...apparently. I know, I've said that I try to be provocative, if not controversial, in these posts. Occasionally, though, as in last week's, I try to avoid any hint of conflict or "attitude," and just muse about something that I can tie to a particular group of songs I've chosen to play on the radio that week. Even then, though, it's hard to avoid giving the impression to at least some readers that there's some subtext there, one that even I am unaware of. Perhaps if I were a better writer (not ending sentences with prepositions as I did the last one, for instance) I could convey just what I want and nothing else, but it turns out that this writing stuff is pretty hard.
This week, for instance, I want to continue my sporadic series of songs with women's names in the title. I found the last one--which was also, weirdly, the first one (see what I mean about how words sneak around and trap you into unmeant meanings?)--to be a lot of fun, and there are certainly lots of those songs around, and if you have any to suggest I'd love to hear from you. But trying to write something to explain why I might be playing those songs, other than for the above reasons, which don't lend themselves to becoming an interesting post, turns out to be fraught.
I was gonna talk about how I've always preferred the company of women to men, how, given the choice to talk to a man or a woman, I'd choose the woman 99% of the time (commitment issues prevent me from making that 100%). But right there I've offended all of my male friends, of which I had many, I think, and raised the question of why I prefer women's company. Is it sexual, am I just an inveterate (or maybe, being spineless, that should be "invertebrate") flirt at best, predator at worst? Do I feel superior somehow to women? Inferior to other men? Is it because I couldn't talk easily to my father? Jesus, leave me alone, willya? I just want to play some songs, for Chrissakes. Oh, um, I guess those voices were technically just in my head. Nevermind.
Besides, men are on our way out: Hanna Rosin, an editor at The Atlantic, has a new book out entitled The End of Men: And the Rise of Women (I don't really get what that colon's doing there) which makes the case that the era, which to me means most of history, of male economic supremacy is gone for good. Among other things, women in their 20s now out-earn men in their 20s, and more and more young women are choosing "hookups" rather than relationships so that they can have the sex without commitment getting in the way of their freedom. Guys, why didn't we ever think of that one?? What?
So, dammit, I'm just gonna be uncontroversial and play songs with women's names in the title. Last time I got through "X," so this time I'll start with Ottmar Liebert's "Yasmeen," John Gorka's "Zuly," and then back to the top. I'm also, I think, going to try to resurrect The Nails' "classic" "88 Lines About 44 Women," 'cause it seems apropos somehow. Join me, won't you?
100.1 FM, www.wool.fm on Tuesday from noon till two.
We're all still pals, right, guys?
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
"I Never Meta-Post...
I didn't like," Will Rogers might've said (except maybe Wiley Post, who was flying the plane whose crash killed Rogers in 1935, so he became ex Post: facto; or the New York Post, whose front page headline today used the word "loon" to describe the guy who posted the video that has set the Middle East back on fire). But he didn't, 'cause he didn't know from blog posts, of course.
I, on the other hand, am about to meta-post. I've been doing this blog thing since mid-January, to a total of 40 posts. While it can hardly be said that readership is growing exponentially, it does seem to be growing. I send post notices out to about 60 people; assuming that half of them either ignore me or send me to spam, there's 30 or so peops who I figure read somewhat regularly. The blog has been averaging around 130 visits a week, so somebody's going there. For the uninitiated, then, a mission-statement.
I began writing primarily to publicize my radio show. It runs on a low-power FM station in Bellows Falls, VT, and, on a good day, all weather conditions and planetary alignments being favorable, can be pulled out of the air from as much as a half-mile away. WOOL also streams live on the interwebs, so it's available there, but, as the show is from noon till two pm on Tuesdays, very few on my mailing list are able to listen at that time. It's almost like I didn't want to be heard, isn't it, all of you armchair psychologists? But I do. So, I thought, if I linked the subject matter of the blog to the show's theme, even people who couldn't get the show would have some idea what I was up to, at least regarding that facet of my life, and if they cared. And there are at least two jokes that I know to illustrate that sort of, not really synesthesia, but of one sense compensating for the lack of another, that I'm refraining from telling. One's racist and the other's just too lowbrow. Look how mature I can be!
