Zoot Allures on TV!

I got sidetracked yesterday, chasing dreams of Eldorado. I know there's a golden city out there somewhere with a street with my name on it. Or maybe it's a broken boulevard, or could it be the jimmydumps cul de sac?

Anyway, as part of my series on guitar players, I found this old video of Frank Zappa on the Mike Douglas show. This is like finding something from another world, long lost, and far away. Did it really ever exist?

Not exactly like finding the Dead Sea Scrolls, but when Zappa plugs in and blisters the TV stage with some choice licks, it almost makes you want to get down on your knees and send hallelujahs up to the great freakster in the sky!

Like Hope, But Different

Hey, there's gonna be an election in November. And one of the contenders will probably be this crazy old coot. Seriously. Anyway, to get prepared you must watch this video!

Do I have to have an opinion about everything?

Unfortunately, dear reader, the answer is "Yes!" Even opinions about things I know little or nothing. Which covers a lot of territory. For instance, Heath Ledger. What really can I add of substance or gravity? Well, I'm still flabbergasted (it's not an uncommon state) that a young 28 year old man, sensitive and talented, (I never saw "Brokeback Mountain," but I did see "Cassanova" and I thought he was very good), dies in bed, with 6 different prescription drugs in his system. Proof positive that too much of a good thing can be a bad thing. Seems you mix these drugs together and you get a very unfortunate result.

The brand names are so friendly-sounding: Oxycontin, Ambien, Valium, Vicodin, Xanax, Restoril, plus an over the counter "sleeping pill." Yes, well there is sleep and then there's the "Big Sleep." The actual ingredients sound a little more ominous: oxycodene, hydrocodene, diazepam, alpraszolam, temazepam, doxylamine. Now all of these were prescribed by a doctor or doctors, and well, is there a witch doctor in there somewhere? Maybe this talented, sensitive dude was a little "over-prescribed?"

I do believe our pharmaceutical industry is a multi-billion dollar snake-oil biz. And the doctors who prescribe this shit are basically "drug-pushers," pushing shit that has short and long term consequences that no one really knows. Most of this crap is most assuredly worthless. If someone has anxiety or can't sleep, maybe putting a drug into them isn't the best medicine?

I still believe the best drugs are illegal ones. Some are less bad (I'll take pot and mushrooms over cigarettes or alcohol any day!), and the bad ones are known to be bad, and people take them knowing they are bad. At least someone smoking crack or shooting heroin isn't deluding themselves into thinking that taking the drug is good for them and is gonna cure them!

So yes, we are a drug culture and even pop culture itself sometimes seems like a drug. Some of our best music is also a history of drug intake (rock & roll and amphetamines, booze and blues, downers and heavy metal, ecstasy and rave, crack and hip hop, coke and disco, LSD and psychedelic rock, heroin and well the all star heroin roster is endless think: Charlie Parker, Eric Clapton, John Lennon, Kurt Cobain, Keith Richards, Jim Morrison, Miles Davis, etc.)

Drugs are us. It's a human thing, but this medicalization of drug use is a total scam! I think I'll brew up another pot of coffee. I mean there's nothing more forlorn than a caffeine freak with an empty cup! Another cup and I'm sure I can come up with another topic I can bloviate about.

The Jury Pool

It's kind of like one of those George Romero movies, the zombies line up quietly, go to their seats, sit and wait. Snooze, read, watch TV. It's just a dead zone, even if there's some live wires in the crowd, they all turn down the after-burners. It's one of those situations where you become part of a faceless crowd. No joy, no beauty, no love. That's the beauty of the thing. A docile crowd. Just point us to our seats, tell us when we can go to lunch, when we need to be back, listen for our number, wait until we get our check, give us permission to go home. I think our sheep-like instincts come out. There's comfort in the herd.

This is your constitutional right! A jury of your peers! What a sweet lot!

My number was never called, so I sat and read a book. I read "Crosstown Traffic" a really great little book about Jimi Hendrix and the world he came from, and a history lesson about the blues, gospel, r&b, soul, jazz and rock & roll. The pages are filled with people who were total live wires, with the after-burners turned all the way up, it's a story of joy, beauty, love and sweat, pain, hardship, betrayals, early death, lost opportunities. Did you know that Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix were talking about working together?! Now in some counter-factual universe those two great musical beings are jamming and making some incredible challenging sounds. You sit quietly, you can almost hear the great, beautiful music they created together.

So, I almost finished the book in one sitting. I collected my check for $17.20. I guess it's not bad pay for playing a zombie for a day!

Not all games are fun!

My number finally came up. There are some things from which you just cannot wriggle free: death, taxes, jury duty. I received my second summons for jury duty, and I cannot avoid my fate. The first summons came and went, I just made a mental note of it and then promptly forgot. If I'm asked why I missed the first round, do I tell the truth?

Question: "Sir, why did you not come when you were first summoned?"
Answer: "Judge, I just did not give a god-damned!"

No, honesty is probably not advisable. The second summons, in big, black, bold type tells me if I blow this one off I'm liable to be punished! The last remaining, barely flickering embers of my Catholic upbringing tells me that I deserve to be punished. One wonders if living through a Chicago winter is punishment enough. Punishment or not, jury duty is my civic duty!

So, I'm up at the crack of dawn, (who am I kidding, dawn ain't on the schedule for hours), although, since the Lovely Carla has a photo shoot today, we're both up, me making the coffee, she getting ready to be high-powered Fashion Maven.

So, I will go to the bowels of the R.J. Daley Center, and queue up (one thinks of Kafka!) with all the other unlucky ones, but for me it will be with a heavy heart. I mean, I do not buy into the whole judgement thing. I cannot be an impartial judge of my fellow man. I mean, "dumps" tells me that everyone is GUILTY! And "sunny" tells me everyone is INNOCENT. That leaves me supremely confused, strongly ambivalent, and basically recalcitrant.

War criminals occupy the highest office in the land, the Titans of Capital are crooks and flim-flam men, the hypocritical, totally misguided war on drugs is imprisoning a generation of poor suckers trying to hustle a buck, Scooter Libby scooted, innocent men are sitting on death row (those on death row are really there because they had the absolute shittiest lawyers in the land!), justice is a game, and really now, we know it's a game that's rigged and corrupt and as Woody Guthrie says "some rob you with a six-gun and some with a fountain pen."

Or as Dylan asks us in "Hurricane:" How can the life of such a man/Be in the palm of some fool's hand?/To see him obviously framed/Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land/Where justice is a game.

Right!

The Joke

I suppose I don't have to remind the transplanted Arizonians I know, or the transplanted LA Angels out there somewhere in the blogosphere that living in Chicago in the winter is sort of like living in a freezer, or meat locker. The sun is just a dim bulb that rarely makes a visit. We've had some good snowstorms lately, ice storms, freezing rain. OK, ok, I know the weather is boring. I hate weather stories myself. I usually immediately switch the channel when some dude with a map of isobars pops up, but sometimes the weather wants to be heard!

Yesterday was just ridiculous. We trudged through wind, ice, snow, slush. We were dressed like Eskimos. We were dressed ridiculously. Big, funny-looking hats, oversize mittens, big clunky boots. I mean, we looked stupid. Like big cartoon versions of characters with no fashion sense. Makes you want to laugh. I think living here ups the levity factor. Except, of course, if you get so damn depressed you just up and off yourself. But, even that seems just so stupid and ridiculous. No way we can take anything that seriously. It's all just so dark, and cold, and messy. Makes you want to laugh until the tears start dribbling down your cheeks! But of course, they'd instead just freeze in place!

Be

"Be the change that you want to see in the world." - Mahatma Ghandi

I'm Pulling the Lever (do they still have levers?) for Barack Obama!

It's Super Tuesday, primaries all over the country. We get to vote today in Illinois. I'm voting for Barack Obama. I'm not voting against Hillary Clinton. I think each of the Democratic candidates are excellent candidates and I will of course vote for either of them in November. My mom voted absentee for Hillary. I'm not sure, but I think the Lovely Carla is voting for her too. According to Paul Krugman Hillary's Health Care proposal is better than Obama's.

