Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Behind My Eyes

Can you see through my eyes? Can you feel what I feel? Can you know my history, my hopes, my dreams, or my pain? No? Then tell me, why would you expect me to be able to see the world as you see it? Why would you even pretend that I could? Do you remember that old saying that no man is an island? Well it’s just as true that no mind is a community.

I can’t “feel your pain.” I don’t “know what you’re saying,” I can only hear you speak. I really don’t “get it.” And you certainly ain’t “got me.” I can’t “lie in your bed,” or “walk a mile in your shoes.” There is no such thing as a “psychic connection.” If we really want to understand one another, then we must get down to the hard work of communicating effectively.

There are two things that I have believed for as long as I can remember. The first is that the root of all evil grows best in the soil of misunderstanding. And the second is that we can do better. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t try so hard to be a good writer. Hell, I wouldn’t try at all. But I keep on trying in the vain hope that, by effectively articulating the life-sustaining imperative that we live our lives as rational beings, my writing will help to inspire a new age of reason.

Unfortunately, all I seem to have achieved so far is an appreciation for the mentality of the sociopath.

The Who – Behind Blue Eyes

No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

No one knows what it’s like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

But my dreams
They aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That’s never free

No one knows what it’s like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you

No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

But my dreams
They aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That’s never free

When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool

And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat

No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

I want ice water.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Show Me, Don’t Tell Me

As a follower of the Objectivist teachings of Ayn Rand, I naturally have an interest in what others are saying on the subject. And just as I have, there are many other voices pointing out how those teachings are more important now than they have ever been. That is because the Objectivist philosophy represents the only clear path to achieving a truly moral society, and I could not agree more with those other voices. However, those other voices also cry out for a strengthening and renewal of the so-called “Objectivist Movement.” On this point, unfortunately, I must beg to differ.

Just like every other attempt at “group-think” in history, the Objectivist movement is doomed to failure because, by definition, “group-think” is a collectivist endeavor. The real benefits to mankind from the Objectivist philosophy have come and will come in the form all such benefits have taken: as side effects of actions taken by individuals working for their own self interest. And while it may be comforting to have others with whom we can commiserate and share war stories, any attempt to forge a “union” from such a group of radical free thinkers is destined for a very embarrassing public failure.

One needs only to look at the current state of the Libertarian Party to see what I mean. I believe that the Libertarians are all good and well intentioned people, but an example of Objectivist thinkers working well together they most definitely are not. How does appearing to the world like a bunch of loonies help to promote the Objectivist philosophy? “Collective Individualism” is a contradiction in terms.

As has always been the case, it’s the “show me, don’t tell me” strategy that will get the job done. To emphasize this point, I submit the lyrics to Show Don’t Tell by Rush – one of the world’s foremost proponents of Ayn Rand’s teachings:

How many times do you hear it?
It goes on all day long
Everyone knows everything
And no one’s ever wrong
Until later…

Who can you believe?
It’s hard to play it safe
But apart from a few good friends
We don’t take anything on faith
Until later…

Show…don’t tell…

(Show me, don’t tell me) … You’ve figured out the score
(Show me, don’t tell me) … I’ve heard it all before
(Show me, don’t tell me) … I don’t care what you say
(Show me, don’t tell me)

You can twist perceptions
Reality won’t budge
You can raise objections
I will be the judge
(And the jury)

I’ll give it due reflection
Watching from the fence
Give the jury direction
Based on the evidence
I, the jury

Show…don’t tell…

(Show me, don’t tell me) … Hey, order in the court
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Let’s try to keep it short
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Enough of your demands
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Witness take the stand
(Show me, don’t tell me)

Show…don’t tell…

Show…don’t tell…

(Show me, don’t tell me) … Hey, order in the court
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Let’s try to keep it short
(Show me, don’t tell me) … I don’t care what you say
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Let’s see exhibit A
(Show me, don’t tell me) … You’ve figured out the score
(Show me, don’t tell me) … I’ve heard it all before
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Enough of your demands
(Show me, don’t tell me) … Witness take the stand
(Show me, don’t tell me)

I want ice water.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

What Is Love?

What is love? Hell, just like everyone else, my life has seen me alternate between being absolutely sure that I’ve got a complete grasp of the subject to being absolutely, and very uncomfortably, convinced that I haven’t got a clue. In an effort to represent these extremes within myself, I present the lyrics from one of my all-time favorite love songs and a video that clearly speaks for itself.

The song is Nights Winters Years from the album Blue Jays by Justin Hayward and John Lodge. The music is on the associated playlist.

Pain, sorrow, tears
Long, lonely years
With love
Having passed me by
I could live a lie for you
But truth is the road I choose
Knowing all I need to do
Is give to you

Down, down down
Where your dreams are found
They’re sleeping inside of us all
They’re sleeping inside of us all

Nights, winters, years
Pain, sorrow, tears of mine
Cannot hold me now
I’m a fool to fall for you
But here
In the morning light
Tell me how can love be wrong
And feel so right

And from the movie A Night At The Roxbury:

I want ice water.

Power!

While politics is always in the news, these days the political news seems to be at a fever pitch. Even this far after the history making elections of last year, the so called “battle for hearts and minds” rages on – in this country and around the world. Lately it’s been about the “radical right” and it’s influence here in the U.S., the resurgence of the conservatives in Europe, and the recent elections in Lebanon and Iran.

More than ever, the news from the political front reminds me of the song Power by The Temptations. Here are the lyrics and, as usual, the song is on the blog playlist.

My hands are clean, my heart is so pure
The world is sick, I am the cure
I don’t want money, or golden gifts
Give me your minds and souls to lift

Put your faith and trust in me
I’ll move your mountains, part your seas

All you poor, all you needy
All you’re doing, is giving to the greedy
All you poor, all you needy
All you’re doing, is giving to the greedy

Get off your knees, believe in me, I’ll set you free
All I need is a little
Power
I must have it
Power
Power
Power
Power
Power
Power

I have for you, a master plan, (tell it)
I’ll lead you to the promised land
I’ll give you peace (peace)
I’ll give you pride (pride)
I’ll save you from the suicide

I’m your hope
Your one salvation
I’m your one man united nation

All you poor, all you needy
All you’re doing, is giving to the greedy
All you poor, all you needy
All you’re doing, is giving to the greedy

Tell me your sins, I’ll be your friend, I won’t do you in
All I need is a little
Power
Power
Power
Power
Power
Power
Aahhh!

I’ll make you all, the master race
Just put me in my guarded place
We must work down on our feet
In the fields of oil and the lands of wheat

Power
More
Power
I want it
Power
More
Power

One thing I must make perfectly clear
Power
Nuclear weapons all men fear
Power
Their hands sweat, their fingers itch
Power
I’m the only one you can trust with the switch

Give it to me
Power
Power
Power
Power
Power
Give it to me
Power
More
Power
Give it to me
Power
More
Power
I need It
Power
Got to have it
Power
I must have it
Power
More
Power
Give it to me
Power
More
Power
Give it to me
Power
More
Power
More
Power
More
Power
More
Oh Whoa!
POWER!

I want ice water.

Reruns and Memories

I’m not sure why, but for whatever reason I find it difficult to watch re-runs of some of my favorite, if now defunct, TV shows. This is especially true for comedies. But sometimes there’s nothing else on so I watch one, and almost always end up wondering why I’d been denying myself the chance to renew a pleasure that I had sorely missed. A case in point is WKRP In Cincinnati. A ball game I was watching the other night was in a rain delay and I needed something else to watch that I wasn’t likely to get so wrapped up in that I forgot about the game, and WKRP was playing on the very next channel. Well I ended up watching two episodes back-to-back and missing the resumption of the game. I actually think the time was better spent.