I also wanted the posts and shows to be topical and timely as much as possible. Thus, I'm often writing about somewhat controversial things and, as a committed Lefty, from that perspective. Although the elite Right-Wing media keep trying to portray it as otherwise, I think the Limbaughs and O'reillys drive public discourse today and work diligently, through spin, selective context, and outright lies to affect the mood and direction of the country. I try, although surprisingly my audience is smaller than theirs, to be a voice counteracting what I see as their self-serving and dangerous ideas (See what I mean about the Lefty thing?). As a result of "speak(ing) today in hard words" as Emerson had it, I've gotten some surprising (to me) reactions. In fact this post is a reaction to that issue: a newbie reader who expressed some concern my regarding tone, directness, and their effect on audience reaction. Thus this attempted clarification.
Some find my "rants," as they are commonly called by readers, too angry, some too politically different from their views. That I can understand--I don't listen to Rush or watch BillO for the same reason. But I'm not as angry as it may sound; that's partly persona and pseudo-extremism. Mostly I'm amazed and bemused by what's going on, and feeling like others ought to be aware. In an earlier post I characterized what I'm doing as Secular Prayer, and I guess I'll leave it at that. The country's under attack and I'm trying to man my barricades. As an agnostic, civil-apostate fan of appositives, I'm just sayin'.
This week's show, as yang to last week's yin, will be "listen" songs. Haven't even thought of any (any suggestions?) but I know they're out there. There's lots of talk out there, but still a lot of important things to listen to, and too often we miss them.
Self-aggrandizement department: one of these past posts, I'm not even sure which, will be printed in a forthcoming book by world renowned writer and professor Dr. Brock Dethier. I also don't know title or publication date of the book, as Brock was noticibly reticent with details, or if the post will be cited as a positive or negative example of the form. Not knowing stuff never keeps me from pronouncing on it, though. And I'm a published, professional (to the tune of $50 smackers) writer now. So.
I, on the other hand, am about to meta-post. I've been doing this blog thing since mid-January, to a total of 40 posts. While it can hardly be said that readership is growing exponentially, it does seem to be growing. I send post notices out to about 60 people; assuming that half of them either ignore me or send me to spam, there's 30 or so peops who I figure read somewhat regularly. The blog has been averaging around 130 visits a week, so somebody's going there. For the uninitiated, then, a mission-statement.
I began writing primarily to publicize my radio show. It runs on a low-power FM station in Bellows Falls, VT, and, on a good day, all weather conditions and planetary alignments being favorable, can be pulled out of the air from as much as a half-mile away. WOOL also streams live on the interwebs, so it's available there, but, as the show is from noon till two pm on Tuesdays, very few on my mailing list are able to listen at that time. It's almost like I didn't want to be heard, isn't it, all of you armchair psychologists? But I do. So, I thought, if I linked the subject matter of the blog to the show's theme, even people who couldn't get the show would have some idea what I was up to, at least regarding that facet of my life, and if they cared. And there are at least two jokes that I know to illustrate that sort of, not really synesthesia, but of one sense compensating for the lack of another, that I'm refraining from telling. One's racist and the other's just too lowbrow. Look how mature I can be!
I also wanted the posts and shows to be topical and timely as much as possible. Thus, I'm often writing about somewhat controversial things and, as a committed Lefty, from that perspective. Although the elite Right-Wing media keep trying to portray it as otherwise, I think the Limbaughs and O'reillys drive public discourse today and work diligently, through spin, selective context, and outright lies to affect the mood and direction of the country. I try, although surprisingly my audience is smaller than theirs, to be a voice counteracting what I see as their self-serving and dangerous ideas (See what I mean about the Lefty thing?). As a result of "speak(ing) today in hard words" as Emerson had it, I've gotten some surprising (to me) reactions. In fact this post is a reaction to that issue: a newbie reader who expressed some concern my regarding tone, directness, and their effect on audience reaction. Thus this attempted clarification.
Some find my "rants," as they are commonly called by readers, too angry, some too politically different from their views. That I can understand--I don't listen to Rush or watch BillO for the same reason. But I'm not as angry as it may sound; that's partly persona and pseudo-extremism. Mostly I'm amazed and bemused by what's going on, and feeling like others ought to be aware. In an earlier post I characterized what I'm doing as Secular Prayer, and I guess I'll leave it at that. The country's under attack and I'm trying to man my barricades. As an agnostic, civil-apostate fan of appositives, I'm just sayin'.
This week's show, as yang to last week's yin, will be "listen" songs. Haven't even thought of any (any suggestions?) but I know they're out there. There's lots of talk out there, but still a lot of important things to listen to, and too often we miss them.
