Category Archives: Current Events

I Know Why The Caged Bird Curls Into a Fetal Position & Screams

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That sinking feeling hasn’t left. You know the one I’m talking about…the one so many of us experienced on November 8th, 2016 when we realized that Donald Trump was actually going to become our next president. Our hearts literally sank, weighed down by dread and despair. We didn’t know what to do other than hold our hands over our mouths in shocked horror as we watched stunned newscasters report his victory in quavering voices that reminded me of the moment Walter Cronkite notified a nation that John F. Kennedy had died. I’m sure all 63,000,000 of us texted some variant of “OMG WTF?!?” to our dearest friends. Once I realized his lead in the Rust Belt states was insurmountable, I think I quietly turned off the television and crawled into bed. A few hours later I woke up and the tears came. Hot, streaming tears from a well of complex sorrow. I cried for my country, for the globe, for all the people who would be hurt by his presidency. I cried for democracy. I cried for my own foolish, ideological heart. I couldn’t seem to stop crying. The next day, I tweeted this:

 

Sob quietly at night, face the day with clear eyes and your head held high, I always say.

Here we are, ten months later and the sinking feeling hasn’t left.

The world has turned upside down and I don’t know how to orientate myself to the new axis on which we now find ourselves spinning.

Wrong Week To Quit Sniffing Glue

I have said this to myself every week for the past ten months.

 

This election, it was more than a shifting of power from one political party to another. This was a deeply transformative moment in American history. This wasn’t just about the next four years, although whether or not we will survive the next four years is now a serious question we are all considering. This was about global leadership being supplanted by incompetence on a global scale. This was about democracy being subsumed by autocracy. This was about America’s very identity being altered.

Identity. Who knew it was so critically important?

 

Faceless Man

“Who are you? Are you America?” “I am no one.” “Are you SURE you’re not America?” “Pretty sure.”

 

Of course, America has never been homogeneous. We have always been a teeming, writhing coil of tensions and contradictions. Slave owners battled fiery abolitionists. Free market capitalists still battle socialist labor leaders. Civil rights leaders fight white supremacists. Conservative vs. Liberal. Our identity has never exactly been one thing. But, from the moment Thomas Jefferson penned “all men are created equal,” we’ve been guided by aspirational values that have led us down the path of history in search of a more perfect union.

We’ve always known we weren’t perfect. But we’ve diligently striven to be better. That’s what being an American has always meant to me. And now that’s shot to hell and I don’t know how to recover. The sadness overwhelms me. The grief I am experiencing keeps rolling over me in waves.

All I am is an American.

I don’t belong to a religious sect. I am not close with my family. I do not have children. I am not surrounded by friends with common interests. I don’t even really have a sports team I identify deeply with other than the New England Patriots and honestly I only enjoy watching them because of Tom Brady, and he’s 40 years old. Once he retires I will probably stop watching football altogether as it is violent and dangerous and corrupt and <weeping> Tommy don’t leave me!

Tom-Brady

All that’s standing between me and the yawning abyss of meaninglessness. (And no, the irony of him being a “good friend” of Donald Trump does not escape me. Because of course he is. <sob>)

 

 

All I have is my Americanism. The mythology of the American Dream. The can-do spirit. The belief that we know the difference between Good and Evil, and we stand on the side of Good. Our pervasive pop culture. The way our country embraces foreigners, folds them into our experiment and emerges stronger for having them with us. All of it.

I never knew how much I identified as an American until Donald Trump came along and metaphorically threw acid into the face of the Statue of Liberty. His utter contempt for everything that America represents and everything she aspires to be is not just shocking. It is a stiletto knife whipped so quickly against my throat that all I can do is stand helplessly gurgling, uncertain of what just happened until the blood starts pouring out.

Of course, the depression in which I am enveloped comes not just from Donald Trump; Donald Trump is such a vile, repugnant, slimy excuse for a man that if life were fair, sprinkling him with salt would kill him. Donald Trump isn’t the depressing problem. I know what he is. He is so arrogant that he doesn’t even bother trying to hide what he is. What is depressing is that 60,000,000 Americans support him. What I am having a hard time reconciling is that people I know support him. He is destroying America from the inside and people I thought I knew laugh and clap and pump their fists and chant “U-S-A! U-S-A!”

It’s like watching someone you thought was sensible and reasoned excitedly give a gas canister and a book of matches to the town arsonist then giddily watch as he burns down their house. “This is gonna be great!” your friend says, elbowing you in your ribs. “Whoooooooo! Look at it burn!” And you stand there, dumbfounded at how dense they are until eventually they do a double-take and yell, “My children are in there! And everything I own! And, hey, where am I supposed to live now?!”

Yeah, dumbshit, I tried to tell you but you were too busy chanting “Lock her up!” to hear me.

 

I always knew that a segment of the American population was, for lack of a better word, stupid. I knew we had more than our fair share of climate deniers, of people who really do believe that the earth was created 6,000 years ago, that Taylor Swift is a really good singer. In the run-up to the election, though, I refused to believe that the majority of Americans were stupid enough to hand the gas canister to the town arsonist. I was wrong. (Yes, yes, three million more people voted for Hillary, I know.)

Donald Trump is destroying my vision of America, my identity as an American, and 60,000,000 of my closest (and whitest) neighbors gave him the means to do it. How can that not depress the hell out of me?

I vacillate between white hot rage and depression. I chuckle darkly when I remember that, a mere eight years ago, I thought George W. Bush was the worst president I was ever going to see in my lifetime. I think about food. A lot. Stress eating doesn’t even begin to describe what I’ve been doing. It’s as if I eat to create a physical sense of discomfort and pain that mirrors my emotional state. My favorite time of day is when I’m sleeping.

Every day I learn of yet another effort by Donald Trump to deliberately, methodically destroy Barack Obama’s legacy. His Secretary of Education is going to re-evaluate how the federal government deals with sexual assaults on college campuses. I mean, seriously, give me a break. He is literally going to work harder to protect rapists. Which, considering how violently he is fucking America over is just perfect, but still.

And his supporters cheer. He’s doing what he said he was going to do, they say.

He has terrified immigrants. He has worried refugees so much that hundreds of them are now fleeing America, seeking asylum in Canada. He has lessened our reputation around the world. He has proven himself completely incapable of absorbing information. He doesn’t like anyone in government unless their name rhymes with Mutin. He is willfully working to destroy a healthcare system that will result in the deaths of Americans. He is cavalierly inching the world towards a nuclear war. The list is horrifying and seemingly endless.

We believe in him, they say.

And all of this is following eight of the smoothest years of presidential politics in history. But Barack Obama was black and Hillary Clinton was a woman, so what they accomplished must be scorned and destroyed.

But don’t you dare call a Trump supporter sexist or racist.

My America strives to be more inclusive. She isn’t afraid of the world. She wants to partner with her allies and remain strong against her foes. My America wants to improve the lives of her citizens. She wants to slow the destructive, racist policies of mass incarceration that have devastated communities of color for the past forty years. My America wants to become less fearful of marijuana, and more empathetic towards drug addicts in general. My America would like her police forces to stop murdering her citizens in the street. My America welcomes all faiths to her shores. My America enthusiastically embraces science and spurs innovation in the fields of the future such as clean energy and robotics. My America wants her pregnant citizens to be able to make reproductive choices with their doctors without fear of reprisals. My America wants minorities of all stripes to be able to live without fear.

But now Donald Trump has his hands on my America.

 

I would be able to relax if I somehow knew how it was all going to turn out. If I had the power to zip three years into the future and come back. “He doesn’t launch a nuclear war with North Korea and China and Russia! And he doesn’t get re-elected!” If I knew for sure that we were going to be okay, I might be able to make a 20 pack box of Ring Dings last longer than three days. If I knew with absolute conviction that he and his white nationalist minions weren’t going to transform America into some apartheid-era South African/isolationist North Korean hybrid, I might be able to laugh again. Not knowing is the most depressing aspect of all of this.

I don’t want to withdraw from the wider world. I don’t want to tune out all the pain. I want to face it head on, be a witness to it, be a sober-eyed realist in the face of stark madness. It’s just that it’s really, really difficult.

Rosanne Cash, play us out.

 

 

 

 

America’s Trump Card

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Donald TrumpFor those who are not aware, the United States of America is less than nine months away from electing the president that will succeed Barack Obama in office. And while it is too early in the process to say definitively, by all appearances it looks as though the Republicans are going to choose The Donald as their candidate to stand against the Democratic Party’s choice, which in all likelihood will be Hillary Clinton.

I am simply an anonymous liberal American armed with a blog. I dropped out of college over 25 years ago. I have never made more than $40,000 a year. I am not a respected member of my community. Statistically, it is more likely that my body will go undiscovered for weeks when I die than it is that I will ever buy a new car. It goes without saying that I am overweight. I am, in a word, inconsequential. And fat.

Which means of course, using the up-is-down, black-is-white logic that currently grips fervent Republican primary voters, that there is no one more perfectly qualified to proffer up sage, thought-provoking opinions of one Donald J. Trump than I.

Without further ado, let me begin.

<In a scene reminiscent of Robert Durst in The Jinx, I take my blog with me to the bathroom, forgetting that my “mic” is still on. Under my breath, I can be heard saying>

What the fucking fuck, America? Who decided it was a good idea to let you morons vote?

<Emerging from the facilities after delicately washing my hands, I proceed with my stately analysis of the Trump presidential bid, unaware that my interior thoughts have been captured in print>

We’ve been through this before, people. You must remember, of course. Sixteen years ago, long before social media brought us disturbingly close to other people’s political opinions and conspiracy theories, some of us worried about another dipshit Republican candidate. His name was George Bush. People lovingly referred to him as “Dubya,” Perhaps you remember him. Some of us naysayers and, yes I confess I was one, worried that he wasn’t up for the job, that he wasn’t capable of deep intellectual thought, and we fretted about what would happen were he to actually win the election. We feared the worst, although you didn’t know that, as most of us didn’t have blogs at the time. Thankfully though, after his election, Dubya led America through eight years of unprecedented prosperity and peace, and all of us naysayers were proven wrong. Then some Kenyan name Barack Hussein Obama was elected and ruined America by creating Obamacare. (I may have some of details mixed up, but you get the gist. Nothing bad happens when you elect an blowhard. Lesson learned, America. Good job.)

I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about Donald Trump. You may think I am exaggerating, but I assure you that in my free time, when I am not binge-watching something on Netflix or wondering if the DiGiorno pizza I put in the oven is done, I am thinking about this Donald Trump phenomenon. (I call it a “phenomenon” only because it’s surprising to see a rude, fat, white man with orange cotton candy for hair bully his way into the American consciousness. The hatred and anger that he articulates is not phenomenal.)

The angry white voter is hardly new. Why is America acting like this is a new thing? Seriously. Angry white voters were so common back in the 1850s that when a congressman almost beat a senator to death in the Capitol building using a cane, hundreds of them sent him replacement canes for the one he broke in the assault. I mean, say what you will about people applauding when Donald Trump says he wants to punch somebody in the face, but the applause seems quaint in comparison. I am not going to trace the history of the angry white voter for you tonight, but please realize that it has always been with us.

