RANDOM JACK: SPORTSLAND ESOTERICA.
With the rest of the world focused on the World Cup finals, America’s latest obsession was the decision of free agent NBA star LeBron James. Who would he choose to bless with his awesome talent and inspiring humility? After seven years of service, would he really turn his back on his hometown team? How much would he command?
In the most highly anticipated sporting event since the superb debut of Stephen Strasburg or the horrendous first post-trauma “press conference” of Tiger Woods, King James answered all questions with one word: Miami.
The Miami Heat had already signed superstar Chris Bosh and resigned superstar Dwyane Wade. With the addition of LeBron, Miami becomes the odds on favorite to win the NBA title and more importantly the team with the greatest star-driven marketability (unless you count Jack Nicholson with the Lakers). He reportedly will receive less than the Cleveland Cavaliers would have paid but if it translates into a string of championships the money will be astronomical.
Then there’s the glory. Let’s face it: You can’t be the King if your team is not a champion. The problem is: You can have three wise men but you can’t have three kings. No one knows how it will play out but if King James is reduced to Prince LeBron the dream may begin to unravel.
As a fan whose inclination is to root for the underdog (when my dog is not the hunt) this may be the first season since the days of Magic and Kareem when I root for the Lakers.
On a grander scale, if sport is a microcosm for the world at large, this is just the latest symptom of a disturbing economic trend: the rich get richer and richer and richer…
Fact: In 1970 the ratio of CEO (Chief Executive Officer) to average worker pay was 25:1. By 2000 it rose to 90:1. When stock options and other benefits are factored in the equation the latest estimate is 500:1.
Fact: The top one percent of the national population tripled its after tax income between 1980 and 2006 while the bottom 90% of the population declined by 20%. That elite one percent now owns 70% of the nation’s financial assets.
Fact: In 2009 while the nation’s workforce was suffering layoffs, reduced pay and benefits in the wake of the financial crisis, Wall Street doled out $150 billion in bonus checks: enough to pay five million people a salary of $30,000.
Fact: We now have the greatest inequality of wealth in the industrialized world.
[Memo to the Tea Party: Income inequality is antithesis to socialism. Our system is therefore so far removed from socialist you would be wiser and more credible to refer to the current administration as fascist though you would be hard pressed to distinguish it from prior administrations.]
What can we do? We are ostensibly a democracy. We could refuse to empower candidates who accept corporate contributions but we don’t. We could refuse to reward corporate crooks like Meg Whitman or Carly Fiorina. We could insist on candidates who pledge to close the gap, to restore the goal of full employment, who value wages and worker rights over corporate favoritism (deregulation and tax breaks) but we don’t.
In the Sportsland analogy we could boycott the Miami Heat. We could refuse to tune in for that championship season. We could refuse to buy the King James jersey. We could confine the fan base to Miami. But we won’t.
Like a train wreck we have to watch – even if we are watching our own demise.
See: “The Rise of the Economic Elite” by David DeGraw, Dissident Voice, February 17, 2010.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
RE: Gulf: "We are all guilty"
[Note: Jimmi wZ is a resident of northern Florida, Gulf side. I asked him for his thoughts...]
Its a travesty.
All profit oriented, even the clean up process is ruled by the dollar. People are not even allowed to talk about it in certain communities because of the fear it bring to the tourist.
I heard that they could have stopped the thing at the start except they were afraid of losing the billion plus they spent on drilling the thing. I go to the beach three or four times a day thanking and offering apologies to the mother earth that we have abused.
We are getting what we deserve. Myself amongst all others for being so gutless to not fight for alternative ways of transport. Even now I am preparing to drive my mother across the country in a gas guzzling Motorhome... We are all guilty.
I truly hope that this is the wake up call to america and the rest of the world. It has to be terrible beyond means to make us wake up. The planet is screaming at us ... spewing her blood in to our life giving gulf. How else could she react?
Meanwhile they pour zillions of gallons of chemicals in to cover their tracks and try to hide the problem. Its going to get really bad down here.
It hasnt quite reached my shores yet... though it is only a matter of time.
Each little tiny creature will be effected. I caught whiff of some of the fumes a week ago. Burnt my eyes and closed up my throat. That was from a random cloud that snuck its way in on a windy night.
I heard that the ruskies used nukes to close up wells before... the oil industry is still more worried about profits then saving the gulf.
....
some thoughts
we are all desperate and angry down here... with little that we can do except complain and talk.
thanks for asking
wz
Its a travesty.
All profit oriented, even the clean up process is ruled by the dollar. People are not even allowed to talk about it in certain communities because of the fear it bring to the tourist.
I heard that they could have stopped the thing at the start except they were afraid of losing the billion plus they spent on drilling the thing. I go to the beach three or four times a day thanking and offering apologies to the mother earth that we have abused.
We are getting what we deserve. Myself amongst all others for being so gutless to not fight for alternative ways of transport. Even now I am preparing to drive my mother across the country in a gas guzzling Motorhome... We are all guilty.
I truly hope that this is the wake up call to america and the rest of the world. It has to be terrible beyond means to make us wake up. The planet is screaming at us ... spewing her blood in to our life giving gulf. How else could she react?
Meanwhile they pour zillions of gallons of chemicals in to cover their tracks and try to hide the problem. Its going to get really bad down here.
It hasnt quite reached my shores yet... though it is only a matter of time.
Each little tiny creature will be effected. I caught whiff of some of the fumes a week ago. Burnt my eyes and closed up my throat. That was from a random cloud that snuck its way in on a windy night.
I heard that the ruskies used nukes to close up wells before... the oil industry is still more worried about profits then saving the gulf.
....
some thoughts
we are all desperate and angry down here... with little that we can do except complain and talk.
thanks for asking
wz
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Beatlick TR: Grand Canyon 2 & 3
Date: May 23, 2010 3:09 PM
Our first full day here in Tusayan we popped for an expensive IMAX movie about the Grand Canyon. After that we were pumped. It is so much fun to wander in the Visitor’s Center and listen to all the languages spoken. I heard Germans, British, a few other Western European accents I can’t identify and a swirl of Orientals. I can’t tell the Japanese from the Chinese, I’m ashamed to admit, but a line of about 30 folks, let’s say they were from Japan, were in a double line along with Beatlick Joe and I heading into the IMAX theater. I really go out of my way to smile big at people and give them eye contact. So I shot off a few smiles.
All of the folks I did give a friendly grin to looked beyond me with their shy eyes as if not to notice me at all. Oh well. As we all entered the theater, with ample seating I want to emphasize, all the people therein filtered out past the front seats to access the aisles on the left and right of the theater. There was no middle aisles.
In the upper rows there were about five more Oriental people waving to their friends below. At this point two of their lady friends in the lower level decided to make a beeline up to them and commenced climbing over the seats through the middle of the theater. It was over a dozen rows to the top. I don’t know if they were afraid other people would sit by their friends and leave them out, or what, as I said there were plenty of seats. Everyone else was using the aisles.
But at that moment when the two ladies started climbing over those seats like they were scaling Mount Fugi, their entire contingency of friends followed them. Every single one of them put the seat down, stood on it and hoisted a leg up and over the top to the next level, a dozen times each until they were all recongregated as a single unit at the top of the theater. It was the darnedest thing I’ve ever seen.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Date: May 26, 2010 11:23 AM
You see so many people at the Grand Canyon, it’s a game to try and figure what language is being spoken, what country someone is from.
Our young British friend Sam just fell into step with us and we enjoyed his company so much. He’s lucky, too, and extremely observant, as any good traveler should be. When he moved to our campground and wanted to heed the call of nature, Beatlick Joe handed him our Boy Scout shovel, some toilet paper and pointed him up the hillside. Up there he found a huge stash of beer and other flavored alcoholic beverages – almost a hundred dollars worth of drinks – all stashed behind this big log. We split the cache up between the three of us and me being “Miss Know It All” speculated “Somebody stole all this and then got caught after stealing something else and never got to come back for their stash.”
After Sam had left, on Saturday night and well after dark, a string of about five cars circled our campsite and formed a circle like a wagon train. Half a dozen teenagers started up the hill in the dark and I knew immediately what they were doing there. They had come for that stash of alcohol. Well, of course, they came back empty handed. Everybody just jumped back into their vehicles and peeled out of the camp. Thanks kids! Honor your elders!
The wind is really beginning to pick up and it’s harder to enjoy the Canyon trails. We walked down the South Kaibab Trail about one mile just to soak up the trail experience. One woman passed us with those hiking poles, dressed in little more than a swim suit. She said she had hiked from the North Rim, about 20 miles. She was obviously an accomplished athlete by the appearance of her body, but she was breathing hard.
“Oh come on,” she gasped, when she saw the last tiers of switchbacks still ahead of her. “You’re only five more minutes away,” I encouraged her.
“Finally!” she exclaimed.
We spent about an hour on the trail and then headed up to the Yavapai Observation Station for a lecture from one of the rangers. The wind got so cold and strong that I opted out and waited for Joe at the observation point there. That’s when I learned that someone jumped off of Mather Point yesterday. Apparently it’s becoming a popular place to commit suicide, like Niagara Falls, I assume. A park worker also fell to his death this week also and the flags are flying at half mast this week. The ranger had a black ribbon on her badge as well to honor a fallen park worker.
Such a pity, but the hustle and bustle of the park never stops and apparently the park never closes. We hope we have our definitive shot of the van by the Canyon. I sneaked in a restricted road early on Sunday morning to get the best shot and skedaddled out quick before we got caught.
It’s truly a dream come true for many to get here and at $500 a pop the helicopter are constantly competing with the condors for air space. On the tarmac over at the airport about five out of seven keep their rotor blades going as the passengers shuffle in and out.
The huge old log hotel, El Tavor, seems packed and the buses are certainly packed bringing in large group tours. Mostly I have seen Orientals and Germans; I guess they have the most money these days to travel. East Indians pull a close third, Brits, Mid-Easterners next and I haven’t really heard any French spoken or seen many Africans, but a small percentage of African Americans.
The lodges inside the park by the rim seem to attract some really dead-serious athletes. A number of hikers crash around us on the ancient leather seats in the lobby of the El Tovar Hotel along with a wedding party. All manner of taxidermed animal trophies line the upper reaches of the big lobby, their glassy eyes rest upon us all.
Happy Trails,
Beatlick Pamela
Our first full day here in Tusayan we popped for an expensive IMAX movie about the Grand Canyon. After that we were pumped. It is so much fun to wander in the Visitor’s Center and listen to all the languages spoken. I heard Germans, British, a few other Western European accents I can’t identify and a swirl of Orientals. I can’t tell the Japanese from the Chinese, I’m ashamed to admit, but a line of about 30 folks, let’s say they were from Japan, were in a double line along with Beatlick Joe and I heading into the IMAX theater. I really go out of my way to smile big at people and give them eye contact. So I shot off a few smiles.
All of the folks I did give a friendly grin to looked beyond me with their shy eyes as if not to notice me at all. Oh well. As we all entered the theater, with ample seating I want to emphasize, all the people therein filtered out past the front seats to access the aisles on the left and right of the theater. There was no middle aisles.
In the upper rows there were about five more Oriental people waving to their friends below. At this point two of their lady friends in the lower level decided to make a beeline up to them and commenced climbing over the seats through the middle of the theater. It was over a dozen rows to the top. I don’t know if they were afraid other people would sit by their friends and leave them out, or what, as I said there were plenty of seats. Everyone else was using the aisles.
But at that moment when the two ladies started climbing over those seats like they were scaling Mount Fugi, their entire contingency of friends followed them. Every single one of them put the seat down, stood on it and hoisted a leg up and over the top to the next level, a dozen times each until they were all recongregated as a single unit at the top of the theater. It was the darnedest thing I’ve ever seen.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Date: May 26, 2010 11:23 AM
You see so many people at the Grand Canyon, it’s a game to try and figure what language is being spoken, what country someone is from.
Our young British friend Sam just fell into step with us and we enjoyed his company so much. He’s lucky, too, and extremely observant, as any good traveler should be. When he moved to our campground and wanted to heed the call of nature, Beatlick Joe handed him our Boy Scout shovel, some toilet paper and pointed him up the hillside. Up there he found a huge stash of beer and other flavored alcoholic beverages – almost a hundred dollars worth of drinks – all stashed behind this big log. We split the cache up between the three of us and me being “Miss Know It All” speculated “Somebody stole all this and then got caught after stealing something else and never got to come back for their stash.”
After Sam had left, on Saturday night and well after dark, a string of about five cars circled our campsite and formed a circle like a wagon train. Half a dozen teenagers started up the hill in the dark and I knew immediately what they were doing there. They had come for that stash of alcohol. Well, of course, they came back empty handed. Everybody just jumped back into their vehicles and peeled out of the camp. Thanks kids! Honor your elders!
The wind is really beginning to pick up and it’s harder to enjoy the Canyon trails. We walked down the South Kaibab Trail about one mile just to soak up the trail experience. One woman passed us with those hiking poles, dressed in little more than a swim suit. She said she had hiked from the North Rim, about 20 miles. She was obviously an accomplished athlete by the appearance of her body, but she was breathing hard.