Self-aggrandizement department: one of these past posts, I'm not even sure which, will be printed in a forthcoming book by world renowned writer and professor Dr. Brock Dethier. I also don't know title or publication date of the book, as Brock was noticibly reticent with details, or if the post will be cited as a positive or negative example of the form. Not knowing stuff never keeps me from pronouncing on it, though. And I'm a published, professional (to the tune of $50 smackers) writer now. So.
Monday, September 10, 2012
"You're Talkin' A Lot...
So, the political conventions are over, and the silly season is upon us in earnest. Everybody's talkin' at us, but it's hard to hear a word they're sayin', mostly 'cause they're not really saying much. Empty platitudes, hollow, base (in at least two senses)-pleasing rhetoric, and the implication, from all of that, that we're just too partisan or dumb to know the difference. Real issues, to which necessary attention must be paid, Mrs. Loman, will have to wait until the wet fingers dry and candidates can safely see which way they think the wind is blowing.
Obama's convention speech was inspiring, Kennedyesque in the best sense, trying to remind us all that it takes all of us pulling together to make this whole grandiose experiment work. I hope, if he manages to get re-elected, that he acts to back up the rhetoric. "Let's see action," I say. I've been sorry to see the ad Scott Brown, one of the few Repugs who seems genuinely willing to work in a bi-partisan fashion, as the Republic was designed, has been running, pandering to Massachusetts fishermen, complaining about government over-regulating the industry: there aren't enough goddam fish!! We have to have limits, except in the silly season, which, unfortunately, seems to be every season these days. Why can't we learn from the Brits, whose campaigns last about 4 weeks, and who can call for new elections when it becomes clear that the current administration is ineffective. Then again, that'd probably just lead to virtually perpetual elections here.
"Talk" songs this week, then, in honor of the hot air and impotent and condescending promises we'll be inundated by in the next two months. Tuesday, noon till two at the usual spot. And again, I hope to see lots of you on Saturday night at 33 Bridge St. in BF: 3 bands for five bucks, all you can drink (till your money runs out or I shut you off) and loads of fun, all in support of WOOL FM. Support Community Radio!
...but you're not sayin' anything."
Better run run run run run run run away.
Obama's convention speech was inspiring, Kennedyesque in the best sense, trying to remind us all that it takes all of us pulling together to make this whole grandiose experiment work. I hope, if he manages to get re-elected, that he acts to back up the rhetoric. "Let's see action," I say. I've been sorry to see the ad Scott Brown, one of the few Repugs who seems genuinely willing to work in a bi-partisan fashion, as the Republic was designed, has been running, pandering to Massachusetts fishermen, complaining about government over-regulating the industry: there aren't enough goddam fish!! We have to have limits, except in the silly season, which, unfortunately, seems to be every season these days. Why can't we learn from the Brits, whose campaigns last about 4 weeks, and who can call for new elections when it becomes clear that the current administration is ineffective. Then again, that'd probably just lead to virtually perpetual elections here.
"Talk" songs this week, then, in honor of the hot air and impotent and condescending promises we'll be inundated by in the next two months. Tuesday, noon till two at the usual spot. And again, I hope to see lots of you on Saturday night at 33 Bridge St. in BF: 3 bands for five bucks, all you can drink (till your money runs out or I shut you off) and loads of fun, all in support of WOOL FM. Support Community Radio!
...but you're not sayin' anything."
Better run run run run run run run away.
Monday, September 3, 2012
"Someone's Been Telling You Stories..."
In the course of my job as a general contractor, I work for and with (and probably other prepositions as well--healthcare practitioners get to say they work on people, which, as far as anyone knows is not true for me) a variety of people and types of people. As in all relationships there are minefields and pitfalls one must negotiate, things one can and can't safely discuss in the course of friendly and casual conversation on the jobsite.
I just finished finishing-up a project for a late-ish middle-aged couple, a few years older than me. They're very nice folks in general, and they are rabid Republicans. During campaign season you can count on their yard being plastered with campaign signs, stumping for every Republican candidate from dog-catcher to President. Some of the people who worked on that job (see, we can work on jobs, if not people) also shared their political views to one degree or another. In fact, one of them used to be a "Follower" of this site but left, I guess because it was too left. They believe what they believe at least as fervently as I believe my beliefs. It got me to wondering how that sort of thing happens.