The key for me is THE IRAQ WAR. This is from Wikipedia:

Obama was an early critic of Bush administration policies on Iraq. On October 2, 2002, the day Bush and Congress agreed on a joint resolution authorizing the Iraq War, Obama addressed the first high-profile Chicago anti-Iraq War rally in Federal Plaza, saying: "I know that an invasion of Iraq without a clear rationale and without strong international support will only fan the flames of the Middle East, and encourage the worst, rather than best, impulses of the Arab world, and strengthen the recruitment arm of Al Qaeda. I am not opposed to all wars. I'm opposed to dumb wars."

On March 17, 2003, the day Bush issued his 48-hour ultimatum to Saddam Hussein to leave Iraq before the U.S. invasion of Iraq, Obama addressed the largest Chicago anti-Iraq War rally to date in Daley Plaza and told the crowd "It's not too late" to stop the war, though many demonstrators conceded that war appeared inevitable. Obama sought to make his early public opposition to the Iraq War before it started a major issue, to distinguish himself from his Democratic primary rivals in his 2004 U.S. Senate campaign who supported the resolution authorizing the Iraq War, and in his 2008 U.S. Presidential campaign to distinguish himself from four Democratic primary rivals who voted for the resolution authorizing the Iraq War (Sen. Hillary Clinton, Sen. Joe Biden, Sen. Chris Dodd, and former Sen. John Edwards).

By the way, in 2002, these Senators voted AGAINST AUTHORIZATION FOR USE OF MILITARY FORCE AGAINST IRAQ: 23 Senators voted NO: Alaska (D-HI), Bingaman (D-NM), Boxer (D-CA), Byrd (D-WV), Chafee (R-RI), Conrad (D-ND), Corzine (D-NJ), Dayton (D-MN), Durbin (D-IL), Feingold (D-WI), Graham (D-FL), Inouye (D-HI), Jeffords (I-VT), Kennedy (D-MA), Leahy (D-VT), Levin (D-MI), Mikulski (D-MD), Murray (D-WA), Reed (D-RI), Sarbanes (D-MD), Stabenow (D-MI), Wellstone (D-MN), Wyden (D-OR).

I know we are not voting for a Psychic, we are voting for a President, but I think it's important to reward Barack Obama for being right on Iraq. The day Barack Obama is sworn in as President will be a complete unambiguous rebuke to the war and it's supporters. Those Senators in 2002 that gave Bush the power to use force against Iraq bear some of the responsibility for the horrors that were unleashed and are still unwinding even today.

Always Take the Points!

Yesterday was the day of the UNDERDOG! I'm a betting man, but I confine my betting to the ponies. Somehow I know in my dark heart, that if I started betting sports, I'd end up "in a van, down by the river," probably doing crack, trying my best to come up with a scheme to out-smart the point spread conjured in the bowels of the Vegas brain trust.

So I can't claim any great winnings today, but yes, I was rooting for the underdog, and I must say, I am so pleased that the NY Giants brought down the mighty, undefeated New England Patriots (my brother reminded me that Tom Brady, the New England QB is a Bush fan - so fuck him!). It was truly an upset of epic proportions. And to me anytime a lowly, under-regarded opponent, does the improbable, it warms my heart. It affirms that sometimes, against all odds, the little guy can pull it off. As Jimmy Cliff once said, "the harder they come, the harder they fall...one and all."

I also thought it was so cool to see Tom Petty and Mike Campbell up onstage, in front of billions and billions of eyes, doing their classic rock and roll thing. They are two grizzled old dudes, (I loved the beards!), they looked fine in their shiny suits, loved their tight little set of r&r gems. The Heartbreakers are kind of a rock and roll underdog outfit, they've had their share of hits, but hey, they look like improbable rock and roll heroes. Put them in some raggedy t-shirts and hoodies and they'd fit in with the crowd at Maywood on a cold Friday night, betting the buggies, scouring the floor, looking for discarded winning tickets or cigarette butts.

As Spoon (this gives me a good excuse to post this great video) tells it, "you've got no fear of the underdog, that's why you will not survive." Sweet!

Schlepping to Satisfaction Quotient

So, as Dave Thomas of Pere Ubu once remarked, "rock and roll is about moving big black boxes from one part of town to another." There's a lot of schlepping playing music. You've got amps, P.A. systems, cords, mics, and if you go with the full band there's all those assorted drums and cymbals, and well, I guess it's one way to make sure your biceps don't atrophy.

I've come up with a new measure for any possible gig. It's the "schlepping to satisfaction quotient." It came out of hard experience over the last two years. Any show requires schlepping, it's inevitable like acid rain. The same is true in theater but if you're putting on a theatrical production most of the schlepping is done beforehand. Once your production opens the heavy lifting is basically over, and well, you have your "run" and then you just have the show itself to grapple with.

One thing I noticed is that the music gigs where the schlepping factor was low, the satisfaction factor has usually been high. This weekend was the perfect illustration. We played the Flatiron on Friday and it was basically my beat up old guitar, Carla's tambourine and magic egg, one vocal mic, a cord and well, since my brother provided that amps, we plugged in, and the rest was our shining personalities and boundless (not really) energy. We took public transportation, (the train, the bus - hey, there's Pat McD with his little Epiphone amp, sitting in the back of the bus pretending to be one of George Romero's Zombies!) and all went without a hitch, without straining a muscle.

Same thing on Saturday. There was an open mic at our local coffeehouse and we walked a block, plugged in and burned the house down with a little three song mini-set. Low schlepp/Maximum Satisfaction! Plus I got a great hot chocolate in the bargain. Now that's what I call life on the road!

KSM the Mayor of the Flatiron!

My brother KSM is the unofficial Mayor of the third floor (my brother has an artist studio there) of the Flatiron building in Wicker Park. The Flatiron is where an odd assortment of artists live, work and hang out, carrying on a hard-edged bohemian existence in this little island in the heart of a now very "gentrified" neighborhood. Maybe that John Cusak movie had something to do with the crazy, explosive growth and the strange wanna be coolness factor?

Anyway, the last two years there's been a whole nother thing going on, it kind of sprouted out of the "rock opera" I was working on for my theater company. The rock opera spawned a bunch of songs and the Lovely Carla, Pat MCD of the Telepaths and I would go to the Flatiron at my brother's invitation and play in the third floor hallway, just kind of working out our sound. We would do this every once in awhile on the first Friday of the month. Over time we started to build a little fan base, mainly artists and other hangers on, looking for illicit substances, the free booze and pizza that floated around. It's a very cool scene and we've had some of our best gigs in the hallway, the building is so resonant it's almost like you you're not playing an instrument, you're playing the building.

Well, at one of the sessions I encouraged my brother to join in on harmonica. He hadn't played for many years, but the first time playing together really sparked something inside him, and now he's playing and singing, and well, he ended up starting his own band with some players that were drawn to the scene. They're called the Banana Street Band, and they have a really cool sound, a melding of my brother's blues sensibility (his favorite musician is Leadbelly) along with Yako's exquisite Polish Gypsy guitar playing, topped off by guy named Jeff who provides a steady, mecurial beat on a pair of big bongo type drums. Anyway it a really unique sound and they are wild and combustible and you can hear them on Thursday nights jamming and rehearsing.

My brother has a little digital recorder and over the last year he recorded a number of performers who stumbled through the hallways and laid down some tracks. Last night was the CD release party, (the cover image is one of my brother's paintings) and it was a real joyous night. WWSP played first with Pat MCD as our special guest, and we were in fine form. Then I just sat back and watched the carnival. It was marvelous! The disc is great too. Only a limited run. I'm sure it will be a collector's item. And my brother, well, he's the Mayor and last night everyone in his little domain was happy with the world and the world can sometimes be a place where you play and sing and watch others play and sing and there ain't no bullshit, no competition, just a mosaic or rainbow of vibration and it's a beautiful thing.

A Lonely Hoe to Row!

The Lovely Carla laid into me last night, "you are not a team player." I suppose she's right. I don't really want to be a member of any team that would have me as a member. And the teams that wouldn't have me as a member, well, "fuck em!"