“Oh come on,” she gasped, when she saw the last tiers of switchbacks still ahead of her. “You’re only five more minutes away,” I encouraged her.
“Finally!” she exclaimed.
We spent about an hour on the trail and then headed up to the Yavapai Observation Station for a lecture from one of the rangers. The wind got so cold and strong that I opted out and waited for Joe at the observation point there. That’s when I learned that someone jumped off of Mather Point yesterday. Apparently it’s becoming a popular place to commit suicide, like Niagara Falls, I assume. A park worker also fell to his death this week also and the flags are flying at half mast this week. The ranger had a black ribbon on her badge as well to honor a fallen park worker.
Such a pity, but the hustle and bustle of the park never stops and apparently the park never closes. We hope we have our definitive shot of the van by the Canyon. I sneaked in a restricted road early on Sunday morning to get the best shot and skedaddled out quick before we got caught.
It’s truly a dream come true for many to get here and at $500 a pop the helicopter are constantly competing with the condors for air space. On the tarmac over at the airport about five out of seven keep their rotor blades going as the passengers shuffle in and out.
The huge old log hotel, El Tavor, seems packed and the buses are certainly packed bringing in large group tours. Mostly I have seen Orientals and Germans; I guess they have the most money these days to travel. East Indians pull a close third, Brits, Mid-Easterners next and I haven’t really heard any French spoken or seen many Africans, but a small percentage of African Americans.
The lodges inside the park by the rim seem to attract some really dead-serious athletes. A number of hikers crash around us on the ancient leather seats in the lobby of the El Tovar Hotel along with a wedding party. All manner of taxidermed animal trophies line the upper reaches of the big lobby, their glassy eyes rest upon us all.
Happy Trails,
Beatlick Pamela
Beatlick TR: On the way to the Grand Canyon
Date: May 21, 2010 9:17 PM
Well we sped out of Organ, NM, with the most power I guess I have ever had in this engine. I blew a valve, whatever that means, right in Michael’s driveway. Convenient. So he broke down the whole engine and things are up and running again.
We made a stop in San Rafael to visit Andrew again. He is an old friend from my days in Alaska. Old friends are such luxuries. He took one look at my hair and put me in his chair and gave me a much needed haircut. We wined and dined each other and laughed unceasingly for two days. Then it was time to head out to the Grand Canyon.
We retraced I40 and saw big changes as soon as we crossed the state line to Arizona. Back in 2003 we came this way and visited a new state park for the Homolovi Ruins. Now it is already closed down. Plus all the rest areas on the interstate are closed and barricaded. What a mess.
We drove straight to Flagstaff and pulled off some awesome “urban camping.” It was a Sunday afternoon and we wound up parking high on the hill downtown by the courthouse. We ignored the 2-hour parking signs because it was Sunday and left the van parked right there on the corner all day.
Later that night we backed up a few spaces to get out of the glare of the street lamps so we would blend in a little better in the shadows. Then we pulled all the curtains and settled in for the night. Joe’s clairvoyance woke him up about 2:30 am. He punched me and said, “Look.”
Through the curtains we could red lights flashing outside. I got up to step outside and volunteer to move along, but Joe said, “Wait, maybe it’s not us they are looking at.” So still as little church mice we waited and sure enough the cops passed us on by. So we went back to sleep but I was wide awake at 6 am so went on and found another spot for a few hours more.
Flagstaff is a great little town reminding me of those other picturesque small Arizona mining towns like Jerome, Globe and Bisbee, which harken back to another era. It was especially fun to see an AmTrac train station too, see all the passengers disembarking, scurrying off to the loud clanging of the signals.
We went to the old Monte Vista Hotel for internet access and again somebody asked Joe if he was Willy Nelson. I guess it’s that headband he’s been wearing. This guy was really drunk and soon after the bartender rescinded his drinking privileges.
On Monday we headed to Williams to stock up for the Canyon. Lord knows I still have plenty of beans from that 20 pound bag I bought back in Fort Stockton. We drove to the town of Tusayan where the Grand Canyon bus stops are located and found an awesome place to park in the forest nearby. We can walk to the bus stop and into town.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
[Note: The Beatlicks are Pamela Hirst & Joe Speers.]
Well we sped out of Organ, NM, with the most power I guess I have ever had in this engine. I blew a valve, whatever that means, right in Michael’s driveway. Convenient. So he broke down the whole engine and things are up and running again.
We made a stop in San Rafael to visit Andrew again. He is an old friend from my days in Alaska. Old friends are such luxuries. He took one look at my hair and put me in his chair and gave me a much needed haircut. We wined and dined each other and laughed unceasingly for two days. Then it was time to head out to the Grand Canyon.
We retraced I40 and saw big changes as soon as we crossed the state line to Arizona. Back in 2003 we came this way and visited a new state park for the Homolovi Ruins. Now it is already closed down. Plus all the rest areas on the interstate are closed and barricaded. What a mess.
We drove straight to Flagstaff and pulled off some awesome “urban camping.” It was a Sunday afternoon and we wound up parking high on the hill downtown by the courthouse. We ignored the 2-hour parking signs because it was Sunday and left the van parked right there on the corner all day.
Later that night we backed up a few spaces to get out of the glare of the street lamps so we would blend in a little better in the shadows. Then we pulled all the curtains and settled in for the night. Joe’s clairvoyance woke him up about 2:30 am. He punched me and said, “Look.”
Through the curtains we could red lights flashing outside. I got up to step outside and volunteer to move along, but Joe said, “Wait, maybe it’s not us they are looking at.” So still as little church mice we waited and sure enough the cops passed us on by. So we went back to sleep but I was wide awake at 6 am so went on and found another spot for a few hours more.
Flagstaff is a great little town reminding me of those other picturesque small Arizona mining towns like Jerome, Globe and Bisbee, which harken back to another era. It was especially fun to see an AmTrac train station too, see all the passengers disembarking, scurrying off to the loud clanging of the signals.
We went to the old Monte Vista Hotel for internet access and again somebody asked Joe if he was Willy Nelson. I guess it’s that headband he’s been wearing. This guy was really drunk and soon after the bartender rescinded his drinking privileges.
On Monday we headed to Williams to stock up for the Canyon. Lord knows I still have plenty of beans from that 20 pound bag I bought back in Fort Stockton. We drove to the town of Tusayan where the Grand Canyon bus stops are located and found an awesome place to park in the forest nearby. We can walk to the bus stop and into town.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
[Note: The Beatlicks are Pamela Hirst & Joe Speers.]
Thursday, June 03, 2010
DAMNABLE LIES & DECEPTIONS: THE CALIFORNIA INITIATIVE PROCESS 2010
RANDOM JACK. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
By Jack Random
When one considers statewide initiatives to amend the constitution, the fallback position and natural predisposition should be skeptical. It costs a great deal to put a proposition on the ballot in the great state of California. The people gathering signatures outside your local grocery or drug store are not volunteers. It costs real money to gather enough legitimate signatures to cover five percent of the latest gubernatorial election.
If someone goes to the trouble and expense of putting a proposition on the ballot through the initiative process it is rarely for the public good. It is rather for the benefit of the sponsor. There may be exceptions but they are rare.
On the June 8, 2010 ballot we have five statewide propositions. Three are the work of the legislature. Of these three, one is uncontested and of minimal consequence and two are worthy of passage. The remaining two, whose true sponsors and intent are cleverly disguised, are clear examples of what is wrong with the initiative process. Reminiscent of the infamous Prop 13 of 1978 that more than any other single act or event set the stage for California’s eventual financial collapse, they are the work of con artists. In plain language, they are lies and deceptions.
The following is a voting guide for those of similar political and policy views.
Legislative Initiatives:
Proposition 13: Elimination of Seismic Retrofitting Disincentive. As the ballot guide states, passage would enable property owners to upgrade buildings for earthquakes without incurring property tax penalties. Vote Yes.
PROPOSITION 14: Relatively Open Primaries. Enables voters to vote for any candidate in primary elections regardless of party. The top two face a runoff in the general election.
Any measure that lessens the major party stranglehold on the electoral process is a step in the right direction. The opposition is disingenuous in its objection that the candidates would no longer be required to state their party affiliation. They protest that candidates will charade as “independents.” Is that really a problem? I have no problem with a candidate “pretending” to be independent as long he or she votes as he or she pretends. Is that the best the opponents can do?
Mark it: If the polls show this one is close, the big money from the major party machines will come in to knock it down.
VOTE YES.
PROPOSITION 15: FAIR ELECTIONS, PUBLIC FINANCING. Repeals the ban on public funding of political campaigns. Provides equal financing for qualified candidates who refuse to take corporate or private contributions.
When did we ban public funding of elections? Whose brilliant idea was that? Were we insane or did we like having our politicians sold to the highest contributor? Repeal the ban and restore some semblance of sanity and fair play. The opposition is obviously the same lobbyists who are required to pay the cost of public funding under this initiative. How’s that for justice? The opposition says it “raises taxes” but the voter’s guide says it actually increases revenues by imposing fees on lobbyists. That’s the kind of “tax” we can all live with.
VOTE YES.
Voter Initiatives:
PROPOSITION 16: PROTECTING THE PG&E MONOPOLY. This one is the biggest lie and deception of all. Does anyone out there still remember the energy crisis of 2000-2001? It effectively transferred $50 billion from the California economy to Texas oil and energy corporations through fraudulent manipulation of energy prices. The only localities protected from the manipulations of traders were those who contracted their own energy supply. This proposition would be an open invitation to do again what they did in 2000-2001. The California corporations that hold near monopoly control now and want to secure their dominance through this initiative are Pacific Gas and Electric, Southern California Edison and San Diego Gas and Electric. They are not public entities. They are private corporations out for a buck. The claim that they represent the people’s right to vote is laughable. I would actually consider voting for such a proposition if they called for a vote of the majority. That would be democratic. That they call for a two thirds vote to overrule their dominance is a clear giveaway. This is a hustle and a scam.
VOTE NO.
PROPOSITION 17: THE MERCURY INSURANCE STING. This is a proposition with one sponsor: Mercury Insurance. Not known for their ethical or generous practices, they have connived to offer some of us a discount maybe under certain circumstances as long as we allow them to punish our friends and neighbors with outrageous surcharges for allowing our car insurance to lapse at some time in the past five years. Read the fine print and figure it out. It’s a hustle. When was the last time an insurance company put a measure on the ballot so it could lower rates?
VOTE NO AND BOYCOTT MERCURY INSURANCE.
Jazz.
Funding Data according to “Politics and Society” (University of Southern California):
Primary Sponsor of Proposition 15: California Nurses Association.
Primary Sponsor of Proposition 16: PG&E $35 million.
Primary Sponsor of Proposition 17: Mercury Insurance $10 million.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES, HARD TIMES, GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION, THE KILLING SPIRIT AND NUMBER NINE: THE ADVENTURES OF JAKE JONES AND RUBY DAULTON.
By Jack Random
When one considers statewide initiatives to amend the constitution, the fallback position and natural predisposition should be skeptical. It costs a great deal to put a proposition on the ballot in the great state of California. The people gathering signatures outside your local grocery or drug store are not volunteers. It costs real money to gather enough legitimate signatures to cover five percent of the latest gubernatorial election.
If someone goes to the trouble and expense of putting a proposition on the ballot through the initiative process it is rarely for the public good. It is rather for the benefit of the sponsor. There may be exceptions but they are rare.
On the June 8, 2010 ballot we have five statewide propositions. Three are the work of the legislature. Of these three, one is uncontested and of minimal consequence and two are worthy of passage. The remaining two, whose true sponsors and intent are cleverly disguised, are clear examples of what is wrong with the initiative process. Reminiscent of the infamous Prop 13 of 1978 that more than any other single act or event set the stage for California’s eventual financial collapse, they are the work of con artists. In plain language, they are lies and deceptions.
The following is a voting guide for those of similar political and policy views.
Legislative Initiatives:
Proposition 13: Elimination of Seismic Retrofitting Disincentive. As the ballot guide states, passage would enable property owners to upgrade buildings for earthquakes without incurring property tax penalties. Vote Yes.
PROPOSITION 14: Relatively Open Primaries. Enables voters to vote for any candidate in primary elections regardless of party. The top two face a runoff in the general election.
Any measure that lessens the major party stranglehold on the electoral process is a step in the right direction. The opposition is disingenuous in its objection that the candidates would no longer be required to state their party affiliation. They protest that candidates will charade as “independents.” Is that really a problem? I have no problem with a candidate “pretending” to be independent as long he or she votes as he or she pretends. Is that the best the opponents can do?
Mark it: If the polls show this one is close, the big money from the major party machines will come in to knock it down.
VOTE YES.
PROPOSITION 15: FAIR ELECTIONS, PUBLIC FINANCING. Repeals the ban on public funding of political campaigns. Provides equal financing for qualified candidates who refuse to take corporate or private contributions.