We all love stories, have throughout the course of human history, from griots and bards through novelists and screenwriters. It could be argued that, beyond food, shelter, and clothing, stories--and probably art in general, as witness cave paintings, petroglyphs, The Rolling Stones and other ancient examples-- is the fourth basic essential human need. In this political season--and when isn't it political season in the US, to our collective exhaustion?--there's certainly no shortage of stories being told.
There is, of course, no inherent connection between stories and truth; some of our stories are true, some--often the most enjoyable--are outright fiction. It's when the fictions blur into, or are presented as, facts that things can get pretty sketchy. Today we have several media-watchdog organizations who vet political ads and claims for their relation to the facts, bestowing ratings like "three Pinnochios" or "Pants on Fire," depending upon the veracity of the propaganda.
From my precarious perch on the Left, it sure looks to me that the stories primarily come from the folks on the other side. I mentioned several of them in passing in last week's post: Obama's Kenyan birth, Muslim faith, plans to confiscate all guns and to take private property into government control via armies of UN soldiers or Martians or something, are just a few a few of the stories being promulgated in the elite Right Wing Media: in print, on Fox Noise, and, especially, I think, on Hate Radio (66.6 on your AM and FM dial--and the fillings in your teeth, and the receivers they implant in your brains, and other silly stuff I'm making up). But why are so many otherwise smart and decent people so eager to believe such rot?
Turns out it's biological. Recent studies discussed in a number of places (the two I consulted were Psychology Today and the blog Live Science), cited experiments that show that, when shown photos of positive things (cute little bunnies, beautiful sunsets, marijuana [I made that one up]), or negative and gross things (car crashes, maggot-infested wounds, Ted Nugent [I made that one, up, too, but...] ), conservatives spent more time looking at, and were more affected by, the negative images, while liberals were drawn to the positive stuff. The upshot, I guess, is that we may really not have a choice in how we think, politically: we're just wired (or, for conservatives, weird--wouldn't resist that) in that way. Verrrry eenterresting....
Story songs, then, this week. This post title, f'rinstance, comes from a Dan Fogelberg song, as will the coda, which is coming up soon, honest. Tuesday, noon till two, 100.1 FM, wwww.wool.fm on the webs. And don't forget on Sept. 15, the final in the DothWool series at 33 Bridge St. in Bellows Falls, three bands for 5 bucks and a really cool bartender, unless I show up instead.
...and they just ain't true."
I just finished finishing-up a project for a late-ish middle-aged couple, a few years older than me. They're very nice folks in general, and they are rabid Republicans. During campaign season you can count on their yard being plastered with campaign signs, stumping for every Republican candidate from dog-catcher to President. Some of the people who worked on that job (see, we can work on jobs, if not people) also shared their political views to one degree or another. In fact, one of them used to be a "Follower" of this site but left, I guess because it was too left. They believe what they believe at least as fervently as I believe my beliefs. It got me to wondering how that sort of thing happens.
We all love stories, have throughout the course of human history, from griots and bards through novelists and screenwriters. It could be argued that, beyond food, shelter, and clothing, stories--and probably art in general, as witness cave paintings, petroglyphs, The Rolling Stones and other ancient examples-- is the fourth basic essential human need. In this political season--and when isn't it political season in the US, to our collective exhaustion?--there's certainly no shortage of stories being told.
There is, of course, no inherent connection between stories and truth; some of our stories are true, some--often the most enjoyable--are outright fiction. It's when the fictions blur into, or are presented as, facts that things can get pretty sketchy. Today we have several media-watchdog organizations who vet political ads and claims for their relation to the facts, bestowing ratings like "three Pinnochios" or "Pants on Fire," depending upon the veracity of the propaganda.
From my precarious perch on the Left, it sure looks to me that the stories primarily come from the folks on the other side. I mentioned several of them in passing in last week's post: Obama's Kenyan birth, Muslim faith, plans to confiscate all guns and to take private property into government control via armies of UN soldiers or Martians or something, are just a few a few of the stories being promulgated in the elite Right Wing Media: in print, on Fox Noise, and, especially, I think, on Hate Radio (66.6 on your AM and FM dial--and the fillings in your teeth, and the receivers they implant in your brains, and other silly stuff I'm making up). But why are so many otherwise smart and decent people so eager to believe such rot?
