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An Angry Blog of Peace Descends on San Francisco
July2k4
Saved Inc.
Them newfangled evangelical folks is serious 'bout they God. I caught a cable preachin' act at Chicago Midway Airport and Food Ripoff Depot during a three-hour layover en route to Flint, MI...where I plan to catch Farenheit 9-11 and ask a few long-lost homeboys what they think of Michael Moore, but that's another tangent. Mister Moore prolly gets a kick out of the hardcore preachin, but what I saw at Midway was flat-out weird (having spent the last six-plus years in San Francisco, I thought I knew all about weird).
This thin thirtysomething black fellow was sweating all over his nice gray suit, sweating mainly cause he was dancing and singing like old-school Teddy Pendegrass, cept it wasn't no everyday secular singing, this cat was singing for the Lord:
Sometimes you might feel alone
But you not
But youuuuu NOT!!!
No....you are NOT aloooone
But you might feel...oh...so all alone. So tired, but good Gawd!
No! You are not alone!
After a couple minutes of this I was about ready to tear up my agnostic papers and start whooping it up right inside the airport. "Gawd is in the house! My house! Ha!"
But I got breakfast instead: $8.85 for a re-heated breakfast burrito and a 16oz bottle of cranberry juice.
Most likely, I'll be an agnostic till I shake this mortal coil, then if I'm proven wrong, so be it. I just can't base my life on a system where all the cool miracles ceased right about when recorded history began. Sorry.
That said, I'm a proponent of religion USA, generally, if for no other reason, that part of American church doctrine is being good to your neighbors, doing well in school, and in sum making something out of your life...being a fountain, not a drain and all that homestyle crappity crap. The particular religous show I caught came from Chicago (WCIU), judging by the commercials, and the addresses and the, well, bluesy flavor of the sermons, and really, good gospel is a different kind of blues...you gotta take my word on that. But half the commercials on this show with the sing-preaching promoted job training and community college opportunities for urban youth. That rocks!
Makes me wanna sing.
To help with the singin' and celebratin', here are a few of my default albums: (default meaning I can always, always, spin the following discs and be a happier agnostic. word.)
Round About Midnight - Miles
Book of Human Language - Aceyalone
Starfish - The Church
Master of Puppets - Metallica
Perfect From Now On - Built to Spill
- k
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Another damn planeride to Michigan. No way to fight the airport experience cept with plenty of booze and a wandering mind, which works wonders with blogging...hate that term by the way.
This planeride's a bit different in that I'll be in Michigan for at least a year, maybe 18 months. The length of my stay depends on many things, one of them being...
The Detroit Lions
I can not devulge in print what exactly I expect the Lions to accomplish in the next 18 months, but those of you who are either my friends or general football fans adept at linking two and two together properly will understand, soon enough, what will transpire.
I will say, for the record, that the Lions are on the come-up, in a big way.
Living in the Limelight, the universal dream....
That is an expectation, and expectations are dangerous, especially to a terminal romantic /cynic such as myself.
Did I say cynic? Hell, that's the Grey Goose talking, not me. We're kicking ass on all fronts. America number one! If I was five years younger and a tad ballzier, I'd be trying my luck with the Special Forces, kiddo. Right, that's definitely the booze talking. Regular Navy bootcamp was all I wanted to tangle with back in the day when I was 18...the Navy Seals shit (also known as BUDS) would kill me. That's not my style, unless I'm under the spell of a vendetta of some sort, but who can live like that? Who could possibly define their life by revenge?
Do such folks exist?
Hands on the button.
- k
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Seeking Contestants for Snuff TV
So, if Islamo-fascists take a hostage, who happens to be from the Philippines, stipulating that said Philippino will be relieved of his head unless all Philippino's skadaddle from Iraq, what is the correct response? I know, it's a tough one, especially if ya think everything is relative. We have gleaned some basics since the hostage-taking / head-chopping thing started-- and which is now on the verge of occupying Fox's Sunday 9pm slot. We know that if a nation gives in to the Islamo-fascists, in the case of the Philippines that means removing roughly fifty troops and civilian workers, the hostage in question prolly lives...and, the Dark-Age Nostalgia Crew is emboldened. Yes? Of course, cause they're damn sure not satisfied.