When did we ban public funding of elections? Whose brilliant idea was that? Were we insane or did we like having our politicians sold to the highest contributor? Repeal the ban and restore some semblance of sanity and fair play. The opposition is obviously the same lobbyists who are required to pay the cost of public funding under this initiative. How’s that for justice? The opposition says it “raises taxes” but the voter’s guide says it actually increases revenues by imposing fees on lobbyists. That’s the kind of “tax” we can all live with.
VOTE YES.
Voter Initiatives:
PROPOSITION 16: PROTECTING THE PG&E MONOPOLY. This one is the biggest lie and deception of all. Does anyone out there still remember the energy crisis of 2000-2001? It effectively transferred $50 billion from the California economy to Texas oil and energy corporations through fraudulent manipulation of energy prices. The only localities protected from the manipulations of traders were those who contracted their own energy supply. This proposition would be an open invitation to do again what they did in 2000-2001. The California corporations that hold near monopoly control now and want to secure their dominance through this initiative are Pacific Gas and Electric, Southern California Edison and San Diego Gas and Electric. They are not public entities. They are private corporations out for a buck. The claim that they represent the people’s right to vote is laughable. I would actually consider voting for such a proposition if they called for a vote of the majority. That would be democratic. That they call for a two thirds vote to overrule their dominance is a clear giveaway. This is a hustle and a scam.
VOTE NO.
PROPOSITION 17: THE MERCURY INSURANCE STING. This is a proposition with one sponsor: Mercury Insurance. Not known for their ethical or generous practices, they have connived to offer some of us a discount maybe under certain circumstances as long as we allow them to punish our friends and neighbors with outrageous surcharges for allowing our car insurance to lapse at some time in the past five years. Read the fine print and figure it out. It’s a hustle. When was the last time an insurance company put a measure on the ballot so it could lower rates?
VOTE NO AND BOYCOTT MERCURY INSURANCE.
Jazz.
Funding Data according to “Politics and Society” (University of Southern California):
Primary Sponsor of Proposition 15: California Nurses Association.
Primary Sponsor of Proposition 16: PG&E $35 million.
Primary Sponsor of Proposition 17: Mercury Insurance $10 million.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES, HARD TIMES, GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION, THE KILLING SPIRIT AND NUMBER NINE: THE ADVENTURES OF JAKE JONES AND RUBY DAULTON.
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
And the Oil Flows...like a river rising
A JAZZMAN CHRONICLE. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
BEYOND IMPATIENT
(And the Oil Flows on Like a River Rising)
By Jack Random
It is not just the Gulf of Mexico.
I hoped but never really expected this president to be the architect of a second New Deal. I hoped but never expected Obama to pull our troops out of foreign wars in Iraq and Afghanistan before the end of his first term. I hoped but never expected this administration to champion the universal right to healthcare. I hoped but never expected the Obama White House to turn its back on the elite of Wall Street and the financial aristocracy. I hoped but never expected Obama to christen the age of clean energy and universal mass transit.
I realized long before the election that Obama was not an ideologue and if he fell on the left of the political spectrum it was more rhetorical than real. Barack Obama was and is a pragmatist in the Clinton mold of triangulation and compromise.
What I did expect was bureaucratic competence and efficiency. I expected every do nothing administrator from the Bush era, those who never believed in the jobs they were assigned to do, to be replaced post haste with serious and experienced individuals intent on fulfilling the mandates of their positions.
It should be obvious by now that nothing of the sort took place in the Department of Interior where the fox guarding the henhouse principle was in play for the Minerals Management Service. Nothing of the sort took place at the Mine Safety and Health Administration under a Department of Labor that failed to hold Massey Energy to code prior to the latest coal mining disaster (another 29 miners died).
It has become clear that the Obama administration rather than working to reform government has merely responded to crises. The lesson of the ongoing gulf catastrophe is that the stakes are far too high to simply wait for the inevitable. In that sense, the Deepwater Horizon disaster is comparable to both the devastation of Hurricane Katrina and the wizardry on Wall Street that nearly toppled the towers of the financial empire.
In all three cases, the convergence of events that resulted in catastrophe and/or near catastrophe was absolutely predictable. The Army Corps of Engineers knew with absolute certainty that at some point a storm would topple the compromised levees protecting New Orleans. They either didn’t care because the likely victims were poor or the folks in charge gambled it would not happen on their watch. The same gamble took place on Wall Street where the CEO’s and high-stake rollers built their paper fortunes on fraud and deception knowing they were as phony as an accountant’s sympathy. They gambled it would not happen on their watch and even if it did they hedged their bets by investing in the same politicians that would consent to bail them out.
The experts in both government and the petroleum industry knew full well that a disaster was coming. A similar event happened off the shores of Australia as recently as last summer. Then as now there was no failsafe and no effective means of capping the leak (a euphemism for an open gash) or effectively mitigating the damage.
(Even now as the oil spews into the gulf in untold quantities a report from Esquire suggests that the Saudis effectively employed super tankers as vacuums to clean up a massive spill in the Gulf of Arabia circa 1994. If the Obama administration has not thoroughly investigated this report and applied its lessons as warranted, then it is guilty of negligence. If it has failed to act because of the economic costs then it is guilty of complicity in one of the most horrendous crimes against the environment in modern history.)
This administration may or may not have reacted quickly and decisively to this latest catastrophe. On that I will not stand in judgment. I do not have access to all relevant information but the fact is: They should have acted long before the crisis. There were numerous reports about the suspect agency collaborating with the very personnel they were supposed to hold accountable. In the Bush tradition, they were not regulators at all. They were in the pocket of the industry. They were cheerleaders skimming profits while they polished their resumes for jobs in the industry when their terms in government finally expired.
How many other agencies remain unchanged since the days of the anti-regulators? How many more Deepwater Horizons will we witness before the Obama administration decides it can move forward and clean house before a crisis hits?
Disappointed? Yes. I fear that this administration cares more about losing the friendship and loyal contributions of the industries and corporate institutions engaged in unlawful and egregious practices than it does about the working, tax paying, public-school-attending people that invested their hopes in him. I fear that Obama more resembles Lyndon Johnson in his fear of being blamed for losing a war than he does for the real interests of the nation. I fear he cares more about electoral politics than the long-term consequences of inaction.
We should have left Iraq lock stock and barrel years ago. The civil war between the Shiites and the Sunni (with the Kurds in the middle) awaits the day of our departure and nothing we can do will change that. The situation in Afghanistan is untenable. The Afghans like the Iraqis will ultimately hold sway with the Pakistanis serving as power brokers and us on the outside hoping for the best. We can debate what should have been done years ago until we’re exhausted from the exertion but the truth will remain it is far too late to salvage anything in the national interest.
We recently learned that the number of soldiers in Afghanistan for the first time exceeded the number in Iraq. We also passed a milestone in casualties: One thousand American soldiers have died in the Afghan War. (Number one thousand on the casualty list was Corporal Jacob Leicht. He was twenty-four years old and he was born on the fourth of July.) As in Iraq we have only a vague notion of how many Afghans have died in the war but we can be assured the number far exceeds any estimate the military will provide.
We elected Obama in part to clean up the mess that Bush left. We have a right to expect that much. We are growing impatient. We are beyond impatient. The damage to the Gulf of Mexico and indeed the vast interconnected ecosystem of the seven seas far exceeds a legacy any president might have earned.
We have only one expectation now: Stop the spill. Stop it now or spend every penny and every waking hour trying to stop it. Do not tell me the best minds in the world would allow this open gash in the gulf floor to spew oil without restraint for over six weeks no less another four months!
If that is the case and this is the very best we can do then this gamble was so completely reckless and ill-advised that everyone with a hand in it should be held criminally accountable. Let the dopers, dealers and swindlers out and put these corporate and bureaucratic crooks in jail for as long as the oil remains in Gulf waters and on Gulf shores.
Think that might speed up the process? You betcha!
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON THE ALBION MONITOR, BELLACIAO, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH, DISSIDENT VOICE, THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS AND PACIFIC FREE PRESS.
BEYOND IMPATIENT
(And the Oil Flows on Like a River Rising)
By Jack Random
It is not just the Gulf of Mexico.
I hoped but never really expected this president to be the architect of a second New Deal. I hoped but never expected Obama to pull our troops out of foreign wars in Iraq and Afghanistan before the end of his first term. I hoped but never expected this administration to champion the universal right to healthcare. I hoped but never expected the Obama White House to turn its back on the elite of Wall Street and the financial aristocracy. I hoped but never expected Obama to christen the age of clean energy and universal mass transit.
I realized long before the election that Obama was not an ideologue and if he fell on the left of the political spectrum it was more rhetorical than real. Barack Obama was and is a pragmatist in the Clinton mold of triangulation and compromise.
What I did expect was bureaucratic competence and efficiency. I expected every do nothing administrator from the Bush era, those who never believed in the jobs they were assigned to do, to be replaced post haste with serious and experienced individuals intent on fulfilling the mandates of their positions.
It should be obvious by now that nothing of the sort took place in the Department of Interior where the fox guarding the henhouse principle was in play for the Minerals Management Service. Nothing of the sort took place at the Mine Safety and Health Administration under a Department of Labor that failed to hold Massey Energy to code prior to the latest coal mining disaster (another 29 miners died).
It has become clear that the Obama administration rather than working to reform government has merely responded to crises. The lesson of the ongoing gulf catastrophe is that the stakes are far too high to simply wait for the inevitable. In that sense, the Deepwater Horizon disaster is comparable to both the devastation of Hurricane Katrina and the wizardry on Wall Street that nearly toppled the towers of the financial empire.
In all three cases, the convergence of events that resulted in catastrophe and/or near catastrophe was absolutely predictable. The Army Corps of Engineers knew with absolute certainty that at some point a storm would topple the compromised levees protecting New Orleans. They either didn’t care because the likely victims were poor or the folks in charge gambled it would not happen on their watch. The same gamble took place on Wall Street where the CEO’s and high-stake rollers built their paper fortunes on fraud and deception knowing they were as phony as an accountant’s sympathy. They gambled it would not happen on their watch and even if it did they hedged their bets by investing in the same politicians that would consent to bail them out.
The experts in both government and the petroleum industry knew full well that a disaster was coming. A similar event happened off the shores of Australia as recently as last summer. Then as now there was no failsafe and no effective means of capping the leak (a euphemism for an open gash) or effectively mitigating the damage.
(Even now as the oil spews into the gulf in untold quantities a report from Esquire suggests that the Saudis effectively employed super tankers as vacuums to clean up a massive spill in the Gulf of Arabia circa 1994. If the Obama administration has not thoroughly investigated this report and applied its lessons as warranted, then it is guilty of negligence. If it has failed to act because of the economic costs then it is guilty of complicity in one of the most horrendous crimes against the environment in modern history.)
This administration may or may not have reacted quickly and decisively to this latest catastrophe. On that I will not stand in judgment. I do not have access to all relevant information but the fact is: They should have acted long before the crisis. There were numerous reports about the suspect agency collaborating with the very personnel they were supposed to hold accountable. In the Bush tradition, they were not regulators at all. They were in the pocket of the industry. They were cheerleaders skimming profits while they polished their resumes for jobs in the industry when their terms in government finally expired.
How many other agencies remain unchanged since the days of the anti-regulators? How many more Deepwater Horizons will we witness before the Obama administration decides it can move forward and clean house before a crisis hits?
Disappointed? Yes. I fear that this administration cares more about losing the friendship and loyal contributions of the industries and corporate institutions engaged in unlawful and egregious practices than it does about the working, tax paying, public-school-attending people that invested their hopes in him. I fear that Obama more resembles Lyndon Johnson in his fear of being blamed for losing a war than he does for the real interests of the nation. I fear he cares more about electoral politics than the long-term consequences of inaction.
We should have left Iraq lock stock and barrel years ago. The civil war between the Shiites and the Sunni (with the Kurds in the middle) awaits the day of our departure and nothing we can do will change that. The situation in Afghanistan is untenable. The Afghans like the Iraqis will ultimately hold sway with the Pakistanis serving as power brokers and us on the outside hoping for the best. We can debate what should have been done years ago until we’re exhausted from the exertion but the truth will remain it is far too late to salvage anything in the national interest.
We recently learned that the number of soldiers in Afghanistan for the first time exceeded the number in Iraq. We also passed a milestone in casualties: One thousand American soldiers have died in the Afghan War. (Number one thousand on the casualty list was Corporal Jacob Leicht. He was twenty-four years old and he was born on the fourth of July.) As in Iraq we have only a vague notion of how many Afghans have died in the war but we can be assured the number far exceeds any estimate the military will provide.
We elected Obama in part to clean up the mess that Bush left. We have a right to expect that much. We are growing impatient. We are beyond impatient. The damage to the Gulf of Mexico and indeed the vast interconnected ecosystem of the seven seas far exceeds a legacy any president might have earned.
We have only one expectation now: Stop the spill. Stop it now or spend every penny and every waking hour trying to stop it. Do not tell me the best minds in the world would allow this open gash in the gulf floor to spew oil without restraint for over six weeks no less another four months!