Now I have no idea what the inner workings of a radio station are really like, but I do know that when I watched that show regularly I couldn’t imagine a better job than being a disc jockey. Getting to hear the latest releases before the world at large. Being myself before a huge audience while I’m actually alone in a protective shell of technology. Having an audience that actually wants to hear what I’m playing. What could be better than that? But watching WKRP In Cincinnati also brought back a great memory of an experience I had with a real, also now defunct, local radio station.

It was back in the late 90s and I was just beginning to come to grips with “my terrible illness.” Having been declared “unemployable” because of my reluctance to deal with the world outside my home, I had spent well over $4000 of my “retirement money” on computer equipment that I intended to use for a home-based business providing graphics and printing services to small businesses, as well as computer training to the neighborhood kids. Unfortunately, operating a business, any business, requires that you actually engage in an effort to gain clientèle, so I ended up mainly creating a lot of things to print out on my fancy new $750 color ink-jet printer.

Now don’t get me wrong, I was quite proud of the philosophical pronouncements and song lyrics – with graphics – that I was producing, but they hardly justified the enormous expenditures required to produce them. And trust me, having only a dial-up connection to what was then a very primitive world wide web didn’t help when it came to doing research. Unlike today, there weren’t zillions of sites to go to to get the lyrics for songs, so I reproduced them mainly from memory. And when memory failed, I reproduced them by listening to my old vinyl records over and over again until I was satisfied.

But I was stumped when it came to Don McLean’s American Pie. Like so many other “one hit wonders,” I hadn’t bothered to actually buy the record, so I was attempting to reproduce the lyrics entirely from memory. Unlike the therapeutic value I had gotten from mentally working out the lyrics to other songs, my attempt to do this with such a long and complicated song had rapidly become an exercise in self-torture. But like the fabled monkey with his fist in the jar, I simply could not let it go. Which is what gave me the idea to call up a radio station for help.

I think the station was called “Arrow” or something like that. They specialized in playing classic rock from the 60s and 70s, and seemed the perfect place to call for help. Unfortunately, the guy I talked to told me that their broadcasts were pre-programmed and that they only did requests on an infrequent basis. I guess he caught the disappointment in my voice upon hearing that, so he asked me what was up. Without really meaning to go into such detail, I told him about the depression and how I used working through the lyrics to my favorite songs as a kind of therapy.

Well to my absolute amazement, the guy actually offered to play the song for me over the phone, using a cassette deck he had in his office. He went even further by offering to rewind and replay all or any part of the song until I was happy. Needless to say, I will never forget his understanding and his generosity. I only wish I could remember his name.

I’ve included the lyrics to this song below (downloaded this time – I lost the ones I worked out long ago). I’ve also included the song itself on the associated music playlist.

American Pie by Don McLean

A long long time ago
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died

{Refrain}
So bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die

Did you write the Book of Love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so
Do you believe in rock ‘n roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow
Well, I know that you’re in love with him
‘Cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I digged those rhythm & blues
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died

I started singin’
{Refrain}

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone
But that’s not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the King and Queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me
Oh, and while the King was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
And while Lenin read a book of Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died

We were singing
{Refrain}

Helter Skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
It landed foul out on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the Sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance
‘Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died

We started singing
{Refrain}

Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation Lost in Space
With no time left to start again
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
‘Cause fire is the Devil’s only friend
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in hell
Could break that Satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing
{Refrain}

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
But the man there said the music woudn’t play
And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died

And they were singing
{Refrain}

They were singing
Bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

I want ice water.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Speaking Of Dreams...

Readers of this blog should be well aware that I’m not much for things religious, supernatural, paranormal, or superstitious. I’ve written much on these subjects in general, and about the influence that people who did believe in such things had on my youth. But until my recent Oh I Dreamed Last Night… article, I had written very little about my own actual experiences with such matters. In this article, I want to explore this just a little bit more.

The fact is that I’ve had many, many experiences that can be fit into these categories, with the vast majority being similar to what I described in the Oh I Dreamed Last Night… article. But unlike most, I prefer to maintain an open mind about these things rather than get into a lot of senseless speculation about what these experiences mean. After all, there are many rational explanations that can quickly reduce these experiences to nothing more than hallucinations and fanciful dreams. But they are interesting nonetheless.

One such experience started a few years ago when I had to be hospitalized due to a severe case of pancreatitis. Since I had already been diagnosed with the disease, and had been previously hospitalized (in intensive care) because of it, I was smart enough to recognize that I needed help when the symptoms came again. But from the point where they were wheeling me in to get a bed assignment to the point where I awoke from a medically induced coma (in a different hospital) some three weeks later, my memories are only of a series of very bizarre “dreams.”

I won’t attempt to recall the specifics of these dreams – after all, I could give only fractured reconstructions, other than to say that they involved extremely realistic experiences of living other lives in other worlds. So realistic were these experiences – so beautiful, so painful, and so awe inspiring, that I felt the most extreme sensation of loss that I have ever felt in my life when the doctors decided to bring me out of the coma. So shocking was my return to the “real” world, that even those in the room when I awoke could feel it. I know, because they told me so.

Obviously, what I experienced can easily be dismissed with a variety of “natural” explanations. The fact that I continue to experience such dreams can be just as easily dismissed for the same reasons. But I do continue to have them. And that’s also a fact.

I think that Heart’s These Dreams does a pretty good job of expressing some of the emotion I feel about this subject:

Spare a little candle
Save some light for me
Figures up ahead
Moving in the trees
White skin in linen
Perfume on my wrist
And the full moon that hangs over
These dreams in the mist

Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this
But all I remember
Are the dreams in the mist

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it’s cold outside
Every moment I’m awake the further I’m away

Is it cloak ‘n dagger?
Could it be spring or fall?
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it’s cold outside
Every moment I’m awake the further I’m away

There’s something out there
I can’t resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There’s something out there
I can’t resist

The sweetest song is silence
That I’ve ever heard
Funny how your feet
In dreams never touch the earth
In a wood full of princes
Freedom is a kiss
But the prince hides his face
From dreams in the mist

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it’s cold outside
Every moment I’m awake the further I’m away

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it’s cold outside
Every moment I’m awake the further I’m away

But perhaps When You Wake Up by Justin Hayward & John Lodge is a little more specific:

Now as we speed a little faster through the stars
To this new world of ours
With the seed that the garden requires

And as we drift a little further from the shore
Like the sea evermore
I’m the ivy that clings round your door

When you wake up
You will find
That you’re not where you left yourself

Ahhhh…
Ahhhh…

Now as we drift a little further down the stream
Was it all what it seemed
Was it true, was it real?
Or just a dream?

When you wake up
You will find
That you’re not where you left yourself

Ahhhh…
Ahhhh…

Now as we speed a little faster through the stars

Ahhhh…
Ahhhh…
Ahhhh………

I want ice water.

Song and Dance

I’ll now continue to use the mask (”somebody stop me”) of anonymity that this blog affords me to once again expose some of the inner workings of my admittedly twisted mind. Previous readers are no doubt aware of my affection for including lyrics from relevant songs in my articles, and would probably not be surprised that I’ve always wanted to be a singer. In actual fact, I’ve often fantasized about performing on stage in front of an audience of adoring fans.

But the sad truth is that no matter how great a singing talent anyone thought I was, I’d never have the nerve to actually get up in front of people and do it. Not even for an audience consisting of my closest family and friends. And this “shyness” also applies to dancing in front of people, even though I know – at least intellectually – that almost no one would notice. To gain some insight into the effect that my unwilling to dance has had on my life, you should give a read to my Love, Loss, Anger, and Faith article.