Turns out it's biological. Recent studies discussed in a number of places (the two I consulted were Psychology Today and the blog Live Science), cited experiments that show that, when shown photos of positive things (cute little bunnies, beautiful sunsets, marijuana [I made that one up]), or negative and gross things (car crashes, maggot-infested wounds, Ted Nugent [I made that one, up, too, but...] ), conservatives spent more time looking at, and were more affected by, the negative images, while liberals were drawn to the positive stuff. The upshot, I guess, is that we may really not have a choice in how we think, politically: we're just wired (or, for conservatives, weird--wouldn't resist that) in that way. Verrrry eenterresting....
Story songs, then, this week. This post title, f'rinstance, comes from a Dan Fogelberg song, as will the coda, which is coming up soon, honest. Tuesday, noon till two, 100.1 FM, wwww.wool.fm on the webs. And don't forget on Sept. 15, the final in the DothWool series at 33 Bridge St. in Bellows Falls, three bands for 5 bucks and a really cool bartender, unless I show up instead.
...and they just ain't true."
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
From Out of the Sun...
I keep coming back to Yeats, and The Second Coming: "The best lack all conviction/While the worst are filled with a passionate intensity...". Of course "best " and "worst" depend on where you stand--my "best" may be your "worst," and vice versa. I see what I'm doing in these posts as an attempt to keep my best passionately intense; others just see my posts as angry, ranting polemics. What to do, what to do?--it's the liberal dilemma.
Now that Isaac has safely blown past Fla., Mitt Romney tonight will realize his long-held dream and officially receive the Republican nomination to become The POTUS (that always sounds somehow vaguely dirty to me). While--shocking revelation coming up--I've lately found myself becoming more receptive to spirituality in some form, organized religion still makes me squirm, as I think that far more bad than good has come from it over the centuries. And while pretty much all religions have weird origination stories, it sure seems that Mormonism is front and center in the weirdness department. Angels in America (Tony Kushner took his title at least partly from the Mormon story); golden tablets buried in upstate New York which an angel named Moroni (a feeble-minded Italian, evidently) led Joseph Smith to; angelic writing on said tablets which only Smith was able to decipher; and the disappearance of those tablets before anyone else saw them. Oh yeah--and the revelation that the ancestors of Native Americans were the Lost Tribes of Israel (of which Isaac was one of the three patriarchs; cue spooky sound effects) who Somehow found their way to these shores in pre-history; and, finally for this rendering, a visit to America by Jesus, sometime between the Resurrection and the Ascension, which apparently no one else knew about. Or maybe the media were just kinder back then and didn't want to get all up in his grill about what he was doing and where he was going. Why couldn't they have done the same for Mark Sanford and John Edwards and on and on?
So we're gonna entrust our country to a guy, all of his other strengths and faults aside, who can give credence to that story. There's probably something to be said for unquestioning belief, but sheesh! Then again, I guess when the only alternative is a Kenyan-born Muslim intellectual who's going to use UN troops to take our guns and land, even that choice looks reasonable. Anyway, in honor of Moroni and all of the other angels in America, merrily dancing on pinheads, I'm playing a show of "Angel" songs, of which there are an enormous number in my collection. Hope you can join me today, noon till two on 100.1 FM or www.wool.fm on the webs.
Wonder what Pat Robertson and his ilk would have said if a hurricane had forced postponement of the Democrats' convention?
...come Angels with guns."
Now that Isaac has safely blown past Fla., Mitt Romney tonight will realize his long-held dream and officially receive the Republican nomination to become The POTUS (that always sounds somehow vaguely dirty to me). While--shocking revelation coming up--I've lately found myself becoming more receptive to spirituality in some form, organized religion still makes me squirm, as I think that far more bad than good has come from it over the centuries. And while pretty much all religions have weird origination stories, it sure seems that Mormonism is front and center in the weirdness department. Angels in America (Tony Kushner took his title at least partly from the Mormon story); golden tablets buried in upstate New York which an angel named Moroni (a feeble-minded Italian, evidently) led Joseph Smith to; angelic writing on said tablets which only Smith was able to decipher; and the disappearance of those tablets before anyone else saw them. Oh yeah--and the revelation that the ancestors of Native Americans were the Lost Tribes of Israel (of which Isaac was one of the three patriarchs; cue spooky sound effects) who Somehow found their way to these shores in pre-history; and, finally for this rendering, a visit to America by Jesus, sometime between the Resurrection and the Ascension, which apparently no one else knew about. Or maybe the media were just kinder back then and didn't want to get all up in his grill about what he was doing and where he was going. Why couldn't they have done the same for Mark Sanford and John Edwards and on and on?
