Category: God Bless America

Tests of what?

An obituary appeared in the newspaper a few days ago for Reg Murphy, who was a newspaper editor at The Atlanta Constitution, among other jobs and publications. He passed away recently at the age of 90. What interested me was a story about him that happened in 1974, which is why I don’t remember it at all. (I was ten.) So one day, while at the paper Mr. Murphy was contacted by a man “identified as William A.H. Williams, a drywall subcontractor.” Mr. Williams reached out to Mr. Murphy ostensibly about 300,000 gallons of heating oil he wanted to donate “to a worthy cause.”

It was all rather odd and he wanted Mr. Murphy to go to his lawyer’s office to sign some papers, but as Mr. Murphy said, he went along because it was important and usual “for newspapermen to have to lead open lives and be available to anonymous or strange people.” Strange indeed. Once Mr. Murphy was in the car, Mr. Williams brandished a gun and said, “Mr. Murphy, you have been kidnapped.” Why? It’s going to sound very familiar. First, he said he was a “‘colonel in the American Revolutionary Army’ and ranted against the ‘lying, leftist, liberal news media’ and ‘Jews in the government.'” Murphy by the way was a moderate in politically.

But what the hell? It’s the same shit people are slinging right now. This was 50 years ago! When are we going to grow up? Lump all Jews into a single stereotype and bitch about the so-called liberal media? Great. I think it’s time we put away this way of thinking and acting.

What? They won? Oh. The dog caught the car. This is going to get interesting. However, …

Jews, immigrants, people of color, gay people, sick people, artists, disabled people, poor people, incarcerated people, and decent, liberal white folks, do you understand that the federal government, beginning in January, is actually openly gunning for you? For who you are, what you stand for, how you love, where you worship or come from?

I hope so. Because without you viscerally experiencing the very real fear, danger and anger you should be experiencing right now, and doing something about it, we’re screwed as a nation; and as individuals who do not, for whatever arbitrary reason, live up to the very real and very bizarre physical, mental, emotional, sexual, political, religious and whatever else set of creepy-ass tests of character or personhood or deserving of being treated nicely, or whatever the fuck they make up and use to judge everyone else.

Sit on your hands on the buses of life, blushing at all the apple stealers. That’s a paraphrase, I think, of Davie Bowie. This is not: And then one day, the apple stealers show up with guns.

I don’t buy it

This is from the Bible.
Proverbs 6:16-19

“There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.“

Hey! Did you hear Don Trump’s hawking Bibles? Yep. He is. That’s going well.

Tenacious Pugnacious

Growing up there was a woman who lived alone in an old house a block over named Mrs. Guggisberg. I shoveled her walk in the winter. She looked exactly like a Mrs. Guggisberg. She was short and odd, to an eight-year-old neighbor kid. And kind of mean.

Once she asked me to look after her dogs for a few days and I did but I hated her dogs. When I went to the door for my dollar after shoveling, they’d be all up in the doorway, barking and yipping and spinning and loud as hell. And they were ugly. Pugs. Three of them.

Pugs are all smashed face and butthole, with whacked out eyes, fat, little football bodies and legs like tiny twigs. They snort and gag and wheeze – they can’t fucking breathe. (Thanks to human breeders.) And these were mean. When I was feeding them for her, they would attack me. I’d open the door and they’d already be there barking and I’d have to kick at them to get them to move back and work my way into the kitchen, put the dog food in the bowls, change the water, and head back out the door – all the while swinging my legs around to keep the hounds at bay. And the buttholes, put your fucking tails down, you weirdos!

And I had to do that for three days. And they never let up. They are tenacious little piglets. And probably just fucking with me.

Okay, people love dogs. I do, too. And you get into trouble when you badmouth a dog breed, which is why I’m now wondering if my rant about the misshapen, mistaken and poorly designed corgi, the Ikea dog (got the right top, but the wrong legs) might muster more backlash than the pugly pugs bit? I think so. People really love their corgis. And tenacious? You could throw a tennis ball for 24 hours and a corgi would bring it back every single time.

Buds

A couple of people asked me what the hell this is. It’s a voice inside my head, the loser me, the guy always trying to fit in. The bit about mooching the money is not me. I don’t think. Can I just say it was very strange to write it down? And not a little embarrassing?

