info.
2. Glass Mastered CD sounds great - at home or in the car!
1. Thanks to the legendary Ray Kennedy @ Zen Masters, you experience the "silence between the songs." The flow from track to track - don't miss the silences!

Get the Fricking Pad Thai!

You want Thai food? You don't wait to see what others in the group want. You don't hesitate. You say, "Yes, I'd like some Thai food for lunch - Pad Thai - vegetable Pad Thai. I'm a vegetarian. Have been for most of my life. I love vegetables!"

You don't worry about "peer group pressure." You don't worry if you standout like a sore thumb, or seem like a weirdo, or needy, or different than everyone else. You are happy to be you, and you are you, as much as you can be.

You realize you actually have no peers. And you are only tentatively connected to the group. You just happen to have decided to be in this group for money. But these people don't own you.

I know human beings are "herd" animals. Sometimes it's more comfortable to be in the uncounted masses. But that's a hollow existence. Claim your space. Take a stand. Get the fricking Pad Thai!

Life of Bono!

Don't feel sorry for Bono. I mean, it's hard to feel sorry for Bono. He's a Pop Star who has it all. The fame, the fortune, the amazing catalog of songs he's created with U2. He's smart, funny, committed, engaged. Self-aware. No doubt.

He gets to stand on stages all over the world and absorb the love and attention of millions of enthusiastic fans. He's a great singer, an accomplished song-writer, and he collaborates with some really phenomenal musicians. What a life.

He is also a social and political activist of the first order. He talks the talk, and walks the walk. And he's always on the right side of the issues -  for nuclear disarmament,  against AIDs and landmines, for feeding the poor and hungry, for forgiving Third World Debt. Etc.

I for one love his latest idea - let's have the great comedians of our culture (Chris Rock, Amy Schumer, Sacha Baron Cohen) take on ISIS with humor and ridicule. Let our progressive Pop Culture take on the retrograde, anti-human terrorists. Explode them with laughter!

There are those who will make fun of Bono. They will criticize and pillory and ridicule him. He's a big boy. He can handle it. Hell, he's Bono! Lauded and pilloried in equal measure. That's the life of Bono. 

And how about that Bono hair?! Defies gravity with impunity! Bono!

Politicians Doing Politics!

I think this is funny. A politician talks about the necessity of politics - she actually talks about politics as a positive force.  And it seems sort of "radical!" I mean, our politics, and our politicians are held in such "low esteem" by pretty much everyone, even politicians, that you just don't hear anyone talking about the "good" of political compromise.

Most of us have staked out a position, and we root for our team against the other team. And our solution to all problems would be to stock the government with lots of people who think exactly like us.

So liberals (like me) want more liberals in government. Conservatives want more conservatives. Wackos want more wackos. Etc. But really, that's pretty unrealistic. There will always be lots of people who don't agree on lots of things. That's just the way of democracy.

So yes, we need people who are good at finding compromise solutions. We need wheeler-dealers, horse-traders, ambassadors, good talkers, and good walkers. People willing to listen, to forge new ideas,  willing to find solutions with input from all corners.

Yes, it's messy. And no one gets everything they want. But this process can lead to great things. Think LBJ and the Civil Rights bill as one example.We need less pure idealists and more pragmatic politicians. Funny.

A Day in the Life

Out in the world. Stuck in my head. Loneliness of the long-distance walker. One step at a time. Long, elaborate, unsymmetrical circles. Adds to the feeling that nothing adds up. It's just a life. Lived. Things to do - nothing too important or challenging. Still, I do have some things to do. Each step, each breath, is mine. That's enough. Call it a day in the life.

Without the Baggage!

You hear it. You read it. You know it. But can you live it? How easily to we fall back into old habits. Old patterns. Feelings well up, from deep inside. Didn't know they were there, don't where they came from, almost as if they belong to someone else, but you know, you realize, those feelings are yours, and have always been yours. Kind of like that movie, "You've always been the caretaker..." How to break the pattern? How to start anew? How to leave behind what doesn't work anymore. How to be in the moment. Fully alive. Without the baggage. Free. Or if not free, at least fully you.

Essential Conversations!

Yes, I listened to the David Whyte conversation (see previous post) twice yesterday. And then listened to John O'Donahue's "Ancient Celtic Wisdoms and Modern Longings.

Two brilliant, powerful conversations.

Silence. Mystery. Loneliness. Vulnerability. The landscape. Thresholds. These are our friends. As we get older we get more "real." Our biggest challenge is to be here. Even if being here means facing our demise, our mortality, our own vanishing. We must embrace the mysteries of our existence to be fully alive.

Yes, it was that kind of Sunday...

"How We Inhabit our Vulnerability" - D. Whyte

Woke up to this conversation with the poet David Whyte. Sometimes the right message, comes at the right time. So powerful, overwhelming, life-affirming. Dare I say miraculous?!