So we're gonna entrust our country to a guy, all of his other strengths and faults aside, who can give credence to that story. There's probably something to be said for unquestioning belief, but sheesh! Then again, I guess when the only alternative is a Kenyan-born Muslim intellectual who's going to use UN troops to take our guns and land, even that choice looks reasonable. Anyway, in honor of Moroni and all of the other angels in America, merrily dancing on pinheads, I'm playing a show of "Angel" songs, of which there are an enormous number in my collection. Hope you can join me today, noon till two on 100.1 FM or www.wool.fm on the webs.
Wonder what Pat Robertson and his ilk would have said if a hurricane had forced postponement of the Democrats' convention?
...come Angels with guns."
Monday, August 20, 2012
"America, Where Are You Now...?
So yeah, it's another week, and thus nominally the self-appointed time for a nearly 60 year old pretty privileged and insular white guy in the wilds of New Hampshire to fulminate against the evils and fucked-upednesses he sees in the world, and, apparently this week, to do so in the third person. But really, it's all just "blah, blah, blah" or "obla-di, obla-da," isn't it? To wit:
115 degree rain fell in the Mojave Desert this week. Hot tubs are kept at around 104 F. It was the hottest July in recorded human history. Even The Wall Street Journal is suggesting that it might be time to start taking this shit seriously. Repug Govs. Chris Christie of NJ and John Kasich of Ohio are also saying the climate is getting "hotter and wilder." Guess they're dead to the Right now, huh?
An African-American couple was prevented from marrying in a mostly-white Baptist church in Crystal Springs, Miss. because they were told by their pastor that the congregation had decided that "no blacks should marry in this church." In 2012. That's one man, one woman; that's a "normal couple" attempting to start a "normal" family, the sacrosanct unit to the Religious Right (which, again, proves that they are neither). Yeah, I think that Jesus said "One man, one woman--except for niggers," right?
Todd Akin, Republican Senatorial candidate from Missouri (the "Show Me" state) and currently a member of the House SCIENCE COMMITTEE said that cases of "legitimate rape" (think about that one for about a nanosecond before your head explodes) don't usually result in pregnancy "because the female body has ways to shut that whole thing down." Yeah, and they can spin their heads 720 degrees on their necks and projectile-spew green bile at will, too. If we didn't need 'em to breed with us--white women, that is--we'd be better off just bein' with other guys, ya know? As the Reverend Haggard said,--oh, never mind. So Akin's in the House, now, and on the science committee (Earth's only 6,000 years old, y'know); at the whim of ignorant voters maybe soon a US Senator.
Paul Ryan, the current golden boy of the Right, Willard's choice for VP, wants to cut taxes on the rich and fruitlessly attempt to balance the budget on the backs of the poor. Again, just the way Jesus spelled it out on those golden tablets he left behind when he visited America. "Mitt gliberty, und justice for some."
Some guy in Nevada, wearing a legal concealed weapon at a movie theater (what's up with guns and theaters anyway, Mrs. Lincoln?) shot himself in the ass as he attempted to adjust his seat.
Why isn't everyone walking around either laughing maniacally or wailing bitterly?
So this week, on my radio show, for no reason whatsoever, songs with women's names in the title. I'm serious. Why the hell not? I'm going alphabetically through the alphabet (not really a redundancy). It can be fun, although, admittedly, "U" and "X" are one-shot deals, and sketchy at best even then. Tuesday, noon till two on 100.1 FM, www.wool.fm on the webs.
"Why did you leave, America?"
115 degree rain fell in the Mojave Desert this week. Hot tubs are kept at around 104 F. It was the hottest July in recorded human history. Even The Wall Street Journal is suggesting that it might be time to start taking this shit seriously. Repug Govs. Chris Christie of NJ and John Kasich of Ohio are also saying the climate is getting "hotter and wilder." Guess they're dead to the Right now, huh?
An African-American couple was prevented from marrying in a mostly-white Baptist church in Crystal Springs, Miss. because they were told by their pastor that the congregation had decided that "no blacks should marry in this church." In 2012. That's one man, one woman; that's a "normal couple" attempting to start a "normal" family, the sacrosanct unit to the Religious Right (which, again, proves that they are neither). Yeah, I think that Jesus said "One man, one woman--except for niggers," right?