I think people are disturbed this election cycle because Donald Trump has smashed the veneer of respectability our presidential races typically have. The voters are supposed to be rabid and furious, not the nominees. Politicians have exploited people’s fears for generations…but it’s been done obliquely. Subtly. In code. Ronald Reagan, for example, didn’t come right out and say he hated black people, he simply announced his presidential campaign in the town of Philadelphia, Mississippi. That’s a strange out of the way place to hold such an important event, until you remember that Philadelphia, Mississippi was where three civil rights workers were murdered. That’s the way presidential politics is supposed to be run in America: smooth and on the down low. Donald Trump blows that subtlety to smithereens. Mexicans are rapists and all Muslims will be banned from entering the country. Oh, and he is going to take a serious look at banning same-sex marriage, too. He’s going to kick ass and take names because he’s mad as hell and he isn’t going to take it anymore. And people are lapping this shit up. This billionaire prick who calls getting a million dollars from his daddy a “little” loan has people convinced that he’s Howard Beale speaking truth to power.

American leaders aren’t supposed to been seen deliberately stoking the fires of unrest. America has always been hyper-vigilant about mob violence. Undoubtedly the roots of that fear can be traced back to our slave-holding ancestors. The question is whether or not it is healthy for the country to experience this anger so openly during a political season. I mean sure, four years after Preston Brooks beat the shit out of Charles Sumner in Congress in 1856, America found itself embroiled in a Civil War, but I’m sure that was just a coincidence. I am sure that openly expressing hostility and rage while refusing to calm down or accept rational responses in return is perfectly healthy in a democracy. It’s just a healthy exercise of our first amendment rights.

I’m sure we have nothing to worry about.

 

 

 

 

Pissing Ourselves With Fear

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Hello.

I realize that I haven’t written anything in awhile but, surprisingly, I fell in love last year with an old flame, so I have been concentrating on that relationship while trying to figure out how to write about my personal life without infringing on the privacy of my (cue Barry White music) special lady friend.  That is not easy to do. (Full disclosure: I will not be writing about my relationship tonight.) Also, because of said relationship I have given up drinking and, I don’t know about you, but between me and my buddy F. Scott, it is really hard to write without celebrating with a wee nip of the tainted rosewater. So there’s that. (That’s right: I can’t write sober. I mean, I can’t write drunk either, but after a few drinks, I can’t tell.) Also, toss in the fact that I am an uneducated peasant working for a mere ten dollars an hour and no benefits and it is a wonder I think I have the right to express myself on the internet at all. In another time, the only permissible form of expression allowed my kind would be to stare plaintively at the person holding the ladle whilst raising my porridge bowl and saying “More, please.” And then I would sing rollicking songs with Albert Finney.

But then I ran the water in my kitchen sink tonight, which almost made me pee my pants, so I knew I just had to find time to write a quick essay about the Syrian refugee crisis.

First of all, for those of us who have been playing Fallout 4 non-stop for the past week and have missed the news, or for those of us reading this essay well into the future, long after the shock of recent events has subsided, there was a heavily coordinated terror attack in the city of Paris last Friday. Teams of suicide bombers and suicidal fighters fanned out throughout the city with explosive vests and automatic weapons, and they proceeded to kill and injure hundreds of people. It was a horrific tragedy carried out, as best as has been discerned so far, by EU nationals. Most of the terrorists were either French or Belgian citizens.

Before the dead had even been buried, American politicians of all variety of red stripes went out in public to proudly proclaim that Syrian refugees are not welcome in their particular state. Some wrote letters to President Obama, telling him so. Some even set up Facebook pages. (“Like” & “Share” if you agree with Governor Pat McCrory’s decision to “keep North Carolina safe!”)

I just gotta say: Congratulations, America, for once again making it All About You. Hats off to you there, as Eddie Izzard would say. Well done. Sure, the killings took place 3,600 miles from our shores but, I get it: it COULD have happened here. And, of course, it also must be pointed out that the killers in this act of war were not Syrian refugees. They were French and Belgian. But way to stand tough against ravaged families desperately searching for a safe place to call home! Listen to you all speak is like watching a barefooted John McClain save the hostages in Nakatomi Plaza all over again! All they want is a place to rest their weary heads so that they can attempt to rebuild their lives after suffering years of war and strife the likes of which we will never understand here on these shores. I hope you’re proud of yourself, America. You have turned Lady Liberty’s guiding beacon of hope into a giant middle finger, making a mockery of all that you stand for in the process. It must feel great, being that protective of your people. You ARE the leaders that we deserve.

You know, I understand the desire to hunker down in a defensive posture. I am sure that we all do. It’s human nature, after a tragedy, to pull your loved ones closer and be more vigilant. I remember watching that second plane fourteen years ago, and I remember how cold my blood turned, knowing only that we were under attack and little else. But this is not 9/11, and the people looking for a safe place in our country are not Mohammad Atta. I would expect our political leaders to be able to distinguish the difference. And that would be my first mistake. “You Can’t Spell Xenophobia Without NO!” should be the GOP’s campaign slogan for 2016.

Which brings me back to tonight.

I didn’t realize that my bladder was full when I turned the sink on. All I wanted to do was run the water on a vacuum-sealed salmon filet to defrost it, so that my special lady friend and I could have us some dinner. In an instant, though, I went from planning dinner to fighting the urge to piss down my leg! “This is probably what fear of Syrian refugees feels like to right-wing citizens,” I thought, as I danced from leg to leg. The urge to pee came out of nowhere and it dominated my thinking–easing that discomfort became the primary goal of my night. I imagine the fear of refugees struck conservative Americans out of the blue, too.

Dinner became a secondary concern much as, in this scenario, openness and compassion towards refugees became secondary concerns for Republicans. All I wanted to do was tend to the biological reaction. But, I fought against the urge. I took a deep breath, clenched parts of myself that a minute early I was fairly convinced were years beyond a good clenching, and forced myself to relax. I finished what I needed to do in the kitchen and then calmly removed myself to a more porcelain-centric portion of the home. What I did NOT do was pee all over myself, even though I had the intense urge to do so. “And that’s the difference between right-wing and left-wing people,” I concluded. “Also, I need to buy more toilet paper.”

Having the urge to react fearfully to refugees when a terror attack like this occurs is just as instinctual as the need to pee is when you turn on the water. But in both instances, human beings should be able to control themselves and their primal urges, and resolve the situation calmly and rationally with no muss and no fuss. Governors and politicians who stand against refugees may feel like they are relieving themselves from an imminent crisis but in reality all they are really doing is pissing down their own leg.

Thanks for listening.

The State of The Music Business Is…*Buffering* *Buffering*

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According to David Byrne, the music business is in real long-term trouble. According to Taylor Swift, everything is awesome! David Byrne was born in 1952. Taylor Swift was manufactured in a secret underground lab, stitched together using castaway parts of rejected Nickelodeon/Disney Channel child stars, in 1989.* Your own age probably is the best indicator of which argument you agree with: I suspect the older generations see a bleak future for a business in its death knells, incapable of sustaining its business model as low-revenue streaming sites increase in popularity; meanwhile, I suspect the younger generations see an exciting future for music centered around the unlimited potential of the internet. Then again, since most of you have children and dogs and loving spouses and stressful jobs to focus on, maybe you haven’t given any thought whatsoever to the state of the music business. Maybe I’m all alone on this one. Because all I have are cats. And cats, as you know, are surprisingly low maintenance. Not having to take them outside to poop, to school or soccer practice, or give them obligatory blowjobs twice a month, (unless they’ve been very good about not vomiting on the carpet, which never happens), has given me an enormous amount of free time to think about the state of the music business on my own terms. If you would indulge me– although I’m no Taylor Swift!–I would like to take a brief moment to share what I think about all of this.

I was born in 1969, so I find myself about halfway between David Byrne’s generation and Taylor Swift’s, which is interesting, as I agree with parts of both of their arguments. (If you tell anyone I agree with Taylor Swift I will cut you.)

Please bear in mind that I am approaching this subject purely as a consumer. I am not a musician, I cannot sing, and the idea of writing poetry fills me with dread. In my early 20s, after a stint in the Navy, I briefly considered pursuing a career in radio or as a wedding deejay…but I quickly abandoned those dreams, as I saw that radio was a sleazy business, and there was no money to be made in deejaying gigs. If you would like to see a brief overview of my musical consumerism over the years, I have footnoted it at the end of this post.†

I absolutely agree that, with the increasing popularity of smartphones and streaming services, the music business is changing, and changing in dramatic, unsettling ways that will devastate some. But I do not think that the music industry itself will be destroyed. That is unfathomable to me. You might as well worry about destroying laughter or driving love into extinction simply by outlawing Valentine’s Day. It cannot be done. Music is the human condition. Music cannot be destroyed. It will always be created. The question at hand, the question that worries David Byrne is “Will people still be able to make a living at it?” And, to be honest, questions like that that kind of make me angry.

Let’s chat about that anger for a little bit, shall we?

I think we can all agree that artists of all types live in a strange economic universe. Take me, the non-artist, as a counter example. I am a payroll specialist by trade. That is how I makes my money. To paraphrase Dustin Hoffman, I’m an excellent payroll specialist. I am not the best in my field, but I’m fairly competent. I am professional and efficient and oh my God I am putting myself to sleep just typing this bullshit who gives a fuck I mean really. I make less than $50,000 a year. (I actually make a lot less than $50,000 a year, I’m just rounding up to be vague, as well as to give you the impression that I make $50,000 a year, which I don’t.) Even if I am the best payroll specialist in North Carolina, I am never going to make more than that. I am trapped, so to speak, by the economic limitations of my profession. I am also living the staid, corporate 9 to 5 existence…the one musicians mock as being soul-destroying. (If I had a soul left, that type of mockery would hurt me.) But, when I look at the other numb, dead-inside payroll specialists that surround me, we’re all in the same economic boat. We all float along trying to survive on–again, this is ballpark–$25,000 to $50,000 a year. Now let’s look at professional musicians.

They don’t really play in the same ballpark with each other at all, do they? Some, if they’re lucky, get $100 a gig. And that’s if they’re lucky. And some get arrested at age 19 for speeding in their Lamborghini. The disparity between a struggling musician and one on top of their profession is incomprehensible.

When did this start? Music, musicians, and singers have been around for as long as civilization has existed. But when did the grotesque, fabulous wealth come into the picture? The first wildly rich musician that comes to mind was Elvis Presley. I’m sure there were others before him, but his are the first examples of excess that pop into my head. Him with his fleet of Cadillacs and stupendous drug habit and posse of leeches and hangers-on. The money flowed through his hands like water. Liberace lived extravagantly as well. So, in my mind, generally speaking, the fifties and sixties were the period when musicians started to gain access to unimaginable wealth. It hasn’t been that long, in other words: less than a lifespan. In my opinion, the David Byrneses of the world, the ones who succeeded in this business when enormous sums of money received for album sales were commonplace, they are the ones that are feeling the most shock from this transitional period in the music industry.