"To run from vulnerability is to run from our nature." - David Whyte

What Then?

Is the United States of America an "elaborate fraud?" It does seem that the wealthy among us have "cooked the books." Off-shoring cash to evade taxes? I suppose it's not surprising that folks are greedy and will do anything to maximize their wealth at the expense of their fellow citizens. It happens time and time again. In countries all over the world. Maybe it's just human nature? But then, it is incumbent upon us to try to construct societies and governments, that take greed and abuse of power into account. People will game the system. Any system. Not surprising. So yeah, we can't trust each other, we can't trust ourselves, or at least we all know that we can't be trusted either. Everyone want's a bit more than the "other guy." It's not an admirable trait. Once the people lose trust in fair play, or know that the system has been rigged from top to bottom, well what happens then?

The Shadow of the Marigold Launched!

Our marketing campaign is pretty much smoke and mirrors. We put most of our energy, our money, our hearts, souls and inspiration into the work. We were lucky to have some amazing collaborators on this project.

So happy to say that whitewolfsonicprincess' new album, "The Shadow of the Marigold" is now available as a digital download on iTunes, and can be streamed on Apple Music and Google Play!

 iTunes link here: https://itunes.apple.com/album/id1074463960 

You can also purchase your very own limited edition CD with 12 page booklet on BandCamp: https://whitewolfsonicprincess.bandcamp.com/album/the-shadow-of-the-marigold

So happy to have this one out in the world! Photo by Michael Doubrava

Different Times!

Yeah, and one other thing. Wyman's article in New City (see 2 previous posts), reminded me just how much I used to love the Chicago Reader. As Wyman tells it: "Back then, the Reader was a huge institution. The paper came out on Thursday, stacked like bricks in walls three-feet high in stores and cafes. “Hitsville” was on the front page of Section Three." 

Sign of the times. So yeah the music biz in 1994 was still a powerhouse, and so was the publishing biz. As they say, the internet changed it all. The old business model that worked so well, doesn't quite work so well any more.

But, yes, it's true, back then The Chicago Reader, in it's peak years, was a totally must-read phenomenon. A thing of beauty. Big, fold-out format. 4 hefty sections. An impressive, tangible thing. Chock-full of great writing. 

Today the printed version of The Chicago Reader is a pale copy, of a copy, of a copy, of a shadow. A little, flimsy thing. The on-line version just emphasizes how much the thing is no longer the glorious thing it used to be. I mean there's still some good writing - Ben Joravsky on Chicago politics and Mike Sula on Chicago food, but they seem to be residing on shrinking icebergs.

Probably no one's fault. Different times, different worlds.

Don't Forget - It Was All Personal Too!

Although the writing is quite good, the Chicago Music Kerfuffle (see previous post), isn't as high-minded as it might seem at first glance. I mean, there were some grand, overarching issues, and disagreements about aesthetics and definitions, and ethics, but there was heat and bad blood between most of the players (Wyman, Albini, Liz Phair, Urge Overkill, Billy Corgan). The Chicago scene was  small and incestuous. These people crossed paths, in some cases did business together, hung out, etc. There were jealousies, and upsets, and grudges and they all spilled out across the pages of the Reader.

Anyway, I did some more reading over the last few days, found Philip Montoro's article, taking Albini's side in this old feud. Montoro, the current music Editor at the Reader resides in the very determined underground scene, and specializes in writing about groups you don't know, and probably don't really want to know. Still, he has a very specific and crystalline point of view and very strong opinions, he is impressive, insular, uncompromising.

I also found Bill Wyman's great article in Salon on Kurt Cobain, and the alternative music scene. I'd say it's essential reading if you're interested in that kind of thing. Wyman is a smart, funny, thoughtful writer, and he takes music seriously. Some great insight on Cobain, Nirvana and what it all says about pop culture. Great stuff, indeed.

1993 Chicago Music Kerfuffle!

I wasn't a huge fan of any of the "Pandering Sluts," although I did  buy and enjoy Smashing Pumpkin's first record, "Gish," I do remember avidly reading the music-press "Stooge," and I have some sympathy for him. I mean, I never had a problem with him as a writer, or a person, or a critic. I didn't always agree with him, but  I kind of understood where he was coming from, which is good enough.

There's a great article in the latest New City by former Reader Music Critic - (Hitsville!) -   Bill Wyman writes about the Chicago music scene in 1993. Bill finally addresses one of the great Chicago Music Biz kerfuffles. 

He brings up great, and maybe, significant issues, certainly quite interesting questions like: how do you define "alternative" music, vs. "underground" music? What is "commercial" music? Does the methodology of the creation of the music, the motives of the music-makers count when we try to evaluate music? Who has "artistic integrity," and "street credibility?" Who is pandering, and who is doing good work? Who is making records of value, that should be listened to?