Todd Akin, Republican Senatorial candidate from Missouri (the "Show Me" state) and currently a member of the House SCIENCE COMMITTEE said that cases of "legitimate rape" (think about that one for about a nanosecond before your head explodes) don't usually result in pregnancy "because the female body has ways to shut that whole thing down." Yeah, and they can spin their heads 720 degrees on their necks and projectile-spew green bile at will, too. If we didn't need 'em to breed with us--white women, that is--we'd be better off just bein' with other guys, ya know? As the Reverend Haggard said,--oh, never mind. So Akin's in the House, now, and on the science committee (Earth's only 6,000 years old, y'know); at the whim of ignorant voters maybe soon a US Senator.
Paul Ryan, the current golden boy of the Right, Willard's choice for VP, wants to cut taxes on the rich and fruitlessly attempt to balance the budget on the backs of the poor. Again, just the way Jesus spelled it out on those golden tablets he left behind when he visited America. "Mitt gliberty, und justice for some."
Some guy in Nevada, wearing a legal concealed weapon at a movie theater (what's up with guns and theaters anyway, Mrs. Lincoln?) shot himself in the ass as he attempted to adjust his seat.
Why isn't everyone walking around either laughing maniacally or wailing bitterly?
So this week, on my radio show, for no reason whatsoever, songs with women's names in the title. I'm serious. Why the hell not? I'm going alphabetically through the alphabet (not really a redundancy). It can be fun, although, admittedly, "U" and "X" are one-shot deals, and sketchy at best even then. Tuesday, noon till two on 100.1 FM, www.wool.fm on the webs.
"Why did you leave, America?"
Monday, August 13, 2012
"...The Disappear(ed) Railroad Blues."
I-86 in New York state, the so-called "Southern Tier Expressway" is our favorite route to Chautauqua, much nicer and more scenic than I-88, which cuts across the middle of the state making a beeline to Buffalo(!). And while it's a nicer drive, it's still a helluva long time to be steering a car and basically staring at the macadam in front of you while the fortunate few passengers get to find other things to look at and ways to amuse themselves.
About an hour east of Jamestown sits the Seneca reservation, replete with the now de rigueur (for our displaced indigenous peoples) casino. In addition to the casino, three things about the Rez stand out for me. One is the fact that many of the highway signs are in both English and, one assumes, Senecan, or some tribal language, at any rate. That's pretty cool to see. The second thing is that the 20 or so miles you spend on the interstate driving through the Rez are probably the worst-maintained miles I've ever driven on our interstate system, and have been unchanged and unimproved in the dozen or so years we've been driving that way. Sure seems like we're still stickin' it to those savages.
The third thing, the most amazing thing to me, is a sign at one of the exits proclaiming the points of interest to be found there. The top of the sign promotes a railroad museum, the bottom advertises the Seneca/Iroquois museum. Don't know if they're at the same location, but, top billing aside, wouldn't it seem that the only two possible exhibits that could be more offensive to Native Americans than a railroad museum are, perhaps, a tall-ships celebration or a smallpox-blanket diorama? It's pretty hard for me to think of anything that contributed more to the demise of the native population here than the Iron Horse. Really? Both museums together? Yikes!
Genocide aside (and we've done a damn good job of keeping it at least aside, if not totally hidden, haven't we?), the railroad system is arguably humans' greatest transportation achievement. For moving the most goods and people most efficiently, it can't be beat. And, if we'd advanced the technology involved rather than dismantling the whole system, it would almost certainly be the greenest form of transport, too.
Conversely, the interstate highway system, President Eisenhower's baby, of course, is arguably--or maybe it's not even arguable--the most inefficient, wasteful and environmentally-destructive system ever devised. It's possible that it's the single biggest contributor to the horrible change humans have wrought to our very planet. Yep, Ike had one brilliant and fabulous idea, a warning, actually, to beware the Military-Industrial Complex and the havoc it could wreak morally, financially and psychologically to our country and the world, an idea we have emphatically ignored and rejected. And he had one horrible and horribly destructive idea, the interstate highway system, which we have embraced wholeheartedly. Yay, us.