But my shyness certainly hasn’t prevented me from “performing” in private. Sure, I know that everyone sings along to their favorite songs. But I doubt seriously that anyone has gotten more enjoyment, not to mention psychic relief, from doing so as I have. And while my private dancing is much closer to “performance art” than anything you’re likely to see on a dance floor, I’d be willing to bet that no one on a dance floor gets the enjoyment and release I get from it. Being the extreme “homebody” that I am, it’s probably my only real source of exercise.

In an attempt to provide a feel for the “psychology” of my private sessions, I’m including the lyrics from two songs that I think act as great references for it. The first is Sing Child by Heart:

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

Melody Maker
Giver and taker
Heartbreaker
He want to sing I know
Try it again
Sooner or later
He gonna break down and sing

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

Holy junkie
Funky monkey
Everybody calls him honey
He gonna sing I know
He don’t want to play that game
He gotta play that game
Oh, honey, honey, honey,
You got to come down and sing

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

Dreamer
Machiner
What will you ever do when you blow a fuse
Don’t want to stay here
Honey roll
Sooner or later
You’ve gotta break down and sing

Sing child sing
Sing child sing

The second is I hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’,
Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.
I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone.)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance…. I hope you dance.
I hope you dance…. I hope you dance.
I hope you dance…. I hope you dance..
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone)

Finally, I’d like to address the fact that those who know me have always wondered about my willingness, as a man, to be so open with how I feel about things. In most cultures, certainly the African-American culture in which I was raised, such openness is considered to be a “female” trait. But those who know me are well aware that I am not “gay” and don’t behave in any other way that might be considered “feminine.” It’s just that I’ve grown up surrounded by men that I consider to have been badly damaged by their inability to rationally express their emotions. But I’d be lying if I said that this has not had an impact upon me as well. Hell, I’m practically a hermit.

Anyway, I think that Pink Floyd’s Paranoid Eyes provides some more insight into this issue:

Button your lip and don’t let the shield slip
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask
And if they try to break down your disguise with their questions
You can hide hide hide
Behind paranoid eyes

You put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide hide hide
Behind petrified eyes

You believed in their stories of fame fortune and glory
Now you’re lost in a haze of alcohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
And you hide hide hide
Behind brown and mild eyes

I want ice water.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Oh I Dreamed Last Night...

This is a partial reconstruction of a dream I had one night.

“Well that was a bust, wasn’t it?”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“Give yourself some time to recuperate.?”
“And to reflect.”
“You’ll feel better then.”
“But I really thought that I’d get it right this time!”
“Where have I heard that before?”
“From me.”
“And me.”
“And me.”
“And me as well.”
“How do you keep going back, when it ends like this?”
“Because every time through gets us a little closer.”
“To becoming what we want to be.”
“What we’re meant to be.”
“You have to admit that you’ve advanced quite a lot.”
“But I screwed up so much, and left so much undone.”
“Well, considering the limited timespan…”
“And with what little we carry forward…”
“The steps are incremental by necessity.”
“But worthwhile in the end.”
“Well it’ll be a while before I try again.”
“You’ll get bored soon enough.”
“And filled with ideas on how to do better.”
“You won’t be able to resist.”
“We never can.”

And speaking of dreams, I’m reminded of I Dreamed Last Night by Justin Hayward & John Lodge from their Blue Jays album:

“Oh I dreamed last night I was hearing, hearing your voice
And the things you said well they left me, left me no choice
And you told me we had the power
And you told me this was the hour
That you don’t know how
If I could show you now?

Well I dreamed last night you were calling, calling my name
You were locked inside of your secrets, calling my name
And you told me lost was the key
And you told me how you long to be free
That you don’t know how
Oh let me show you now

Like a bird on a far distant mountain
Like a ship on an uncharted sea
You are lost in the arms that have found you
Don’t be afraid
Love’s plans are made
Oh don’t be afraid

If there’s a time and a place to begin love
It must be now
Let it go
Set it free

Oh I dreamed last night I was hearing, hearing your voice
Why did you say those things that have left me, left me no choice?
When you told me we had the power
Why did you tell me now was the hour?
But you don’t know how
Oh let me show you now

Like a bird on a far distant mountain
Like a ship on an uncharted sea
You are lost in the arms that have found you
Oh don’t be afraid
Love’s plans are made
Don’t be afraid

If there’s a time and a place to begin love
It must be now
Let it go
Set it free

Oh I dreamed last night I was hearing, hearing your voice…”

I want ice water.


Tuesday, March 31, 2009

And The Band Plays On…

I got all riled up this evening when I heard of the death threats against AIG employees and their families. I immediately raced over to this old-hunk-o-junk PC of mine. I wanted to rail against the news media for getting this witch hunt started in the first place, and against those weak-kneed politicians that couldn’t resist piling on. I wanted to point out how, in the larger scheme of things, those guys at AIG are no more guilty than the rest of us who bought into this whole get very much for very little mentality that damned near sunk the whole she-bang.

Unfortunately this old-hunk-o-junk is so slow that I’ve had time to cool off a little - enough to realize that I’ve said it all before. So instead I’ve decided to simply let those good old boys of Rush say it for me, with their song…

Witch Hunt

The night is black
Without a moon
The air is thick, and still

The vigilantes gather on
The lonely torchlit hill

Features distorted in the flickering light
The faces are twisted and grotesque
Silent and stern in the sweltering night
The mob moves like demons possessed
Quiet in conscience, calm in their right —
Confident their ways are best

The righteous rise
With burning eyes
Of hatred and ill-will

Madmen fed on fear and lies
To beat, and burn, and kill

They say there are strangers, who threaten us
In our immigrants and infidels
They say there is strangeness, too dangerous
In our theatres and bookstore shelves
That those who know what’s best for us —
Must rise and save us from ourselves

Quick to judge
Quick to anger
Slow to understand

Ignorance and prejudice
And fear
Walk hand in hand

I want ice water

At Seventeen

As you might have gathered from the other articles about my personal life, as a child I was what some would call “a sensitive boy.” That is, those who wanted to be kind. The other boys usually weren’t. I prefer to think that I was just “more aware.” However I came to see things the way I did, as I neared seventeen I had had my fill of the opinions of those I knew about how things worked and how people should live. More than ever before, I looked for those I thought had something exceptional to say. One of those voices was that of Janis Ian, and her very timely song…

At Seventeen

“I learned the truth at seventeen.
That love was meant for beauty queens.
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles.
Who married young and then retired.

The valentines I never knew.
The Friday night charades of youth.
Were spent on one more beautiful.
At seventeen I learned the truth.

And those of us with ravaged faces.
Lacking in the social graces.
Desperately remained at home.
Inventing lovers on the phone.
Who called to say - come dance with me.
And murmured vague obscenities.
It isn’t all it seems at seventeen.

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs.
Whose name I never could pronounce.
Said - pity please the ones who serve.
They only get what they deserve.

And the rich relationed hometown queen.
Marries into what she needs.
With a guarantee of company.
And haven for the elderly.

Remember those who win the game.
Lose the love they sought to gain.
In debentures of quality and dubious integrity.
Their small-town eyes will gape at you.
In dull surprise when payment due.
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen.

(Instrumental)

To those of us who knew the pain.
Of valentines that never came.
And those whose names were never called.
When choosing sides for basketball.

It was long ago and far away.
The world was younger than today.
When dreams were all they gave for free.
To ugly duckling girls like me.

We all play the game, and when we dare.
To cheat ourselves at solitaire.
Inventing lovers on the phone.
Repenting other lives unknown.
That call and say - come dance with me.
And murmur vague obscenities.
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen.”

Being an almost seventeen year old boy living in the Black community, I naturally had no one to talk to about the impact this song had on me. I’m not sure if I could have explained how I could relate so strongly to a song about a girl and her problems anyway. But I did, and I still do.