The Flaming Eyeball

It was bitterly cold last night. Four of us trekked through the dark and dirty streets of the city to get to a small rehearsal space. I was low, maybe not lower than a snake's dick, but somewhere in the vicinity. We did a little warm up, ran lines and then worked through the first scene. It's a new Black Forest production called "the Flaming Eyeball." I'm thinking it's some of the best writing I've done, it came out of nowhere, I wrote it just for "the fuck of it," when I was working on another piece, the dreaded "rock opera" that ultimately I pulled the plug on. Sometimes it's best not to talk about a piece until it's done. The talking somehow kills it, drives a stake into the heart.

Anyway, the first line came to me awhile back, "there's a golden ball of energy hurtling through space," and then the rest (three acts) came out in a wild blast of energy. Not sure what I'm trying to say, but this one is done, and ready to find life on stage. The rehearsals, watching the actors interpret the text and trying to work out the little universe I've given bones to, is a really cool process. We go up in March.

Anyway, afterwards, I was no longer that lowly pathetic dude slinking through the city scape. I was fired up, engaged in the process of creating a mad little thing that never existed before. The three actors did their thing (three very talented, soulful women) and watching it all unfold was totally captivating. Can't wait to see what we make together.

Is there life on Mars?

My friend Kris commented on my post yesterday, "you just hate being lied to." That's right, so simple, so clear. Sometimes you don't even see the baseball bat whapping you upside your head.

And the lies keep piling up every day, from every corner. Shit, I mean, we even pay people to lie to us! It all leaves me just an ornery mongrel. Grrrrrrrr!

Last night I watched the History Channel. Is there life on Mars? Didn't David Bowie tackle that subject? Anyway, there was something refreshing about seeing that big red planet, so empty, so open, just spinning around, no bullshit, no lies. Just a big old planet. Not trying to con anyone, or sell anything, or make em see a world that doesn't exist. Refreshing!

A Torture Most Objectionable

The only reason one might have wanted to listen to Bush's speech last night would be to get an idea of what waterboarding is like. I mean, just the sound of the man's voice can trigger the gag reflex. Longer exposure would seize one with a primal fear of drowning in the muck of hell. One would do or say anything to make the torture stop. If I owned a shotgun, I might've done an Elvis and just blasted my flat plasma screen to smithereens. Would the plasma bleed onto the oriental carpet? This morning the sound of the man's voice is dancing on the radio waves. This is the hellish voice of BABEL! I devolve into paroxysms of tourettes-like convulsions. PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP!

SRV Channels Hendrix

My obsession with YouTube and guitar players continues. Here's another unbelievable video. Stevie Ray Vaughan channeling Jimi Hendrix (I love that strange Mexican Bandidto outfit SRV is wearing - somehow only a Texas eccentric like Vaughan could pull it off). I don't know, is it possible SRV surpasses the master? There's really no surpassing, each shines brightly in their own way. Thank God, or maybe thank the Great Technologist In the Ether for preserving this on video. Since MTV is all about reality tv losers, YouTube is the place to go for that music video fix.

If the man had any integrity, he'd say, "Sorry, I fucked up! Sorry for the fear-mongering, death, corruption, incompetence, lies, etc."

George Bush will be giving his State of the Union speech Monday. His last such speech. He will actually stand up in front of the Senate and House and tell them how great things are going.

And they won't stone him, or shout him down, or rush the podium and take him and bundle him off to a psychiatric ward or ship him off to the Hague for a speedy start to his War Crimes Tribunal - Crimes Against Humanity!

HA, HA, HA, HA!

The joke's on us...

UPDATE: I suppose an argument could be made that if you have two Oil Men running the most powerful empire in the world, and their one and only concern is oil - the extraction, the distribution, the selling, the profiting from, etc. - all else is irrelevant: the wars, the blood, the torture, the lies, the corruption, the debt, the indifference, the arrogance, the debasement of the people. Through that prism, maybe BushCo. and their fucking cronies can be judged as doing only what they should have been expected to do.

Drive By Truckers - Unsung Heroes

I hear tell the Drive By Truckers have a new disc on the way. I love this little band from Alabama. I saw them awhile back at the Vic in Chicago. One of the best rock and roll shows I've ever seen. Three great singer/songwriters and three great guitar players. A superb band. I've loved them ever since "Southern Rock Opera" a true American classic - George Wallace, Bear Bryant and Ronnie Van Zandt from Lynard Skynard all figure in the saga. Think southern gothic, steeped in whiskey and busted dreams. And then there's the saving grace of rock and roll, filtered through cranked up amps, served up with no frills and all heart.

Here's a nice little video featuring one of their songs.

"I got green and I got blues..."

This One's for Ken!

Just in case he's checking in...

Who knew this was out there, preserved on video? Amazing! Did someone do a direct download from their Akashic records?

Take one supremely confident studio wizard, add two improbable mutton chops, a vintage Les Paul, stir in a few Psilocybin mushroom excursions, back up with a tight rhythm section, add in his little brother on keys and well, you get SKYDOG/Fillmore East 1970!

About Saying Yes!

John Currin is an extraordinary painter working in a traditional form - oil painting on canvas, in the mode of Velasquez and Courbet. There's a great article about him by Calvin Tomkins in the latest New Yorker, (no link yet).

I came across this quote and well, it just rang a bell with me.

"I came to the conclusion that there is no misery in art. All art is about saying yes, and all art is about it's own making." - John Currin

Yes, even when you are writing about misery, there is no misery in the making. It's all about the YES!

End Times?

The financial world is shaking. According to this guy, it's been a long time coming. It does seem like our financial sector has been totally disconnected from any kind of "reality" for a long time. Dreams of apocalypse have been with us probably since that first naughty monkey picked up a bone and clobbered his cousin and then wondered "what next." Every time you open your eyes a world appears, every time you close your eyes it disappears...

Coincidentally, I've been reading Pinchbeck's 2012, which is a long rambling book, sort of ridiculous and thought-provoking, wrapping up all kinds of apocalyptic speculations. The Mayan calendar ends in the year 2012 and that means either that the world as we know it bellies up, or enters a new positive, transformative epoch, or well, maybe nothing really happens at all. Crop circles, aliens, psychedelic shamanism and other bizzare speculations and weird phenomena figure in the book too. It's all kind of weird and makes me feel sort of "sunny," because it reminds me that Philip Dick's strange, paranoid speculations actually serve as a great template for the narrative we seem to be stuck in.

Multi-layered, contradictory, non-linear! That's the kind of world one can really sink their teeth into!

The Universe is a Head Case

"A new world is only a new mind." - William Carlos Williams

UPDATE: Speaking of a new world, in honor of MLK's birthday...

In his Christmas Sermon, December 24, 1967, Martin Luther King made this point: 'And the leaders of the world today talk eloquently about peace. Every time we drop our bombs in North Vietnam, President Johnson talks eloquently about peace.

What is the problem?

They are talking about peace as a distant goal, as an end we seek, but one day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal we seek, but that it is a means by which we arrive at that goal.

We must pursue peaceful ends through peaceful means.

All of this is saying that, in the final analysis, means and ends must cohere because the end is preexistent in the means, and ultimately destructive means cannot bring about constructive ends.'

Kick Out the Jams

It's minus 2 degrees this morning in the heartland. It's the kind of morning where you wonder just exactly why does one choose to live in a place where sub-zero temperatures are a reality. Maybe there's something about being in touch with the shadow side of things, in this case, the shadow side of weather?

There are the temperate zones where this kind of cold madness is not known. Maybe being in touch with the madness is some kind of test, to survive it, is some kind of accomplishment. Then again, maybe not. So anyway, here's the MC5, not sure why I thought of these guys, they're from Ann Arbor, Michigan, they were managed by John Sinclair one of the founders of the "White Panthers." Maybe their brand of rock and roll anarchy just warms my heart, and any kind of warmth is appreciated. So, click on the video and "kick out the jams brothers and sisters!"