On the heels of the Philippino capitulation, these ignorant wastes of biomass have taken another six hostages-- from India, Kenya, and Egypt. The message is simple: all foreign workers leave Iraq, or chop-chop. To these assholes, the only foreigners welcome in Iraq are terrorists, who incidentally, are not known as good nation-builders.
Why negotiate?
Now, I understand the survival instinct, I think, and I can understand President Macapagal-Arroyo wanting to do right by her citizens. Angelo DelaCruz, the Philippino hostage in question, is just a father of eight trying to feed his family. He doesn't want to or needs to be dragged into this whole war of civilizations. I mean, that's a commitment, and we all have full calendars.
It is maddening. Pay some now, pay more later. As we know, appeasing tyranny always means pay more later. Always. What's worse, the terrorists here are punks, in the worst sense:
"We have warned all countries, companies, businessmen and truck drivers that those who deal with the American cowboy occupiers will be targeted by the fires of the mujaheddin," the group said in a separate statement sent to the Associated Press.
People who boast and make threats in this manner are shitbags and ought to be eliminated, quietly and with grim determination. And, I've said it before a hundred times and I say it again: Anyone who sees moral equivalence between the Islamo-fascists and our Current Administration has been failed, deeply, by our education system and are thus just wasting valuable space. Seriously.
I'm glad that Mr. DelaCruz is safe and back in his homeland. If my brother, uncles, or a dear friend was in the same situation I'd be raising total hell to whoever would listen, pleading for a rescue, and possibly pleading for appeasement...but I hope I'm wrong on that last count, because how utterly selfish does it make me to know that one life spared will mean many times that number lost?
- k
- k
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Madvillainy
Some months ago, producer and professional blunt-sucker Madlib released an album with MF Doom. I bought the thing and like the other 99.6 percent of everyone who has Madvillainy, I thought it was the bee's nuts, edgy and comforting with a wide assortment of free jazz samples and Doom at his wittiest and wisest. I've listened to this thing a least 100 times. It's burned deep into my brian-wires. After all this exposure, I have the following to say to those who don't know yet...and I'm too old to be a music canary-in-the-coal-mine anymore:
Buy Madvillainy, buy it. Make Madlib and Doom rich, super rich. I love the idea of these cats moving eight million units of Madvillainy because it is the very best of hip-hop. When folks groan and sputter invective against radio rap, I grit my teeth, and I hear a lot of nonsense about hip-hop...a lot. This album, raw smooth complex jazzy accessible distant and intimate is the best thing I've heard in a couple years. If you need more convincing, here's a review from Pitchfork...who are usually close to the mark, even though their tastes can drift towards that sissy emo crap, but nonetheless, close to the park overall.
Our friends in perpetuity, the Russians
My friend and devout secular humanist, J, and I talk about Russia on a regular basis, mainly cause it's such a dark and fascinating topic. It's really impressive and twisted that Ivan the Terrible, your inbred greedy Czars, Joe Stalin, and Brezhnev all led the same country. We talk about Russia because they've had at least a thousand years of crap government. Think about it...1000 years. Talk about a long national nightmare. The worst we can do is, what, Nixon? Dick Nixon is Jesus H. Christ next to Stalin. Really. Anyway, J pointed me to the following, inside an article that can be found here.
"One area that may become a problem for American
foreign policy is Russia and its “managed democracy,”
as President Putin calls it. Russia has no genuine
rule of law. Under Putin the secret police have staged
an ominous comeback. Since 1994, nine members of
Russia’s parliament and 130 journalists have been
murdered. Arrests have been few and far between."says J - 'Reminds me of a discussion we once had regarding Putin
is no Stalin. Look at his numbers. Isn't that all
one can really hope for?'