The long drives I've taken in the last few weeks have made me long to be on a train, staring out at the scenery whizzing by, lulled by the "clack, clack, clack" of steel-on-steel, partaking of a much more enjoyable journey. That, coupled with the fact that Bellows Falls and North Walpole, where I spent my formative years (dasn't say "grew up," as there are too many who would dispute that) were railroad towns has made me nostalgic. Amtrak still runs right under the square in BF; if you're sitting on the deck at Popolo at the right time, you can watch it run right beneath the restaurant, whose beer and soda lines were laboriously fished over the top of the tunnel. And, as some of you who have listened to my show have heard, the Montrealer blows its horn as it heads into that tunnel at around noon every day.
So I'm honoring all of that this week with "train" and "railroad" songs; I'm sure that with only a few minutes' rather cursory thought you too can come up with a very long list of songs on topic. I hope you can tune in tomorrow from noon till 2 (ish)--I have a lot of 'em--to hear my list. 100.1 FM, www.wool.fm on the webs.
And, although none of you were in attendance, I'm sure you'll be excited to know that our Block Party on Saturday night (held in part of the old train yard, as a matter of fact) raised enough to pay our bills for the next 3 months. You should still become members, though, if you haven't yet. We wicked deserve it.
About an hour east of Jamestown sits the Seneca reservation, replete with the now de rigueur (for our displaced indigenous peoples) casino. In addition to the casino, three things about the Rez stand out for me. One is the fact that many of the highway signs are in both English and, one assumes, Senecan, or some tribal language, at any rate. That's pretty cool to see. The second thing is that the 20 or so miles you spend on the interstate driving through the Rez are probably the worst-maintained miles I've ever driven on our interstate system, and have been unchanged and unimproved in the dozen or so years we've been driving that way. Sure seems like we're still stickin' it to those savages.
The third thing, the most amazing thing to me, is a sign at one of the exits proclaiming the points of interest to be found there. The top of the sign promotes a railroad museum, the bottom advertises the Seneca/Iroquois museum. Don't know if they're at the same location, but, top billing aside, wouldn't it seem that the only two possible exhibits that could be more offensive to Native Americans than a railroad museum are, perhaps, a tall-ships celebration or a smallpox-blanket diorama? It's pretty hard for me to think of anything that contributed more to the demise of the native population here than the Iron Horse. Really? Both museums together? Yikes!
Genocide aside (and we've done a damn good job of keeping it at least aside, if not totally hidden, haven't we?), the railroad system is arguably humans' greatest transportation achievement. For moving the most goods and people most efficiently, it can't be beat. And, if we'd advanced the technology involved rather than dismantling the whole system, it would almost certainly be the greenest form of transport, too.
Conversely, the interstate highway system, President Eisenhower's baby, of course, is arguably--or maybe it's not even arguable--the most inefficient, wasteful and environmentally-destructive system ever devised. It's possible that it's the single biggest contributor to the horrible change humans have wrought to our very planet. Yep, Ike had one brilliant and fabulous idea, a warning, actually, to beware the Military-Industrial Complex and the havoc it could wreak morally, financially and psychologically to our country and the world, an idea we have emphatically ignored and rejected. And he had one horrible and horribly destructive idea, the interstate highway system, which we have embraced wholeheartedly. Yay, us.
The long drives I've taken in the last few weeks have made me long to be on a train, staring out at the scenery whizzing by, lulled by the "clack, clack, clack" of steel-on-steel, partaking of a much more enjoyable journey. That, coupled with the fact that Bellows Falls and North Walpole, where I spent my formative years (dasn't say "grew up," as there are too many who would dispute that) were railroad towns has made me nostalgic. Amtrak still runs right under the square in BF; if you're sitting on the deck at Popolo at the right time, you can watch it run right beneath the restaurant, whose beer and soda lines were laboriously fished over the top of the tunnel. And, as some of you who have listened to my show have heard, the Montrealer blows its horn as it heads into that tunnel at around noon every day.
So I'm honoring all of that this week with "train" and "railroad" songs; I'm sure that with only a few minutes' rather cursory thought you too can come up with a very long list of songs on topic. I hope you can tune in tomorrow from noon till 2 (ish)--I have a lot of 'em--to hear my list. 100.1 FM, www.wool.fm on the webs.
And, although none of you were in attendance, I'm sure you'll be excited to know that our Block Party on Saturday night (held in part of the old train yard, as a matter of fact) raised enough to pay our bills for the next 3 months. You should still become members, though, if you haven't yet. We wicked deserve it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)