Or does none of that really matter? Do we like a record? Does it rock? Or whatever? Wyman tries to navigate all of this with humor, intelligence and grace. On the other side of the kerfuffle is Steve Albini: a legendary character, writer, Producer, music-maker, who is all about method, and a strict aesthetic code. Sort of a "Stalinist" when it comes to the rules of how to make a record, how to live your life, and how to interact with the music biz.

This all goes back to Wyman's "Notes from the Undergound: 1993 in Review/Hitsville Top Ten."  Albini objected to the inclusion of Urge Overkill, the Smashing Pumpkins and Liz Phair to Wyman's 1993 Top Ten list.  Albini's response was a letter to the editor: "Three Pandering Sluts and their Music-Press Stooge."

It's all sort of entertaining. A long-ago feud, a collision between definitions and aesthetics - what's good and valid, and whats not good and valid. Now all these borders, and lines in the sand, seem pretty irrelevant. But then, maybe, it seemed important. And there are issues to think through. And I'd like to expand the horizon a bit by broadening the question beyond Chicago's scene. Are you a cooler person, a better music fan if you like bands that are found in a book like Michael Azerrad's "Our Band Could Be Your Life," (Black Flag, Minutemen, Big Black, Fugazi) or Chuck Klosterman's "Fargo City Rock?" - (the Pandering Sluts of Hair Metal)!?!

Klosterman has been writing about this subject his whole career. Think of a kid growing up in Fargo North Dakota, listening to, and loving KISS and Motley Crue, and Poison and Cinderella, and then later becoming a hip, New York, music writer, digging Radiohead and Wilco and then trying to defend how he could both love Motley Crue and or Guns N Roses vs. Radiohead and Nirvana, and try to explain why that's totally possible and coherent and maybe even logical. Cultural dissonance!

Anyway, Klosterman has written about Albini too. He has a great little essay about Nirvana's "In Utero" in his "Eating the Dinosaur,"  it's all about Kurt Cobain's patented "Guilt Rock," how he was an alternative kid, who became rich and famous, and felt terrible about it, and tried to make an "uncommercial" record with Steve Albini - Cobain was in the ridiculous position of trying to make a record people wouldn't like and wouldn't buy. Cobain was crucified on the cross of Alternative Nation vs. Commercial Success. He embodied the contradictions. And suffered for it all. He tried to recoil from the success of "Nevermind."  It didn't really work. "In Utero" sold well too, not nearly as well as "Nevermind," but no matter, Cobain was a successful rock and roller, whether he wanted to be or not. And did that invalidate what he was doing?  Was his music any less valid because his record was on a major label, and lots of people bought, listened to it, loved it? Even totally "un-cool" people that Cobain basically hated?!

Anyway, I will give Klosterman the last word, because, he is the funniest writer of the bunch, and in my mind, his funny trumps all:

"The vortex of the controversy stemmed from Cobain's selection of Steve Albini as the In Utero producer - an abrasive, ethical man whose legacy is built on crafting sonically authentic records that normal people hate." 

Amazing Aretha!

I stumbled across David Remnick's profile of Aretha Franklin this morning. Beautifully written. Amazing character. Amazing voice. Amazing...

Let's give Billy Preston the last word - “I don’t care what they say about Aretha,” Billy Preston, who died in 2006, once said. “She can be hiding out in her house in Detroit for years. She can go decades without taking a plane or flying off to Europe. She can cancel half her gigs and infuriate every producer and promoter in the country. She can sing all kinds of jive-ass songs that are beneath her. She can go into her diva act and turn off the world. But on any given night, when that lady sits down at the piano and gets her body and soul all over some righteous song, she’ll scare the shit out of you. And you’ll know—you’ll swear—that she’s still the best fuckin’ singer this fucked-up country has ever produced.” ♦

No and Yes!

Maybe it goes without saying...

What you choose NOT to do, is just as important as what you choose to do... saying "no," saying "yes," totally defines us and accounts for our time too.

Save Your Life!

A dear friend tipped me to this TED talk. It's a head-opener. It's funny we had a pretty intense conversation a week or so ago, about this same subject. Does consciousness exist outside of our bodies? Are we more than we know? Is there more to our existence? 

Do we see thru a glass darkly? How to live? 

Live with love and without fear. Live with laughter, humor and joy. Life is a gift, not a chore. Always be yourself, shine your light! This woman died so she could live... cancer saved her life... check it out. Maybe if we listen, take in her message, we can be saved to live a full, happy, healthy, loving life too? Maybe?!

Not Like Everybody Else!

I am on a major Raymond Douglas Davies kick. First I read "Americana" and now I'm deep into "X-Ray." RDD is a writer of distinction!