From the Author of "Death of a Fucking Salesman"

According to IMDB that was how the actors on set referred to "Glengarry Glen Ross" during the shoot. Hands down one of the greatest American flicks ever committed to celluloid; a little fugue on sales, despair, capitalism, wrecked dreams, false hopes, the whole kit and kaboodle. IMDB: "During filming, members of the cast who weren't required to be on the set certain days would show up anyway to watch the other actors' performances."

IMDB also tells us that during the film, the word "fuck" and its derivatives are uttered 138 times. The word "shit" and its derivatives are uttered 50 times. (I'm so glad somebody tallied it all!).

David Mamet is one of the great "only in America" voices. Here he is weighing in on our badly listing ship of state:

"The good news is it’s a spectacular country. We’ve been around for 230 years in spite of human nature, because that’s what the Constitution is all about. It’s saying, of course everyone’s gonna try and take control. Of course they’re gonna subvert every law that’s supposed to keep them in line. Of course the president is gonna want to be imperial, of course Congress is gonna want to become obstructionist, of course the judges are gonna be activist. Duh. They figured this out in 1787 and drew up a few sheets of paper that have kept the country in line. It’s a great place to live." - David Mamet

Burn Baby Burn

"In the church of my heart, the choir is on fire." - V. Mayakovsky

Britney Spears Died for Our Sins!

OK, well, I know she's not dead yet, and I don't wish for her demise. But if Dr. Phil, that smirking, bald-headed, TV head-shrinker gets his hands on her, well, I predict, that's when the doomsday clock on her earthly incarnation clicks into warp speed.

So the Britcastrophe, the Britpocalypse, the Britapalooza marches on. Britney makes Elvis' career melt-down look tame. Not sure what lessons we can draw from all of this. Too much, too soon. Too little, too late. Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing. "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom." - Wm. Blake

Take one lightly educated white cracker, add a dollop of insane wealth, mix in some new wiz-bang chemicals, magnify by a billion cameras and eyes and well, you get Bob Dole's wet dream. If Britney has reached some kind of pop cultural goddess wisdom, it is impermeable, unpenetrable for us mere mortals out in the hinterlands.

John Rogers of Kung Fu Monkey may have hit upon the truth of the situation. (You must check this out!) Think Britney - Codename: TOXIC! World Jihad can't hold a candle to the incandescent flame of the Britney torch!

"I remember getting really stoned in the kitchen with my cousin years ago coming up with shit like this...!" - sunnyjimmy

I'm thinking, of course, we truly live in a "Donnie Darko" universe. I mean, it used to be if you wanted to "blow your mind," you'd drop a tab of acid and put on Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon." Now, for a superior, mind-bending trip, just open up the NYT's Science Times and digest.

If these cosmologists have any fricking clue, (that's a major leap right there), our universe is just one of an infinite series. And in that infinity of infinities anything and everything will happen. Maybe over and over. Truly freaky. And well, it seems we are the "freaky observers." And well, come on, really, you got a problem with that?

As per the article: "You might wonder what’s wrong with a few brains — or even a preponderance of them — floating around in space. For one thing, as observers these brains would see a freaky chaotic universe, unlike our own, which seems to persist in its promise and disappointment."

Right?!

UPDATE: I heard from my brother this morning. He has a double major, math and art (go figure!). Anyway he read the article too, and just like me, it just tickled him pink. It's wonderful to think that we really live in an incredibly wacky universe where basically anything goes. During our conversation, I mentioned that maybe, just maybe, there was some kind of typo, and instead of cosmologists, the article was actually based on views of a bunch of cosmetologists, probably supremely stoned ones at that...could it be true?

"there's something wonderful inside those jeans waiting to get out." - Boogie Nights

I did enjoy "There Will Be Blood," PT Anderson's latest flick. It's a great American Epic, which might mean REALLY BORING, but isn't. It's about the Oil Racket, and the God Racket and the Oil & God Racket and it taps into America's love affair with it's own bootstrap myths. I loved the score by Johnny Greenwood of Radiohead, (what an unlikely choice), and well, the score serves as an off-kilter but satisfying sonic counterpoint. Daniel Day Lewis is phenomenal, playing the ultimate misanthrope, and if you think about it, that is our heritage and promise, hatred for the earth, for god, for humanity and self too. It's the hatred that unites us and gives us power as a country.

But you know, it's no "Boogie Nights," that great family values extravaganza, also known as the great Dirk Diggler saga, in my book (if I had one), one of the great movies of the last century (it was made in 1997). Somehow the porn business becomes a microcosm of America, and the story has all the quirks and foibles and detours that could come only as a result of using the real-life Johnny Holmes story as a touchstone, which helps drive the plot off a cliff. It's one of those flicks I can see over and over and still get more out of it. Plus the music perfectly captures a time and place. Who knew Marky Mark and Burt Reynolds could act? Of course the schlong at the end was about as real (and scary) and as important and ridiculous as Spielberg's rubber shark, but yes, I guess we really needed to see it. Didn't we?

FILM TRIVIA: This is funny, according to IMDB: "After seeing a rough cut of the film, Burt Reynolds regretted making it and fired his agent for recommending the role to him. Reynolds ended up winning a Golden Globe and being nominated for an Academy Award for his performance." Probably Reynolds best role, best performance since "Deliverance" and Reynolds fires his agent. Beautiful. I mean there's "Smokey and the Bandit," 1, 2, 3 and 4...the Reyonlds legend forges on!

Oh So Green! - OK Maybe Not!

I was screwing around with my blog, I kind of wrecked the look and feel, and then well, I decided to revamp it. Green is the buzzword. Green is good. Green is groovy. Green is the way to be. So, green it is.

UPDATE: I changed my mind, went back to the old template. I was able to fix my previous error, and well, I'm reverting! Change is good, but maybe not required. Green is good, but in this case not inevitable. Sorry for the indecsion, but what the heck!?! I was having trouble reading my own words with all that bright green in the background. And well really I don't need any more trouble...

Apocalypse Sandwich On the Menu!

"Look at the devilish engines of destruction! They are invented by completely innocuous gentlemen, reasonable, respectable citizens who are everything we could wish. And when the whole things blows up, and an indescribable hell of destruction is let loose, nobody seems to be responsible. It simply happens, and yet it is all man-made." - C.J. Jung


Check out this Czech art group's rendering of a nuclear explosion. Hat tip to Kris Cahill. For an antidote to this vision of mindless destruction, check out Kris' blog and enjoy some refreshing beauty and enlightenment @ Art & Clairvoyance.

Grinderman is My New Favorite Band!

These guys aren't pretty boys, they look like desperate men, escaped cons (no not cons, how about jaded mathematicians or burned out philosophers?) or cranky madmen, down and outers who somehow got their hands on shiny new suits. Their disc is superb, but really, what a great live act. Check out Grinderman on Letterman. I love that little toy guitar the guitar player is man-handling as if he's some debauched alchemist, he looks like a dude who escaped from the dark basement of his own delusion...

Faulty Towers

"Get hold of the main thing: that the world and the self are one and perfect. Only your attitude is faulty and needs readjustment." - Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

Note: I was always working under the assumption that we were imperfect beings born into an imperfect world. But of course in a weird paradoxical kind of way that would really be...perfect!

Burning Question of the Day

Is free market capitalism our revenge against nature?

Is it just an elaborate suicide machine, one that we've all hypnotized ourselves to believe in, a relentless machine designed to consume all of our resources, (turn us into consumers too), cashing them all into money or "profit" (a poor substitute for the wonders of nature), which ultimately, inevitably leads to death - man, civilization, planet?

Bonus question - is death our secret desire? Or is it because nature promises rebirth, but not immortality for our fragile egos, that we secretly want to destroy nature?

Just asking...

"The lions and the lambs ain't sleeping yet..." - Win Butler - Arcade Fire

The Medium

My 2008 started inauspiciously. I was knocked out by a bad cold for a whole week. Laid low by a germ. It was a reminder that my body is not always my friend, or if it is my friend, sometimes it's cranky, and it has it's own agenda. It also brought home the idea, no, probably better to say, the "experience" that I am (all of us are), more than my body. There's an energy or spirit that is more than just mucous and sweat, that seems to transcend the cell structure that's responsible for the moving parts. Even if I put on my skeptic's hat, this feeling of transcendence comes to me as a real (whatever that means) phenomena.