And you know, let’s flip the question. Let’s talk about those at the top. We never ask why it is, exactly, that successful musicians–not necessarily the most talented, mind you, simply the most successful–make so much goddamn money. But I think it’s a question worth asking. Because how can we worry about how the lowest among them are suffering if we cannot question why it is exactly that Justin Bieber owns a goddamn Lamborghini?

What does David Byrne consider to be so low a figure that artists can’t make a living? It would help if I knew. Because a lot of the consumers of the music–the ones who buy the concert tickets, the ones who buy the posters of “Stop Making Sense,” (did I just date myself with that reference or what), the ones who stream the music on their phones–make less then $35,000 a year, and they seem to “make a living.” They “get by.” Of course, some of them are on food stamps and WIC and don’t own cars…but they’re living. Millions of us are struggling in this country, not just artists. When did they forget that? When did it become expected that everyone would struggle except the struggling artist? When did writing/performing a popular song become synonymous with hitting the lottery? When did the valuation of that skyrocket? And is it reasonable to expect that standard to be maintained? I mean, I can’t be the only one disgusted by the very thought of the show Cribs.

Of course, I do not want musicians or songwriters to be exploited. I want them to be treated equitably. I want them to be able to make a living at what they do. But, you know what? That’s pretty much between them and their record labels. And record labels have been infamously fucking musicians over since record labels were created. Artists are creative people. And creative people are notoriously horrible with money. Their lack of understanding of it and failure to appreciate it, (see: Presley, Elvis. see: Hammer, MC. see: Nelson, Willie. see: Ever, Almost Any Musician. Except for maybe Joan Jett & David Bowie. They’ve invested wisely.), is part of the problem. When they’re not snorting their money up their nose, drinking it or injecting it into their veins, they’re assigning shady business managers to be responsible for it. (see: Joel, Billy.)

People are still spending their disposable income on music. But David Byrne has to understand that a)we have a lot less disposable income now that he thinks we have and b)it’s not our fault that your record companies aren’t sharing what we spend with you. We can only do so much. Whining about how you’re hurting isn’t making you too many friends in the $9.00 an hour crowd. Lars Ulrich from Metallica pulled that shit when Napster exploded onto the world ten years ago and I still hate that greedy little shit for it.

Because Taylor Swift is right.**** There is a lot to be excited about in this digital age.

We now have access to every song, musician, and style that we can think of. Sure, wandering through Goody Records or The Music Man or Tower Records or Licorice Pizza back in the day used to be fun…but those brick and mortar stores offered NOTHING in the way of selection the way that the internet does. With YouTube and iTunes, you can sample almost anything at the click of a button. You can discover new bands in ways that you would have never had discovered them before the Internet Age. You’re no longer simply bound to the boring constrictions of formatted, corporate radio. You can make your own playlist, discover your own next best thing, create the soundtrack to your life on your own. As I have said, I’m not an artist, but that has got to be exciting from an artistic perspective. The problem for artists being, of course, that the market is flooded with a million people just like them.

So, yes, I see this as a turbulent period for the music industry. Artists that were used to one type of revenue stream have had their lives completely upended by this new digital world. And I am sure that some of them have seen dramatic shifts in their income. They may have to get out of the business and become music teachers or accountants or truck drivers. But there will be others who will step into their place. Maybe this new set of songwriters will be more open to the idea of touring full-time. (Maybe this new set of songwriters will all be capable of singing their own songs, as making a living simply from songwriting seems to be, according to David Byrne, increasingly impossible to do.) Since they will not be familiar with what it feels like to write a hit song and watch the six-figure royalty checks come floating in, they won’t know what they’re missing. But the creative force is more powerful than how it is monetized.

Rock and roll was never supposed to be about money. When did we forget that? Was it when Steve Winwood sold out? It was supposed to be about rebellion and liberation and telling The Man to fuck off. And I’m pretty sure that people will want to do that regardless of how much money they make doing it.

That being said, of course I want the laws rewritten so that a more equitable share of the revenue from streaming music goes to the artists themselves. I am not happy that the record companies are raking in profits at the expense of their talent. (Fucking corporations, man.) But, again–that is a fight between the artists and their labels. I fully support the artists in that endeavor. But, when they come out publicly bitching about how unfair it is that people are streaming music, how ridiculous it is that people expect to listen to music for free, that is when they lose me. Would David Byrne have bitched when I recorded Burning Down The House off the radio in 1983? Was I stealing music then, as a fourteen year old, listening to my radio-recorded mix tapes? People are no more stealing music now then they were listening to the radio back in the day. The shocking thing, when you think about it, is that people are now subscribing to music streaming services when they used to get it for free.

Maybe the universe is simply realigning in this Digital Age. Maybe all of this is just karmic payback for Peter Frampton having the most popular live album of all time, something that I will never understand. Then again, people were doing a lot of drugs in the 70’s. But, if this realignment results in the show Cribs never being aired again because singers can no longer afford McMansions with infinity pools and pinball machines, I think it’s going to all be worth it.

Pretty much ever since the Internet was invented by Al Gore, people have been bemoaning the demise of a)newspapers; b)the movie industry; c)books; d)music; e)magazines; f)pornography. (Heh, just kidding about that last one. I just wanted to see if you were still paying attention.) They’ve all taken serious hits in one way or another…but they are all still very much alive as industries. They are learning to adapt to the new age. I mean, for example, porn is thriving, at least in my house. And I now subscribe to the New York Times. I never would have subscribed in print form. Christ…the subscription was too expensive. And who has time to read the goddamn New York Times? But I am a subscriber now, in spite of the fact that Maureen Dowd works there.

I really ought to get my money’s worth and find time to do their crossword puzzle.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is David Byrne needs to chill the fuck out. We’re not trying to burn down the house (eh? eh?) of music by streaming music. We’re simply trying to transcend the boundaries of what is possible. Which is exactly what music has been trying to do for centuries.

I expect the next few years to be exciting indeed.

*Allegedly.

† The first album I remember wearing the needle out on my little record player listening to was The Beach Boys’ Endless Summer double album. I was about 8. When I was 13, my mother let my choose a cassette from Columbia Record House. I chose John Cougar’s American Fool. When I was 14, I received a $25 Sears gift certificate, and with it I bought the cassette versions of the Police’s Synchronicity and Lionel Ritchie’s Can’t Slow Down.** And a basketball. And three 90 minute Memorex blank tapes, to record songs off the radio. ($25 dollars used to buy you a lot of shit at Sears, kids. What’s Sears? Oh, I’ll explain that to you later. But they had escalators and used to sell popcorn and bulk candy. The store smelled fantastic.) When I started converting to CDs in 1989, the first three CDs I bought were Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits, Oingo Boingo’s Best of Boingo: Skeletons in the Closet and the Best of Berlin. When I started converting to downloads in 2010, the first album I bought electronically was The Jesus & Mary Chain’s 21 Singles. I had bought a few singles through iTunes by that point, and I needed a copy of their song Sometimes Always for a project I was working on, but the entire album only cost $6.99, so rather than simply buy the single I said fuck it and bought the whole thing. I’ve been buying my albums electronically ever since. With that I hope you can see that, despite the relatively embarrassing choices I made in my youth, music has been an important part of my life for as long as I can remember. (I can tell you I can’t remember anything else that I did when I was 13…but I remember buying music with that gift certificate.***)

**Shut up.

***I may have also gotten my first period that year. To quote Lionel Ritchie, I was not “dancing on the ceiling” over that, of that you can be sure.

****I said shut up.

Scalia Law

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Are you as worried about the future of the country as I am? Are you as angry? Are you as frustrated? Do you feel as helpless or as impotent? Raise your hands. Ooh, that’s quite a lot of you. Now, please lower your hands if you think the solution to this country’s problems lie with the Tea Party, the Libertarian Party, #RandPaul2016, or any similar anti-government offshoot.

Suddenly I am writing to two people.

Well, like my mama always said, when the blogosphere hands you an audience of two, make the most of it by creating a passionate, angry, intellectual three-way. I look forward to your comments, you two.

It’s difficult for me to know where to begin. Of course I am writing today because of the recent Hobby Lobby ruling by the Supreme Court, but that is not the only reason. That decision, for those of you that don’t know, (and if you don’t know, why the fuck haven’t you been paying attention?), states that closely-held corporations have the right to express their sincerely-held religious beliefs when it comes to offering contraception to their employees through their healthcare plans, meaning that they don’t have to offer it. Here are the highlights of Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s dissent. If you don’t want to read them, she basically says–and I’m paraphrasing–“Fuck you if you think this isn’t a huge deal that is going to open a Pandora’s Box of lawsuits. And fuck you if you think access to contraception isn’t a basic necessity of healthcare. And a HUGE fuck you if you think saying that a corporation’s founder’s religious beliefs have more weight than the medical needs of the people he employs is not a huge deal.”

Basically.

The right-wing, naturally, sees this as a victory for freedom-loving Americans everywhere who hate government-overreach, but they fail to persuasively explain whose freedom was being hampered in the first place. As best as I can tell, corporate freedom was being hampered. How right-wing Americans can see this as a victory for actual people escapes me, as I’m sure it escapes them because I seriously doubt they’ve spent more than fifteen seconds thinking about the horrifying ramifications of this ruling.

“The ability of women to participate equally in the economic and social life of the Nation has been facilitated by their ability to control their reproductive lives.”  ~ Sandra Day O’Connor, 1992

I SHOULDN’T EVEN CARE ABOUT THIS ISSUE.

I mean, as a forty-something lesbian who is never going to have to worry about being unexpectedly impregnated, this issue should generate this type of response from me:

Xena Fucks I Give

             You shoulda gone gay.

But see, the thing is, I’m a weird American. I try to support the rights of minorities and the oppressed. I try to live by the ideals so easily promulgated by the Republican Party that they seem incapable of actually supporting. And while I may be a lesbian, a group perhaps considered by some to be separate from real women, I am, at a more fundamental level, a feminist. Which means I support the rights of ALL women.

Even the ones who like penises.

The Republican Party is so fucked up on such a rudimentary basic level that I genuinely do not understand how anyone can support it. I particularly cannot understand how women, African-Americans, or gays can call themselves Republican. Support of the Republican Party, in my eyes, means that you are a deeply flawed individual incapable of seeing the big picture. If you are a Republican, it means that you are either a)a selfishly rich prick who cannot believe that you are being asked to contribute tax money to the country that made you great; or b)a deeply religious white person who cannot believe so many people of color are developing political power in this immigrant nation of ours.

Now that I’ve alienated you, hear me out.

Most of us white people are not rich. If you’re reading this, you’re not rich. If you were rich, your butler would be reading it to you. So, believe me, to quote my overlord Bill Clinton, I feel your pain. You are struggling to get by, just like the rest of us. Some of you couldn’t even afford to buy that second home after the housing market collapsed. Some of you had to put your kid in state school rather than send them to Georgetown or  Duke or Emory. I GET IT. Times are tough.