Nine members of Parliament. Imagine, if we had to deal with finding congressmen with a ventilated forehead once or twice a year, every year. That would have a serious political effect. Comparatively, Cheney telling Leahy to shag himself seems pretty tame. Next to the Russians, we're okay, really. It took Stalin about seven years in power before he because the Stalin we all knew and loved, when he became less of a Marxist and more like his hero Ivan. What a freak...what do those people put in their vodka?
- k
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Enough of the gaps.
Had stuff to take care of, and the time-drain linked to said stuff has maxed out and now recedes towards manageability, of late at a good clip, so on with it.
I was shuffling through a Books Inc. branch on Market Street, and came across the new issue of Harpers, a mag I try to avoid, because this is a city of histrionics, and thus I try to stay away from histrionics in print...unless it's really funny, and Harper's really has little to no use for humor (a general malady of the left). But it was early, for me, and I hadn't yet secured my large coffee from Peets, so I wasn't thinking straight and thus started reading some Harpers copy in the bookstore, knowing damn well that I'd get pissed within a minute.
Lewis Lapham, Harper's overlord, is about 70 and runs Harper's like Bill Buckley runs the National Review; though the former stands on shakier ideas (not to mention ideals opaque at best due to cynicism-- which is one of my biggest beefs with the institutional left.) than the latter. But, Lewis knows talent, and some of his writers, while I rarely agree with them, are quite talented, and actually, on matters of environment and education I often do agree with the Harper's standard. Equivocation uber alles.
A thing about Lapham that irks me is that, at 70, the mere thought of our simple yet obfuscating chief executive in power drives him insane, something not to play with when you're a senior, and it causes Mr. Lapham to spout haughty bullshit at such a rate that he could easily fertilize 10 acres of corn, or in Canada, weed, on the spot and secure a fat farm subsidy from Dubbya's crew. It may sound like magical blog-realism, but not really.
In Lapham's monthly Harper's essay, Notebook, he makes the original leftist argument that we need to get out of Iraq, pronto. He uses poker terminology and suggests that Dubbya envisions the Iraq war as a poker game, one shared with playing partners "John Wayne, Omar Shariff, and The Devil." Sweet. Lapham says that Bush has just bet another division of Marines to win 'the game.' These zero-sum idiots, is there not a pill for this?
Lapham goes on to say that there is no reason to be in Iraq since there are no WMD's, and no hope, and all the locals hate us...and on that last point, might detractors please, pretty please, read a few Iraqi blogs? Read the one's in English, read some Arabic ones, and / or if you can't decipher Arabic, copy some text and have a translator transcribe, or have two or three if you have the cash and the truth is important to you. Because, if you take the time and pour through some of the local Iraqi sentiment, you will find that they are generally ecstatic that we bounced Saddam Hussien and are pouring in copious amounts of cash to rebuild their country, one that, admittedly, we helped to destroy.
The fact that the war was launched in a dishonest way means that Bush ought to lose his job. There are many reasons, actually, why Bush should lose his job-- his tax-cut regime is moronic during wartime, he ripped up Kyoto without conjuring a decent alternative...serious asshole moves. I could go on and you all know it. However, this does not mean that booting Saddam was a bad idea. Folks, the Middle East is fucked. And if it does not un-fuck itself, we're fucked. Get it? Islam is coming out of its dark age, which is good, but change creates conflict, which has to be managed. Need I point out that, despite our manifold faults, if the United States had never come into existence, the world would be a much darker place. The 20th century proves that. We have tried the tack of leaving others be. Hell, we've spent a good portion of our existence ignoring the rest of the world...except when we needed slaves or scientists, anyway, it is what it is.
Iraq is going to be a successful democracy, and it will take a bit of time to get there. I've said it in the blog several times, I'll be a tourist in Baghdad in a few years, and I will have a blast, and I'll tip generously. Lapham, of course, compares Iraq to Vietnam, because that's how he thinks...that American's are evil meddlers and that Communism is no worse than Capitalism. Lewis my boy, I hope you retain your health, because in five years, I want you to come to Iraq with me, and I want you to look into the eyes of a local, and say it was all for nothing. You asshole.
selah
- k
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The moving and storage businesses are shady and possibly evil.