So I'm in a shamanistic frame of mind today. I am the medium (the monkey in the middle?), between the material and the spiritual. Finally the sickness has passed, and I'm feeling renewed from the Invision session (see previous post), yesterday. It's somewhat cool, or maybe even real cool to go to a place where other seekers meet to work on "another level," beyond the material.

So finally I feel the new year has begun. Last year there was much pain and blood-letting, a lot confusion and a lot of creativity and exploration too. I straddled the valley of destruction and creation (sounds like a new housing development?). Not a bad place to be.

It was good to let it all go, to open a new space for what comes next. And well, what comes next? As per some sage advice given yesterday, maybe it's best to experience whatever comes and worry about meanings later, maybe much, much later.

Sometimes Clowns are scary!

The Lovely Carla and I are off to Invision today for their annual "Endings and Beginnings" ritual. It's a powerful tool to let go of last year's energy, and to create new visions and realities for the new year. It's always powerful, and sometimes transcendent. I'm going with low expectations, but with a clear head and heart. I'm feeling very positive and optimistic. I've gathered all the gloom that's kind of hovered over me and wrapped it in a little clown suit! Sometimes clowns are scary!

"The fierce urgency of now..." - Rev. Martin Luther King

If you've got 20 minutes and 50 seconds, take the time to listen to this speech from Barack Obama. It was given before the Iowa caucus. It's truly stunning, fiery, passionate, reasoned, beautifully done, notice there isn't a teleprompter in sight.

A Shot of Love!

Pure delight. I must say, hearing that Barack Obama won the Iowa caucus last night was like getting a pure shot of love straight into the mainline! It may be a temporary thing, (I hope not!), but what a sweet high. Obama's political vision was in part inspired by Harold Washington, Chicago's great reform Mayor. Obama came to Chicago to become a community organizer when Harold's insurgent campaign brought him to City Hall, and now, many years later, Obama is the inspirer. I love his youth, his optimism, I do think he's a true progressive, and wow, what a refreshing presence. Audacity of Hope, indeed!

Radiator - On!

"The goal of life is not to possess power but to radiate it." - Henry Miller

Most Terrible Drug

"The reader, the thinker, the flaneur, are types of illuminati just as much as the opium eater, the dreamer, the ecstatic...not to mention that most terrible drug - ourselves - which we take in solitude." - Walter Benjamin

Pure Energy

The Lovely Carla and I go to a coffee shop two blocks from our apartment. We usually go for an afternoon latte fix. There is a kid there (anyone under thirty seems like a "kid" to me now), named Jonathan, who is a true artist in the making of a latte. He tops off his exquisite creations with a little foam and coffee sculpture, usually a leaf. It's truly an amazing feat, plus hands down, the best latte you've ever tasted.

Anyway, one day not long ago, Carla and I were having a conversation with Jonathan as he conjured up another amazing coffee creation. We talked about the state of the world, the future, etc. As we were leaving, Jonathan said to Carla, "well, it's all over in 2012, that's when we become pure energy."

Jonathan was referring to the prediction of the Mayan calendar. You can find more about that here. It seems the Mayans calculated that 2012 is gonna be the big party of parties! Now for some reason, hearing these words just made me so damn happy. "Pure energy" sounds so good. I've been feeling optimistic and happy ever since. I don't have one lick of evidence to back it up, but for some reason it totally resonates with me.

I do think we are in a really dark time. Human beings are very resistant to change, and we live in a sea of change, and well, sometimes it also all seems to be accelerating, which can be sort of disconcerting, makes us cling even more to some imagined sense of stability. But hell the planet is rocking and rolling, the galaxy is spinning. We're on a goddamn circus wheel and the wheel keeps on turning!

So whether the Mayans had a clue about any of this, frankly who the fuck knows? But it's New Years Day. And this day has never happened before. And this moment is unique, and the next one and one after that too. So I guess anything is possible. No matter what, I think we are all in for a wild ride. Look out here comes 2008!

The Shapes of Things

Awhile back I read an article about Tom Stoppard and his play, "Rock & Roll." He mentioned that at one point he considered writing about Syd Barrett, the great, lost frontman of early Pink Floyd. It kind of spurred my interest in Barrett too. So I ordered up a copy of "Crazy Diamond Syd Barrett & the Dawn of Pink Floyd." It's a very good bio of a baffling person. Barrett was a charismatic dude, an artist and musician, very witty, literate and experimental. After bursting on the scene with the first Floyd disc, "Pipers at the Gates of Dawn," Barrett totally spun out. He had a breakdown, no one was sure if it was the drugs, over-indulgence of mind altering substances, or just plain "mental illness" (whatever that is) that did him in.

Barrett, unlike Hendrix, and Brian Jones, did not check out of this earthly realm too soon, but instead retreated to his mother's house and lived a long reclusive existence, pretty much disassociating himself from his earlier persona. Syd was not his given name, it was actually Roger, and when fans would track him down and say "Hi Syd," he'd reply, "Syd's not here."

Anyway, it's one of those strange, artistic deaths, one wonders if Barrett was just too sensitive, too precious for this world, or was he just a drug casualty who burned out, and really, was turning away from music, fame and fortune the best thing for Roger Barrett in the long run?

Was the great promise of his early work an over-hyped chimera, or a just a glimmer a hint of great things to come that never did? That's sort of the mystery of the man. There's a cult built up around the "Crazy Diamond," and some people compare him to Rimbaud and Van Gogh - although, Syd kept both ears firmly attached until the end.

Barrett died July 7, 2006. At his funeral, a passage from one of Roger's favorite children's books "The Little Grey Men," was read. I'm thinking it's a useful instruction and well, a good epitaph for us all...

"The wonder of the world, the beauty and the power, the shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades; these I saw. Look ye also while life lasts."

And you know, even if Roger stopped the writing and singing...I don't think he ever stopped seeing, and maybe there's eloquence in the silence too.

Love All Around

Our band, WWSP (minus our dazzling bass player Sara), played the Elbo Room last night. We were the openers on a 5 band bill. Maybe it was because of the holidays or because it was a Saturday, or maybe the stars just aligned, but many of our friends and family came out to see us. It was such a rewarding experience. I thought we put on a really tight, high-energy set (even though at one point I stepped on my guitar cable and unplugged in the middle of a song - which actually added to the drama, and our great drummer Sanjay filled the resulting sonic void with some great drum and cymbal work).

We stayed out quite late, in fact, we stayed for the whole show watched all the other bands too. It was all so exhilarating. I should be exhausted, but no, I'm fired up today, listening to Arcade Fire's "Neon Bible." Check out this cool link! At first listen the new disc didn't bowl me over, like their first disc "Funeral," did, but on repeated listens, it is really starting to grow on me. I really love that band. I love ours too.

How Many Millionaires Can Dance on the Head of a Pin?

Wow. Back to politics for a moment. Check out this post from Lambert. I found it linked by Paul Krugman. Succintly explains how Americans have bought into the Billionaires game for the last 30 years or so. It has always been amazing to me how these elite rich folk have successfully glorified themselves, (a small, powerful, group that control the corporations and the political parties) and demonized the rest of us, the poor, the disenfranchised, the average working stiffs, anyone who isn't in the millionaires or billionaires club, and/or anyone who isn't lionizing them and wanting to be just like them. I mean don't we all want to learn all the great knowledge Donald fucking Trump can teach us? Certainly he has some secrets about hair-care that he can impart to us!

I mean, I guess we all want to be a millionaires, or billionaires, how many of us want to be on welfare or unemployment, how many of us feel solidarity with the dude asking for change on the corner? I for one, have always felt empathy for the "have nots," my motto has always been, "there but for the grace of god go I." I almost always want to bet on the underdog. I guess it kind of came out of the tradition of my family, working people, Democrats, FDR was a saint. Working stiffs, always striving for more, but just getting by really. And well, there's something noble about that too. And I don't think it's fucking class envy, but I have always been suspicious of the elite money. You know they wouldn't be where they are if it wasn't for all the "common folk" who bought their fucking products or services or whatever. They wouldn't fucking be rich, if it wasn't for all the other people in the world who did their jobs or bought their shit, or paid their taxes so we could even have a country to make profits in.