If that is the case and this is the very best we can do then this gamble was so completely reckless and ill-advised that everyone with a hand in it should be held criminally accountable. Let the dopers, dealers and swindlers out and put these corporate and bureaucratic crooks in jail for as long as the oil remains in Gulf waters and on Gulf shores.
Think that might speed up the process? You betcha!
Jazz.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). THE CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON THE ALBION MONITOR, BELLACIAO, BUZZLE, COUNTERPUNCH, DISSIDENT VOICE, THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS AND PACIFIC FREE PRESS.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
THOUGHTS ON SPORTLAND ESOTERICA: Golf, Baseball, Drugs and the Long Putter.
Now that South African Tim Clark has won the Players Championship, the unofficial fifth major in professional golf, it is time to revisit the legality of the long putter. For the uninitiated, the user of the long putter grounds the club to his body placing his top hand over the hub of the club so it does not directly touch his chest or stomach as the case may be. As any golfer knows the long putter is the last resort for a player who has lost his putting touch. In an age when performance-enhancing drugs are the ultimate stain on an athlete’s reputation this performance enhancing technique is merely frowned upon.
Golf should save itself the embarrassment of a player winning one of the real majors using the grounded putter before it happens. It is as much an affront to the game of golf as the aluminum bat is to the game of baseball. Like the square grooved wedge it should be banned. No exceptions.
Speaking of golf, the demise of Tiger Woods has been dramatic. A year ago Tiger’s march to overtake the record of the Golden Bear Jack Nicklaus seemed certain. Now it is anything but. Given back-to-back poor showings and his withdrawal during the final round of the Players Championship with what may be a spinal injury, a host of new questions suddenly come into play.
Tiger Woods is beginning to fit the profile of an athlete who has used performance-enhancing drugs (steroids or human growth hormones). Typically, the user of these substances has an explosion in performance followed by a sudden and dramatic decline. They tend to have egos the size of Kilimanjaro, confidence bordering on megalomania, extreme difficulty controlling their emotions and their private lives are often prone to train wrecks. Typically, after several years of exceptional performance, their bodies begin to break down. Witness Ken Caminiti, Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Mark McGuire, Roger Clemens, on and on.
It is fair to say that the enhancing portion of these drugs is short term and the long term is debilitating.
As a fan of the game I bear no ill will toward any of its players – certainly not the exceptional athletes that have fallen to the temptation of drug enhancement. The corporate sponsors of the game love and reward them as they rise and blame them as they fall. No one can doubt the exceptional talents of these athletes or the tremendous pressures they are under to boost their production.
The thing is: In the long run, the payback is far too severe.
Keep the game pure. If it seems unfair or offends the senses it should be banned. No penalties. No condemnations. No prosecutions or incriminations.
Just protect the game and keep it real.
One additional thought: For those still looking for role models in sports (a dubious practice) look no further than Steve Nash and Los Suns of Phoenix. Staging a protest of their state's unconscionably discriminatory anti-immigrant law was not only appropriate but socially responsible.
Random.
Golf should save itself the embarrassment of a player winning one of the real majors using the grounded putter before it happens. It is as much an affront to the game of golf as the aluminum bat is to the game of baseball. Like the square grooved wedge it should be banned. No exceptions.
Speaking of golf, the demise of Tiger Woods has been dramatic. A year ago Tiger’s march to overtake the record of the Golden Bear Jack Nicklaus seemed certain. Now it is anything but. Given back-to-back poor showings and his withdrawal during the final round of the Players Championship with what may be a spinal injury, a host of new questions suddenly come into play.
Tiger Woods is beginning to fit the profile of an athlete who has used performance-enhancing drugs (steroids or human growth hormones). Typically, the user of these substances has an explosion in performance followed by a sudden and dramatic decline. They tend to have egos the size of Kilimanjaro, confidence bordering on megalomania, extreme difficulty controlling their emotions and their private lives are often prone to train wrecks. Typically, after several years of exceptional performance, their bodies begin to break down. Witness Ken Caminiti, Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Mark McGuire, Roger Clemens, on and on.
It is fair to say that the enhancing portion of these drugs is short term and the long term is debilitating.
As a fan of the game I bear no ill will toward any of its players – certainly not the exceptional athletes that have fallen to the temptation of drug enhancement. The corporate sponsors of the game love and reward them as they rise and blame them as they fall. No one can doubt the exceptional talents of these athletes or the tremendous pressures they are under to boost their production.
The thing is: In the long run, the payback is far too severe.
Keep the game pure. If it seems unfair or offends the senses it should be banned. No penalties. No condemnations. No prosecutions or incriminations.
Just protect the game and keep it real.
One additional thought: For those still looking for role models in sports (a dubious practice) look no further than Steve Nash and Los Suns of Phoenix. Staging a protest of their state's unconscionably discriminatory anti-immigrant law was not only appropriate but socially responsible.
Random.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Beatlick Travel Report: Astor Park Survival Camp
Subject: Astor Park, Beatlick Survival Camp
Date: Mar 18, 2010 12:59 PM
Another hot dusty day out here at Astor Park. Neil showed up with his four teens and a friend. So we had a population explosion. I am learning how to work with cement as we are all trying to help Neil get his first shelter set up. You know I call this survivor camp but truly we could never survive out here if it wasn't for Henry, Neil's brother, bringing us water almost every day, plus all those rides into town for beer and ice.
One policy I have initiated here is to cut Joe some slack. He is so serious about his reading and writing and I want to be supportive so we have set up days or parts of days where I cannot ask him to do something for me. I have to do it myself. He has me so spoiled that it is a real revelation to realize how much easier he makes the day go by with his constant help and attention. So as I say I am cutting him some slack.
The coyotes are getting more numerous and louder. I don't think they are coming into the camp but their yipping keeps me on my toes. Haven't seen any snakes or spiders but I imagine the season is coming upon us soon. We take the arroyos and trails to town. We named them streets from Nashville and the old neighborhood: Kipling Dr., Briley Parkway, 440. We get a real kick out of that.
The spring break really loaded up the RV parks around here. As much neglect and off business as we have seen in so many other places, there is nothing like that going on around here. The place is hopping all around Terlingua and Study Butte. We headed down to the little ghost town of Terlingua and sat out on the porch. It is loaded with tourists. Neil started playing somebody's new guitar and a crowd gathered around him in no time. His kids stood by in admiration as well. He is quite the character.
People were coming in from all over and taking pictures of Neil as the crowd grew around him. It was a hot day and the beer was cold, before I knew what was happening I had gone into the store with a big buzz on and mailed my sister a very expensive birthday present. I will have to learn to check my enthusiasum when I head into the big city of Terlingua.
Everytime we go to the RV park to use the Wi-fi I look a little worse. Today I have dirt, dust and cement all over me. Haven't had a bath in two days and didn't even attempt to comb my hair. My, my: attractive.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Date: Mar 18, 2010 12:59 PM
Another hot dusty day out here at Astor Park. Neil showed up with his four teens and a friend. So we had a population explosion. I am learning how to work with cement as we are all trying to help Neil get his first shelter set up. You know I call this survivor camp but truly we could never survive out here if it wasn't for Henry, Neil's brother, bringing us water almost every day, plus all those rides into town for beer and ice.
One policy I have initiated here is to cut Joe some slack. He is so serious about his reading and writing and I want to be supportive so we have set up days or parts of days where I cannot ask him to do something for me. I have to do it myself. He has me so spoiled that it is a real revelation to realize how much easier he makes the day go by with his constant help and attention. So as I say I am cutting him some slack.
The coyotes are getting more numerous and louder. I don't think they are coming into the camp but their yipping keeps me on my toes. Haven't seen any snakes or spiders but I imagine the season is coming upon us soon. We take the arroyos and trails to town. We named them streets from Nashville and the old neighborhood: Kipling Dr., Briley Parkway, 440. We get a real kick out of that.
The spring break really loaded up the RV parks around here. As much neglect and off business as we have seen in so many other places, there is nothing like that going on around here. The place is hopping all around Terlingua and Study Butte. We headed down to the little ghost town of Terlingua and sat out on the porch. It is loaded with tourists. Neil started playing somebody's new guitar and a crowd gathered around him in no time. His kids stood by in admiration as well. He is quite the character.
People were coming in from all over and taking pictures of Neil as the crowd grew around him. It was a hot day and the beer was cold, before I knew what was happening I had gone into the store with a big buzz on and mailed my sister a very expensive birthday present. I will have to learn to check my enthusiasum when I head into the big city of Terlingua.
Everytime we go to the RV park to use the Wi-fi I look a little worse. Today I have dirt, dust and cement all over me. Haven't had a bath in two days and didn't even attempt to comb my hair. My, my: attractive.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
RE: Blame the Teachers
APOLOGIES TO LOUISIANA AND MISSISSIPPI:
In my commentary on education (Blame the Teacher Syndrome, Dissident Voice, 15 March 2010) I made some inaccurate and/or misleading statements. My statement regarding California's ranking among the states in "per capita" funding should have stated "per student" funding (Education Week, California Teachers Association). The rankings are adjusted for cost of living. The new ranking includes projected cuts in the coming school year. I also implied that Louisiana and Mississippi had been ranked lower than California. In fact Louisiana was ranked 27th and Mississippi 39th. The states previously ranked lower than California were Texas, Nevada, Arizona and Utah.
Apologies are due to Louisiana and Mississippi.
Jazz
In my commentary on education (Blame the Teacher Syndrome, Dissident Voice, 15 March 2010) I made some inaccurate and/or misleading statements. My statement regarding California's ranking among the states in "per capita" funding should have stated "per student" funding (Education Week, California Teachers Association). The rankings are adjusted for cost of living. The new ranking includes projected cuts in the coming school year. I also implied that Louisiana and Mississippi had been ranked lower than California. In fact Louisiana was ranked 27th and Mississippi 39th. The states previously ranked lower than California were Texas, Nevada, Arizona and Utah.
Apologies are due to Louisiana and Mississippi.
Jazz
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
RE: Blame the Teachers
Sad but so true! I see this played out on a weekly basis when I teach chess at Dr. George Washington Carver Elementary School. They are centrally located in the notorious San Francisco neighborhood called Bayview Hunter’s Point. I have been teaching chess there for over nine years, and each year the struggle continues for the dedicated Teachers and staff that are committed to these wonderful children who are directly impacted by poverty, gang violence, and drugs in the community. The neighborhoods are blighted, and the threat of gentrification and closing down the school is always looming large. The Principal and I, Mrs. Emily Wade-Thompson, have become good friends over the years. She is an amazing African-American woman who runs her school like an African Village, instilling pride in her students by teaching them their history and heritage. The students are called “Achievers”, and taught a list of core values based on the Swahili language, for example Umoja, which means Unity in the community. Her plight, and that of her fellow educators, and those of each and every “Achiever” around this country is given nothing but lip service and chicanery by our elected officials, corporations, and parents, whom all want to blame the teachers. It takes a village to raise a child.
Wakiza McQueen
[Note: "Blame the Teacher Syndrome: A Misguided Education Policy" by Jack Random posted on Dissident Voice, March 15, 2010.]
Wakiza McQueen
[Note: "Blame the Teacher Syndrome: A Misguided Education Policy" by Jack Random posted on Dissident Voice, March 15, 2010.]
Saturday, March 13, 2010
RE: To Jack Kerouac on His 88th Birthday
By ivan arguelles
bride's shadow made white by truck
going all the way to Big Sur
bums depleted by dhamma tight
band around head no high Way
at all like streaking light in Eye
panther of heart makes leap Beat
sleeping butterfly shakes in sewer
rain caught for a fraction of eternity
rooftops burn with Mental flame
bridge presses azure to sky wants
to Die! bottle to breast & cries
arguelles after mansel
bride's shadow made white by truck
going all the way to Big Sur
bums depleted by dhamma tight
band around head no high Way
at all like streaking light in Eye
panther of heart makes leap Beat
sleeping butterfly shakes in sewer
rain caught for a fraction of eternity
rooftops burn with Mental flame
bridge presses azure to sky wants
to Die! bottle to breast & cries
arguelles after mansel
Friday, March 12, 2010
Mind of Mansel: Poetry Corner
To Jack Kerouac on His 88th Birthday
early morning and the street is swept
by a white truck followed by birds
in the shade of a bride's shadow
lightning streaking from the silent eyes
of a half-mad cat who's paw is caught
in a sewer grate
the shore pouring over the bridge
the ledge pressing into the sky
somewhere a butterfly is shaking
because he doesn't want to die
Chris Mansel
early morning and the street is swept
by a white truck followed by birds
in the shade of a bride's shadow
lightning streaking from the silent eyes
of a half-mad cat who's paw is caught
in a sewer grate
the shore pouring over the bridge
the ledge pressing into the sky
somewhere a butterfly is shaking
because he doesn't want to die
Chris Mansel
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Beatlick Travel Report/Astor Park: Survival Camp
Beatlick Joe and I took our first three-mile walk to the wi-fi cafe down a long dirt road and around a few mountains. We have been at Astor Camp, courtesy of Neil Astor, for about five days and I have dismantled the whole campsite and put it back together every single day since we got here. We were so excited when we arrived on Friday that we put up our custom tent that attaches to the van. Then I attached a tarp to the tent and we raised up the van roof to access our sleeping quarters. With all that we had some serious square footage.