I love his take about songwriting in 1968: 

"While everybody else thought that the hip thing to do was to drop acid, do as many drugs as possible and listen to music in a coma, the Kinks were singing songs about lost friends, draught beer, motorbike riders, wicked witches and flying cats." - Raymond Douglas Davies

For Once He Will Be Right!

This thought has been with me for awhile. I have shared it with a few close friends. I figure I should put it out publicly. I haven't seen or heard anyone else say it. Mark my words!

I do not think The Short-Fingered Vulgarian will make it to November. I don't know how or why, don't know the particulars, but I do not think he will be President. Not only won't he be President, he will stand-down before the election. I don't think he really wants the job. What started as a whim or an "ego-fluff" has now gotten a little too serious.

Government: I do not believe he knows what it does, or how it works. And he doesn't care. I think he's going to walk away, stand down. He has to figure out a way to do it so it doesn't look like his failure, he is a winner, and winners don't fail, but he will figure it out.

He doesn't really want the job! It's one he's not qualified for, one that he is ill-suited for - it's gonna start to get really, really uncomfortable and kind of ugly for him as we get closer to November.

I predict he walks away. It will be a grind, a chore. No fun. He doesn't want to work hard. He does not want to "earn" it. He will get bored. And pissed off. He will take his ball home. He will hold a press conference and he will tell America that it just doesn't deserve him. For once, he will be right!

The Practice of Effortlessness!

Meditation. A means of "transforming the mind." It is probably the most important practice I've ever come across.  And I have practiced it "religiously"  for many years. I do wish I would have come across it much earlier, I didn't take it up until my early 20's. Then I dropped it, and then took it up again with a determined passion in my 40's.

There is something wonderful about dropping the "needing, wanting, grasping" for a period of time. To find the silence, an inner calm and peace. It's pretty effortless. The effort of effortlessness.

A simple, humble practice. Transforms. Yes.

Fiona Apple's Affair!

We've been watching the Showtime series, "The Affair." As my Mom says, "It's soapy!" It's not bad, mildly diverting, some of the main characters are quite annoying, but it's well-written, well-acted, and kind of keeps you guessing.

But the truly extraordinary thing about the series is the opening credit sequence. This is an art-form all it's own. And this art-form has been elevated by some beautifully rendered sequences over the years. I think of Mad Men, Boardwalk Empire (Brian Jonestown Massacre), True Blood (Jace Everrett doing a Chris Issak imitation), True Detective (Season #1 The Handsome Family, Season #2 Leonard Cohen).  Excellent use of image and sound.

Add the opening of "The Affair" to the list. Fiona Apple. It's beautiful, haunting. It's kind of the profundity undergirding the "soapy" hurly-burly of the show. The song and imagery has clung to me like a midnight cloak. 

"I have only one thing to do and that's to be the wave that I am and then sink back into the ocean..."

Varieties of Bullshit!

I do have experience, real-world experience, with people like The Short Fingered Vulgarian. Yes, he does represent a "type."

Classic bull-shitter. I came across many of these kinds of people in my business-world experience. Corporate executives. Salesmen. Full of confidence. Big personalities. Strong-willed, goal-oriented. Deal-makers. Rain-makers.

Their lack of knowledge was not a problem. Personality characteristics: vim & vigor, brash, bold, brazen. Full of it. And never wrong. Can not be shamed or embarrassed. No backing down. Always going for the win, or the close.

Lots of hot-air. Huge egos. Their audacity was always impressive. Their lack of conscience, or any sense of humility a powerful tool. Often, essentially, they would believe their own bullshit. Totally. And that was a great asset.

Like they say, you "can't bullshit a bullshitter." The bullshitter basically thinks everything is bullshit. The world, and all the things and people in it, are reduced to just varieties of bullshit. A good bull-shitter, the consummate-pro bullshitter, thrives in the land of bullshit.

Resilience!

Resilience. We all need more of it. To bounce back into shape after something bad happens. You will be bent, pressed, stretched,  folded, stapled, smacked, jacked, racked.  You must try your best to bounce.

What Happens Can't Unhappen!

Unless I'm missing something, what happens, happens, and can't be un-happened. This becomes obvious pretty early on, and grows more significant as your life flies by. The happenings pile up. And in that pile there's lots of things you wish you could make un-happen, but that doesn't seem to be the way that things work in this dimension.

Now it's possible that our human perspective is so limited, partial, and even false that this business of happening and unhappening is just a great misunderstanding. I suppose we need to leave it to the astrophysicists and cosmologists, and philosophers and dime-store comics to sort things out.

So until we learn otherwise, there's "what happens." And that's all we get. What happens. 

Another One in a Long Line of Other Ones!

It takes an astrophysicist to remind you that you are just stardust. In the grand picture, you are distantly related to those bright, burning orbs deep in the distance in the black night. But you are also distantly related to the dust sitting under the kitchen table.

Distantly related to the great and not so great. So above, so below.