I want ice water.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Dragged Down By The Stone

In the late 70's, during my first attempt at 'higher education,' I wrote an essay on how I thought that Pink Floyd's Animals was an accurate reflection of our society. Sadly, I don't have a copy to share with you today. I do however, find it sweetly ironic that now, some thirty-two years later, the Pigs are in the air with no place to land and the Dogs are in a drop-dead panic because the Sheep are on the rampage.

Please allow me to translate:

The Pigs are those whom we, for one reason or another, have granted 'positions of authority.' While they are mainly elected officials, all those who are looked to for leadership and guidance fall into this category as well.

The Dogs are those well-trained individuals who work so hard to squeeze every penny of profit they can out of the system we provide at the behest of the Pigs.

The Sheep includes pretty much everyone who are not Dogs or Pigs.

It is possible for a member of one group to move into another. And because of the 'special nature' of this wonder-land we live in, it is even possible for a player to exist in more than group at the same time. Isn't that cool?

Sadly though, there is trouble on the board. Paradise has turned into a ball of confusion. The Sheep are out for the Dogs blood now that they've realized their true place on the food chain. The Dogs are begging the Pigs for bail money now that their victims are circling around with leash / noose, in hand. And the Pigs are fluttering about like wounded ducks while simultaneously wagging their fingers at the Dogs and crying for the Sheep to have patience.

As Pink Floyd sang:

"Now it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone.
Dragged down by the stone."

Unfortunately, the 'you' in that prose might well be all of us.

I want ice water.

Update 3/20/09

I decided to update this article after watching John Oliver's (The Daily Show) stand-up performance on Comedy Central. With his being British and with Pink Floyd being British and with my fascination with that British accent - I think in a British accent at times don't you know, it just seemed appropriate that I include his closing thoughts as an update to this article.

John, and his comic 'scientist' sidekick, made the point that perhaps the reason the U.S. isn't working harder to solve the problems of the world is because the rules of this crazy game say that whoever is on top when the world ends must be declared the winner. Well for a die-hard fatalistic American patriot like myself, I had to consider that perhaps this was a good thing. It's just unfortunate that no one will be around to celebrate our glorious achievement.

Not being one to give up on fame and fortune at any cost, perhaps we can leave some sort of great American Monument bragging of said achievement for future alien visitors to find. That'll wipe the smirk off their proud little green planet-hopping faces!

I want ice water.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

On The Cover Of The Rolling Stone

Just like everyone else, I would like my moment in the sun. And I will gladly admit that this blog is my attempt to finally gain some recognition but for talents that I'm actually proud of. The drawback to my approach, of course, is that the web is crammed full of zillions of pages of stuff produced by people who think their work is worthy of attention as well. In fact, there are many, many examples of excellent sites that I can only hope to compete with.

However, just like all media these days, there is plenty of trash on the web as well. But I'm not mad, as I'm having a great time just learning how to do this. Besides, this whole thing started as a kind of public self-therapy journal anyway. To be honest, and with no insult intended towards anyone, I find much of the stuff I run across to be absolutely hilarious. The hilarity of it all reminds me of one of my favorite songs, On The Cover Of The Rolling Stone by Doctor Hook and The Medicine Show:

(No, I don't believe it, nah, nah, ah, oh...don't touch me. Hey Ray, hey sugar, tell 'em who we are)
Well, we're big rock singers
We got golden fingers
And we're loved everywhere we go..... (that sounds like us)
We sing about beauty and we sing about truth
At ten-thousand dollars a show..... (right)
We take all kinds of pills that give us all kind of thrills
But the thrill we've never known
Is the thrill that'll gitcha when you get your picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

(Rolling Stone.....) Wanna see my picture on the cover
(Stone.....)Wanna buy five copies for my mother..... (yeah)
(Stone.....)Wanna see my smilin face
On the cover of the Rolling Stone.... (that's a very very good idea)

I got a freaky ole lady name a cocaine Katy
Who embroideries on my jeans
I got my poor ole grey haired daddy
Drivin my limosine
Now it's all designed to blow our minds
But our minds won't really be blown
Like the blow that'll gitcha when you get your picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

(Rolling stone.....) Wanna see our pictures on the cover
(Stone.....) Wanna buy five copies for our mothers..... (yeah)
(Stone.....) Wanna see my smilin face
On the cover of the Rolling Stone
(talking) Hey, I know how
Rock and roll.....

[instrumental]
Ah, that's beautiful
We got a lot of little teenage blue eyed groupies
Who do anything we say
We got a genuine Indian Guru
Who's teaching us a better way
We got all the friends that money can buy
So we never have to be alone
And we keep getting richer but we can't get our picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

(Rolling stone.....)Gonna see my picture on the cover
(Stone.....) Gonna buy five copies for my mother..... (I want one)
(Stone.....) Gonna see my smilin' face
On the cover of the Rolling stone
On the cover of the Rolling.......
(Stone.....) Gonna see my picture on the cover
(talking) I don't know why we ain't on the cover, baby....
(Stone.....) Gonna buy five copies for my mother
(talking) We're beautiful first....
(Stone.....) Wanna see my smilin face
(talking) I ain't kiddin' ya, oh we would make a vulnerable cover....
On the cover of the Rolling stone......
(talking) fresh shot, right up front, man.....
I can see it now, we'll be on the front....
Smilin', Man......
Ahh, beautiful.......

I want ice water.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Heroes: Inspiration

Readers of this blog have heard me rail against organized religion and belief in the supernatural in general. You’ve also heard me preach about the benefits and necessity for rational thinking. But I hope that my strong belief in our potential - and my faith in our ability to live up to that potential - has been revealed as well. If this blog reveals nothing more about my character than this, then I will be satisfied.

All my life, I have searched for inspiration. From books like The Holy Bible, Atlas Shrugged, Time Enough For Love, and The Chronicles Of Thomas Covenant. From movies like The Ten Commandments, It’s A Wonderful Life, and The Day The Earth Stood Still. From TV shows like Gun Smoke, Law and Order, and Star Trek. And from the songs of groups like The Temptations, Pink Floyd, and Rush.

Another thing that should be clear from reading this blog is how I love to include the music and lyrics from songs that relate to what I’m talking about. The great thing about my favorite movies and TV shows is that they combine great visuals with great music. In this article, I will attempt to combine all three elements - the visual, the music, and the lyrics - from two of my all-time favorite TV shows: The Greatest American Hero and Star Trek: Enterprise.

I chose these shows because they represent my life-long desire to be, and to inspire others to be, a force for good in the world. The Greatest American Hero represents how being a hero is not always a matter of choice, and that mistakes can and will happen along the way. The entire Star Trek line-up represents what can happen when good people stand up and make the right choices. I’m hard pressed to find another SciFi collection that presents such a positive view of the future. Star Trek: Enterprise is the greatest of the line-up because it’s the closest in the time-line to where we are now, and therefore presents a more relevant look at the moral issues - both social and technological - that we face.

-

The Greatest American Hero
(Believe It Or Not by Mike Post and Stephen Geyer)

Look at what’s happened to me,
I can’t believe it myself.
Suddenly I’m up on top of the world,
It should've been somebody else.

Believe it or not,
I’m walking on air.
I never thought I could feel so free.
Flying away on a wing and a prayer.
Who could it be?
Believe it or not it’s just me.

It’s like a light of a new day,
It came from out of the blue.
Breaking me out of the spell I was in,
Making all of my wishes come true.

Believe it or not,
I’m walking on air.
I never thought I could feel so free-.
Flying away on a wing and a prayer.
Who could it be?
B
elieve it or not it’s just me.