Some of us white people are literally the working poor. We live paycheck to paycheck. We have no education. We are lucky if we have health insurance. Some of us live at the whims of a corporation that employs most of the people in our town, paying us non-union wages as they pollute our air and water, immune from prosecution because they own our local politicians. In the case of North Carolina’s governor, Pat McCrory, who was employed by Duke Energy for thirty years, they ARE the politicians.

I know you’re struggling. But, believe me, turning to the Republican Party–or the Libertarian Party, for that matter–is NOT the answer. And I have to believe, on some fundamental level, you understand that. You really do.

Other than death, the biggest fear we have is that we will not be able to provide for our families. The fear of not being able to provide for our families propels us to endure jobs that we hate, to work two or three jobs, to travel 1,500 miles across international borders to make money. The workers of America have a genuine fear of being homeless, of losing everything. I get that. And the Republican & Libertarian Parties stoke those fears in you. But they don’t do it because they have your interests at heart. They stoke those fears so that you will be their political clout as they promote a pro-business agenda. Fearing people with different skin color is not the answer. Fearing people who are on welfare is not the answer. And loving Jesus certainly isn’t the answer. Jesus tells you to endure your suffering with grace and humility, as you will be rewarded for it in the afterlife. How is THAT for some shit? The highest power in the universe is telling you to shut up and take it and if you’re good and obedient you’ll get your reward in Heaven? I mean, I’m no expert on slavery but…fuck THAT. You fight for what you and your family need NOW.

The problem, of course, is that the “fight” has been divided between whites and people of color. (When I say “people of color” I am referring to Hindus, Mexicans, Muslims, Blacks…anyone who isn’t considered “Caucasian” these days. I hate calling them “minorities.” I think that word is diminutive and, since they clearly outnumber Caucasians, or soon will, it’s an oxymoron as well.)

White Americans don’t seem to understand the pyramid of capitalism. They don’t seem to understand capitalism, period.

Capitalism, in its purest form, is not designed to make you rich, honey. Oh, no.

Capitalism, in its purest form, wants to exploit you as a worker for the lowest wage it can provide you, with the minimal amount of comfort required, and it wants to spit you out when you become a burden upon it.

It hates unions and any rights that you wish to demand.

In short, capitalism is not your friend.

You should know this, of course, because you should have been taught American and World history. You should know how your great-great-grandparents and great-grandparents and grandparents suffered to make your life better. You should be proud of their struggles. You should admire their fight to unionize workers. You should support unions, because you should know that unions helped shaped the Middle Class that you sorely long for.

Except you don’t know any of it. You don’t appreciate your history. You think unions are trying to destroy America, and you think things like social security are destroying the American dream.

Except when you take your mother to the bank to cash her social security check, you don’t really hate America for it, do you? Of course not. You think she earned it. SHE’S not the one ruining America. It’s all the people of color that are ruining it. Not your mother, or your brother with one leg. They EARNED their checks. Because they’re Americans. And WHITE. It’s everyone else that doesn’t deserve the government handout.

It angers me how you can’t take your situation and apply to it a person of color. It makes me sick how you think “you earned it” while everyone who isn’t white is “milking the system.”

God, I’m so angry at you. I’m so angry at your fear, at your inability to love, at your close-mindedness. And yet you’re the Christian ones! I’m the atheist, the defiled one. How is it that I care more universally for people, despite fears for my own existence, than you do?

Oh, I’m scared to live. Believe me. There are a hundreds of reasons why I shouldn’t be here. I am an open target. To rape. To violence. To being attacked with no one to protect me. I live with fear every day. I refused to drive my car yesterday after I discovered that oil was dripping from it. I mean if that doesn’t scream cowardice, I don’t know what does. Childless, I know that I am going to live without familial love. I know that I am going to die alone. I know that I am going to be forgotten. Atheistic, I know that I am not going to be raised into Heaven, whatever that means.

No, really, what that does mean? What if you HATED someone on earth? But you were married to them for 40 years? But, Jesus, Mother of Christ, you couldn’t stand her.The sound of her voice, her stupid opinions, the way she laughed, her terrible cooking, the sloppy way she gave a blowjob…oh, my God, when she died it was the happiest day of your life…and then YOU die and learn you are going to have to spend ETERNITY with that woman?

And you call that Heaven?

Sigh.

I wish white Americans could realize which side their bread is buttered. It’s not on the side of the Republicans. The Republicans SAY they want to enrich you…but they only say that so you’ll vote for them.

Now, the Democrats since Bill Clinton have sung the same tune…which is revolting. The Democratic Party is as much in the pocket of corporate business as the Republican Party is. Maybe that’s why you are repelled by the Democratic Party. Because you realize what corrupt lackeys they are for the corporate entities you profess to hate. Which is true. But why can’t you see it when it happens in your party?

But the only party that will shift to workers is the Democratic Party. And, believe it or not, despite your grandiose beliefs and your $86,000 a year salary as a policeman, you’re a Democrat. The only reason you think you’re a Republican is because you’re afraid of immigrants and you don’t feel settled. You think you’re supposed to be protected because you’re white and you’re an American, goddammit. Well, goddammit, that’s not how it works! And that ‘s not the Democratic Party’s fault.

You know. I have been struck by the nationalistic beauty of the World Cup this past month. Have you been watching the World Cup? If you’re an American Republican, probably not, as that would mean admitting that other countries exist, that a global sport exists, and they are better at that sport than we are. So, of course, if you’re a Republican, you haven’t been paying attention to it.

You don’t have to be afraid of people, is I think what I’m trying to say.

I know we have this sort of ingrained fear that this man over here is going to take our stuff because he has a unibrow and smells like curry…but that’s not always true.

Republican people–your rights are being attacked by the leaders you have elected into office.

When you voted for that Republican, did you realize that you were going to have to ask whether or not your birth control was covered in their health care plan? Did you realize you would have to ask whether or not they were devout Catholics when you went for the job interview? Did you know that, when trying to get a job, your atheism and need for birth control, would be squared against that corporation’s beliefs? Did you even think a corporation had beliefs? I certainly didn’t. I was pretty sure they had no morals. All they want to do is make money. But, no. They have feelings.

That should scare all of us. Even those that hate government intervention.

Republicans call that “freedom”. The rest of the industrialized world calls that “insane.”

80 percent of women have used birth control in this country. This ruling is not isolated. It doesn’t relate to some abstract minority. It affects all women. Like it or not, we get our healthcare from our employer. Liberals don’t like that–we think that gives too much power to the people that employ us, as well as making our healthcare depend upon employment. Us liberals think that’s stupid. You should be entitled to affordable healthcare whether or not you have a job. But, whatever. Now, though, the Supreme Court says that the place you work at can refuse to cover fairly basic coverage for you. This should scare all women. Please refer to the quote from Sandra Day O’Connor that I referenced above. If you’re too disinterested to scroll up, here it is:

“The ability of women to participate equally in the economic and social life of the Nation has been facilitated by their ability to control their reproductive lives.”  ~ Sandra Day O’Connor, 1992

Having access to affordable birth control doesn’t make a woman a slut. It doesn’t make her hungry for sex. The fact that Republicans would even think that is revolting.

I know some women–Catholic women–that seem proud of this ruling. They seem to think it is the right thing. I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry that their passionate belief in conception is resulting in the further imprisonment of women. But I feel sorry for America as, what, five members of the Supreme Court belong to Opus Dei? Catholics strongly believe in procreation…and that is displayed on today’s Court. Of course, their love of life hasn’t compelled them to stop executions around the nation…but I suppose I should save that for another outrage.

I know I have taken too much of your time. Thank you for staying with me. I just have one more point to make and then you’re outta here.

Women do not rape men to have sex. It is, for the most part, incredibly easy for a woman to find a man to fuck her. MEN desperately want to have sex. They want it so bad that they fuck sheep and horses and cows and dead people and children. They don’t care. They want to fuck. They need to fuck. And somehow they blame all that passion on women. Women like sex well enough, but never enough to fuck a sheep. Or so I’ve learned in my experience.

And yet, this medicine has been invented–in recent years–that gives women the power to let those horny men, who want to fuck anything that moves the power to fuck them, this liberating medicine is being treated as a device on the right to make women feel bad about themselves.

Well Jesus Christ, ladies. You just need to stop it.

You shouldn’t have to live you life like that Dugger woman who spit out 22 children. That should be the exception to the rule. The Opus Dei leaders of this Supreme Court want that to be the rule.

Listen. It’s your vagina. You’re the one putting a penis in it.

Why am I the one that’s angry?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God Damn The Second Amendment

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Heavy, thick raindrops are falling outside my window right now, as if even Mother Nature Herself is trying to passive-aggressively remind me how fat I’ve gotten in the past month. “These drops were smaller in May, Laurie, wouldn’t you agree?” Well, it won’t burn any calories, but I’m going to exercise my mind tonight as I craft this essay. Not that that will satisfy Mother Nature. We all know how bitchy & hard to please she is “I get it!” I yell at the weather. “I’m going to go back to the gym this weekend! Get off my back!” (“I’ll try, but it’ll be hard to miss. Your back, I mean. Because it’s so fat.” I imagine her answering serenely.)

Writing feels similar to painting to me. Of course, I have never painted anything in my life and I can only call myself a writer in the sense that I have, at times, strung sentences together in an effort to express a complex thought, but every blank screen feels like an empty canvas. Every time I face one I am filled with trepidation and doubt about where to place my brush, what color I should choose, what emotion I am trying to convey, or what subject I am going to illustrate.

I think that most people with an internet connection read a lot. As my grandmother used to say, if you’re on the internet you’re either reading, watching porn, or playing Candy Crush. If you’re bothering to read this, believe me, I feel pretty honored. Particularly because I know so much of that porn is free. No, really, it is. Just Google “free porn.”

And there went my audience.

I consider myself relatively aware of the world. What that means is that I don’t know who the president of Chile is, but I’m cognizant enough of the political shift in South America to know that a)she’s probably a woman and b)she’s probably a goddamn Socialist, loathed by the United States government.

Which, you know, puts me in the 90th percentile of Americans, because I a)know that Chile is a country, not just a casual dining franchise that serves Mix & Match Fajitas®, b)I know that country is in South America and c)I know that there is a SOUTH America.

Not that this essay is going to be about Chile.

I’m not going to lie to you, it is difficult for me to live in the world. In fairness to this century, I think it would have been difficult for me to live in any moment in time, assuming that I had this brain in every century. Which, let’s face it, due to a lack of education, poor diet and status, I wouldn’t have. But it is particularly difficult to have intelligence, to see the poor choices that are being made by those that are in charge, and to be incapable of preventing them.

I feel like this world is divided into two camps: a)The Well-Off and b)Everyone Else. Except that The Well-Off very rarely feel well-off, and everyone else spends their time being tremendously pissed off at those who are poorer than they are.

Very few people look outside of their own pain, and even fewer look at the big picture.

It drives me absolutely mental. I can only hope that other people are bothered by this, too.

As Americans, let’s talk about guns.