Yesterday was raw, cold, a hard rain, and it made you wonder about your fate. Wandering thru the streets, leading little furry animals on their daily constitutionals. How did things come to this? Was it "faith or fate?" Or a little of both?

Does all the credit and blame sit on my shoulders? And just why haven't I added up to the person that I thought I'd add up to? There has been no grand plan that I can discern. Things went well, things went bad, and I tried to improvise an answer, and some days I'm just glad to wake up relatively intact.

Is that enough? For a life? It's mine, whether I want it or not. I do want it, but it's not exactly what I expected. But then again, who am I to complain? I'm part star, part dust. And just another one in a long line of other ones.

Ambivalent About Other People!

"I vant to be alone." - Greta Garbo

"Life is people." - Bill Fay

"Hell is other people." - Jean Paul Sartre

A new study tells us "Smart People Would Prefer You Went Away." It seems that many "smart people" are pursuing some larger goal, and other people are kind of a distraction.

I do think sometimes it's much more fulfilling to be onto something bigger, some goal or task, or dream. Other people come and go.

On the other hand, no man is an island. We do need other folks in our lives. It helps to really have a few really important, close people in your life.

But maybe not too many people. You need space, and time, to do something really, really important. Or all consuming. If you can find something in which to occupy yourself.

The Power of the True Idiot!

Okay. You are worried you are becoming obsessed with The Short-Fingered Vulgarian. This isn't a pleasant thought. You'd prefer not to think about him. Way too much video & ink, way too many pixels, have been wasted on him.

But, he is dangerous. Why is he dangerous? Many of our fellow citizens (around 45% of GOP primary voters), have thrown their support to him. They actually want to see him as President of the USA.

The Short-Fingered Vulgarian is supremely confident in his superiority. He doesn't see how clueless he really is, this is a dangerous thing for sure.

This is mind-boggling. Disturbing. The Short-Fingered Vulgarian is truly an abomination. He should be laughed out of the room. Laughed off the public stage. Laughed into complete oblivion.

But instead he is being embraced by fellow Americans. And you think these people must be idiots. Willful idiots. I don't think he is tapping into anger so much as idiocy. And it's really hard to argue with an idiot. You can't shame an idiot. 

A true idiot believes he is a total genius.  There lies his power...

"My Hands are Normal Hands!" - Hah!

Maybe the attention, the fascination, the hubbub can be explained: The uncanny ability of one human being to be simultaneously horrifying and hilarious. Both disgusting and ridiculous. 

The fascination of watching a human being so confident in their abilities, when it's apparent that their abilities are actually severely limited. It's like an always repeating car crash. Can't take your eyes off it. You know you should. You know it's bad for you to spend any time gaping. But you are compelled, and beyond your better sense, you can't resist.

But I suppose a car crash isn't funny, so maybe more like a Big Shot, dressed in an improbable tux, always slipping on a banana peel, and falling into a puddle of mud. And rolling around in the mud like a baby pig.  Yeah. And the Big Shot doesn't realize he's rolling around in the mud like a baby pig. He thinks he Mr. Big Shot. A winner in everything. Hah! Maybe more like that... and your eyes are riveted to the spectacle. Can't stop watching...

Yesterday The Short-Fingered Vulgarian insisted to the Washington Post Editorial Board that "My hands are normal hands!"

Hah! This makes you laugh out loud. Quite mirth-making... but then, the horror of it all comes streaming in.  I do think the only way to deal with this phenomenon is to find your sense of humor. But this sense of humor should be wielded like an ego-busting weapon. We must puncture this balloon of absurdity.

Horrifying and hilarious...

My Party, My Rules!

Another great article from Vox... "contested convention!"

And what's the verdict?! Just like that old song tells it: "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to..."

The Party of Losers!

Maybe it's not so surprising that a good portion of the GOP has fallen for the obvious Con Man. Vulgar? Yes! Brazenly lying? Yes! Over-promising? Yes! Full of hot-air and bluster? Yes! Spouting poison - violence & blatant stupidity? Yes! These are not flaws, but features. A candidate for folks who have given up caring about their party, their Country, and want to wreck it.  The party of losers, looking up to the Big Daddy Winner! Who will not be fixing anything, but will be gladly breaking everything! "The future is bright with the flames of chaos!"  Yes, and the margin call on this "nonsense debt," and "hate debt" "appears impossible to cover." Hah!

Still Alive and Doing Everything You Want Iggy to Be Doing!

It's not often, once in awhile, there's a news story that makes you happy: A kid is found safe, a lost dog is reunited with it's family, a philanthropist gives away money to a worthy cause, the good guys chalk up an improbable win.

Or Iggy Pop kicks off a new tour and record at SXSW.

This story made me so happy. A good one for the old guys. Iggy is 68 years old. Still singing. Still taking his shirt off. Still jumping into the crowd. So surprising! Not only is Iggy still alive, he's still doing everything you want Iggy to be doing. And it's not just a nostalgia act - a new record, new songs, a new collaboration with Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age.