Ha ha! It’s fun to be with you guys, I mean, that’s obvious! We’re just like, ‘hey, man’ and ‘what’s going on’ and stuff. Just chillin’. Everybody’s all ‘wha?!’ you know? ha ha! So, what is up? Wanna go to one or your guys’s cribs? Check it out, you know, ‘what’s up?’ Be all ‘sweet crib!’ Yeah, no, we could go to my place but it’s so small, we’d be all over each other, I mean, and we’re buds but not that kind! ha ha! Man, especially, anyone got any brews at home? That’d be sweet! We’d be all ‘wha?!’ Hanging out and shit! Drinking some brewskis! Ha. Hey! Shit. I was gonna ask, I left my wallet at home and if anyone can front me five bucks, that’d be sweet! I’d be paying it right back, I’ll be all, ‘what’s up?’ be like, ‘cash on the barrel head, bitches!’ right? so if anyone can, just let me know. Later’s cool! Ha. So are we going to hang out? That’d be sweet. A bite to eat. That rhymes! ‘that’d be sweet, a bite to eat!’ We’re all like, ‘wha?!’ be hanging out and stuff. Anyone hungry? Grab a little nosh? ‘what’s up?’ ha ha. Not to use a big word, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t invite you guys to my place in the very near future! It’d be sweet, be all, ‘wha’s up? want to par-tay?’ Hell yeah! So where do you guys want to go? There’s some good movies out nowadays. We could get some tix, poppycorn and bevies? ‘what’s up?’ be all, ‘I’ll take the biggest tub you got, homey!’ ha ha. So, movie sound groovy? Ha! I’m a freaking poet! ‘Four score and …’ wait! no! shit! That’s not poetry – it’s the Constitution! Damn! Everybody’s all, ‘wha? make up your mind, dumbshit!’ how many times I’ve heard that – my mom and my dad, that is, when he’s actually home, but, oh, shit! What am I doing? You guys are all like, ‘what about your dad, you loser!’ ha. Anybody got any brothers and sisters and shit? Hey! We gonna head out or what? Not that I don’t love hanging out here in the freezing cold – ha ha – you guys all got real winter gear. This beauty’s a wind breaker and it ain’t breaking any wind! It’s freaking cold out here! Wait a minute, isn’t breaking wind like farting? I mean, doesn’t it mean it? That’s hilarious! Good news, guys, my wind breaker ain’t breaking any wind! But someone here is! You all smell that? Be all, ‘Damn dude! That’s rank!’ and shit. Let’s roll! I mean, get on the road. ha ha it’s cool hanging out with you cats! Ha! Cats! You all be all, ‘you hang out with cats, dork?’ ha ha Then my cat will just disappear one day – poof! from the backyard. Dad didn’t bother to look for her. It was his day off. Ha! Just joshing! Be all, ‘I’m fucking with you!’ If you pardon my French! Ha! Damn. So, if anyone does have five buckaroos, that’d be sweet! I mean, I could probably get by with a little less, but, I mean if no one’s sporting a fiver, I totally understand. But one of you fuckers must be able to spot me! Ha! I’d pay it right back, I’d bring it right to your place – special delivery! So, I need the cash for medications for my mom who’s totally wondering where the heck I am! I’d be all, ‘Put a lid on it, old lady!’ ha. ‘wha?!’ But I should probably skedaddle – anyone able to… Naw, I get it. I’m totally cool with… Where are… Okay! Cool! See you guys! Cats! ha ha. cats.

Faux Poverty

I was walking around Lake and Hennepin in Minneapolis with my girlfriend back in the 80s and we watched an expensive BMW come around a corner. The trunk popped and a young man, dressed in ratty shorts and t-shirt with old flip-flops, and shaggy messy hair, jumped out of the passenger seat, opened the trunk, pulled out a beat-up skateboard and skated off.

A while later and a block away that same young man came skating up to us and asked, “Hey, man, you got a quarter?” I said, “Hey, man, you got a ‘Beamer?” And he rolled off.

Was it the hippies who inaugurated what my dad referred to as, “faux poverty”? Dad was a surgeon back then and he just loved to mock the very idea of people with plenty of money dressing like they had none at all. He had a field day with the new trend of pre-torn jeans, produced, marketed and actually torn by huge, multi-national, highly profitable corporations.

I’m guessing it was the hippies, but no doubt it was a statement about poverty and our consumer society for them. Hippies liked to make statements and if you look back over time, they were pretty much always right. But they made it cool and it made its way to artists, musicians and the like, who were then aped by those who adored them.