I'm lashing together a bunch of stuff bound for Detroit-- for this huge bonfire we have planned outside of Hart Plaza to celebrate-- kidding, really...and I have, at any rate, discovered that the kinds of people who run the moving and storage industry are the kinds of people with little or no documentation, except with various police stations and bail-bondsman. Cab drivers are clergymen next to these folks. Check out www.ripoffreport.com and tap in 'moving company' or 'van lines' or something along that tangent.
It's made me a little nervous. If this were an inexpensive affair, I'd be a bit more cavaliar...roll the dice, hope for the best, make sure the insurance is up to date. But it's not quite like that because these bastards are charging me six bucks a cubic foot...for everthing. It's gonna cost me damn near two-hundy to move my goddamned mattress to motown. I love my mattress, and I'm not ready to replace it because buying mattresses are such a long-term gamble, and my back is particular about sleeping surfaces and those of you out there with touchy backs (I keep SOMAs and the number to my pro back-cracker near at all times) know exactly what a great mattress means and how hard they can be to find. But two-hundred, just for the mattress!? What about the rest of the bed? What about the tonnage of other crap I've accumulated. So now I understand the impetus behind moving sales.
I have a notion that moving companies assume that everyone who hires them is loaded down with too much cash, so that, in effect, these kind moving folks are helping with cash and class redistribution, which of course is simply not true in this case. Why must I be penalized for not wanting to lug a U-Haul across three time zones. I've done that before, and it sucks. U-Haul trucks are the most uncomfortable devices outside the Iron Maiden or maybe the ol fashioned Devil's Island 3' by 3' sweat box. Driving two-thousand and something miles in a fully loaded U-Haul truck (or Ryder or Budget...I don't want to discrimmnate...they all suck ass) is pure torture, baby. So, I'd just as soon have someone else go through the torture for me.
And maybe that's why I'm getting soaked on this thing.
selah
- k
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Recently heard at or around Mission and 16th:
"I need to stop partying. All the women I meet are alcoholics and cokeheads"
"Nigga, they teachin' them that over there so they can come back and shoot us, that's all." ed. note conspiracy theories amongst urban crackheads are common.
"She's got a smile like God using Vegas as a mouthpiece."
"America number one!" - mocking response to young socialist handing out world worker's party propaganda on valencia and 16th
"Jesús salva! Drogas matan!" - portable preacher at bart station entrance
That's about right. Let the games begin.
selah
- k
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2k4 is half over...and so are we, know what I mean?
"the good times are killing me" - Issac Brock (and millions of others who couldn't find a way to get the word out)
So, how kooky was it to see Saddam Hussien talking poo to his captors and judges? "I am the President of Iraq." Balls, pure balls. Saddam deserves far worse than what he's going to get, but that's but one lamentable aspect of a progressive society. Flesh-eating ants and the thumpings of 1000 toy ballbats doesn't float so well in the pool of civilized behavior. But, oh just this once, can't we bend the rules a bit? I mean, a few hard-core Nazi's got gassed, post-Nuremberg, and gosh, a gassing would suit Saddam nicely...after a few weeks of horrific torture.
Let the people decide, and check Mohammed's 1july04 post on the wondrous 'Iraq the Model'. When all is said and done, Omar, Ali, and Mohammed will go down in history as torchbearers of Iraq's golden age...the brave one's who dared to shine a light into a dark and unknown cave.
Yep, 2k4 is half over, and it's getting weirder by the day. The left and the right barely speak to each other, except through Rush Limbaugh and Michael Moore. That's rich, really. Those two should co-host a program, and you know what, dollars to doughnuts (and ya better believe el-Rushbo and M.M. love the sweet fried breadstuff) says they'd get along just fabby...better than Hannity and Colmes. Let's do it, two peas straining the fabric of any pod.
selah
- k