(For THE ENTIRE REST OF THE WORLD, this really isn’t a debate. FOR THE ENTIRE REST OF THE WORLD–which is a sizable majority, Americans, in case you didn’t know: most of the people that live on this planet don’t live in the United States–this isn’t even an issue.)

Guns.

God damn the Second Amendment. I wish it had never been written. I am absolutely positive that, were James Madison allowed to travel through time and see what his vaguely worded edict had wrought by the 21st century, he wouldn’t have written it in the 18th.

I completely understand how frightening people can be. Strangers can be violent. Strangers can be criminal. The fear of the unknown is genuine, and something to take seriously. Unfortunately, I believe that Americans have taken this fear to pathological extremes. We are paranoid about being murdered by strangers. I believe that this fear has been manipulated by the NRA, which has been encouraged by the 2nd amendment. So many of us are convinced that having a gun in the home will protect us from invaders that we fail to see that having the gun in the house is causing us more deaths than burglars ever could. Our kids are killing themselves with the guns. We’re killing our spouses with the guns when we’re angry. We’re killing ourselves when we’re suicidal. We’re taking the guns out of the house and killing people in malls and schools and churches.

But we’re so obsessed with guns that we refuse to see it. It truly is an addiction.

It reminds me of how people used to be when smoking rights were slowly curtailed. “I can smoke where I want!” “My smoking doesn’t hurt anyone!” “I have the right to smoke!”

Replace guns with smoking. It’s all the same rhetoric. But, of course, there is no right to smoke written into the Constitution.

The obvious solution would be to change the Constitution. We repealed the 19th amendment. Certainly we could repeal the 2nd, right?

Yeah. I think so, too.

Sometimes I think, the 2nd amendment wouldn’t even need to be repealed…just interpreted properly. It says right in the text “A well-regulated militia…” I mean, shit. That’s a no-brainer, right. Sure…as long as you’re part of “a well-regulated militia,” you can possess your precious firearms. IT’S RIGHT THERE IN THE CONSTITUTION. But, somehow, the brainiacs on the Supreme Court haven’t really focused on that wee little bit of language for the past 40 years or however long the NRA has been pressing its knee on the throat of American politics. (Not that there is corruption in this great country of ours. That would be horrible.)

There are so many people carrying their revolvers and long guns around in this “great” nation of ours. And I have to wonder what they think they’re doing.

The “reason” for the 2nd amendment is to protect against the tyranny of the government. A man with a Glock isn’t going to stop the local police department from killing him, much less the force of the United States government.

The second “reason” people give for promoting gun usage is that police departments are never there when you need them, so it’s best to defend yourself. Well, to that I say, let’s do away with most of the police departments. As it is, SWAT teams are invading homes, innocent people are being killed, no-knock warrants are perfectly acceptable according to our government…so let’s stop spending money on police departments.

People also seem to think that their gun collections will never be infiltrated by their children. They have their security codes in place. People with guns don’t seem to give a shit that a lot of mass murders in America occur because the kids get the guns and go on a rampage. They don’t seem to connect their violent weapons with their children’s desire to act violently.

No one who loves guns and identifies with the second amendment sees that they are part of the problem.

Do they value life, these gun owners? They would rather shoot first and ask questions later, as the proliferation of the Stand Your Ground laws would attest. You have to ask yourself: Are we a civilized society?

It doesn’t feel very civilized to me. It feels increasingly more wild.

I would say that it feels like the wild, wild west, but that’s not fair to the wild, wild west. They were much more concerned about gun play then we seem to be here in the 21st century, thanks to the manipulation of public opinion by the NRA.

Gun sales went up after Barack Obama was elected president. So they say. Did gun sales go up after Ronald Reagan was almost killed? If not, why not? Why not? If there was a time to worry about the government taking over your guns, you would naturally think it would be after the attempted assassination of the president.

And people hold onto their guns. Like, desperately. The very ownership of the gun makes a person feel like a vigilante. I don’t think people realize the impact having a killing weapon in their possession has on them.

Listen.

I know that life is frightening.

I know that someone could smash my door in, attack me, and kill me. I know that possibility exists. It’s remote, but it could happen. Two cars have been broken into on the curb outside my house since I’ve lived here.

But I have to weigh how rare that possibility is against the possibility that that gun could be used in a suicide, in anger, in doubt, in panic, in fear. I could take a life so suddenly that I wouldn’t have the ability to rethink my decision. Do I really want to take someone’s life because he wanted to take my television? Someone could find my gun and take my life just as suddenly.

I don’t know why people would find comfort in owning a handgun. The only reason I can think they would is because of the second amendment.

God damn the second amendment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s Talk About Music

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Hello, friends.

As many of you know, I am pretty passionate about music. What you may not know is that I cannot stand music critics. Ho, my God. What pretentious assholes they seem to be, (although I’m sure their mothers love them.) Most of the music critics in my life–and I genuinely try to limit them–come to me via NPR. One of them recently, when describing a favorite album of his from 2013, said that the singer was “self-conscious without being self-absorbed.” I heard this in my car. I had to fight the urge to deliberately smash into the nearest concrete barrier simply to stop his voice from coming out of the speakers. I could have turned the radio off, but he made me so angry I forgot that was an option. He was “speaking English without even remotely attempting to make any fucking sense.” I seriously loathe them. (In an effort to sound a wee bit magnanimous, allow me qualify that. I don’t hate ALL of them. Some are quite good at what they do. Most of them, however, aren’t.) They are so busy trying to maximize their desperately overpriced English/Music degrees that they don’t even realize they stopped making sense about music a long time ago.

Music and language are clearly related to a certain degree. But, they are two vastly different mediums. My suspicion is professional writers resent that. Musicians, they own us, baby. Don’t they? You know they do. Writers can spend months locked up, sweating and alone, with their thoughts, for months, in an attempt to move perhaps 1,000 readers, if they’re lucky. Two notes from a guitar solo is all it takes to make thousands erupt. You don’t believe me? If you love rock & roll and were alive in the 70’s, try not to float a little when you click this. I don’t care how many books Oprah sold, her book club will never make people feel like that. The written word will never have that power. Ever. And that resentment comes through loud and clear in most of the reviews I read.

With all that being said, I’m here tonight to review a couple of CDs I’ve been listening to lately.

I know, right? I am nothing but a bundle of contradictions. And that is somewhat evident in the albums that have been competing for my attention lately.

I have been listening to Rosanne Cash’s new album “The River & The Thread” and Jill Hennessy’s “Ghost In My Head” pretty much on an infinite loop for the past two months. And just like the contradiction of my despising reviews of music and yet having the need to write about it, those two albums are very different. And yet I am addicted to both.

If you’ve known me for more than 47 minutes, one of the things that you’ve learned about me is that I am a tremendous fan of Rosanne Cash. That is not to say that I am a tremendous person, but rather that I will easily become the most tremendous blow-hard if you wanted to “chat” with me about her music. You will quickly look at your watch, silently wondering how you are going to extricate yourself from the conversation, thinking “Jesus Christ. All I said was ‘7 Year Ache’ was a good song. I didn’t even know who sang it. I thought it was KT Oslin. I have a family to go home to.”

020

Here I am in an intimate moment with Rosanne Cash, being photobombed by her husband, John Leventhal.

I have loved and admired Rosanne Cash for decades. Have you ever heard a particular singer’s voice and something clicks deep inside of you and you realize “I am this person’s slave. I will do whatever it is they want me to do. Wake up to buy tampons at 2:30am? Sure. Go murder the President because he won’t publicly support an anti-gun initiative? (Wouldn’t THAT be ironic?) I will do it, because I am their slave and they own me?” Has no one else had this happen to them? Well. If Rosanne Cash needed me to buy tampons–which, in and of itself would be an impressive request, because she’s in her 50’s–I would put the slippers on, fumble for the keys and look for the nearest 24-hour pharmacy.

I reveal that level of devotion to let you know that there is absolutely no way that I could seriously criticize any work that she did. I mean, it’s ridiculous to even expect it. But I will do my best to be objective.

But–it’s fucking ridiculous. I mean, I have been backstage as she performs soundcheck on some of the very songs I am going to be talking about. Please. I’m biased. Totally, irrevocably, biased. That’s another thing that pisses me off about music critics. If you don’t like someone because they’re a selfish, conceited, unmanageable prick, just say that. Don’t mask your resentment of their personality with a bad review. Conversely, if you are completely smitten with someone, be bold enough to admit that you are hypnotized by them, and that is why you are giving them a glowing review. (I’m looking at all the Taylor Swift fans out there.)

The River & The Thread

Rosanne Cash’s latest album, The River & The Thread, is a beautiful masterpiece.

For me to really get into the subtle nuances of her album…that would require you the reader to be face to face with me. We would consume either too much coffee or too many beers, but together, in conversation, we would parse this woman’s evolution down to its essence. Because she is a complicated woman. That is one of things I love about her. I am not going to do that justice in this essay.

To truly appreciate the beauty of Rosanne Cash’s latest album, you have to understand the albums that came before it. The reviews, be they on television, on NPR, or in print, don’t seem to focus on that. I mean, AT ALL. But, again…*hatred of music critics*…sigh. Stupid fuckers. All they focus upon is her relationship with her father.

I think I loved Rosanne Cash long before I had even an inkling of who her father was. That probably makes me different from about 97% of her fanbase. When I fell in love with Rosanne Cash, I knew her father sang “A Boy Named Sue,” thanks to my own father’s record collection. My father also introduced me to “My Ding a Ling” by Chuck Berry and “Hello Muddah Hello Fadduh,” by Allen Sherman. He loved them all equally. So, at the time, I did not have a deep appreciation for Johnny Cash. That came later, with maturity, once I got out of the house. My love for Rosanne came first. I feel like I am swimming against the tide in that respect, as everyone seems to love her father first, and her only as an afterthought.

She has a legacy that she has to honor. In many ways she is American Royalty. (Miley Cyrus probably knows exactly how she feels.)

(Show of hands–how many people here don’t realize that Rosanne Cash’s father is Johnny Cash? Show of hands–how many don’t know who Johnny Cash is? Well. Thank you for reading this essay for as long as you have.)

Rosanne Cash has been in the music business for a long time. She has transformed herself–as many do–over the decades. I am particularly infatuated with the work that she has produced since 1993’s The Wheel. I mean, I LOVED her King’s Record Shop album from the 1980’s that garnered her so many awards, and of course I remember 7 Year Ache…but her work since The Wheel has been decidedly different. And that in large part has to do with the man that she was in love with, who produced it, and who has been her life partner and collaborator since, John Leventhal.

It is ridiculous, since 1993, to refer to any Rosanne Cash album as a “solo” work. Because it is always in collaboration with her husband.

They fused a blend of country & pop and mixed it with red-hot passion back on “The Wheel” in 1993. That’s a great album. I cannot believe it didn’t chart. I mean, seriously. That is one of my favorite albums of all-time. It bothers the hell out of me that no one has ever heard it, if the charts are true. So, if you would like me to burn you a copy, just send me a tweet @Twizznit.