Like me. The surgeon’s kid. That’s how I dressed as a teenager (and I still do on occasion but mostly when I’m painting). The only difference back then was that you couldn’t yet buy ripped jeans so we had to wait for ours to fall apart or wear the oldest pair we had. It staggers the imagination just how quickly a teenager can wear out a pair of jeans, by the way. You could have a properly ripped knee in a few months. On another note, it was the seventies and I had jean shorts that were cut so high that the only thing between my legs was the seam. The pockets, often filled with bubble yum (or a film canister and pinch hitter), would hang down and out from beneath the material. Lovely.

And it’s still going on, of course. But you do grow out of it. You realize you look kind of stupid (unless you’re in a rock band) looking that way. I wonder just how many rock bands shot their gritty black and white photos in industrial areas, junk yards and abandoned buildings. (I was involved in a shoot like that, too.) Then you skedaddle back to the shag-carpeted, split-level home with a comfy bedroom featuring a Marantz stereo system with glowing blue dial, Magnaplaner speakers, black lights and rock posters of poor looking, exceedingly wealthy rock stars.

Why do we do that?

Real Dialogue

From the NYT.

I didn’t respect them.

But I did respect respect others. I respected many others that said the election was rigged.

My instincts are a big part of it.

That’s been the thing that’s gotten me to where I am, my instincts. But I also listen to people.

There are many lawyers. I could give you many books.

It was my decision. But I listened to some people.

Cut and Paste

“Leaves are staying on the trees of northwestern Ohio a month longer than they did a century ago.”

And

“The number of stars visible in the sky will fall by 60 percent in the next eighteen years.”

And

“…and windy outdoor conditions were worsening bacterial contamination on chicken farms in the America West.”

And

“Five-year-olds will believe a trustworthy robot over an unreliable human, even if the robot is shaped like a truck.”

Too many Americans continue to believe in the trucks long past five years old.

From Harpers Magazine, “Findings”, June 2023.

Right!

“What we measure is the Earth kind of moving in this sea. It’s bobbing around — and it’s not just bobbing up and down, its bobbing in all directions,” said Michael Lam, an astrophysicist at the SETI Institute and a member of the North American Nanohertz Observatory for Gravitational Waves (NANOGrav),*

I was thinking about joining NANOGrav. 😐

*I’ll find the source if anyone wonders.

Rooting out a Comet

This is all George Carlin as quoted in Lapham’s Quarterly (sign up and support it if you can), which is an amazing publication bringing in old and new writings on a quarterly theme, and in this case, Freedom:

“I found a very liberating position for myself as an artist. And that was I sort of gave up on the human race and gave up on the American dream, and culture, and nation, and decided that I didn’t care about the outcome. And that gave me a lot of freedom from a kind of distant platform to be sort of amused, kind of to watch the whole thing with a combination of wonder and pity, and try to put that in words…Not having an emotional stake in whether this experiment with human beings works.”

Then: “I root for the big comet, I root for the big asteroid to come and make things right…I’m rooting for that big one to come right though that hole in the ozone layer because I want to see it on CNN…Philosophers say, Why are we here? I know why I’m here. The show. Bring it on… We’ve seen a lot of comedians who seem to have a political bent in their work, and always implicit in the work is some positive outcome, that this is all going to work. If only we do this, if only we pass that bill, if only we elect him. It’s not true.”

“It’s circling-the-drain time.”

Wow. And don’t it feel just like that sometimes? I watched the most surreal thing I’ve seen in years of the Tennessee, I believe, House of Representatives, kicking three of their members out for disrupting for a moment during session (then they called recess) but continuing on arguing that they, the house, needed to deal with children being exploded into flying flesh, bone and brain, with AR-15s. These were two very young representatives and they made the point that this is their future and deserved for it to be looked at in terms of Tennessee gun laws. Instead, the republicans tossed them – threw em out. Well, at least one, when I last looked. No due process, no, like, okay, you’re going to be stripped of your committee assignments. The Tennessee legislature with a something like 70/30 republican to democrat hold, tossed three dems, two of which were young people of color, for using a bullhorn and, well, telling the truth.

How can we live in this world without feeling just like George Carlin? I’ve been watching for decades and more recently watching the Republican Party unravel into some sort of angry group of victimized, fearful and fear-mongering tribe. They did it and with pride (hubris) and a sense of goodness. What would Jesus say? That should be enough for any sitting republican. Are you doing what Jesus Christ would do?

But I can’t go so far as the brilliant comedian has. I’m still pissed watching them undermine all of our sacred laws, our constitution and everything else to soothe their fragile egos. It’s sad. It’s like some sort of movie about some kids who were dissed by the cool kids and so now are into their revenge. Not cool, republicans. Not cool at all.