I spent the second day, all day, figuring out how to build a fire pit. It seems like it would be simple, but getting all those irregular stones into some semblance of order and important to me balance and appeal, took hours. At first I had a big, huge really, stone flush to the ground for a base. I had rolled it uphill myself. This is exactly the kind of grunt work in which Joe Speer has absolutely no interest. It didn't look right so I started all over and dug a hole to build up a bit of a firewall and put the rock into it. I hauled a bunch of large stones needed for circling the pit. But by the time I was finished fussing with all the rocks and moving them around, the peculiar soil out here full of Bentonite had all blown away and the stone was back flush to the ground again. Where did my hole go? I kept asking Joe.
Inside the tent I put up a shelf and stacked all the canned goods, we had a table and chairs, all the kitchen utensils, water and wash basin, it was like an apartment. I was ecstatic. Outside we have a 20-gallon jug, a 5-gallon jug, inside a 3-gallon jug with spicket and about five more gallon jugs. We were great for about 36 hours. Then the wind kicked up. At one point I was leaning against the tent like those actors on the prow of the Titanic. It was between something like that and wind surfing. I could lean the entire weight of my body back against the tent rigging the gales were so strong. After a few hours of that we decided we had to take our irreplaceable custom tent down rather than damage it.
So on the third day I had to load everything I had taken out of the van back into it. That day I attached the tarp straight to the van and had a little awning. That was a real comedown after all the spaciousness of the day before. On the fourth day Joe suggested we put the tarp up on the tent frame. And THAT has been the answer. We can sit outside under a nice large tarp and move the chairs, table and a futon Neil left behind all in the appropriate shade provided as the sun rotates around the panorama.
We cook on the fireplace except in the morning. We have coffee in the van first thing, check out the landscape and see what the sun and wind are doing. There is not a single telephone pole to be seen out here. The only cars on the private road are other property owners. And it is quiet. And still. We often cook with Henry, our neighbor, who is Neil's brother. Only once was I ever able to pick up the Marfa NPR station so only music on the renegade Terlingua station Cayote Radio 100.1. It's good, really good, but I do miss the news.
We've watched a few movies on our DVD using Henry's solar equipment. We spend a lot of time reading, hiking and setting up camp for now. The sky is just becoming overwhelming to me. I see more up there than I can figure out. I'm not even that interested in sitting out there watching the stars right now because I can't always wrap my head around what I see. Neil is coming soon and we hope he approves of our camp design.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
I spent the second day, all day, figuring out how to build a fire pit. It seems like it would be simple, but getting all those irregular stones into some semblance of order and important to me balance and appeal, took hours. At first I had a big, huge really, stone flush to the ground for a base. I had rolled it uphill myself. This is exactly the kind of grunt work in which Joe Speer has absolutely no interest. It didn't look right so I started all over and dug a hole to build up a bit of a firewall and put the rock into it. I hauled a bunch of large stones needed for circling the pit. But by the time I was finished fussing with all the rocks and moving them around, the peculiar soil out here full of Bentonite had all blown away and the stone was back flush to the ground again. Where did my hole go? I kept asking Joe.
Inside the tent I put up a shelf and stacked all the canned goods, we had a table and chairs, all the kitchen utensils, water and wash basin, it was like an apartment. I was ecstatic. Outside we have a 20-gallon jug, a 5-gallon jug, inside a 3-gallon jug with spicket and about five more gallon jugs. We were great for about 36 hours. Then the wind kicked up. At one point I was leaning against the tent like those actors on the prow of the Titanic. It was between something like that and wind surfing. I could lean the entire weight of my body back against the tent rigging the gales were so strong. After a few hours of that we decided we had to take our irreplaceable custom tent down rather than damage it.
So on the third day I had to load everything I had taken out of the van back into it. That day I attached the tarp straight to the van and had a little awning. That was a real comedown after all the spaciousness of the day before. On the fourth day Joe suggested we put the tarp up on the tent frame. And THAT has been the answer. We can sit outside under a nice large tarp and move the chairs, table and a futon Neil left behind all in the appropriate shade provided as the sun rotates around the panorama.
We cook on the fireplace except in the morning. We have coffee in the van first thing, check out the landscape and see what the sun and wind are doing. There is not a single telephone pole to be seen out here. The only cars on the private road are other property owners. And it is quiet. And still. We often cook with Henry, our neighbor, who is Neil's brother. Only once was I ever able to pick up the Marfa NPR station so only music on the renegade Terlingua station Cayote Radio 100.1. It's good, really good, but I do miss the news.
We've watched a few movies on our DVD using Henry's solar equipment. We spend a lot of time reading, hiking and setting up camp for now. The sky is just becoming overwhelming to me. I see more up there than I can figure out. I'm not even that interested in sitting out there watching the stars right now because I can't always wrap my head around what I see. Neil is coming soon and we hope he approves of our camp design.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Friday, March 05, 2010
THE LORDS OF OBSTRUCTION:
JAZZMAN CHRONICLES. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
THE CASE FOR SENATORIAL REFORM
By Jack Random
Since the State of the Union Address President Obama has engaged his opposition, including members of his own party, and the only thing he has proven is what we already knew: He is the smartest man in the room. Any room. Certainly any room crowded with posturing and pontificating members of the United States Senate.
In the most recent encounter, a summit on health care, he asked of the opposition only one thing: that they should come without a list of talking points. After careful consideration and according to insider reports considerable rehearsal, the party of opposition came with exactly that. Over seven painful hours of repetitive rhetoric the esteemed Senators could not even vary the phrasing. We need to scrap the bill. We need to start over with a clean sheet of paper. We cannot support a government takeover. On and on.
It was all theater and bad theater at that. It was like watching a seven-hour version of Samuel Beckett’s classic existential play Waiting for Godot. Godot is the spirit of bipartisanship and by now even the president must know Godot never comes.
The government is broken, our democracy in shambles, and healthcare reform (such as it is) has been held hostage for a year while another 45,000 Americans have died for lack of health insurance. I do not know the validity of that oft-sited estimate but I do know this: Lives are at stake and the protocol of the Senate was not worth a single life.
President Obama lost the high ground of the healthcare debate when he placed the value of Senatorial rules and the illusion of bipartisanship over the health and safety of the people he was sworn to protect.
Now we are confronted with the possibility of a watered down healthcare package passing through budget reconciliation and the Republicans are crying foul. For the first year of the Obama presidency they shamelessly abused the power of the filibuster to obstruct all major legislation and now they cry foul.
Most shameful of all is Senator Orrin Hatch who attacked the invocation of reconciliation with the claim that it would be “an assault to the democratic process.”
The Senator has it backwards. The invocation of the filibuster to obstruct the will of the people and the majority of their representatives is an assault on democracy itself. Senators can drone on as long as they wish about the rights of the minority but there is no minority in the United States Senate worth protecting. It is an elitist club, a club of millionaires, and its insistence on the right to endless debate in order to prevent a majority vote is a power grab and an affront to the constitution which grants them no such power.
The American system of government was modeled on the British Parliament. In place of the King we have a president. In place of the Commons we established Congress. And in place of the House of Lords we established the United States Senate.
The House of Lords was originally composed of the British Aristocracy. It was an unelected body of wealthy, privileged individuals, some of whom were appointed by the King and some who were chosen by hereditary succession. They were born to power and they held the right of veto over all legislation passed by the House of Commons.
As the British system embraced the principles of democratic rule it was inevitable that the power of the Lords would stand in the way. It was the antithesis of democracy. It was designed to protect the interests of the elite by obstructing the will of the people.
The power of the House of Lords came under assault in 1906 when the Liberal Party took control of the Commons in a landslide election. It was clear that the legislative mandate for which ministers of parliament were elected (Irish home rule and social reform) could not be enacted without first curtailing the power of the Lords.
It was a long hard battle against entrenched interests and in fact the process remains to be completed today but the House of Lords is only a shadow of the institution it once was. The Lords still exists but like the monarchy itself it is fundamentally a symbol, a figurehead, a remembrance of a time when Kings and Queens held absolute sway over the fate of nations. The Lords still have some measure of power but should they abuse it they are keenly aware that the power of democracy will once again rise up to put them in their rightful place.
What British democracy confronted at the beginning of the last century is analogous to what American democracy confronts today. For while we now elect members of the Senate (the 17th Amendment) it remains undeniably the least representative and therefore the most anti-democratic institution in American government. Because of its power to obstruct legislation it attracts powerful interests so that every Senator requires more and more millions of dollars to finance an election campaign. Promises are made and debts are paid.
The problem with American government is not the men and women who fill the seats of the Senate per se. It is the institution itself.
Leave alone the problem of disproportionate representation [1]. Stand aside the problem of undue corporate influence, a problem compounded by the unconscionable ruling of our corporate Supreme Court. These are flaws that must be rectified if we are to achieve a more perfect union and a more functional government but the immediate problem we must address is the power grab of the Senatorial filibuster.
There is no man or woman in this or any other nation who believes in democracy yet will rise in defense of granting a minority in any deliberative body the absolute power of obstruction. Conversely, any man or woman who supports the filibuster rule as it now operates cannot claim to believe in democracy.
We as a nation have far too many pressing matters to allow this display of mindless power manipulations and political posturing to continue ad nauseum.
I do not propose the abolition of the Senate. It has its role. Our system works best when the Senate performs in earnest its duties as prescribed in the constitution. Moreover, it can produce great leaders and prepare them to ascend to the presidency. But the Senate is not a marble monument. It is neither sacred nor strictly speaking necessary. It must adapt and change. It must embrace the democratic ideal and not seek to thwart it. It must become more democratic and less elitist.
It must sacrifice the power of the minority to obstruct the business of the nation. If it does not it will inevitably find itself under assault like the British House of Lords and with good cause.
The British did not abolish the House of Lords but they could have and might have if the Lords themselves did not recognize that the age of aristocracy is over.
Jazz.
[1] Even Alexander Hamilton, the champion of all modern conservatives, denounced the disproportionate representation of the US Senate: “It is not in human nature that Virginia and the large States should consent to it, or if they did that they should long abide by it. It shocks too much the ideas of Justice, and every human feeling. Bad principles in a Government though slow are sure in their operation and will gradually destroy it.”
From “The Debates in the Federal Convention of 1787” by James Madison.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). A COLUMNIST FOR THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS, WORLD EDITION, HIS CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB. SEE WWW.JAZZMANCHRONICLES.BLOGSPOT.COM.
THE CASE FOR SENATORIAL REFORM
By Jack Random
Since the State of the Union Address President Obama has engaged his opposition, including members of his own party, and the only thing he has proven is what we already knew: He is the smartest man in the room. Any room. Certainly any room crowded with posturing and pontificating members of the United States Senate.
In the most recent encounter, a summit on health care, he asked of the opposition only one thing: that they should come without a list of talking points. After careful consideration and according to insider reports considerable rehearsal, the party of opposition came with exactly that. Over seven painful hours of repetitive rhetoric the esteemed Senators could not even vary the phrasing. We need to scrap the bill. We need to start over with a clean sheet of paper. We cannot support a government takeover. On and on.
It was all theater and bad theater at that. It was like watching a seven-hour version of Samuel Beckett’s classic existential play Waiting for Godot. Godot is the spirit of bipartisanship and by now even the president must know Godot never comes.
The government is broken, our democracy in shambles, and healthcare reform (such as it is) has been held hostage for a year while another 45,000 Americans have died for lack of health insurance. I do not know the validity of that oft-sited estimate but I do know this: Lives are at stake and the protocol of the Senate was not worth a single life.
President Obama lost the high ground of the healthcare debate when he placed the value of Senatorial rules and the illusion of bipartisanship over the health and safety of the people he was sworn to protect.
Now we are confronted with the possibility of a watered down healthcare package passing through budget reconciliation and the Republicans are crying foul. For the first year of the Obama presidency they shamelessly abused the power of the filibuster to obstruct all major legislation and now they cry foul.
Most shameful of all is Senator Orrin Hatch who attacked the invocation of reconciliation with the claim that it would be “an assault to the democratic process.”
The Senator has it backwards. The invocation of the filibuster to obstruct the will of the people and the majority of their representatives is an assault on democracy itself. Senators can drone on as long as they wish about the rights of the minority but there is no minority in the United States Senate worth protecting. It is an elitist club, a club of millionaires, and its insistence on the right to endless debate in order to prevent a majority vote is a power grab and an affront to the constitution which grants them no such power.
The American system of government was modeled on the British Parliament. In place of the King we have a president. In place of the Commons we established Congress. And in place of the House of Lords we established the United States Senate.
The House of Lords was originally composed of the British Aristocracy. It was an unelected body of wealthy, privileged individuals, some of whom were appointed by the King and some who were chosen by hereditary succession. They were born to power and they held the right of veto over all legislation passed by the House of Commons.