They have evolved, she has evolved, and her relationship with her family/heritage has evolved. And it has all coalesced in The River and The Thread. And she has blended the perfect brew. My only criticism of it is that it is too perfect. I don’t admire perfection. I resent it. I like flaws, and I like to root for underdogs. The River & The Thread gives me none of that.

I could spend the next few paragraphs dissecting every song on the album, providing you with adjectives that make you want to shoot me or read your thesaurus and then find an imaginative word for “murder,” but suffice it to say that Rosanne Cash has created a very soothing album that blends the history of her past with the history of her marriage with the history of music. Her husband plays on the record. Her husband produced the record. I don’t know how to tell you he is a genius, but he is one. She thanks, in the acknowledgements, her husband John. “We painted this together.” They did. And it is a beautiful painting. Are you familiar with her “Black Cadillac” album? Such a beautiful tribute to all the people she had lost during that time, including her father. (Her father is Johnny Cash. The singer.) And on the eponymous song, Black Cadillac, I could swear there is a trumpet tribute to Ring of Fire on it. I am probably wrong. But at the end, I swear I can hear it. Again, what do I know? I’m not a Johnny Cash fan, nor a music critic. The point I’m trying to make is that these people are serious, subtle, masters of their craft. The River and The Thread seems not only to tie into her familial roots, or the roots the South, but also to the past 20 years that she has been making music with her husband. But, unless you have heard the albums that they’ve made together, you would quite possibly miss that.

Rosanne Cash is, above all else, always in control of her emotions. There is a reason that her autobiography is titled “Composed.” She is focused on mastery, and you can feel the mastery in every song on The River and The Thread. There is nothing raw or unhinged about a Rosanne Cash song. She is always in control. It’s beautiful and intimidating.

It’s fascinating to me–again, because I know a little bit about her musical history–that the most interesting collaboration she performs on The River & The Thread is with her ex-husband, Rodney Crowell. They raised four children together but have been apart for decades…and yet, when they sing, it’s pretty obvious that they sound great together. Again…in keeping with the River and the Thread theme…that life, love, history and land all relate…it’s pretty awesome (and subtle) that she would recognize that with a soft duet with her (ex) husband.

To someone who has never heard of Rosanne Cash in their life…this is a soft, safe, crooning album. She is not going to surprise you, although she may please you. (Does that sound like something an asshole music critic would say? Please tell me that’s not as bad as “it’s self-conscious without being self-absorbed”?) She is a wonderful master, in her 50’s, who services the song…oh, Jesus, I think I heard that on NPR once. I need to shut up now.

When I’m not listening to Rosanne Cash’s new album, I’m playing Jill Hennessy’s 2009 debut, Ghost in My Head. Rosanne has come so far, and Jill is just getting started. What a contradiction.

Jill Hennessy Ghost in My Head

What year is this? Are we in 2014? That’s…okay. So, it’s been 5 years since this album has been released. Give or take. I’m a fairly new listener to it.

If you remember the early years of Law & Order or the television show Crossing Jordan, you should know who Jill Hennessy is. From the moment I saw her on Law & Order, she was in my “Top Ten.” The Top Ten, of course, being a list of beautiful women on television that, once they decided they wanted to sleep with me, I would accept into my bed as long as they were at the top of the list. (Thank God only men are sexist pigs, or else I might feel guilty about shamelessly rating women.) And Ms. Hennessy was always in the Top 10. Who else was in the Top 10? God, it was ever evolving. Madeline Stowe. Oof. And Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. Oh. My. God.

Can we please just take a moment to honor the powerful beauty that is Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio?

Whew.

Breath-taking.

No.

I still need a moment.

***

Sometimes I miss the 90s.

Alright. So now that I’ve established my sexist credentials, please allow me to dissect Jill Hennessy’s album further.

Please know that I was TERRIFIED to listen to this album. It took me YEARS.

I had been following Jill Hennessy on Twitter for many years, ever since I signed up for the service. From following her, I knew that she had made an album. And I completely, deliberately, avoided it. I was scared to death.

Try to imagine someone that you love watching on television or in movies suddenly deciding that they were going to sing.

I did that already, with someone named Russell Crowe.

Have you heard of him? Oh, yeah. I have his CD. 30 Odd Foot of Grunts. Yep.

30 Odd Foot of Grunts

Even the baby is ashamed to be associated with this album. “My God. What will my parents think?”

I own this album. It is on my iPod.

I loved Russell Crowe. Have you ever seen him in The Sum of Us? I had such high hopes for him. So, when he came out publicly to say that, yes, he was a musician…I scooped that shit up. Who wouldn’t? I loved him in The Sum of Us. And why would he lie?

And then I listened to his album.

To my credit, I haven’t killed him.

But, he did completely ruin me for the “actors who want to sing” set. I was done after that. He was that powerful & awful. That Pawerful.

So, when I joined Twitter and found Jill Hennessy, and her bio said that she was singing and had an album out, of course my first thoughts were towards Russell and I was all “Isn’t that nice.”

I completely ignored this woman’s singing for, what, two years, at least. Possibly three. Who but the NSA can know for sure how long I’ve been on Twitter.

I don’t think you understand how much I love this woman. She changes the physiology of my body–but only an asshole would say “she changes the physiology of my body.” I can’t breathe when I see her. There is like a gaping hole in my abdomen where my appetite used to be when I see her. She utterly stupefies me. She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life. So why would I want to fuck that up by listening to her sing and have her turn into Russell Crowe all over again? No one needs that shit. So I knew she was singing…and I politely ignored it.

Then, one day, on the Twitter, I said something about something she wrote, and she wrote back. (Soon I was to discover that she is very responsive to her fans. Like, VERY responsive. If I my girlfriends were that responsive to me, I probably would feel better about myself as a lover.) All of the sudden, this actress that I had admired, easily, for 20 years, was conversant. Shit! Fuck.

I downloaded her debut album. Because I felt guilty that I hadn’t listened to it. I didn’t know how to tell her “I have loved you for 20 years as a sporadic actress. I don’t want to heard your shitty vanity album and have all that love turn to hate.” It was released in 2009. I can’t remember being so scared to listen to anything in my life. Again, you have no idea how much I’ve admired Jill Hennessy as an actress.  And then there was Russell Crowe, Russell Crowe, hounding me in the back of my mind. I felt like I was losing my virginity for the first time all over again.

God, I was scared.

That was like two months ago. I haven’t really stopped listening to it since. I’ve kinda turned psycho about how much I love it.

So that’s the review you’re going to hear.

Remember how I said Rosanne Cash is so polished? Well. Jill Hennessy isn’t. And yet.

When I listen to some of her songs, it sounds as if she is playing for money in a subway…which kind of is perfect, because that is how she started.

I have my friend Rosanne Cash publicly saying that “It’s a mistake to say that songwriting is therapy,” and then there is Jill Hennessy saying that, yes, her songs were therapeutic.

(I just realized that I called Rosanne Cash my friend. We, (and by we I mean me and my cats) will let that go. C’mon. Let me die with my cats and my “friendship” with Rosanne Cash.)

I was so scared that Jill Hennessy was going to suck as both a singer and songwriter. I was just…I didn’t want to touch it for years.

But, I love Ms. Hennesssy’s work for almost the exact opposite reasons that I love Rosanne Cash’s.

I don’t understand the profession of songwriting. But there is something about Jill Hennessy’s voice that completely hypnotizes me. Her lyrics are so raw and personal–whereas Rosanne Cash’s are so ephemeral & universal.

After accepting that Jill Hennessy was a singer, I have learned a little bit about her history, and I now know that she began her career singing for money in the subways. You can totally hear that in her debut album.

But there are some songs that break through that busking genre and give you hope that there is something powerful underneath. I cannot stop listening to 4 Small Hands.

(Full disclosure: Before I started to listening to Jill Hennessy, I had no idea what “busking” was. I thought it was a city in Canada. Now I’m tossing the word around like I’ve used it for years. I’m 44, people. I had no idea what it was about 3 months ago.)

Apparently, when Jill Hennessy started her life as an artist, it began as a street musician.

It’s always ridiculous when you tell your friends “Hey, listen to these things!” “I like them! And if you like me, you’ll like them, too!”

Rosanne Cash’s new album and Jill Hennessy’s debut album are two totally different things. One is polished and composed and professional and the other is open and raw and intense. One knows who she is and where she comes from. One is trying to find a foothold in a harsh business. I love both of them.

Watching Morning Joe Is Hazardous to Your Health

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I have stopped watching Morning Joe on MSNBC. Although I have recently increased my level of exercise and have tried to be more diligent about the food I eat, deliberately avoiding Joe Scarborough at daybreak has been by far the healthiest thing I’ve done for myself in recent memory.

I should have never started watching Morning Joe in the first place. No one should have, really. Joe Scarborough is a proud polemist of a conservative bent. A former Republican congressman from Florida, Joe brings a Republican-friendly message to a network that leans predominantly to the left. I suppose that MSNBC puts him on the air for “balance.” But, conservatives who would appreciate his message probably avoid MSNBC the way that they avoid NPR, which is to say entirely, and liberals who do watch MSNBC really don’t need to absorb his shit first thing in the morning. I’m not sure who exactly Joe Scarborough’s core audience is, but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they all self-identified as “libertarians.” (Or, as I like to call them “douchebags who can’t take a pragmatic political position if their lives depended upon it.” Want to bring all your guns to a gay wedding in an economy ruled by the gold standard and in which the IRS is obsolete and the federal government only focuses on military spending? Congratulations, douchebag. You’re a libertarian.)

I used to think that Morning Joe was a 3 hour news show into which its conservative host occasionally interjected his Republican viewpoint. It isn’t and he doesn’t. It is a three hour showcase for Joe Scarborough to attack Democrats mercilessly while continually offering up his Republican ideology countered by his relatively stupefied and shell-shocked supporting cast. (Mika Brzezinski, bless her heart, is the hapless, albeit beautiful, Colmes to his Hannity. Overmatched both by wits and passion, she typically has no response to his diatribes save for the occasional “Well. No–I just–I shouldn’t–okay, moving on.” She succeeds in pissing me off both as a feminist and a liberal. As a woman with an adopted Polish heritage, though, I’m proud of her roots.)

I suppose he’s always been more obdurate and opinionated then I gave him credit for, but I didn’t really notice how far off the rails he has gone until the healthcare.gov website fiasco. Not coincidentally, that grim period represented the last time I watched Morning Joe.

Anyone who knows anything about the Affordable Care Act, (and I sincerely hope that you do, because I am not giving an overview here), knows that the rollout of the website that non-insured people were supposed to use to sign up was a complete disaster. There were very good reasons, all of them computer-related, why that happened. Never one to miss an opportunity to needlessly criticize President Obama, Joe Scarborough turned the failed healthcare.gov website rollout as his raison d’être for the next two weeks, if not longer. I don’t know, I stopped watching.