And you think, yes, Iggy and QOTSA actually makes perfect sense. Here they are playing their first single off the new record. New Iggy Pop. Everything is right with the world!

Time to Renew!

Time to pare back. Time to clean house. Time to cut things to the bone. Time to identify the useless, the dysfunctional, the old, the obsolete. Time to let go the things, and people, that don't pass muster. Down to the essentials. Time to renew. To recharge. To reset.

Less Panic, Less Talk...

You realize so much of our media culture, our social media, cable TV, radio, etc. is geared to hype the panic. Panic sells. Panic is interesting. Panic = ratings. The Short-Fingered Vulgarian plugs right into our culture of panic. 

We really need less panic. More thought. More wet-blankets. Less fanning of the flames. Sober. Clear-headed. Boring. Wonky. Less sure. More hedging of our bets. 

It's a complicated world, a complicated existence. Things are unclear. Murky. Strange. Hard to decide what happened, and what to do about what happened.

We need more silent contemplation and less riffing off the top of our heads. Less Twitter. More silence. Biting our tongue. Thinking before we speak. That would be refreshing and counter to the general drift!

Panic! Panic at the Disco!

Panic. Panic at the Disco. And Panic everywhere else too. 

I had to talk down a friend last night. Yes, it looks like the Short-Fingered Vulgarian will win the GOP nomination, yes, he is a frightening human being, no, he would not be good for America, or the world.

Let me go out on a limb right now and say that NO, the Short-Fingered Vulgarian will not be President. He will not be King. He will not. I promise. Don't know how exactly it will all play out, but I predict that the Short-Fingered Vulgarian will implode before the November election.

He walks away, stands down, implodes, goes up in flames, whatever. So no panic!  

And no to panic everywhere else too. Our social media world seems to drive us all crazy. So many things to panic about, but you know, sometimes it's best to just take a deep breath, and let all the hot air and huffing and puffing come and go.

So many little panics fizzle out... what looks like sizzle ends in fizzle... relax people! Chill!

BTW - the Hacktivist Collective Anonymous has declared "war" on the Short-Fingered Vulgarian. I say, "Go get em tigers!"

Quite Muddy!

In college I started out as an English Major, but then I came up against the Forsythe Saga, and decided, I had enough, I did not want to spend my life paging thru musty old books I didn't relate to, so I changed majors - I jumped into Psychology.

I got my degree, but I always thought Psychology was not really a science, just a weedy, dorky, kind of human art - humans trying to make sense of humans. And it was a activity organized by madmen and dreamers, and people just making shit up - BF Skinner, Sigmund Freud, CJ Jung - and then after all the hubbub, there was finally the onslaught of the Druggies. All that talk therapy was washed away by the heavy use of pharmaceuticals! 

Anyway, this is a long way to this article - "What Psychology's crisis means for the future of science..." it's all "false positives," and "puffs of smoke." So much of psychology seems like counting angels on the head of a pin. 

Psychology - the whole thing is pretty much a mirage - bias, seeing what you want to see when you want to see it. What to believe? What do we know? What can we know? It all gets quite muddy...

Bully Power

I suppose it's not surprising that people will do anything to get elected to higher office. And it's not surprising that folks will stoop really, really low, that they will gladly appeal to the worst instincts of others, if they think that will translate into votes. Usually it's all done with winks, nods, and code words, but it is a long-time political tactic. Not always successful, but a tried and true strategy.

The bleaker the times, the more gloom, and hardship, or uncertainty, or terror in the air, the uglier it can get. That seems to be the mood this time around. There is a real ugliness in the land. And The Short-Fingered Vulgarian is not afraid to jump right into the heart of the ugliness. Maybe this ugliness was triggered by the election of Barack Obama. Many of us hailed this as a great step forward, but it seems that many angry white folks found this a step too far.

So in one puffed up, buffoon-like entity we have all the worst aspects of our species tied up and neatly packaged in a Celebrity Hot-Dog; racism, Xenophobia, Islamophobia, misogony. And there is real power to be conjured in appealing to hate, resentment, fear and revenge. Power. Bully power. 

The Short-Fingered Vulgarian seemed like such a flawed vehicle, I for one thought he would flame out pretty quickly, but I underestimated the depth of hatred in the hearts of many of my fellow Americans. You must always remember the is a deep yearning for the Big Man, the Bully. The white Bully! People cried when Stalin died, when Mussolini and Milosevic breathed their last breaths.

The Conduit of Ugliness!

Yes, I do think "The Short-Fingered Vulgarian" lit the match! Intentionally. He is whipping up the crowds, using their emotion - the hatred, the anger, the frustration. That's the brand!