-

Star Trek: Enterprise
(derived from the song Faith Of the Heart written by Diane Warren and sung by British opera star Russell Watson. This song was first featured in the film Patch Adams, performed by Rod Stewart)

It’s been a long road
Getting from there to here
It’s been a long time
But my time is finally here
And I can see my dreams come alive at night
I can touch the sky
And they’re not gonna hold me down no more
No they’re not gonna change my mind
(Chorus)
’Cause I’ve got faith of the heart
I’m going where my heart will take me
I’ve got faith to believe
I can do anything
I’ve got strength of the soul
No one’s going to bend nor break me
I can reach any star
I’ve got faith
I’ve got faith
Faith of the heart

I want ice water.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Ball Of Confusion - Revisited

I love the old Temptations song Ball Of Confusion and I’ve been waiting for quite a while for someone to do an updated version. Well I’m tired of waiting and will now tackle the task, at least the lyrics part, myself. My thanks to leoslyrics.com for the original lyrics.

Ball Of Confusion - Revisited

1, 2… 1, 2, 3, 4, Ow!

People moving out, foreclosures rolling in.
Why, because the bubble’s crashing in.
Run, run, run but you sure can’t hide.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
Vote for me and I’ll set you free.

Rap on, brother, rap on.

Well, the only person talking about love thy brother is the…(preacher.)
And it seems nobody’s interested in learning but the…(teacher.)
Muslim nations, immigration, regulation demonstrations,
Aggravating humiliation, prisons all around our nation.

Ball of confusion.
Oh yeah, that’s what the world is today.
Woo, hey, hey.

The sale of guns are at an all time high.
People walking round with that look in their eye.
The cities are strange in the summer time.

And oh, the beat goes on.

Evolution disillusion, oil controls the screamin’ polls.
No mo’ rockets to the moon, kids still growing up too soon.
Politicians say low taxes will solve everything.

And the band plays on.

So, round and around and around we go.
Where the world’s headed, nobody knows.
[Instrumental]
Hey Google user, can’t you hear me talking to you.

Just a ball of confusion.
Oh yeah, that’s what the world is today.
Woo, hey, hey.

Fear in the air, tension everywhere.
Unemployment rising fast, Obama sure got elected fast.
And there’s no safe place to live, we’re now a well armed nation.

And the band plays on.

Eve of destruction, tax reductions, bridge inspectors set new records,
New blood in demand, economics out of hand,
Genocides, diamond kills, investors running for the hills.
People all over the world are shouting, "End the wars."

And the band plays on.

[Instrumental]
Hey Google user, can’t you hear me talking to you.

Sayin’… ball of confusion.
That’s what the world is today, hey, hey.
Let me hear ya, let me hear ya, let me hear ya.

Sayin’… ball of confusion.
That’s what the world is today, hey, hey.
Let me hear ya, let me hear ya, let me hear ya,
Let me hear ya, let me hear ya.

Sayin’… ball of confusion.

I’m so proud, but it sure wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. So don’t forget my check when you decide to record it. I may be laughing now, but I’m still a Capitalist. :mrgreen:

I want ice water.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Singing The Blues

As I’ve said before, I suffer from depression. Sometimes the bottom just drops out, usually for no rational reason that I can discern. When I’m laying on the bottom of one of these downturns, it’s very difficult for me to do anything, let alone writing. As much as I would like to write about it while it’s happening, I’ve never been able to do so. I’ve just been through one of these phases and I want to share with you, as best I can, what it’s like.

The following is a list of Pink Floyd song lyrics that not only describe the feelings I have when I’m in the middle of one of these funks, but are the actual songs that I sometimes listen to - and sing along with - while it’s happening. Amazingly enough, these songs somehow help me get through it.

The last song, by Emerson, Lake & Palmer, represents my underlying desire to persevere and reclaim my hold on life.

Please note that whether you are reading this on Blogger or on WordPress, I have made it possible for you to listen to these songs. On Blogger, they’ve all been included as individual songs in the Blog Playlist in the sidebar. On WordPress, you’ll find the same playlist on the Songs for this Blog page.


Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall (Part III)

I don’t need no arms around me
I don’t need no drugs to calm me
I have seen the writing on the wall
Don’t think I need anything at all
Oh no! Don’t think I’ll need anything at all

All in all it was all just bricks in the wall
All in all you were just bricks in the wall



Pink Floyd - Goodbye Cruel World

Goodbye cruel world
I’m leaving you today
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye all you people
There’s nothing you can say
To make me change
My mind
Goodbye.



Pink Floyd - Hey You

Hey you!
Out there in the cold. Getting lonely, getting old,
Can you feel me?

Hey you!
Standing in the aisles with itchy feet and fading smiles,
Can you feel me?

Hey you!
Don’t help them to bury the light
Don’t give in without a fight.

Hey you!
Out there on your own sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?

Hey you!
With your ear against the wall, Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?

Hey you!
Would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I’m coming home.

But it was only a fantasy
The wall was too high as you can see
No matter how he tried he could not break free
And the worms ate into his brain.

Hey you!
Out there on the road always doing what you’re told,
Can you help me?

Hey you!
Out there beyond the wall, breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?

Hey you!
Don’t tell me there’s no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall.


Pink Floyd - Is There Anybody Out There

Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?


Pink Floyd - Nobody Home

I’ve got a little black book with my poems in
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I’m a good dog they sometimes throw me the bone in

I got elastic bands keepin’ my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
I got thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from

I’ve got electric light
And I’ve got second sight
I got amazing powers of observation

And that is how I know,
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you,
There’ll be nobody home

I’ve got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt

I’ve got nicotine stains on my fingers,
I’ve got a silver spoon on a chain
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

I’ve got wild staring eyes
And I’ve got a strong urge to fly,
But I got nowhere to fly to

Ooh, babe when I pick up the phone
There’s still nobody home

I’ve got a pair of Gohills boots
And I got fading roots


Emerson, Lake & Palmer - Still... You Turn Me On

Do you want to be an angel,
Do you want to be a star,
Do you want to play some magic on my guitar?
Do you want to be a poet,
Do you want to be my string?
You could be anything.
Do you want to be the lover of another
Undercover? you could even be the man on the moon.

Do you want to be the player,
Do you want to be the string?
Let me just tell you something,
It just don’t mean a thing.
You see it really doesn’t matter
When you’re buried in disguise
By the dark glass on your eyes,
Though your flesh has crystallized;

Still .... you turn me on.

Do you want to be the pillow where i lay my head,
Do you want to be the feathers lying in my bed?
Do you want to be a colour cover magazine;
Create a scene.
Every day a little sadder,
A little madder,
Someone get me a ladder.

Do you want to be the singer,
Do you want to be the song?
Let me tell you something
You just couldn’t be more wrong.
You see i really have to tell you
That it all gets so intense.
from my experience
It just doesn’t seem to make sense,

Still .... you turn me on.

Hmmn .... you turn me on.

Hmmn .... you turn me on.



I want ice water.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Tolerance... Not! Perfection

Because I had a tendency to hold up the process of testing and quality control on my job, my supervisor once remarked that, "if we waited for every system to be perfect, we’d never ship anything." I had to agree that he was right, but that doesn’t mean that I was ever comfortable with that idea. In fact, I later became the company’s technical writer mostly because the engineers were never able to design our products so that it was obvious how to operate them.

I’ve had such a problem dealing with the ramifications of my perfectionism - if you only knew the massive amounts of time I have spent just writing and editing these articles - that I think a look at the subject of human perfection is in order. As for the attitude that most people seem to take towards people like me, I think Pink Floyd’s song Not Now John is a fair representation:

"Fuck all that we’ve got to get on with these
Got to compete with the wily Japanese
There’s too many home fires burning and not enough trees
So fuck all that we’ve got to get on with these...