As the British system embraced the principles of democratic rule it was inevitable that the power of the Lords would stand in the way. It was the antithesis of democracy. It was designed to protect the interests of the elite by obstructing the will of the people.
The power of the House of Lords came under assault in 1906 when the Liberal Party took control of the Commons in a landslide election. It was clear that the legislative mandate for which ministers of parliament were elected (Irish home rule and social reform) could not be enacted without first curtailing the power of the Lords.
It was a long hard battle against entrenched interests and in fact the process remains to be completed today but the House of Lords is only a shadow of the institution it once was. The Lords still exists but like the monarchy itself it is fundamentally a symbol, a figurehead, a remembrance of a time when Kings and Queens held absolute sway over the fate of nations. The Lords still have some measure of power but should they abuse it they are keenly aware that the power of democracy will once again rise up to put them in their rightful place.
What British democracy confronted at the beginning of the last century is analogous to what American democracy confronts today. For while we now elect members of the Senate (the 17th Amendment) it remains undeniably the least representative and therefore the most anti-democratic institution in American government. Because of its power to obstruct legislation it attracts powerful interests so that every Senator requires more and more millions of dollars to finance an election campaign. Promises are made and debts are paid.
The problem with American government is not the men and women who fill the seats of the Senate per se. It is the institution itself.
Leave alone the problem of disproportionate representation [1]. Stand aside the problem of undue corporate influence, a problem compounded by the unconscionable ruling of our corporate Supreme Court. These are flaws that must be rectified if we are to achieve a more perfect union and a more functional government but the immediate problem we must address is the power grab of the Senatorial filibuster.
There is no man or woman in this or any other nation who believes in democracy yet will rise in defense of granting a minority in any deliberative body the absolute power of obstruction. Conversely, any man or woman who supports the filibuster rule as it now operates cannot claim to believe in democracy.
We as a nation have far too many pressing matters to allow this display of mindless power manipulations and political posturing to continue ad nauseum.
I do not propose the abolition of the Senate. It has its role. Our system works best when the Senate performs in earnest its duties as prescribed in the constitution. Moreover, it can produce great leaders and prepare them to ascend to the presidency. But the Senate is not a marble monument. It is neither sacred nor strictly speaking necessary. It must adapt and change. It must embrace the democratic ideal and not seek to thwart it. It must become more democratic and less elitist.
It must sacrifice the power of the minority to obstruct the business of the nation. If it does not it will inevitably find itself under assault like the British House of Lords and with good cause.
The British did not abolish the House of Lords but they could have and might have if the Lords themselves did not recognize that the age of aristocracy is over.
Jazz.
[1] Even Alexander Hamilton, the champion of all modern conservatives, denounced the disproportionate representation of the US Senate: “It is not in human nature that Virginia and the large States should consent to it, or if they did that they should long abide by it. It shocks too much the ideas of Justice, and every human feeling. Bad principles in a Government though slow are sure in their operation and will gradually destroy it.”
From “The Debates in the Federal Convention of 1787” by James Madison.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). A COLUMNIST FOR THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS, WORLD EDITION, HIS CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB. SEE WWW.JAZZMANCHRONICLES.BLOGSPOT.COM.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Beatlick Travel Report: Truth or Consequences
Date: Feb 25, 2010 3:40 PM
“There’s more consequences than truth” is the saying around here, especially when water and real estate might be the topic. Like the elephant bone yard this town is the bone yard for vintage Airstreams and they speckle the landscape. We’ve pulled into the Artesian RV Park and Bathhouse for a month. The Black Cat Bookstore has poetry readings twice a month. There is a radical underground radio station FM 96.1, political rant website (www.desertjournalonline.com/underground_truth.htm), a good library, grocery store, and cheap diners. A population of mature citizens, young upstarts ready to make a fortune when the Spaceport project of Virgin Airline’s Richard Branson’s gets off the ground, and a constant trickle of bathers and tourists all pass each other in a dusty gauzy throwback to the 1950s.
This is the closest I’ve ever come to living in a trailer park. There are 36 units here with the basic hookups then a laundry room, freezer (where we keep freezing water jugs instead of buying ice) and half-off the soaks. Plus wi-fi so we can just lay around and watch online movies all day if we want. I have a small electric heater we can use at night, plus I got a Mr. Heater portable stove that runs on propane canisters. I LOVE IT. It’s just like sitting around a little hearth. We’ve got the tent attached to the van and have received three visitors since we got here. Once we went to the Pinch and Swallow on Broadway to see Las Cruces’s favorite bluegrass band man Steve Smith. Apparently “Dr. Bob” of T or C hosts these musical soirees in the bar that served him as therapeutic exercise during a stressful time in his career. I don’t have last names or all the facts because this is just what I picked up hanging around the stage. You have to bring your own refreshments, it’s not a commercial operation. There is an enormous mural on the wall, must be forty feet long, tripped out, that the good doctor painted himself as a de-stressor. Steve Smith’s band is fabulous and much of the “mature” audience members broke into groups just like junior high. I don’t know what they put in the water around here but there is a really unique congregation of very cheerful, well-satisfied elders here.
The women danced mostly with each other in the back while the men hopped around in a mild version of a mosh pit up front. Some of their outfits were “which-way-to-the-festival-man style," layers of long and short skirts, odd hats and plenty of jewelry. The men were a little more subdued but most had long beards and looked like old Civil War soldiers. There are a lot of wheelchairs around town, there’s a nearby VA hospital, and many old-timers on their scooters going up and down the street with their flags furling dune-buggy style. I eavesdrop on the conversations around me. A group of residents down at the thrift store agree this winter has been one of the worst for longevity. “You can tell things are changing,” one ancient said, “everybody I know has a cold.”
I guess they are recalling the glory days when all the bath house cottages were new and the WPA had just laid down the town’s concrete sidewalks. Everything is out of an old black-and-white movie now. One voyager up the street who passed by on his scooter told me his parents lived here way back when and he moved here permanently in the early 90s. “Nuthin’s really changed too much around here, but the price of real estate.”
There is this boom town talk that does make me leery. All the young folks are speculators and all the old folks are skeptics. A lot of the promises of glory sound so much like the stories we’ve heard about in New Mexico’s history of boom and bust. The whole town is for sale just about and that lends a real ghost town feel to the place. Too bad somebody doesn’t come in here and set money on fire like they have done in Marfa, Texas.
The trip to T or C has been a good practice run before we turn around and go back to Study Butte. I had to interrupt our plans to have a root canal redone in El Paso. But we are back on track for Survival Camp at Astor Park in Study Butte, Texas, by the Big Bend National Park. They call it Far West, Texas, out there but I call it Far Out West Texas.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela Hirst
“There’s more consequences than truth” is the saying around here, especially when water and real estate might be the topic. Like the elephant bone yard this town is the bone yard for vintage Airstreams and they speckle the landscape. We’ve pulled into the Artesian RV Park and Bathhouse for a month. The Black Cat Bookstore has poetry readings twice a month. There is a radical underground radio station FM 96.1, political rant website (www.desertjournalonline.com/underground_truth.htm), a good library, grocery store, and cheap diners. A population of mature citizens, young upstarts ready to make a fortune when the Spaceport project of Virgin Airline’s Richard Branson’s gets off the ground, and a constant trickle of bathers and tourists all pass each other in a dusty gauzy throwback to the 1950s.
This is the closest I’ve ever come to living in a trailer park. There are 36 units here with the basic hookups then a laundry room, freezer (where we keep freezing water jugs instead of buying ice) and half-off the soaks. Plus wi-fi so we can just lay around and watch online movies all day if we want. I have a small electric heater we can use at night, plus I got a Mr. Heater portable stove that runs on propane canisters. I LOVE IT. It’s just like sitting around a little hearth. We’ve got the tent attached to the van and have received three visitors since we got here. Once we went to the Pinch and Swallow on Broadway to see Las Cruces’s favorite bluegrass band man Steve Smith. Apparently “Dr. Bob” of T or C hosts these musical soirees in the bar that served him as therapeutic exercise during a stressful time in his career. I don’t have last names or all the facts because this is just what I picked up hanging around the stage. You have to bring your own refreshments, it’s not a commercial operation. There is an enormous mural on the wall, must be forty feet long, tripped out, that the good doctor painted himself as a de-stressor. Steve Smith’s band is fabulous and much of the “mature” audience members broke into groups just like junior high. I don’t know what they put in the water around here but there is a really unique congregation of very cheerful, well-satisfied elders here.
The women danced mostly with each other in the back while the men hopped around in a mild version of a mosh pit up front. Some of their outfits were “which-way-to-the-festival-man style," layers of long and short skirts, odd hats and plenty of jewelry. The men were a little more subdued but most had long beards and looked like old Civil War soldiers. There are a lot of wheelchairs around town, there’s a nearby VA hospital, and many old-timers on their scooters going up and down the street with their flags furling dune-buggy style. I eavesdrop on the conversations around me. A group of residents down at the thrift store agree this winter has been one of the worst for longevity. “You can tell things are changing,” one ancient said, “everybody I know has a cold.”
I guess they are recalling the glory days when all the bath house cottages were new and the WPA had just laid down the town’s concrete sidewalks. Everything is out of an old black-and-white movie now. One voyager up the street who passed by on his scooter told me his parents lived here way back when and he moved here permanently in the early 90s. “Nuthin’s really changed too much around here, but the price of real estate.”
There is this boom town talk that does make me leery. All the young folks are speculators and all the old folks are skeptics. A lot of the promises of glory sound so much like the stories we’ve heard about in New Mexico’s history of boom and bust. The whole town is for sale just about and that lends a real ghost town feel to the place. Too bad somebody doesn’t come in here and set money on fire like they have done in Marfa, Texas.
The trip to T or C has been a good practice run before we turn around and go back to Study Butte. I had to interrupt our plans to have a root canal redone in El Paso. But we are back on track for Survival Camp at Astor Park in Study Butte, Texas, by the Big Bend National Park. They call it Far West, Texas, out there but I call it Far Out West Texas.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela Hirst
Sunday, February 21, 2010
TIGER, TIGER: THE SCARLET LETTER
A JAZZMAN CHRONICLE. DISSEMINATE FREELY.
THE SCARLET LETTER: W IS FOR WRONG
By Jack Random
I was wrong. I was foolish. I don't get to play by different rules. The same boundaries that apply to everyone apply to me.
Tiger Woods, February 19, 2010.
Few economists saw our current crisis coming, but this predictive failure was the least of the field’s problems. More important was the profession’s blindness to the very possibility of catastrophic failures in a market economy.
Paul Krugman, September 2, 2009.
Tiger Woods was compelled by media outcry to stand before the cameras and submit to public humiliation. For some fifteen minutes on a Friday morning the world stopped to witness the event and sit in judgment on the sincerity of his contrition. Within seconds of his scripted performance the media was clamoring for more. They feel entitled. The public needs to know. The public demands.
Tiger Woods will no doubt deliver in the fullness of time. He is no longer a golfer. He is no longer the man destined to break Jack Nicklaus’s record of eighteen major golf championships. He is a serial adulterer. He wears a scarlet letter. He will always wear it. Someday he will return to the sport in which he excels and his accomplishments may again outweigh the foibles of his private life but he will never lose the scarlet letter.
The world is not a just place. It is no more just that a golfer should make hundreds of millions of dollars and be crowned the king of a billion dollar corporation than it is for that same golfer to submit to public humiliation for private wrongs.
If not for the corporate monster that has planted itself around Tiger Woods, he would not owe the media anything. If he were just a golfer he could invoke the spirit of Charles (I am not a role model) Barkley, make amends with his wife and family, return to the game on his own time schedule, and refuse to engage the media circus any further.
When it comes down to it, golf is just a game and Tiger is just a player. He is not a public official and his judgment does not directly affect the lives and well being of anyone outside his circle of friends, family and associates.
There are plenty of people in public life who deserve the kind of scrutiny and harsh judgment that is bestowed on the world’s most famous (now infamous) athlete for they have assumed a public stance and their pronouncements and decisions have had a profound effect on the lives and well being of millions, indeed, on the welfare of the nation and the world.
They include the “experts” and officials who served as propagandists and perpetrators of the nation’s most disgraceful war since Vietnam and their names include retired Generals David Grange, Wayne Downing, James Marks and Barry McCaffrey, retired Major Generals Don Sheppard and Bob Scales, retired Lieutenant General Tom McInerney, retired Colonels Wayne Allard and William Cowan, retired Captain Charles Nash, and of course the irrepressible torturer-in-chief Dick Cheney. Virtually all of these so-called “experts” had active interests in the war machine and were serving as nothing less than lobbyists.
If anyone deserves to pay the price of public humiliation, loss of credibility and the scarlet letter of betrayal it is the government propagandist who charades under the guise of an impartial media analyst.
Tiger Woods betrayed his wife. These individuals betrayed the nation and every soldier who would come to serve in that misbegotten war. And yet they still appear as media experts without any revelation of their checkered pasts. Of course for the media to expose them they would have to reveal their own complicity in cowardly compromise and this they will not do.