Every single morning, rain or shine, Joe Scarborough started his show off highlighting the failure of the website. That in itself is fine. I would even go so far as to say that making the public aware of a massive failure is one of the cornerstones of journalism in a democracy. Awareness brings public outrage which brings change. It is good to be aware. Joe, of course, wasn’t merely interested in bringing awareness. He was interested in using the failed website as a cudgel to beat the President’s policy senseless.

The problems with the website, out of Joe Scarborough’s mouth, became “the worst social engineering policy in the history of the United States.” (He probably didn’t use those exact words. I’m paraphrasing.) Obamacare, a mere two weeks in, was the “worst thing to ever happen to the United States.” I cannot begin to tell you how many times I heard the word “failure” out of his mouth.

Joe Scarborough used the rocky rollout of the website as an excuse to confidently demand that the entire law be repealed. As this is what typically qualifies as “logic” within the Republican Party, I am not surprised to hear it. But to a liberal just waking up trying to eat her Cheerios without choking, it is really unappreciated.

We live in a modern, industrialized world controlled by corporate interests both at home and abroad. This is not the laissez-faire agrarian world of our powdered-wigged forefathers. Certainly, subsistence farmers have a lot more political freedom than a wage-earner working under another man’s thumb, but it’s time to admit the day for that ideology, held so lovingly by states’ rights fan Thomas Jefferson, has long since passed. And in this new world, in which our government’s sole purpose seems to be dedicated exclusively to increasing corporate profits, the expectations of the average citizen have changed. Having access to basic healthcare at minimal cost has become a universal human right…throughout all of the industrialized world save for the United States. In the United States, this most basic of concepts is still up for debate. Since the existence of man-made global climate change and evolution are also still “up for debate” in this country, again I can’t say that I’m surprised. But I can still be annoyed.

If you ask any Republican, including Joe Scarborough, “Does every person have the right to buy health insurance?,” they will probably all say yes and agree with you. Enjoy that moment of agreement, liberals, because when it comes to access to health insurance, that is pretty much where the two parties part ways. (Notice, by the way, that we’re not talking about healthcare itself–no, no. To discuss universal access to that you’d be jumping straight onto the socialist crazy train. We have to take things incrementally in this country and limit our discussions during this decade to access to health insurance.) Because, if everyone is in agreement that people have the RIGHT to buy health insurance, they sure as shit can’t seem to agree on how to make sure that everyone has it.

For example, that is the first wrinkle that the Republicans want to protest against. “Making sure that everyone has health insurance.” We can’t FORCE people to have health insurance, they say. What if someone doesn’t WANT health insurance, they ask. You should have the freedom to CHOOSE whether or not you want health insurance, because this is America, they bluster.

There are two things that are currently true in the United States of America: The government does not automatically provide healthcare to every citizen and everyone, at some point, is going to get sick and die. I wish Republicans would for once forget that they are supposed to oppose everything that Barack Obama supports and admit that requiring every citizen have health insurance is the responsible thing to do. They seem to have no problem, after all, supporting mandatory car insurance, mandatory home owner’s insurance or mandatory flood insurance. On the basis of that track record, they seem to understand the concept of risk pools. But, since Socialist Obama thinks mandating health insurance is a great idea, suddenly requiring that every citizen has health insurance is the most ridiculous notion ever conceived in a democracy.

The second wrinkle is acknowledging the economic burden 48 million uninsured people are placing on our country. Obamacare, for all its flaws, was drafted in an attempt to correct a healthcare industry that was rife with problems. But, to hear Republicans speak about healthcare today, everything about our healthcare system was working perfectly until that Kenyan Marxist plowed maniacally into the Oval Office and starting destroying America from the top.

If by some miracle you are able to get a Republican to admit that everyone is entitled to health insurance and that, yes, having 48 million uninsured people within our borders acts a drag on our economy then, assuming you do not die from shock, you should ask the next basic question:

“How do you expect people to pay for it?”

Because, if you can come to agreement about the two wrinkles that I mentioned above, then you start to really see the gaping flaws in the American healthcare system. We are not talking about something that is provided freely to the public like police and fire services are. (There are millions of us here in America that think that’s EXACTLY how healthcare should be offered in this country, but that is lightyears away from where the discussion in America is today. We have to focus on health insurance, because that is the engine that currently drives our healthcare system.) If health insurance has to be purchased by every citizen, at what point does the government step in to assist those that can’t afford it?

That, of course, leads us to the next obvious truth in America: the majority of people that do not have health insurance do not have it because they cannot afford it. Which leads us to an even more sobering reality: A lot of Americans are really fucking poor. Even if they are living in decent neighborhoods, they are spending so much of their income on housing & basic living allowances that they are finding it increasingly difficult to absorb new expenses. We’re not saving a lot of money, not because we’re out making it rain with extravagant, unnecessary purchases, but because we don’t have any money to save. So how are these people going to afford to buy something that cannot fit into their budget?

If you’re a Republican with a morning talk show on MSNBC, you basically shrug your shoulders and say “That’s freedom. That’s the free market. If you can’t afford it, you shouldn’t have to buy it.” If you’re a liberal who confidently thought you were making headway with a Republican, seeing as how you just got them to agree on those first two wrinkles and all, you stare at them like they are a fucking moron.

Because of course the obvious answer (other than the much simpler, much more dangerously socialist “Medicare for all”) is “the government has to provide subsidies.”

Everyone needs health insurance. Everyone needs to buy health insurance. Everyone should be means tested to see what they can afford, and the government should assist anyone who is too poor to be able to afford it on their own.

With me so far? It’s so obvious, isn’t it? So simple. Hard to believe two political parties are fighting so fiercely over this basic concept.

Once those things are established, you can move onto the quality of the health insurance being offered. Because “cost” really is relative when it comes to health insurance, as I’m sure most of us have learned at one point or another. What is the point of having an “affordable” insurance plan for $75 a month if, when you had to use it you learned that it essentially covered nothing you needed? So, clearly, if we are going to mandate that everyone have health insurance, then we should establish that, at a bare minimum, every single plan being offered cover the very basic standards of care. Right? Please tell me that makes sense to you. Because that one issue alone is causing seizures throughout the entire Republican Party. Apparently, no, they do not believe in minimum expectations of services. They want people to have the “freedom” to purchase a health insurance policy that is worthless. They call that “choice.” They call that “the free market.” And they call it all those things with straight faces. I would not want to play poker with these sociopaths. I would lose my shirt.

Not to continue to drone on about the obvious need for Obamacare, but it is clear from our history & the declining overall health of our increasingly poor populace that something needed to be done about the situation. Republicans can rightfully moan about the particulars of what is being done, but for them to howl that Obamacare needs to be repealed in its entirety is a direct affront to the people who are deeply affected by this healthcare crisis.

Because that is another thing about Obamacare: It is attempting to improve a situation that is literally Life & Death. This is not mandating that everyone travel 55 mph on our interstate highways to conserve fuel. This is not mandating that everyone get a social security number. This is mandating that people have health insurance so that they can seek medical attention at a reasonable cost and receive treatment so that THEY DON’T DIE OR GO BANKRUPT.

Worrying about health insurance, or a lack thereof, is probably the greatest unspoken stress in this country. When people lose their jobs, they at least have access to unemployment & food stamps. What they don’t have access to is health insurance. People are afraid to leave jobs they hate for fear of losing their health insurance. Health insurance controls this society more than people give it credit for. Making it easier to get & less expensive will, ironically, provide more Americans with that freedom that Republicans seem to cherish so much.

In short, there are hundreds of valid reasons why the Affordable Care Act is an important piece of legislation that will greatly improve the lives of millions of Americans.

But did Joe Scarborough, (the self-proclaimed “moderate, reasonable Republican”), acknowledge any of that? Fuck no. Obamacare was a huge failure. It is going to prove to be the biggest disaster ever placed upon this nation. It is government run insurance! (No, it isn’t.) It is socialized medicine. (No, it isn’t.) It is going to lead corporations to stop offering their employees health insurance. (There is no evidence that this will happen.) Corporations will start making all their employees part-time so that they do not have to pay them health insurance. (Again, why would corporations shoot themselves in the foot like that? They would suffer a huge loss of employees. Not only that, but that has been Wal-Mart’s policy since long before the implementation of Obamacare.) All because a website wasn’t designed properly and was an unmitigated disaster in its first month.

Joe Scarborough’s the-sky-is-falling reaction to the failures of healthcare.gov would be laughable if there wasn’t so much at stake. I find his reaction to be ridiculous. It would be akin to Harry Truman, upon discovering through his Senate committee that rampant fraud was being conducted by contractors who were tasked with building up the military at the onset of World War II, throwing up his hands from his committee chair and demanding, not that the abuse stop, but that American surrender and get out of the war altogether because, dammit, we just can’t get it right. His attitude is not very American. It’s nothing more than political theater. Which is exactly why I stopped watching.

Because you are free in this country to proclaim that basic human rights should not exist. Of course, that makes you an idiot, that goes without saying. But it makes me a bigger idiot to sit and listen to your nonsense while I’m trying to eat my Cheerios.

My Two Cents

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Here we go again.

The extremists in the Republican Party are playing yet another game of chicken with America. Today, October 1st, 2013, they engineered a shutdown of the federal government rather than attempt to pass a spending bill in the House of Representatives that doesn’t defund Obamacare.

I don’t want to be typing this. I don’t want to be drag into the fray, no matter how insignificantly. I do not want yet another insane tactic by the GOP to compel me to write a blogpost. I do not want my voice to join in with the cascade of millions that are crying out on social media, either in favor* or in dissent, of the rampant stupidity that is on display in John Boehner’s House of Representatives.

But, here we go again.

I have a lot of other shit going on in my life–shit that is much more interesting, enlivening & entertaining than this clusterfuck that those Republican asshats in Washington have deliberately created. I would much rather be talking about that stuff. But, momentous, historical events like the Republican Party intentionally showing their ass to the entire world need to be documented, unlike my excitement over finding a new and improved roommate. (And that is such an interesting story. I would much rather be writing an essay about that, believe me. But then I’d be the narcissist who, on one of the most significant political days of Barack Obama’s second term, decided to write about her “personal growth” and “happiness” and “relief” rather than about the catastrophic shouting matches that are undoubtedly going on right now in the hallowed halls of Congress, even this late at night. And I just couldn’t be that person.)

Here’s what I would like to say about before I wrap this blogpost up so that I can hopefully practice a little guitar before I head to bed–that’s right: I’m trying to learn how to play the guitar. ANOTHER fun, interesting thing that I sorely wish I was telling you about instead of having to waste even an ounce of energy thinking about that incompetent boob John Boehner and his merry band of pranksters–WE ALL SAW THIS COMING.

And if you didn’t see this coming, then you haven’t been paying attention.

I am not a pundit or a prognosticator. I barely know how to spell them. But, it has been patently obvious to me ever since I heard one Tea Party candidate in Nevada suggest that, in lieu of affordable health care legislated by the government, people could barter chickens with their doctor for medicine, that every single politician who was proud to proclaim themselves “Tea Party Republicans” were batshit insane and dangerous. It’s not as simple as “the lunatics have taken over the asylum.” Oh, no. It’s the lunatics who throw their own feces on the wall then dip their hand in it to spell “patriotism.”