Not now John we’ve got to get on with the film show
Hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow
Who cares what it’s about as long as the kids go
So not now John we’ve got to get on with the show..."


Even those who aren’t so callous in their views on getting things done, most of whom owe their ’gentleness’ of attitude to a religious upbringing, think that it’s ’sinful’ somehow for a human to strive for perfection in the things he does or in his life in general. While I completely agree that things must get done and products must be shipped, I have a problem when it comes to avoiding the idea of human perfection altogether. How else do we continue to move up the evolutionary ladder?

I realize that some will object to my reference to evolution, but I made that reference specifically because of the fundamental conflict that exists between the various views on how we got where we are and how we will survive and move forward in the future. I have to wonder if those amidst this raging debate have ever considered that, regardless whether one thinks we got here through divine action or random happenstance, we absolutely need something better than the our interpretations of the past to guide us into the future.

Perhaps a start on that can be achieved through a good definition of just what a 'perfect human' would be. My personal view is that, since absolute perfection is impossible for beings who don’t possess the power of omniscience, human perfection is better thought of as a road on which those who strive for perfection must travel. And while the occasional detour is to be expected - after all, trial and error is a fundamental part of the learning process - striving to stay on the road is absolutely essential.

Those who would treat as weird those of us who tend towards obsession when it comes to getting things right should remember that all of those people in history that we hold up as examples of human greatness were considered weird for their obsessive behaviors as well. While I may never be considered qualified to stand amongst those great people, I have no doubt that they were just as disgusted as I now am at the way creative people are treated.

After all, if more people considered it their duty to travel down the road to perfection, then perhaps the rest of us wouldn’t have to be so obsessive about our own pursuits. If nothing else, we wouldn’t be such a rarity that we seem weird by comparison.

I want ice water.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Me No Know KeyMoSobbi - Part 5

Here are even more of those endless questions. You should now be hearing the theme music from 2001: A Space Odyssey. If not, try increasing the volume on your TV set.

1. Have you ever heard the song Shout by the group Tears For Fears? If you’ve ever wondered what this weblog is all about, you’ll find a large part of the answer there.

2. There once was a fictional story about The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly. Why does the real life story so often come down to the cute, the weak, and the petty? I feel a song coming on: "The unsung western hero. He killed an Indian or three. And he made his name in Hollywood. To set the White man free. Jesus save me." - Jethro Tull.

3. It’s been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Okay, we’re at the gates and they’re about to open. Who goes first? And yet another song: "Step right up. And don’t be shy. Because you will not believe your eyes." - The Tubes: She's A Beauty.

4. I’ve got to hand it to that Murphy guy. Not only did his laws provide all the warning we needed to avoid the monstrous pot hole we’ve all fallen into, but he’s completely unreachable by anyone wanting revenge for all the constant reminders. Isn’t that just too cool? The man sounds Noble Prize worthy to me.

5. As everyone rushes to jump on the bail-out bandwagon, I’m reminded of The Cars when they asked, "Who’s going to drive you home... tonight?"

6. As I write this, I am still without an Internet connection. I’m sure that there are many other people who’re in the same boat. So why does it appear that every business and TV station assumes we’re all connected? Perhaps they only care about those who are.

7. I don’t have a cable connection either, but I just love over-the-air commercial TV. Does anyone know how to enter deranged laughter into this thing?

8. I hate the fact that William Peterson is leaving CSI. But I felt the same way when Mandy Patempkin left Criminal Minds and that show is still going strong. So what the hell do I know? Maybe Lawrence Fishburne will make the show even better.

9. To quote the parrot from Aladdin: "Why am I not surprised" that the government’s forced conversion to DTV has turned out to be so badly managed?

10. Assuming the DTV conversion thing gets worked out, wouldn’t it be nice if it proves instrumental in breaking the high priced stranglehold the cable and satellite companies have on quality TV programming?

11. I saw a TV ad claiming that the makers of a child locator device trust only Duracell batteries in their product. I hate ads that try to use fear to sell products. In response, my twisted imagination spit out an alternate ending where the bad guy escapes in an electric car who’s makers also trust only Duracell batteries in their product. Am I sick or what?

12. Man I have got to get a life! I’m taking Styx’s Too Much Time On My Hands to unheard of new levels. Does anybody have one I can borrow?

13. Is any of this stuff funny? I’m too sober to tell. Maybe it’s all the caffeine, or the nicotine, or the lack of sleep...

14. PBS is advertising a new documentary about comedy. I know I haven’t seen the show yet, but could it possibly include anything more funny than Jim Lehrer trying to tell a joke?

15. Is it really fair to call a show Sex In The City when there’s no hard core action anywhere in it?

16. Does anyone really believe that the hot babes shown in those TV ads have nothing better to do than sit around chatting on the phone with a guy that can’t get a real date?

17. Is Judge Judy such a hard ass because she’s so old, the litigants are so stupid, or both? The latter would be my guess.

18. Where do I get a ticket to see Judge Judy do that bionic-superwoman-in-heels stunt live?

19. During his final press conference, President Bush said that another terrorist attack is still one of the greatest challenges to be faced by the incoming Obama administration. Do you think that the terrorists would be stupid enough to attack us now considering the likelihood that Obama’s popularity would cause the rest of the world to rise against them as never before? But then again, maybe the rest of the world is even more stupid than the terrorists.

20. Am I the only one who would have stood up and cheered if Bill Clinton had answered the attacks against him with, "Yeah, I had me some fun with that woman. Now I’ve got to answer to Hillary. Lord help me! So I will thank you to keep your damn noses out of our private lives, you ambulance chasing dogs!"

I want ice water.

Me No Know KeyMoSobbi - Part 4

Here are yet more of those endless questions.... Yadabing, yadaboom. You know how this goes.

1. Why do people insist that Robin Hood was a thief who robbed from the rich to give to the poor, when the story was actually about a man fighting to regain the riches stolen from him by the government? Equality by any means is Not the same as fighting for a just cause.

2. I heard that some ’great thinkers’ once debated the number of angels that could stand on the head of a pin. How did people stupid enough to waste their time like that ever learn to count in the first place?

3. People whine and complain about how they suffer from other people’s second-hand smoke. Who do I complain to about all the second-hand bull crap I have to put up with?

4. Why are Israelis and Palestinians killing each other over land that would be considered worthless by any other that mystical standards?

5. In the song The Last Resort, The Eagles said that when you "call some place paradise, you kiss it goodbye." History proves just how true this statement really is. But why?

6. Just because I live in Ohio, is it really fair that I’m limited to watching the Cincinnati Bungles and the Cleveland Clowns on Sunday? Maybe when I’m all growed up and rich and stuff, I’ll be able to get that NFL Sunday Ticket on Direct TV!

7. If we really want to get rid of racism, shouldn’t we just force everyone to make babies with someone of a different race? Nah! It wouldn’t work. We’d just replace racism with ’shadism.’

8. For those who want to guarantee the ’purity’ of their race, may I suggest in-breeding? Oh wait. That’s how you got to be that way to begin with. No, I’m not just being facetious. The races quite literally evolved over the millennia through isolated groups breeding only within their group.

9. Why are people just now realizing that they can save money by re-using their sandwich bags? While I don’t have much use for sandwich bags, I’ve been washing and re-using my resealable storage bags for years. Not only do I save money this way, but it’s ’eco-friendly’ to boot.

10. Why do people keep shooting each other? Haven’t they ever heard about lead poisoning? Okay, I know it’s a lame joke and also two questions, but I’m just a kid at heart. What do I know? "Oops I did it again..."

11. If, as Rush says in Entre Nous, "The spaces in between leave room for us to grow." Then why do we fill those spaces with barriers to prevent us from growing together?