And the fire is raging. It is amazing to see folks jumping right into the fire. You wonder where this goes. Does it ramp up into a major fire-ball, or fizzle out? I think: no one really knows. Yes, it does remind one of George Wallace.  And that didn't work out so well. The Short-Fingered Vulgarian is the conduit for some real basic ugliness now flaming up in the land.

Dark Circus!

If you read the great Vox article on "authoritarianism," (see previous post), you know that issues of "law and order" are triggers to activate the authoritarians in our midst. I do think "The Short-Fingered Vulgarian" has been using protesters at his rallies, as props - it's all kind of like a Jerry Springer show, a scripted interlude, meant to excite and entertain the crowd.

The Short-Fingered Vulgarian wants to use the violence, or the expectation of violence as a tool. It's kind of a dangerous game he's playing, but I do think, that he thinks, it all makes the TV show that is his campaign, more compelling.

It spilled out of control in Chicago. But as Kevin Drum asks, "who will the public blame?" Don't really know yet. There is a dark, circus-like nature to all of this, there is the level of entertainment, a pandering ridiculousness, and a deep ugliness that lies beneath it all.

Welcome to your America!

Authoritarian vs. Anti-Authoritarian!

This article from Vox about the "Rise of American Authoritarianism" seems so important, so of the moment. An absolute must-read.

I was blown away by the thorough analysis. In-depth. This is an example of the type of web-journalism you yearn for, hope for - it's needed, essential. Illuminating! You learn about the topic, the study, how the study was conducted, what it tells us about our political scene today, how it relates to other Authoritarian movements and the improbable rise of the Short-Finger Vulgarian (see previous post).

I am distinctly NOT an Authoritarian. Put me in the Anti-Authoritarian Camp. It just comes naturally. Ever since I was a wee lad. I remember being on the playground, there was the Bully, and then the kids who followed and egged on the Bully.

I was always with the kid who was being beat. Always on the side of the Underdog. I got some bloody noses too. And I ate my share of dirt. But the Big Man Bastards could not keep me down.

I worry about my fellow Americans. They seem to be rallying around the Big Man! That really is the worst of us coming to the fore! Get it together folks!

The Short-Fingered Vulgarian Rides the Wave!

We will no longer refer to him by his brand name, we will no longer use the "T" word. From now on he will be known only as "The Short-Fingered Vulgarian."

Dangerous? Yes. Vulgar? Yes. Does he have the Political class and the Media machine by the "short and curlies?"  Yes.

I stumbled into watching his press conference after his Michigan primary win. Performance art of the highest order. Funny, absurd, jaw-droppingly entertaining. The man has no shame. Which is a super-power that he wields with impunity.

He riffs off the top of his head. Says anything that pops into his mind. "I can do Presidential!" He compared himself to Lincoln. Think: Julius Caesar, Ghengis Khan, Mussolini and Putin! A confident strongman!

You can't buy that kind of confidence. He's a salesman. All bluster, bravado, bullshit. You wonder if he really knows what government is, what it does. You also wonder if he has a clue about business. 

He's got money and celebrity. And as Matt Taibbi tells us, the Short-Fingered Vulgarian is unstoppable because American elections are just badly-acted TV shows. The media just can't turn the cameras off. So the Short-Finger Vulgarian is riding the wave! Look out!

We Can All Be Poets and Geniuses!

A long-form improvisation. "Yes... and..." that's our lives. We can thank Del Close for making it an art-form too.

As a "creator" of theater and music, I think this is a great notion and one to hold dear...

"Treat your audience like poets and geniuses and that's what they'll become. - Del Close

Tom Joad of the Animal Kingdom

It turns out I am the "Tom Joad" of the animal kingdom.

It you have tooth, claw, paw, whisker, beak, feather, tail, fur - I am there for you. If you are down, if you need a pick me up, if you need a meal, or a treat, a walk, or a romp, if you need to frolic, or just some mad play, or some exuberant rough-housing - I am there.

I am your confidante, your bosom buddy, your consigliere, your keeper, your fellow-traveler.

I will love you. I will care for you. I will laugh at you. I will talk to you, I will keep up a rambling, ever-morphing monologue for your entertainment, I will say everything that pops into my head, I will tell you everything. I will treat you like my confessor and I will confess everything. Absolutely everything. I will keep a stream of conversation going, even if you never answer me except with long, soul-full looks.

I will travel from one part of town to another to be with you. You will be my purpose, my mission, my job. I will only fully live in your animal glow.

You need me. I am there...

We Can Only "Inter-Be!"

Monday morning, still stuck on Thich Nhat Hanh...