(I’m the kind of writer that likes to leave ‘visual images’ imprinted on your mind. You’re welcome.)

It has also been obvious that the Speaker of the House, a so-called “moderate” Republican, has catered to their every whim ever since Nancy Pelosi handed him the gavel.

We’ve had to endure this style of brinksmanship entirely too many times before from this Congress and the one directly preceding it.

So it really should come as no surprise that we are where we are: incapable of being able to compromise with the Tea Party and with 40% of the government shutdown.

Tea Party Republicans do not want to compromise. They view compromise as a dirty, traitorous word. They want everything to go their way, and they do not care how much pain they cause people in order to achieve their goals. Because people don’t matter to them. Principles & ideals matter to them. The consequences are insignificant.

They are convinced that Obama is ruining America. Therefore, they can never agree with Obama about anything of substance. Because if they do, they would be aiding the enemy.

They have so convinced themselves that Obamacare–the most noble attempt at social engineering that any Congress in over 40 years has managed to pass–is going to lead to the destruction of America that they would willingly destroy America in order to save it from Obamacare.

They are so convinced that government spending is useless and rife with fraud, waste & abuse, that they willingly slash billions and billions of dollars haphazardly out of a budget, arrogantly dismissive of the harmful impact such cuts cause.

They use the fact that Jesus Himself has not manifested Himself on this plane to deliver the holy & righteous up to the Kingdom of God as proof that they are NOT causing irreparable damage to America’s people, its economy, and its reputation. Because if it WAS the End Times, we’d see some levitating bodies. Their absence merely proves that we all just need to get over ourselves and stop worrying and let the Tea Party cleanse America.

(I realize that the above paragraph is rather mangled. I need to take time to shape my thoughts more precisely. I need to edit it. But, I don’t want to be writing this essay, much less editing it, so I’m not going to. My apologies for making you read it or any other horribly garbled sentences, for that matter. Although–thank you for reading it. That’s awful nice of you. I like you.**)

They are, in short, dangerous fanatics. They have been appeased one too many times by their colleagues in Congress, and now they are taking their heightened sense of righteous fury to a whole ‘nother level.

And if the showdowns that are occurring here in October of 2013 do not convince a sizable majority of Americans that the Republican Party is not to be trusted to govern, because they are acting as disciplined as Martin Lawrence, Charlie Sheen, Amanda Bynes & Lindsay Lohan at an all-you-can-eat marijuana/crack buffet, then the fault doesn’t lie with Congress, the fault lies with us.

We have got to stop electing these morons. Sure, sure, South Carolina and Texas are always going to be full of batshit asshats who hold the contradictory ideas of the South Rising Again AND the New World Order Government coming to take away their guns in perfect harmony in their heads…but I am about done with this split electorate shit. If, after all of this maniacal crap, fifty percent of this country still thinks the Republican Party has the best interests of the country at heart…? If after the 2014 election dozens of Republicans do not lose their seats to more rational, sane people? Well. Let’s just say in that case 2015 is gonna be known as The Year Aunt Laurie Drank Herself to Death around the ol’ family homestead.

And I would much rather just learn to play the guitar rather than become a raging alcoholic, if you don’t mind. So, please. Stop voting these fucking morons into office.

Thank you. I am going to go practice the guitar now. I’ve learned eight notes already! And supposedly I can play ‘Rockin’ Robin,’ but I can assure you, despite what my fingers are trying to do on the frets, I really, really can’t.

*and go fuck yourself, if you’re in favor of what’s happening in Washington DC right now. No. Seriously. Go grab an unlubricated broomstick and shove it up your ass. Pull it out and then plunge it back in there. Repeat until you realize how utterly wrong your point of view is. Then get yourself to the emergency room and take advantage of that insurance plan mean old Obama forced you to purchase by having someone take care of that rectal bleeding for you.

**unless you’re in favor of what’s happening in Washington DC right now. In that case, please refer to the asterisk above.

Square Dancin’

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Johnny Cash & The FingerSometimes when I get home from my 8 to 5 job I am torn between sitting quietly in my living room with a book reading and sitting quietly in my office with my computer writing. There are only so many hours left in the day before I have to start the inexorable grind all over again, after all. Is it better to fill my head with the insight and knowledge that only reading a new book can bring, or would I be using my time better by taking time to share my opinions on my blog? In other words, is it more important to become more educated or to express one’s own personal opinion?

As it turns out, in my case, since I am a celibate shut-in who lives with four cats, the answer is neither. All that matters is that I just sit here quietly. And perhaps occasionally empty those cat litter boxes. Please.

But, with this recent NSA scandal continuing to brew, I just want to continue to comment upon what is unfolding, as I think it is fascinating.

If you have not read my previous blogpost, (and judging by the statistics WordPress happily accumulates for all of its contributors, you haven’t), I am not a fan of the massive data collection program being undertaken by our government. I would link that post to you here, but I’m incredibly fucking illiterate when it comes to how to do that. So, you know. It’s the next one down. Read it if you want to.

What I’ve noticed is, just as with every other gigantic scandal that has taken place in my lifetime, that the movers and shakers in the opinion world have divided into two camps. A few people who proudly identify themselves as liberal are opposed to the program, or at least suspicious of it. But, of course, the majority seem to be in the “The man who leaked this material is a coward and a traitor and needs to be strung up by his balls” camp.

People: I don’t know if it has occurred to you as forcefully as it occurred to me today, but we are SURROUNDED by the status quo. And, if you’re not careful, the status quo will tell you how to think.

If you are, like me, a simple citizen who has never researched anything deeply or seriously except perhaps lesbian porn, (Editor’s note: My apologies–Laurie is simply trying to maintain your attention, and all the marketing research shows that saying “lesbian porn” is a great way to keep your eyes on the page. Not that she has read any marketing research, being busy watching lesbian porn and all.), and who doesn’t have an advanced degree or a subscription to The Economist, but if you’re also like me in that you like to pretend that you have Educated Opinions about The Issues, then you listen to NPR and read opinion pieces from the most respectable news outlets. Oh, you try to read a variety of people from a variety of sources but, if you want to be Taken Seriously, then you read mainstream views from Respected Columnists. The Status Quo, in other words.

This, of course, means that you are at risk of thinking exactly what the status quo wants you to think. So please be careful.

As best as I can gather, so far, virtually all opinion makers who wish to be viewed as either moderate or right of center are firmly on the side of the government on this issue. That fact alone should give anyone trying to make their mind up about this scandal pause.

The basic defense of this massive invasion of privacy seems to be this: a)3000 people died on 9/11; b)this isn’t hurting anyone; c)Americans want their government to do anything and everything (within reason, which this clearly is) to stop terrorism.

And to that I respond: what happens when the next successful terroristic attack occurs? (And it will.) What will we agree to endure then from the government, in the name of preventing terrorism? Embedded microchips? Why not? I mean, if scooping up every foreign telephone call and every email, (and every blogpost), isn’t enough to stop terrorism, (and it won’t be), then maybe we need to think of some more invasive methods. We all want to remain safe, right? You don’t have anything to hide. In fact, why DON’T we have embedded microchips already?

As to the defense that this isn’t hurting anyone, that this isn’t a big deal because no ones’ rights have been violated, I would simply like to point out that WE DON’T FUCKING KNOW THAT. I mean, call me Einstein, but we don’t. We have absolutely no idea if anyone’s life has been affected by this. And all those movers and shakers, those opinion makers, those erudite journalists who have come out so quickly to say that this hasn’t hurt anyone? They realize it, too. They are fully aware that they don’t have all the details. They have no clue whether or not people have been unfairly railroaded into accepting guilty pleas for terrorist activities because of this program. That doesn’t seem to stop them from asserting as quickly as they possibly can that “no ones’ rights have been violated.” If they were taking their roles as journalists seriously, they would ask that question first, and frequently, until they got definitive answers. If they weren’t simply propagandists for the Status Quo, they would hesitate before leaping up to assert that the Constitution is safe. But, they didn’t hesitate. Because propaganda has to strike while the iron is hot. They have to jump out in front of the issue, to quash dissent, to control the story, to manipulate public opinion. Which is exactly what they are doing.

I have read inane comments such as “Google has all of your information, why shouldn’t the government?” I mean, I don’t know, let me think about it. Hmm. Wow. The answer came so lightning quick to my brain before I even had a chance to prepare myself for the answer that I don’t know if I’ll be able to dictate it properly. But lemme give it a shot:

BECAUSE GOOGLE CAN’T PROSECUTE YOU AND EXECUTE YOU OR IMPRISON YOU FOR LIFE IF THEY DEEM YOU TO BE AN ENEMY OF THE STATE.

Is the easy answer.

But maybe the government having the power to do that is not something we take seriously. Which in and of itself should scare the shit out of any citizen anxious to prevent Totalitarian Creep.

The status quo is powerful. If you’re an opinion maker for a national news outlet or webpage, you adore the status quo. Oh, you’ll occasionally say something to get under some politician’s skin…but it’s all theatre. You create your drama to create tiny stirs and to boost ratings or page views, but all of it is essentially designed simply to…to maintain the status quo. It’s quite a beautifully well-oiled machine. Complain about Politician A. Defend Politician B. Demand Politician C resign! immediately. But…when the shit truly hits the fan and the entire political apparatus is being threatened…then you circle the wagons, by God, and protect ALL of the politicians. Whatever you have to do to keep getting invited to those cocktail parties. Keep sipping scotch with the policy makers, and laugh at all of us lesbian porn watching, (Editor’s note: That was me this time, actually. Laurie was droning on. I needed to punch it up a bit.), uneducated, idiots who aren’t smart enough to realize how the world really works.

So, as this scandal swirls around you, ask yourself, as you either try to ignore it or formulate an opinion of your own: Is this really how I think? Or is the status quo massaging me to think this way?

I, for one, say fuck the squares.

The status quo is NOT always ideal. Part of freedom means fighting the power. Americans are so passive it frightens me. Anyone who has read 1984 is familiar with the concept of an all-powerful government…but we seem decidedly undisturbed when we are presented evidence that it is actually happening. What’s ironic is that, anyone who has the slightest remembrance of history knows that the country was appalled in the 1970s when it was discovered that the FBI had files on thousands of innocent people: Martin Luther King, Jr., John Lennon, gay rights activists, etc. We were once so appalled by that overreach that we put strict rules in place to limit those kinds of intrusions. Keeping the government in line used to be important to us. This generation, though, seems to yearn for a police state. I see very little evidence that people are resistant to the idea. All because 19 criminals did something terrible one day in 2001.

There was one opinion maker from China who seemed to recognize the great power that America is exhibiting. He pointed out that when people feel like everything they are thinking is being monitored by the state, creativity and ingenuity die. People begin to self-censor in an effort to avoid scrutiny. And he only had to point to his homeland for evidence.

But I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. David Brooks says it’s fine.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some litter boxes to clean.

And lesbian porn to watch.