Solidarity!

Anyway, it's a great post. I do think our politics have been driving economics and it really should be the other way around. We have gone off the rails, and as per some enlightened friends I know, maybe it really will have to get even worse before it can get better, but I'm hoping we can use the 2008 election to start some kind of change of consciousness. So which millionaire running for office is gonna look out for the little guy? Who knows? I mean, "why a duck?" Krugman's analysis of Obama's rhetoric seems spot on. We do need a fucking fighter. Someone ready to go to the mat. Lambert gives it all context. Brilliant.

"I must above all things love myself..." - Nick Cave

Good consumers that we are, the Lovely Carla and I purchased a couple of music discs for Christmas. I think it was more of a Winter Solstice celebration really, because, come on, that whole virgin birth thing with the Immaculate Conception, the farm animals in the little manger, and the three wise guys bullshit, just sort of leaves me stone cold sober.

I came across Nick Cave's band Grinderman and their disc called, surprise, surprise, "Grinderman." There's a picture of a monkey on the cover, a little organ grinder type monkey. It's a perfect image to introduce you to the music on the little spinning disc. I'm thinking Nick is projecting himself onto that monkey, and in fact, I think he's projecting for all of us. We are all like that little organ grinder monkey, dancing to nature's unforgiving tune!

Here's a live version of Cave's "No Pussy Blues." All in all, it's a funny, raging little ditty. It's got a good beat, you can probably dance to it too! You know how to dance don't you...?

Robert and the Blue Glow

All the buzz was about the Led Zep reunion. And from the clips on YouTube it sure looked like Page, Plant, Jones and the newest version of Bonham did an admirable job of playing rock gods. But then the news came that Plant was not planning on touring with the rest of the boys anytime soon. Instead, he was going out on the road with the bluegrass fiddler, Alison Krauss.

Sort of baffling, until you actually hear their collaboration together on their superb new disc, "Raising Sand." It's a really unlikely and totally captivating melding of talents. T-Bone Burnett produced, he was the man responsible for putting the "O Brother Where Art Thou" disc together. T-Bone has assembled a great band to back the two vocalists. It's a disc of covers. And there's not a false note. From the first listen, I was totally knocked out. So, as Plant himself writes, "Gratitude to T-Bone and the Blue Glow (Krauss) who steered an old dog to new tricks."

The world clamors for Zep, and instead Plant goes on the road with the girl. Now in my book that is so cool!

Visionary

Julien Schnabel is an inspiring, visionary artist. His latest film is so beautiful, so powerful, so devastating. I mean that in the best way possible.

Seeing The Diving Bell and the Butterfly,""is an indelible experience. Words fail me. It's the best example of what film can do to us. The imagery washes over you and you ask yourself, "what is a life?"

"This Car Available"

Hey, well, check it out, the little band that the Lovely Carla and I started, WWSP, has finally entered the world of digital downloads. Our new release, "This Car Available," can now be purchased over at I've also added a permanent link on the right for future reference. We've been working on these songs for the last year or so, writing and recording them in our little home studio. It has been a labor of love.

"This Car Available" is made up of thirteen songs. The album represents a rewarding and unique collaboration, and a melding of minds. It's been a real blast to make these sounds. This is just a first step for us. We've been working with two other musicians, Sara on bass and Sanjay on drums and we are honing a unique live sound. We've done a number of shows in and around Chicago, playing some great rooms like Uncommon Ground, the Elbo Room, the Red Line Tap, Sylvies, the Skylark. And we plan on booking many more shows in the coming new year.

We hope to have a CD release party in early 2008. Anyway, it's kind of cool to be out in the ether, on iTunes with all those other great artists from Elvis to Elvis! One small step for a human, one great step for a band!

"I awakened to the cry that the people / have the power to redeem / the work of fools" - Patti Smith

I was dreaming in my dreaming too...

A Corporation has No Soul

One of our big problems is that many of us have signed our lives over to corporations, directly and indirectly. The purpose of setting up a corporation is to "limit liability" for the individuals who start the thing. As we all know people working together in groups can do amazing things, but when these groups become huge, multi-national entities, it is hard to hold them accountable to anything. Their core purpose is to maximize profits at all costs. That's the beauty of capitalism. This is not necessarily a soulful way to live, or to run an organization, or anything else really. In fact, its kind of a dead, zombie-like existence, a soulless way of life that goes on even as the people come and go. The people, the "worker bees," kind of adopt a "hive mentality" focusing on their little job, never looking at the bigger implications of what they do, and what the entity does with all their expended energy. The investors, the shareholders count their pennies and are happy they can buy all the shit they really don't need.

So we feed these mega-beasts and the beasts devour everything in their path. For instance, all the remaining resources on the planet will be devoured, if these corporate beasts are given enough time. We have built an extreme group of national and multi-national Terminators, large, killer-robot-like entities that make all kinds of things, some cool, some stupid, all of it probably not so necessary, but anyway it's the stuff we can never get enough of, and well, if we choke the planet with this stuff, drown ourselves in mountains of this stuff, hopefully we will be stupidly and happily sated, but probably not.

So, yeah, a corporation has no soul. Even the ones telling us they do, even the ones with the great and cool ad campaigns that show us how enlightened and brilliant they are, and even the ones with the cool logos that everyone wants on their shoes and pants, and shirts, and well, maybe some of us will even start tattooing ourselves with those same logos and well, it probably makes us less human and more zombie-like and maybe that's really the goal anyway. We can't live forever, but our corporate Terminators can, or that's maybe our secret wish, but the zombie needs to live off the living right? So maybe it all just comes to a halt and then the big creaking hulks all over the planet slowly disintegrate back into the soil, because of course, "rust never sleeps."

"The system sucks..."

I must admit, I've burned a lot of brain cells thinking about the Presidential election slated for November 2008. Not one vote has been cast and already I've vacillated and flip-flopped between the three main Democratic contenders. Partly because they are all good candidates and their policy positions aren't really all that different. But there are differences between them and their approaches are instuctive. I do think this will be a major realignment election, it should bode well for progressives - we really should go for the "whole hog."

My first intuitive choice was Obama, but Clinton and Edwards have at times endeared themselves to me. When everyone was attacking Hilary, for being a woman, having cleavage, being married to the Big Dog, I started to root for her. Now that she and the Big Dog have started attacking Obama, they have kind of gone down on the "sunnyjimmy politico-meter." Lately John Edwards has impressed me with his attacks on the great corporate beast that is sucking the blood out of the country. Obama is still the only one who was against the Iraq war from the beginning. That holds a lot of weight for me.

This post below by Atrios, over at Eschaton seems to sum up the campaign so far in a very concise manner. I think he's nailed it. Looking at it this way, I'd say I'd put myself in the Edwards camp. I do think we need to fight like hell to destroy the system. It's that bad! Having a smart lawyer who made his fortune fighting the corporate beast is a solid credential to bring to the table.

Here's Atrios:

Shorter Candidates

Obama: The system sucks, but I'm so awesome that it'll melt away before me.

Edwards: The system sucks, and we're gonna have to fight like hell to destroy it.

Clinton: The system sucks, and I know how to work within it more than anyone.

-Atrios 18:58

UPDATE: Paul Krugman's column in the NY Times today seems to also recognize that 2008 could be a great moment for progressive politics, but to accomplish anything we will need a real fighter to take on the entrenched corporate interests in health care (and elsewhere) to make any headway. It's kind of a slam against Obama's "big table" approach. Probably another good reason to support Edwards. I mean, one wonders how aggressively Clinton, who is taking loads of big bucks from these same interests, will take on her own big bucks donors when it's time for a little reform?!