"Often, when we say, “I love you” we focus mostly on the idea of the “I” who is doing the loving and less on the quality of the love that’s being offered. This is because we are caught by the idea of self. We think we have a self. But there is no such thing as an individual separate self. A flower is made only of non-flower elements, such as chlorophyll, sunlight, and water. If we were to remove all the non-flower elements from the flower, there would be no flower left. A flower cannot be by herself alone. A flower can only inter-be with all of us… Humans are like this too. We can’t exist by ourselves alone. We can only inter-be. I am made only of non-me elements, such as the Earth, the sun, parents, and ancestors. In a relationship, if you can see the nature of interbeing between you and the other person, you can see that his suffering is your own suffering, and your happiness is his own happiness. With this way of seeing, you speak and act differently. This in itself can relieve so much suffering."

How to Love!

How to love. 

Isn't that our great quest? Our mission. Our purpose.

You expect it should come naturally. It doesn't. "Love is a learned dynamic interaction." It comes to us via "osmosis and imitation."

How to love. How to increase love. Zen Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh gets to the essentials, the elemental level of our lives. Read it. It could change your life!

Look Up!

Sometimes. In order to clear your head. You need to turn from the human comedy to contemplate the heavens. As a human, you can get wrapped up in the human experience, to the exclusion of everything else.

Not recommended.

Look up. Contemplate the Universe. Look at the beauty. Luxuriate in the silence. Take a good look at the stars. You are made of that stuff. Let's check our Brain Pickings for that Most Beautiful Theory...

We must not forget that we live on a spinning ball, that space curves, and that things are not what they seem...

And remember: "The theory describes a colorful and amazing world where universes explode, space collapses into bottomless holes, time sags and slows near a planet, and the unbounded extensions of interstellar space ripple and sway like the surface of the sea."

Trump's Black Magic!

It is fascinating to watch the blood-letting on the right. The GOP isn't so much a political party, as collection of grifters, hacks, con-men, corporate lap-dogs, and blow-hards of epic proportions. 

Something clicked for me yesterday about Trump. His comment about Romney: "He walks like a penguin," really resonated with me. What a funny remark. What a ridiculous thing to say in front of a crowd of people. 

What an indelible image. 

I could see it vividly. Romney walking like a penguin. And in that image, Trump basically destroyed the man! Doesn't matter what Romney thinks, what he's done, who he is... he walks like a penguin! 

That's magic. Black magic. That's using psychic imagery, and projecting it into the world. And changing the world, changing our perception of the world. And you suspect that Romney probably does walk like a penguin! 

Trump is not an idiot, he's not crazy! He does have a method. He uses words very, very effectively. He is the master of the insult: Cruz is a self-righteous liar, Rubio is a sweaty little boy, Jeb is a low-energy lump. 

Of course, Trump is a complete fabrication. He comes across as an idiot, a complete buffoon, but that's just his avatar! He doesn't have a plan or a clue. Policy doesn't matter. He has words. Pointed, deadly words! Trump has trumped us! Pretty fascinating! He has mojo! But Trump your mojo don't work on me!

And just why doesn't the black magic work on me?! I can see it!

"Walks Like A Penguin!" And "We're made out of that stuff, can you believe it?"

I guess it's sort of impressive just how many people Trump can offend and piss off.  And when he tells us that Mitt Romney "walks like a penguin," I mean, that's bad right?! A penguin? Penguins always seem so awkward and uncomfortable on land. Hell, them's fighting words! What will poor Mittens do?!

And then there are the folks Trump inspires and fires up: The Mike Tyson theory of Donald Trump. 

Tyson on Trump: “We’re the same guy,” he continues. “A thrust for power, a drive for power. Whatever field we’re in, we need power in that field. That’s just who we are.” Then, Tyson starts to lose me a bit. “Balls of energy. We’re not even who we think we are. We’re fire. We’re made of this crap—water, motion, dirt, diamonds, emeralds. We’re made out of that stuff, can you believe it?”

There is a weird, diabolical brilliance to the Trump thing. He isn't playing the same game as anyone else. He's like a Dark Wizard, a Warlock, working on another level altogether. When he paints the visual picture, the image of Romney walking like a penguin, shazzam Romney is toast, his dignity vanishes in an instant.  Trump is some kind of dark genius playing a game no one else even understands!

Words of Wisdom from Ray D.

Ray Davies: "Always trust your dreams and stay in touch with the spirit world. We can't make music without it."

Two Famous Cranks Meet in New Orleans!

One of my favorite parts of Ray Davies book "Americana," is when the famously British Crank Rock And Roller meets the famously American Crank Rock Roller. 

Yes, Ray Davies & Alex Chilton actually meet in New Orleans. Ray goes to Alex's place and sits while Alex reads passages from the novelist Thackery. Imagine that!

And then Alex tells the following to Ray: "Playing songs is ageless; the songs never seem to get old. You can sing a song that you wrote twenty or thirty years ago, and it's like the first time you played it. It makes you feel young, but the reality is, you're getting older, thing are changing inside... somehow performing music cheats age, but the fascination only lasts as long as the song."