Another class of media pundit that deserves an indelible mark of shame is the economist or economic expert that promoted endless deregulation of the financial markets for more than a decade and failed to foresee the inevitable collapse in the housing market, triggering a cascade of implosions that brought the global economy to its knees.
They include Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, Ben Stein of commercial fame, former Senator Phil Gramm, Allan Meltzer of the American Enterprise Institute, Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke, former Times columnist Bill Kristol, Milton Friedman, Bruce Bartlett, virtually every major bank president, every CEO of a major financial institution, and countless others. Given the bipartisan consensus initiated by former president Clinton, there are in fact only a handful of economic experts who did not get it wrong and none of them are in positions of power today. So be it. Anyone who was so blinded by group think that they could not see this train wreck coming does not deserve to be considered an expert in the field.
Tiger Woods cheated on his wife and got caught. These people helped to defraud every stock and pension holder in the world and escaped unscathed, often with multi-million dollar bonuses. If we gave these individuals the public flogging they deserve they would not be empowered to fight back essential financial institution reforms today.
The time will come when the advocates of the Afghan war and global “free” trade will also come to judgment. When it is finally determined beyond doubt that our efforts in Afghanistan are in vain and that the trade policies of neo-liberalism have created an economic divide on par with feudalism, then all those pretenders should step forward for their own public humiliation.
But we should not be vengeful. It is not punishment we desire. It is only information to which we should be entitled. We need not place a permanent mark on their brows that would force them to confront their failures in everyday life. We need only a reminder when they appear on television or in a public forum. I suggest a lapel pin (where they used to wear the American flag) with the bright red letter W.
W is for wrong. Wear it proudly or remain silent. Either way the public interest will be served.
Meantime, call off the dogs and let Tiger tend to his own life. He has brought shame upon himself but he does not deserve a constant drubbing from a media that has its own burdens to bear.
Jazz.
“Behind TV Analysts, Pentagon’s Hidden Hand” by David Barstow, New York Times, April 20, 2008.
“How Did Economists Get It So Wrong?” by Paul Krugman, New York Times Magazine, September 2, 2009.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). A COLUMNIST FOR THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS, WORLD EDITION, HIS CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB. SEE WWW.JAZZMANCHRONICLES.BLOGSPOT.COM.
THE SCARLET LETTER: W IS FOR WRONG
By Jack Random
I was wrong. I was foolish. I don't get to play by different rules. The same boundaries that apply to everyone apply to me.
Tiger Woods, February 19, 2010.
Few economists saw our current crisis coming, but this predictive failure was the least of the field’s problems. More important was the profession’s blindness to the very possibility of catastrophic failures in a market economy.
Paul Krugman, September 2, 2009.
Tiger Woods was compelled by media outcry to stand before the cameras and submit to public humiliation. For some fifteen minutes on a Friday morning the world stopped to witness the event and sit in judgment on the sincerity of his contrition. Within seconds of his scripted performance the media was clamoring for more. They feel entitled. The public needs to know. The public demands.
Tiger Woods will no doubt deliver in the fullness of time. He is no longer a golfer. He is no longer the man destined to break Jack Nicklaus’s record of eighteen major golf championships. He is a serial adulterer. He wears a scarlet letter. He will always wear it. Someday he will return to the sport in which he excels and his accomplishments may again outweigh the foibles of his private life but he will never lose the scarlet letter.
The world is not a just place. It is no more just that a golfer should make hundreds of millions of dollars and be crowned the king of a billion dollar corporation than it is for that same golfer to submit to public humiliation for private wrongs.
If not for the corporate monster that has planted itself around Tiger Woods, he would not owe the media anything. If he were just a golfer he could invoke the spirit of Charles (I am not a role model) Barkley, make amends with his wife and family, return to the game on his own time schedule, and refuse to engage the media circus any further.
When it comes down to it, golf is just a game and Tiger is just a player. He is not a public official and his judgment does not directly affect the lives and well being of anyone outside his circle of friends, family and associates.
There are plenty of people in public life who deserve the kind of scrutiny and harsh judgment that is bestowed on the world’s most famous (now infamous) athlete for they have assumed a public stance and their pronouncements and decisions have had a profound effect on the lives and well being of millions, indeed, on the welfare of the nation and the world.
They include the “experts” and officials who served as propagandists and perpetrators of the nation’s most disgraceful war since Vietnam and their names include retired Generals David Grange, Wayne Downing, James Marks and Barry McCaffrey, retired Major Generals Don Sheppard and Bob Scales, retired Lieutenant General Tom McInerney, retired Colonels Wayne Allard and William Cowan, retired Captain Charles Nash, and of course the irrepressible torturer-in-chief Dick Cheney. Virtually all of these so-called “experts” had active interests in the war machine and were serving as nothing less than lobbyists.
If anyone deserves to pay the price of public humiliation, loss of credibility and the scarlet letter of betrayal it is the government propagandist who charades under the guise of an impartial media analyst.
Tiger Woods betrayed his wife. These individuals betrayed the nation and every soldier who would come to serve in that misbegotten war. And yet they still appear as media experts without any revelation of their checkered pasts. Of course for the media to expose them they would have to reveal their own complicity in cowardly compromise and this they will not do.
Another class of media pundit that deserves an indelible mark of shame is the economist or economic expert that promoted endless deregulation of the financial markets for more than a decade and failed to foresee the inevitable collapse in the housing market, triggering a cascade of implosions that brought the global economy to its knees.
They include Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, Ben Stein of commercial fame, former Senator Phil Gramm, Allan Meltzer of the American Enterprise Institute, Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke, former Times columnist Bill Kristol, Milton Friedman, Bruce Bartlett, virtually every major bank president, every CEO of a major financial institution, and countless others. Given the bipartisan consensus initiated by former president Clinton, there are in fact only a handful of economic experts who did not get it wrong and none of them are in positions of power today. So be it. Anyone who was so blinded by group think that they could not see this train wreck coming does not deserve to be considered an expert in the field.
Tiger Woods cheated on his wife and got caught. These people helped to defraud every stock and pension holder in the world and escaped unscathed, often with multi-million dollar bonuses. If we gave these individuals the public flogging they deserve they would not be empowered to fight back essential financial institution reforms today.
The time will come when the advocates of the Afghan war and global “free” trade will also come to judgment. When it is finally determined beyond doubt that our efforts in Afghanistan are in vain and that the trade policies of neo-liberalism have created an economic divide on par with feudalism, then all those pretenders should step forward for their own public humiliation.
But we should not be vengeful. It is not punishment we desire. It is only information to which we should be entitled. We need not place a permanent mark on their brows that would force them to confront their failures in everyday life. We need only a reminder when they appear on television or in a public forum. I suggest a lapel pin (where they used to wear the American flag) with the bright red letter W.
W is for wrong. Wear it proudly or remain silent. Either way the public interest will be served.
Meantime, call off the dogs and let Tiger tend to his own life. He has brought shame upon himself but he does not deserve a constant drubbing from a media that has its own burdens to bear.
Jazz.
“Behind TV Analysts, Pentagon’s Hidden Hand” by David Barstow, New York Times, April 20, 2008.
“How Did Economists Get It So Wrong?” by Paul Krugman, New York Times Magazine, September 2, 2009.
JACK RANDOM IS THE AUTHOR OF THE JAZZMAN CHRONICLES (CROW DOG PRESS) AND GHOST DANCE INSURRECTION (DRY BONES PRESS). A COLUMNIST FOR THE NATIONAL FREE PRESS, WORLD EDITION, HIS CHRONICLES HAVE BEEN POSTED ON NUMEROUS CITES OF THE WORLDWIDE WEB. SEE WWW.JAZZMANCHRONICLES.BLOGSPOT.COM.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Remembering Howard Zinn: August 24 1922 – January 27 2010
Howard Zinn, author of "A People's History of the United States," died Wednesday at the age of 87.
Adapted from the Harper Collins Summary: Howard Zinn was a historian, playwright, and social activist. He was a shipyard worker and Air Force bombardier before he went to college under the GI Bill and received his Ph.D. from Columbia University. He taught at Spelman College and Boston University, and was a visiting professor at the University of Paris and the University of Bologna. He received the Thomas Merton Award, the Eugene V. Debs Award, the Upton Sinclair Award, and the Lannan Literary Award. He lived in Auburndale, Massachusetts.
“He was the best human being I've ever known. The best example of what a human can be, and can do with their life.”
Daniel Ellsberg
“I always wondered why Howard Zinn was considered a radical. He was an unbelievably decent man who felt obliged to challenge injustice and unfairness wherever he found it. What was so radical about believing that workers should get a fair shake on the job, that corporations have too much power over our lives and much too much influence with the government, that wars are so murderously destructive that alternatives to warfare should be found, that blacks and other racial and ethnic minorities should have the same rights as whites, that the interests of powerful political leaders and corporate elites are not the same as those of ordinary people who are struggling from week to week to make ends meet?”
Bob Herbert (NY Times)
"He's made an amazing contribution to American intellectual and moral culture. He's changed the conscience of America in a highly constructive way. I really can't think of anyone I can compare him to in this respect. He was a person of real courage and integrity, warmth and humor.”
Noam Chomsky
"Howard had a great mind and was one of the great voices in the American political life. He taught me how valuable -- how necessary -- dissent was to democracy and to America itself. He taught that history was made by the everyman, not the elites. I was lucky enough to know him personally and I will carry with me what I learned from him -- and try to impart it to my own children -- in his memory."
Ben Affleck
"Howard had a genius for the shape of public morality and for articulating the great alternative vision of peace as more than a dream. But above all, he had a genius for the practical meaning of love. [He was] simply one of the greatest Americans of our time. He will not be replaced -- or soon forgotten.”
James Carroll (Boston Globe)
“Zinn's brand of history put common citizens at the center of the story and inspired generations of young activists and academics to remember that change is possible.”
Peter Rothberg (The Nation)
“Zinn's influence will live on in the great power of his words, and the courage and modesty with which he lived his life.”
Victoria Brittain (The Guardian)
"From the start, my teaching was infused with my own history. I would try to be fair to other points of view, but I wanted more than 'objectivity'; I wanted students to leave my classes not just better informed, but more prepared to relinquish the safety of silence, more prepared to speak up, to act against injustice wherever they saw it.”
Howard Zinn
“Where progress has been made, wherever any kind of injustice has been overturned, it's been because people acted as citizens, and not as politicians. They didn't just moan. They worked, they acted, they organised, they rioted if necessary to bring their situation to the attention of people in power. And that's what we have to do today."
Howard Zinn
"My hope is that you will not be content just to be successful in the way our society measures success; that you will not obey the rules, when the rules are unjust; that you will act out the courage that I know is in you."
Howard Zinn
Random Note: When I made plans to publish the Jazzman Chronicles I sought the comments and support of America’s two pre-eminent progressives: Chomsky and Zinn. Zinn replied that he did not have time to read my work but encouraged me to keep writing. When I pressed him to comment on a short essay entitled True History he replied “… a succinct and heartfelt statement about the importance of teaching good history to the new generation.” He was and is a hero who fought the good fight to the end of his days and I will always be grateful.
Jazz.
Adapted from the Harper Collins Summary: Howard Zinn was a historian, playwright, and social activist. He was a shipyard worker and Air Force bombardier before he went to college under the GI Bill and received his Ph.D. from Columbia University. He taught at Spelman College and Boston University, and was a visiting professor at the University of Paris and the University of Bologna. He received the Thomas Merton Award, the Eugene V. Debs Award, the Upton Sinclair Award, and the Lannan Literary Award. He lived in Auburndale, Massachusetts.
“He was the best human being I've ever known. The best example of what a human can be, and can do with their life.”
Daniel Ellsberg
“I always wondered why Howard Zinn was considered a radical. He was an unbelievably decent man who felt obliged to challenge injustice and unfairness wherever he found it. What was so radical about believing that workers should get a fair shake on the job, that corporations have too much power over our lives and much too much influence with the government, that wars are so murderously destructive that alternatives to warfare should be found, that blacks and other racial and ethnic minorities should have the same rights as whites, that the interests of powerful political leaders and corporate elites are not the same as those of ordinary people who are struggling from week to week to make ends meet?”
Bob Herbert (NY Times)
"He's made an amazing contribution to American intellectual and moral culture. He's changed the conscience of America in a highly constructive way. I really can't think of anyone I can compare him to in this respect. He was a person of real courage and integrity, warmth and humor.”
Noam Chomsky
"Howard had a great mind and was one of the great voices in the American political life. He taught me how valuable -- how necessary -- dissent was to democracy and to America itself. He taught that history was made by the everyman, not the elites. I was lucky enough to know him personally and I will carry with me what I learned from him -- and try to impart it to my own children -- in his memory."
Ben Affleck
"Howard had a genius for the shape of public morality and for articulating the great alternative vision of peace as more than a dream. But above all, he had a genius for the practical meaning of love. [He was] simply one of the greatest Americans of our time. He will not be replaced -- or soon forgotten.”