UPDATE #2: Okay, as per Brian Beutler, via Ezra Klien, via Matt Yglesias check this out, this is how John Edwards would tackle health care reform. He'd challenge Congress to offer average Americans the same health care benefits that Congress itself receives. If individual Congressmen and women refused, President Edwards would use the "bully pulpit," and he'd go to their Congressional districts and call them out on it. Now that's the kind of confrontational approach that just might get things moving!

It's Us Baby!

Paul Krugman blogs about carbon dioxide here. I don't own a car, I don't eat meat, I recycle, I now have my own cup when I go to the coffee shop, I use cloth bags when I go to the grocery store, I turn off the lights and the computer when I leave the house. Much of this is thanks to the Lovely Carla's strong environmental evangelism. Still, I know this is nothing, not even a drop of water in the great ocean.

As Al Gore tells us, some kind of massive collective action is required. A lot of shit is gonna change big time when all the polar ice melts, and we kill off species left and right. We have destroyed, are destroying our ecosystem. We evolved out of this ecosystem, everything has a "job" everything is connected. We are killing ourselves. It's a slow, massive suicide. And it's our own arrogance, ignorance and ridiculous greed that drives this forward.

Fucking amazing!

And well, our great leaders dither or worse, actually, intentionally, drag their feet on this issue. Maybe it's too big? I don't buy it. It goes against the free market capital religion. Somehow the great free market will somehow miraculously fix this, and we'll all make shit loads of money. That's how it goes right? What a load of shit. We need collective action. We need regulation, targets, priorities. Smacks of "socialism?" Whatever.

I do think Al Gore is the prophet in the wilderness. The problem is, the wilderness is shrinking around us and it will disappear. We will drown, we will starve, we will roast. Somehow the planet will adjust. Don't worry, the planet will survive this, but the people, well that's another fucking story. And we can't blame some god here, it ain't the devil's doing. It's us baby, we are the fucking culprits!

John Bites the Apple

December is a hard month. What with the holidays, and the marking of time. You think of all those who have come and gone. As the years go by (nice title for a song), the memories of all those bloody christmases kind of flood in. Living in the present and the past at the same time is kind of a drag. As per a Philip Dick novel, it might be cool to just wipe out some of those past experiences, but I guess it kind of defeats the purpose (is there one?) of going through it all in the first place.

Every year, we get a little christmas tree, the Lovely Carla decorates it. She puts so much creativity and care into it. Each ornament has a story. The tree is one big novel all it's own, with subplots and detours. When she finally plugs in the lights and turns them on, the little sparkling colors just bowl you over. It's that beautiful.

Of course, the damn little tree is sad too. I mean, it's been cut, it's dying, and it won't last long. We ornament it, light it up, make it more than what it is, or maybe less? The tree is a little lesson too. A lesson we know already, every year we do the same thing, and it's never quite the same, and that's part of the process too.

December. My father was born in December. I think of him a lot. John Lennon died in December. I think of him a lot too. People who are gone, are gone, and well they aren't really gone either. And that's how it goes too.

"Christ, You Know it Ain't Easy..." - J. Lennon

Okay, this is superbly bleeding/fucking hilarious.

The Democratic-led House passed a resolution yesterday (the vote was 372-9 in favor) that does the following:

(1) recognizes the Christian faith as one of the great religions of the world;
(2) expresses continued support for Christians in the United States and worldwide;
(3) acknowledges the international religious and historical importance of Christmas and the Christian faith;
(4) acknowledges and supports the role played by Christians and Christianity in the founding of the United States and in the formation of the western civilization;
(5) rejects bigotry and persecution directed against Christians, both in the United States and worldwide; and
(6) expresses its deepest respect to American Christians and Christians throughout the world.

Isn't that sweet? How about all the fucking pain and misery that that crazy cult inspired too? Let's not forget all the faith-based wars (as Dylan reminds us, "they all had god on their side!"), the Inquisition, the collusion with the Fascists and Dictators of the world, the Holocaust, all the bleeding raping of the land, the constant blood and conquest blessed and condoned by our precious holy ones. Plus, there's the sex abuse scandals ensnaring a goodly segment of the Catholic Priesthood and there's the decades long "coverup" that enabled our favorite Parish Priests to sample the finest altar boys in the land.

After all is said and done, I'd say this Christian thing is a pretty mixed bag. Although, I suppose it's good to see our representatives are stepping up to the plate and taking tough stands on the important issues of the day.

Merry Fucking Christmas!

Fearless Speech

From Al Gore's speech to the Nobel Committee:

"But the outcome will be decisively influenced by two nations that are now failing to do enough: the United States and China. While India is also growing fast in importance, it should be absolutely clear that it is the two largest CO2 emitters – most of all, my own country – that will need to make the boldest moves, or stand accountable before history for their failure to act. Both countries should stop using the other's behavior as an excuse for stalemate and instead develop an agenda for mutual survival in a shared global environment."

The full text is here."

Also check this out.

IF NOAM CHOMSKY DIDN'T EXIST, IT WOULD BE NECESSARY TO INVENT HIM:


And then there's this trailer for "Machine Girl." Just in time for the holidays!

Help Wanted

100 year old Zen Master Kyozan Joshu Sasaki Roshi looking for successor. Qualifications required: someone who can totally abandon their ego and manifest that zero state that is neither subject nor object and that is a complete unification of plus and minus.

"A WAR CRIMINAL IN THE OVAL OFFICE" - A. Sullivan

It's Sunday. Maybe my outrage should take a rest for a day. But you know what? A little Mocha Java and I'm fucking fired up. I don't agree with Andrew Sullivan on a lot of issues, but on torture I think he consistently gets it right. Yes. It's not new news, but we have a war criminal in the White House. I mean, at least two of them. I see that Joe Biden is calling for an independent prosecutor to sort things out. Sounds like a good first step. Any other Democrats want to weigh in? I know it's primary season, candidates are careful not to take controversial stands, but this seems like a "no shit Sherlock" moment. Biden is known to be a little bit of a blowhard. But now is a time to blow hard on this corrupt house of cards. I mean FUCKING REALLY?!

EDITORIAL NOTE: Sorry for the excessive, almost Tourette's stream of "fucks" lately. But you know, what the fuck?!

UPATE: I'm thinking to myself, "why the outrage?" I guess, to answer myself, "it's either outrage or despair." Or actually it's probably outrage and despair. I was born here, I'm trying to make a life here. I pay taxes, I vote. I sort of give a shit about who represents me in the world. It's kind of that existential conundrum (Satre and Camus - those dudes with the berets would undersatnd), I am responsible, even for the things I seemingly have no control over. Eventhough, I am powerless - or no, not powerless, I could leave the country, I could stop paying taxes. I could go to jail in protest. But, well, I'm not willing to go that far. So instead, I throw these words out into the blogosphere, I live with the responsibility, the guilt. I feel responsible and guilty for the things some fat fuck in Washington is doing or not doing in my name. Is that the Liberal's disease? Is it preposterous? The only things I seem to be left with - anger, outrage, despair. And laughter. Cynical, sardonic. How not to get hardened, corrupted by all the shit too? So it's maybe not necessarily the good kind of laughter, more like the "laughing past the graveyard" kind of laughter. Here it comes again: FUCK!

UPDATE #2: As Glen Greenwald points out, and as per an article in the Washington Post today, key Democrats on the "Intelligence" Committee were briefed on, and enabled, the torture atrocities. Rockefeller, Graham, Pelosi, Harman (supposedly Harman wrote a letter of protest, but all the others were silent). This is a bi-partisan scandal. I suppose the "fear of terrorism" made all these highly-paid fucks crumble like little fortune cookies. It's safe to say that yes, the terrorists did win. It's amazing how quickly our government gave up on some core principles that define a civilized, law-abiding nation. All we are really left with is a country of brute power, blood and rivers of cash. It's a hollow republic and we are truly fucked! Have a nice day!

These are the Fucking Good Guys, Right?

So it looks like the CIA tortured a mentally ill dude, made him confess to all kinds of non-existent crazy ass terror plots, rushed around trying to squelch such non-existent crazy ass plots, all to save face for our tin-pot dictator wannabe, the venerable Moron in Chief. Joseph Stalin, if he were still around, would be so proud of our current Commander.