12. If, as Pink Floyd says in Your Possible Pasts, "I was just a child then. Now I’m only a man." When do I get to be more?

13. I think it’s so unfair to burden our children with being ’the hope for our future.’ Wouldn’t it be better to inspire them by demonstrating that we are ’the hope for their present?’

14. We adults don’t like talking to our kids about a ’sensitive’ subjects like sex. And we damn well won’t allow other adults to talk to them about it either. But do we really think that our kids are better off learning about sex from other, equally ignorant, kids on the streets and playgrounds?

15. Why is it that, no matter how long I’ve waited for a bus, it always comes right after I light a cigarette?

16. Will someone please tell me just what kind of mighty morphin’ movie magic was used to transform our system of Justice Tempered By Mercy into the system of Mercy Tempered By Justice we have now?

17. If it’s true that sweet attracts more flies that sour, then why does a steaming pile of crap have them both beat hands down?

18. I may be an Unbeliever, but I absolutely support the right of a doctor or pharmacist to refuse to provide what they consider to be legal yet morally objectionable services, as long as they don’t act to prevent other doctors and pharmacists from doing so. My only question is: Why deny this freedom to other business owners regardless of their reasons? I don’t want to do business with someone who thinks I’m a piece of crap, and a truly free society will always have those who care more about my money and less about my politics.

19. With the ’bad economy’ causing so much downward pressure on both wages and prices, I wonder if we could’ve avoided some of this trouble by not being so greedy in the first place? If so, then perhaps there’s nothing ’wrong’ with our economy at all and this is all simply a ’market correction.’

20. The next four items can be categorized as "But why Daddy? Because I said so!" or "Do as I say, not as I do!"

a. Considering how we treat the rich as if they couldn’t possibly have earned their wealth, should we really be surprised when only those who’ll take it any way they can get it seek to be rich?

b. After spending so much effort denigrating the legal and political professions, why should anyone be surprised that the people willing to go into them are also the kind of people who can be tempted into corruption?

c. After spending so much time, effort, and money criminalizing the activities of millions of Americans, why should anyone be surprised that our society is now filled with outlaws?

d. After making it the sworn duty of our police to arrest people who have harmed no one other than themselves, why are we then surprised when the resulting conflict of interest leads to corruption and dereliction of duty?

The following should be read as if spoken by Walter Cronkite. ’And so it ends for now. Join us again next time for more questions from the ridiculous to the profound on...’

I want ice water.

Me No Know KeyMoSobbi - Part 3

Questions, questions everywhere, but I do wonder if anyone cares.

1. I loved reading Ayn Rand’s novel Anthem, as well as the beautiful tribute to it by Rush in 2112. In the book, however, society had devolved to the point where candles were amongst their greatest accomplishments. This was because they had rejected the philosophical basis on which a technological society must stand. In contrast, 2112 described a society dominated by a ruling class that used technology to enforce the same philosophical denials found in Anthem. This issue is important to me because I see signs of the same type of devolution happening in the real world, as evidenced by the dwindling numbers of young people taking up careers in the very disciplines used to build our modern world. Now, having an electronics background and a continuing interest in computers, I know that self-maintaining systems could one day become a reality. So my question is this: Could such a philosophically backwards society as that described in 2112 ever exist?

2. Ever since reading Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, I have been intrigued by the motor invented by the character John Galt, which ran on energy drawn directly from the Earth’s atmosphere. The few people I’ve discussed this with have all responded that such a device was impossible. But mankind has a long history of accomplishing things previously thought to be impossible. So I’m not so easily dissuaded. The way I see it, what we call ’weather’ is just nature’s rather chaotic way of seeking to balance the enormous energies produced by the even more enormous forces at work in, on, and around our planet. And if you’ve ever seen lightning you know that tapping into those energies is possible. The Earth does it thousands of times a day. Given that, wouldn’t you agree that it would be worthwhile to do some research into what could possibly be an unlimited source of energy and a way of taming the weather?

3. Now I believe that a person has an inviolate right to do anything with his money he wants, but I have been seeing almost the same ads asking for help for the starving kids of the world since I was a poor kid myself. Yet there seems to be more starving kids in the world than ever before. What’s up with that? I thought we’d figured out what causes kids.

4. This ’question’ is inspired by the TV show The Mentalist, which is on as I write. The way the main character, Jane(?), uses keen observation and deductive reasoning to solve mysteries puts him on par with Mr. Holmes himself. The particular thing that inspired me to rush to the keyboard was the response he gave when a cop mistakenly, and with typical disdain, referred to him as "that Psychic she’d heard about." I suppose the writers thought that the air of mysticism they cloak the guy in adds more appeal to the show, but having him answer, "There are no such things as Psychics." was just the perfect touch. Perfect because I feel like I’ve spent my entire life fighting to stay sane while drowning in a virtual sea of mysticism and superstition. Now with all this in mind, just how do you think that I have ’known,’ since I was a kid in the 70’s, that we were headed for both religion-inspired warfare and economic disaster? And trust me, we ain’t seen nothing yet. I really hope I’m wrong, but I haven’t been so far.

5. There was recent news that a Chinese company will soon market an electric car at roughly half the price of the much heralded Chevy Volt. The company’s automotive venture stems from it’s roots in the manufacture of, believe it or not, cell phone batteries! Could it be that we’d have been better off investing in Eveready rather than bailing out the auto industry? Maybe they could call their new car The Energizer Bunny! It keeps going and going...

6. On the subject of driving, wouldn’t a reckless driver be more accurately described as a ’wreckfull’ driver? Okay, my spell checker kind of spoiled this one a little. I actually thought the word was spelled ’wreckless.’ But damn it, the principle still matters!

7. On the subject of misused words, why do we call a someone who works hard to care for the things most important to him ’selfless’ and someone who apparently couldn’t care less ’selfish.’ Why if I didn’t know better... Hey wait. I don’t know better! Someone is trying to steal my self. Doe! That’s like the soul, right?

8. Regardless of how I may feel about the military or my experiences therein, it still pisses me of to hear people toss around words like ’service’ and ’sacrifice’ as if their experiences could in any way meet the definitions known all too well by those who have either survived, or have lost loved one to, real suffering. Just what do people think those words mean?

9. If a mother calls it a ’sacrifice’ to buy her kid new shoes for school instead of new kicks for herself to go clubbing, doesn’t that mean that she values her kicks more than she values her kid?

10. If harm to any part harms the whole, then why do we consider it a ’duty’ to give ’til it hurts?

I want ice water.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Tolerance... Not! Racism

Because of the profound effect that this issue has had on me personally, deciding how to tackle the subject of racial intolerance has been a difficult task. Growing up in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s as the offspring of racially mixed parents has provided me with more than a little experience with racism. So much so that I hardly know where to begin. But I know that in order to give this issue a fair and rational review, I must be willing to set aside the emotions evoked by it. As one who suffers from depression, brought on in part by my experiences in this area, I hope that you can understand why this is difficult for me. I’m certainly no Mr. Spock, but I do know to use reason and logic to get at the root of a problem.

The first thing to be done is to untangle of all the imagery and confusion that any discussion of race is bound to provoke. Now everybody knows about America’s history involving the enslavement of Blacks. And while there is absolutely no way to excuse that, it is helpful to remember that Blacks represent just one case in a very long history of similar travesties committed by Man. In fact, I think you’d have a hard time finding any group that hasn’t been similarly mistreated at one time or another. Next we must realize that many acts considered to be racially motivated have actually been motivated by what is commonly called peer pressure. I call it collectivist politics.