James Carroll (Boston Globe)
“Zinn's brand of history put common citizens at the center of the story and inspired generations of young activists and academics to remember that change is possible.”
Peter Rothberg (The Nation)
“Zinn's influence will live on in the great power of his words, and the courage and modesty with which he lived his life.”
Victoria Brittain (The Guardian)
"From the start, my teaching was infused with my own history. I would try to be fair to other points of view, but I wanted more than 'objectivity'; I wanted students to leave my classes not just better informed, but more prepared to relinquish the safety of silence, more prepared to speak up, to act against injustice wherever they saw it.”
Howard Zinn
“Where progress has been made, wherever any kind of injustice has been overturned, it's been because people acted as citizens, and not as politicians. They didn't just moan. They worked, they acted, they organised, they rioted if necessary to bring their situation to the attention of people in power. And that's what we have to do today."
Howard Zinn
"My hope is that you will not be content just to be successful in the way our society measures success; that you will not obey the rules, when the rules are unjust; that you will act out the courage that I know is in you."
Howard Zinn
Random Note: When I made plans to publish the Jazzman Chronicles I sought the comments and support of America’s two pre-eminent progressives: Chomsky and Zinn. Zinn replied that he did not have time to read my work but encouraged me to keep writing. When I pressed him to comment on a short essay entitled True History he replied “… a succinct and heartfelt statement about the importance of teaching good history to the new generation.” He was and is a hero who fought the good fight to the end of his days and I will always be grateful.
Jazz.
Beatlick Travel Report 2010: Marfa TX
Date: Jan 30, 2010 11:18 AM
Marfa, Texas
While we were visiting in Fort Stockton Beatlick Joe and I were really impressed by Marfa’s public radio station KRTS 93.5 “radio for a wide range,” so we decided to stop for the weekend and check out some of the activities mentioned on the air. We had spent a cold night in Marathon with freezing rain that left the van coated in ice so we were grateful to see clouds in the vast sky break up and the temperature rise as we drove the 60 mile stretch into the Marfa Plateau.
We have passed through Marfa a number of times traveling down Highway 90 on our destinations elsewhere. Staying on that route the place looked like so many other hard-luck scenes in Texas, we really thought it was a little one-trick pony town touting its mystery lights, not unlike Roswell, cashing in on a local phenomenon.
We passed by the Marfa Lights Viewing Center nine miles from town. We judge that a good place to park overnight sometime. Native inhabitants were aware of Marfa’s mysterious lights long before the first recording of them back in 1883. The whole concept is so popular now that the town provides this accommodating viewing station and a festival on Labor Day weekend.
It was only after we pulled off of 90 and ventured closer into the heart of town that we saw how truly unique and interesting Marfa is. We urban camped right beside the Paisano Hotel which had a great bar, fireplace and wonderful big old bathrooms off of the lobby where you can lock yourself in for complete privacy and enjoy a big sink with lots of hot water. We haven’t had it this good since the Bisbee library in Arizona. The hotel hosts a large display of memorabilia from the movie “Giant.” Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean and Rock Hudson all spent time there and left behind their autographed photos.
We strolled around and enjoyed the beautiful buildings, coffee shops and art galleries all looking neatly spruced up and tidy. Our itinerary included KRTS, the Marfa Book Company, and Ballroom Marfa where an international film project was holding a reception. What an interesting crowd showed up. There seems to be a large draw of young people from Sul Ross University less than 30 miles away in Alpine. The art scene is huge here and we spoke to so many young people who have moved here from Boston, Austin , Berlin, you name it.
Apparently Donald Judd laid the foundation for the town’s heavy art scene in the mid-1970s when he established the Chinati Foundation, which today houses a permanent collection of contemporary art as well as temporary exhibits by artists in residence. One night on Marfa Radio they were interviewing two Germans who came to Marfa and created an art installation by taking apart an entire automobile and reconstructing it into two bicycles.
The “Art in the Auditorium” at Ballroom Marfa is a global collaboration between museums and art spaces in Italy, Norway, Turkey, Argentina, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and the United States. There were two large rooms with short films by seven up and coming filmmakers. One of the film directors was in attendance, Aida Ruilova. Her seven-minute short “Meet the Eye,” was filmed on a sound stage in Los Angeles and featured Karen Black of “Easy Rider” fame and LA artist Raymond Pettibon.
Black is expressing her anxieties to the male lead about her futile struggle to remember something. Pettibon is secretly carving a peephole in the wall. When Black does look through the hole she sees a scene of death, which ironically is the thing she is trying to remember. It’s pretty abstract as Truelove’s work is critiqued to be. The plot could be deciphered as the actor meeting herself in that dreamlike dimension. The petite former punk rocker said to her knowledge Marfa was the only town in America hosting the international collaboration.
“Dead Forest (Storm) by Charley Nijensohn of Buenos Aires was my personal favorite, totally surreal and I couldn’t figure out how in the world it was shot. Filmed in the Amazon Basin where the plight of the area’s deforestation is well documented a man is standing unprotected on a small floating craft, not much bigger than a log. It is pouring down rain and all you hear is the downpour with the visual of the man floating through a flooded landscape of blackened dead tree stumps. The relentless rain robs the scene of any color and the man drifts so precariously perched on his tiny craft, pummeled by the precipitation, as endangered as the rain forest.
We will stay the weekend and head on to El Paso. I have an appointment with an endodontist to get a root canal. Apparently I am such a unique and special person that I have grown four roots from my problem tooth instead of the usual three. So it is this fourth one which requires a root canal. I wish I could use these odds to work in my favor in Las Vegas.
So we completely changed our plans and won’t be back at Astor Park in the Big Bend area until March and April. Then we will continue our ultimate survival camp experience. In the meantime we will go to Truth or Consequences where we hope to park at the Artesian Hot Springs for a month. You can do that for only $125 with a discount on the hot baths and access to electricity. That sounds pretty plush to us.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Marfa, Texas
While we were visiting in Fort Stockton Beatlick Joe and I were really impressed by Marfa’s public radio station KRTS 93.5 “radio for a wide range,” so we decided to stop for the weekend and check out some of the activities mentioned on the air. We had spent a cold night in Marathon with freezing rain that left the van coated in ice so we were grateful to see clouds in the vast sky break up and the temperature rise as we drove the 60 mile stretch into the Marfa Plateau.
We have passed through Marfa a number of times traveling down Highway 90 on our destinations elsewhere. Staying on that route the place looked like so many other hard-luck scenes in Texas, we really thought it was a little one-trick pony town touting its mystery lights, not unlike Roswell, cashing in on a local phenomenon.
We passed by the Marfa Lights Viewing Center nine miles from town. We judge that a good place to park overnight sometime. Native inhabitants were aware of Marfa’s mysterious lights long before the first recording of them back in 1883. The whole concept is so popular now that the town provides this accommodating viewing station and a festival on Labor Day weekend.
It was only after we pulled off of 90 and ventured closer into the heart of town that we saw how truly unique and interesting Marfa is. We urban camped right beside the Paisano Hotel which had a great bar, fireplace and wonderful big old bathrooms off of the lobby where you can lock yourself in for complete privacy and enjoy a big sink with lots of hot water. We haven’t had it this good since the Bisbee library in Arizona. The hotel hosts a large display of memorabilia from the movie “Giant.” Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean and Rock Hudson all spent time there and left behind their autographed photos.
We strolled around and enjoyed the beautiful buildings, coffee shops and art galleries all looking neatly spruced up and tidy. Our itinerary included KRTS, the Marfa Book Company, and Ballroom Marfa where an international film project was holding a reception. What an interesting crowd showed up. There seems to be a large draw of young people from Sul Ross University less than 30 miles away in Alpine. The art scene is huge here and we spoke to so many young people who have moved here from Boston, Austin , Berlin, you name it.
Apparently Donald Judd laid the foundation for the town’s heavy art scene in the mid-1970s when he established the Chinati Foundation, which today houses a permanent collection of contemporary art as well as temporary exhibits by artists in residence. One night on Marfa Radio they were interviewing two Germans who came to Marfa and created an art installation by taking apart an entire automobile and reconstructing it into two bicycles.
The “Art in the Auditorium” at Ballroom Marfa is a global collaboration between museums and art spaces in Italy, Norway, Turkey, Argentina, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and the United States. There were two large rooms with short films by seven up and coming filmmakers. One of the film directors was in attendance, Aida Ruilova. Her seven-minute short “Meet the Eye,” was filmed on a sound stage in Los Angeles and featured Karen Black of “Easy Rider” fame and LA artist Raymond Pettibon.
Black is expressing her anxieties to the male lead about her futile struggle to remember something. Pettibon is secretly carving a peephole in the wall. When Black does look through the hole she sees a scene of death, which ironically is the thing she is trying to remember. It’s pretty abstract as Truelove’s work is critiqued to be. The plot could be deciphered as the actor meeting herself in that dreamlike dimension. The petite former punk rocker said to her knowledge Marfa was the only town in America hosting the international collaboration.
“Dead Forest (Storm) by Charley Nijensohn of Buenos Aires was my personal favorite, totally surreal and I couldn’t figure out how in the world it was shot. Filmed in the Amazon Basin where the plight of the area’s deforestation is well documented a man is standing unprotected on a small floating craft, not much bigger than a log. It is pouring down rain and all you hear is the downpour with the visual of the man floating through a flooded landscape of blackened dead tree stumps. The relentless rain robs the scene of any color and the man drifts so precariously perched on his tiny craft, pummeled by the precipitation, as endangered as the rain forest.
We will stay the weekend and head on to El Paso. I have an appointment with an endodontist to get a root canal. Apparently I am such a unique and special person that I have grown four roots from my problem tooth instead of the usual three. So it is this fourth one which requires a root canal. I wish I could use these odds to work in my favor in Las Vegas.
So we completely changed our plans and won’t be back at Astor Park in the Big Bend area until March and April. Then we will continue our ultimate survival camp experience. In the meantime we will go to Truth or Consequences where we hope to park at the Artesian Hot Springs for a month. You can do that for only $125 with a discount on the hot baths and access to electricity. That sounds pretty plush to us.
Happy Trails
Beatlick Pamela
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Boston Alarm Redux
The alarm goes off and a procession of skulls materialize ahead of the engine. Handing out tickets to the destruction, they're followed by the curious and together they gather as the house falls in on itself. Screams, you can't hear them anymore. Three alarm, four? How many engines need to respond? Pull the body out through the window even if the skin pulls away? This is democracy in action. We don't mind to see the sausage made, we don't care if the blood gets into the ground. The table is set and its no longer an indoor sport.
Gathering to vote we pass one another and curse the voting line. Its more interesting to watch on television. Download a copy of the Bill of Rights in pdf. Your elected officials are just like the bull in the china shop and you are the smallest crystal cup. But you like it this way. Its only a crisis of conscious if everyone around you says they will agree. Foreign aid will take your job away but it won't stop you from filling your life with goods from China. Made in America was never going to make it past the parking lot. You used to be a card carrying hypocrite until like so many other words you forgot the meaning while you were in line to look away.
Chris Mansel
Gathering to vote we pass one another and curse the voting line. Its more interesting to watch on television. Download a copy of the Bill of Rights in pdf. Your elected officials are just like the bull in the china shop and you are the smallest crystal cup. But you like it this way. Its only a crisis of conscious if everyone around you says they will agree. Foreign aid will take your job away but it won't stop you from filling your life with goods from China. Made in America was never going to make it past the parking lot. You used to be a card carrying hypocrite until like so many other words you forgot the meaning while you were in line to look away.
Chris Mansel
Monday, January 25, 2010
Boston Alarm
If the ruling party fails to heed the warning sounded by the senatorial special election in Massachusetts then the midterm elections will be a massacre. If the only lessons learned are the need to retool the message or the necessity of hand-to-hand campaigning, then the party is deaf to the cry of the people and therefore fundamentally incapable of governing.
Frankly we don’t care what the message is any more as long as jobs are being delivered yesterday. Frankly we don’t want to shake hands with any candidate. We just want to know that she or he is working for us and not the multi-billion dollar corporations that finance the bulk of all political campaigns.
For a year we have waited for something positive to come out of Washington and the ruling party gave us a Wall Street bailout and a healthcare package so brutalized it was hard to tell who wrote it: corporate lawyers or Washington lobbyists.
When you don’t have a job you really don’t care about healthcare insurance and the last thing you want to hear is mandatory coverage. Is there anyone listening?
Frankly we don’t care what the message is any more as long as jobs are being delivered yesterday. Frankly we don’t want to shake hands with any candidate. We just want to know that she or he is working for us and not the multi-billion dollar corporations that finance the bulk of all political campaigns.
For a year we have waited for something positive to come out of Washington and the ruling party gave us a Wall Street bailout and a healthcare package so brutalized it was hard to tell who wrote it: corporate lawyers or Washington lobbyists.
When you don’t have a job you really don’t care about healthcare insurance and the last thing you want to hear is mandatory coverage. Is there anyone listening?
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