Then the CIA, just to cover their sorry asses (did any one say "crimes against humanity?"), destroyed the videotaped evidence. How convenient. It kind of takes your breath away. Make up the worst shit you can possibly imagine. Then read the headlines. It's actually fucking worse! That's our America, land of the free, home of the brave. Fuck.

Religious Shite!

People are free to believe any wacko shit they want to, right? I mean, what the hell, the universe is big, and there's all kinds of crazy things happening, and well once you get your head around the idea that we evolved from bacteria, just about anything seems possible.

But when we talk about respecting others "faith," what we really mean is we tolerate people holding some really stupid, crazy ideas in their heads, and that these folks somehow think that by believing this crazy shit, they somehow get a ticket to some exclusive club where all the other good dead people go because they also believed that crazy shit too.

Some of the crazy shit includes: there's a god, a great overseer who gives a flying fuck about what we do, there are virgin births, rising from the dead, re-incarnation. The usual stuff. Then there's additionally wacko shit like Mormonism where people believe that Jesus walked around in America, Joseph Smith dug up a book buried by an angel, there is special underwear that will protect you from harm (we're not talking Victoria' Secret, are we?), men should take multiple wives (okay, supposedly they've retired that one).

Most "faiths" profess that if you don't believe what the other freaks believe, you are fated to burn in hell for eternity.

Now that's all well and good, but when we have politicians who are vying for a pretty damn important job, wanting us to take them seriously, do you think maybe we should call them out on some of this shit? And what about how some of these same bastards have demonized a religion (Muslims believe some crazy shit too, but I guess there are levels of crazy here, right?) and well if you're holding some crazy ass ideas in your head, doesn't it compromise your ability to condemn someone else's crazy ass ideas?

UPDATE: Exactafuckinzakly!

Lost Causes

I took one of those on-line polls, I can't find the link now, that asks a series of questions, and then matches you with a candidate. It seems my preference for bringing the troops home from Iraq immediately, giving amnesty to all the illegals already here, and having a universal health care system, matches me up best with these three guys in this order - Mike Gravel (sounds like a character in a Mikey Spillane novel), Dennis Kucinich (wasn't he an extra in the Wizard of Oz?) and John Edwards (didn't Bill Clinton once say John was such a smooth talker he could talk a squirrel out of a tree?).

I don't really think any of these three has a snowball's chance in hell of winning the Democratic nomination. My preference is still Obama, but I recently heard a little of the NPR debate in Iowa, and frankly all of the candidates in the Democratic field sound reasonable and intelligent to me. Now wouldn't that be a refreshing change?

Anway, got me thinking, I've not always been the best at picking winners. My absolute favorite all time candidates in no particular order - Jerry Brown (Mike Royko dubbed him Governor Moonbeam), Eugene McCarthy (the great insurgent!), Robert Kennedy (gunned down), and George McGovern (lost in a landslide!).

Three of those guys wanted to end the war in Vietnam. If they'd been elected, most likely, thousands of lives would have been saved...but of course McGovern actually lost to the all time CREEP, Hunter S. Thompson's doppelganger, Richard Nixon! Early on, I realized my politics was kind of inspired by Saint Jude. Saint Jude, of course was the saint of lost causes and hopeless cases.

"You got the yay-yo?" - Tony Montana

Did Karl Marx foresee this?

Hedge fund managers living the life of Tony Montana? I know that the De Palma directed, Oliver Stone scripted "Scarface," with the great Al Pacino, is a touchstone film for many in the Hip Hop community, but when our Titans of Finance are living the lurid, cocaine-fueled high-life, frolicking with male dancers named "Tiger," ending up dead, face down in a swimming pool, you have to wonder if maybe our capitalistic paradise has reached some kind of decadent apotheosis.

I mean, it used to be our drug lords, our rock stars, would be expected to spontaneously combust. When our lawyers and financiers are following a script conjured by Oliver Stone, well, maybe the end times for this capitalized beast really are near.

Accurate and Impermanent

"I think of dancing as movement, any kind of movement. It is as accurate and impermanent as breathing." - Merce Cunningham

Hey, Let's Get the Mice to Exercise for Us!

As a long time runner, this story is not surprising in the least. Feeling down in the dumps? Take a long run on a short pier! I am here to attest that yes, exercise can cure the blues. So scientists have been putting mice through their paces to demonstrate that exercise produces a naturally occurring anti-depressant chemical in the brain. Extrapolating from the evidence: what's good for the mouse is good for us.

Read the story until the end to get to the punch-line: "Besides offering more support for the benefits of exercise, the findings also point to VGF as a target for new antidepressants, according to Duman and his colleagues. Such medications, they point out, would work by an entirely different mechanism than existing antidepressants, which are effective for about 65 percent of patients."

Now that's the ticket! I'm thinking the underlying assumption is that nobody is gonna actually get out there and run or jump or walk. Exercise takes time, and it's hard, and who really wants to sweat? Hell, this is just another great opportunity for the drug industry to create more product. We are living proof of better living through chemistry. Is this the Timothy Leary Legacy?!

I'm thinking in another time and place our Pharmaceutical Industry would be called the Snake Oil Business. I've known folks who have been stuck on anti-depressants for years, and well, I'm convinced the best drugs in life are free and/or illegal!

DISLCLAIMER: The author of the above post, and frankly all the other posts found on this site, imbibes massive doses of highly-concentrated java daily. This leads to states of euphoria, excessive dizziness, long unfocused rambles, and incoherent flights of fancy. Please read this blog with caution. After reading a post, if you experience any of the above symptoms, please consult a physician.

Euphoria

According to the definition I found on the web - Euphoria: Elevated mood. Euphoria is a desirable and natural occurrence when it results from happy or exciting events. An excessive degree of euphoria that is not linked to events is characteristic of hypomania or mania, abnormal mood states associated with bipolar disorders.

Yes well. Last night, dancing on thin ice, we put on the a rock show at the Red Line Tap. We packed the place. We rocked. It was a great night. Probably the best show WWSP has done to date. The Telepaths brought the mayhem. Tiffany Tarpit sat in, and well, it was rock and roll magic. The Cells performed a tight set of power pop gems.

I'd say I'm experiencing an abnormal mood-state today. Still riding the adrenaline rush. It's cool to play rock star. I feel like trashing a hotel room, or driving a limo into a swimming pool. I'll resist the impulse.

"What's the world got in store, for you?" - Jeff Tweedy

A storm is coming tonight. I mean besides the winter storm that's supposed to whap us upside the head. A rock show is coming to the Red Line Tap tonight, featuring three of my favorite bands (yes, I'm biased, I'm in two of them). The Cells, The Telepaths and WWSP are joining forces to help the kids. That's right, it's a Toys for Tots benefit. Raising toys and cash for needy children.

It should be a real r&r blast. I've seen the Cells once before, they are led by a true rock and roll original, the human jukebox himself Cory Hance. Cory is a charismatic dude who writes, sings and plays with passion, verve, excitement. He's a true rock and roll star. The Cells are one of the great bands in the City.

The Telepaths are my band of brothers. Like minded musical anarchists working in the trenches of the rough and tumble trench of garage rock. I play guitar, Cory is on bass, Peter is our drummer and Patrick is our vocalist. I don't exactly know what it is, but put us in a room together and sparks ignite. There's a wildness, a sloppiness about our approach, and that's where the excitement begins. You just don't know what's gonna happen. We are oh so "telepathic," in that whatever we do sounds unmistakably like us. But we really have no idea of what's coming next. Tonight we will have a special guest, Tiffany Tarpit, from a great band that is no longer with us. She will be fronting the band on "Fresh 24," check out the song. We don't exactly play it like that, but should be a highlight of tonight's set.

Then there's WWSP my labor of love with the lovely Carla. She fronts a sweetly whimsical bunch - Sara on bass, Sanjay on drums, me on guitar. It's quite the journey. We are still jelling working on an ever-expanding set of originals. It's one of the most intensely creative, and exciting projects I've ever had the pleasure of participating in.

Anyway, hope you can make the show. I'm sure to have some words about it tomorrow!