Anyone who has spent much time with other people, and I’ve had just about enough, has to have noticed that a person’s behavior can be profoundly influenced by those around them. Only an idiot actually believes that a person deserves to be mistreated because of his skin color. But even an idiot knows he can be outcast if he doesn’t get with the program. This same logic applies whether the issue involves race, religion, ethnicity, sexual preference, or the side of the tracks one was born on. So you see the real issue is not racism at all. This is behavior motivated by collectivist politics - the evil acts of one group against another as justified by the mere fact that the first group is stronger and the other group is ’different.’

When I was a little kid in Charleston, West Virginia, the police would routinely conduct these brutal sweeps to clear the streets of my neighborhood. All of the cops were White. All of those arrested were Black. I’d like to believe that this was done to keep homeless drunks from causing trouble, but that could just be wishful thinking. During this same period I was often the butt of jokes about how I would eventually try to pass myself off as White. As you can probably imagine, discovering that people thought that way about me was not only confusing, but damn scary as well.

In 1965, during a car trip back from spending Christmas in Florida with my father, I got locked inside a White owned restaurant in Georgia. Being a naive little boy, I had run ahead to be the first one inside. I was so busy spinning on one of the bar stools that I didn’t even notice that the doors had been locked after I came in, to keep my dad and his girlfriend out. Because of my appearance, no one inside realized that I was with them until I ran to the door my dad was pounding on. I’m not sure if I was more afraid of being locked inside or of what my father would do if they didn’t open the door. Those poor fools had no idea of the kind of man there were keeping from his son. Fortunately, an apologetic waitress let me out and my dad’s girlfriend was able to talk my dad into just leaving.

In 1966 the country apparently went nuts from all the racial tension. Because I still had a small shred of innocence left in me, my first knowledge of this came when my Black friends decided that we should leave our elementary school in protest. Unfortunately, the only White friend I had at the time had been assigned, as playground monitor, to prevent kids from wandering off. Because I was so desperate to be considered genuinely Black for a change, I allowed myself to be pressured into being the one to remove ’the White obstruction to our freedom.’ He was just a good kid trying to do what he was assigned to do, so he refused. It was then, out of embarrassment and frustration, that I committed one of the most shameful acts of my life by punching him in the stomach. I was so disgusted with myself that I couldn’t even leave with the others. I’m not sure why he didn’t report me, but I lost a good friend forever.

In 1968, while living in Los Angeles, I was jumped by two Black kids because according to them, and unbeknownst to me, their classroom was at war with my classroom. That got me started on the path from being the sixth grade salutatorian to being one of the world’s worst truants. When Dr. King was murdered a few months later, I was terrified at the prospect of looking so White while living in an all Black community. This was because there were rumors about Black gangs venting their wrath on Whites.

In 1969, while I was riding a bicycle a few blocks from home, some Black people sent their dog after me. When they discovered that they actually knew me, after I had fallen and broken my arm, they said that they’d only done it because they thought I was White. After that I went almost nowhere, let alone to school. With truancy being a such big issue with the government, and with my attitude turning more negative by the day, I became more ’trouble’ than my Sister wanted to deal with. So she shipped me back to my Mom in Ohio.

All of these things can be attributed to racism, and it’s clear to me that the stupidity operates in all directions. However, they can also be attributed to collectivist thinking motivating a desire to impress one group at the expense of others. That was certainly the case when I punched my friend in the stomach.

If you’ve read my Opening Rant article, then you’re familiar with my belief that each of us thinks and acts according to the personal philosophy we have chosen to guide us - whether we’re conscious of that choice or not. And Collectivism is the most dangerous kind of philosophy precisely because it’s so nebulous and unspoken - exactly what appeals to the masses who can’t be bothered to look beyond the moment. Simply stated, Collectivism allows that anything is okay so long as it can be justified as ’necessary’ by those powerful enough to impose their will. While it has been used historically to dominate Autocracies and Theocracies, it’s most commonly found in the form it takes in today’s so-called Democracies.

Now please don’t misunderstand me. I believe that democratic rule can be the ideal form of government. But we’ll never achieve that ideal so long as the majority simply bow to collectivist politics because they’re too stupid or too afraid to object. Let’s take a look at where this type of thinking as gotten us so far, shall we.

Apparently, just about everyone said the Hebrews were inferior. Voila! Hebrews were persecuted for many, many years!

The Roman and the Jews said the Christians were dangerous. Voila! Christians were persecuted for many, many years!

The Christians said the Holy Land must be purged. Voila! We got Crusaders!

The Muslims said the Holy Land must be purged. Voila! We got Jihad!

The Whites proclaimed Manifest Destiny. Voila! Ethnic cleansing of Native Americans!

The Whites said that Blacks were inferior. Voila! 400 years of Black enslavement!

The Nazis said the Jews should be exterminated. Voila! Fire up the ovens!

During WWII, the majority said we just can’t trust them slant eyes. Voila! Americans in concentration camps!

After WWII, the majority said that the Jews deserve their promised land. Voila! Israelis in, Palestinians out!

Muslim extremists decided to attack The Great Satan. Voila! We got 9/11!

The U.S. retaliated for 9/11. Duh? We go to war in Iraq? Doe!

And let us not forget those ’special’ cases where those imposing their will didn’t seem so dangerous. Voila! We got Rioters, Bombers, Snipers, Terrorists, and School Massacres!

Just in case you thought there was none, let’s now take a look at how this kind of thinking affects the economy.

The majority said the wealthy should pay more taxes. Voila! We got a progressive tax scale!

The wealthy hired lawyers to fight against excessive taxes. Voila! We got tax sheltering and tax evasion!

The majority said the poor should pay less taxes. Voila! The primary users of government services pay almost nothing for them!

The majority said we shouldn’t use ’illegal’ drugs. Voila! We got ourselves a drug war on all fronts and a prison system bursting at the seams - very expensive!

The majority said we should unleash the power of Wall Street so everyone can pay less taxes. Voila! We got economic disaster!

The majority screamed, "DO SOMETHING." Voila! It’ll take generations to pay off all this debt!

If you were to ask anyone in the majority if they were wrong when these decisions were being made, the response would almost certainly be a resounding "Hell no! Just ask anybody!" Those who suffer from these ’high minded’ decisions would of course be dismissed as ignorant scum who’s opinions don’t count anyway. And most of them were usually too ignorant or too afraid to speak out anyway. Remember the little boy who dared to ask why the Emperor was naked? The sad fact is, if you searched through all of history, you’d have a hard time finding a single man-made disaster that didn’t have some sort of collectivist rationale behind it.

As far as the treatment of Blacks in America is concerned, our great leaders - the Black leadership as well as the federal government - have merely tried to replace one collectivist nightmare with another. It must be remembered that every one of the state and local governments that looked so bad during the civil rights movement were financed by public funds. But instead of passing - and enforcing - laws that would have made it impossible for them to use tax money for racially biased policies, our leaders - with complete approval from the majority - have simply instituted a racially based ’quota system’ in it’s place.

Again, it must be remembered that the majority of Whites were actually behind the civil rights movement, even if many were afraid to show it. Laws that would have taken away the power of local government to enforce the ’peer pressure’ of a powerful minority on them was all that they needed to speak out. But instead of actually leveling the playing field by guaranteeing the individual’s right to decide who deserves his or her support, the federal government has wasted many billions of dollars on a collectivist bureaucracy founded on institutionalized racism.

The bottom line is that what we call racism is only one of the countless faces of collectivist politics. And if we want to have better relations between any of the various groups on Earth, we’re going to have to rid ourselves of the profound stupidity that stands in the way: Collectivism. If President Obama is as smart as he seems, he’ll focus the spotlight on the real issues and not allow it to be pointed at something so trivial as the color of his skin.

After all, everyone will be nicely tanned in the future. Deal with it!

A good metaphor for how we've dealt racism in this country can be found in The Trees by the group Rush.

I want ice water.