All posts by Joseph

Hot spot.

What the hell kind of itinerary is this? I have never seen a more incompetent attempt at organizing a freaking interstellar tour. Who put this bullshit together, anyway? Me? Oh … oh dear.

Well, as usual, I spoke too soon.  Not the first time. Honestly, I don’t know why my bandmates don’t look over my shoulder when I volunteer to do shit like this. After all, I’m just connecting dots on a map. I’m not a rocket scientist or anything. Sure, I used to launch Estes rockets when I was 10 or 11, but that was kind of a long time ago, and I think technology has moved on a bit since those days of cardboard tubes, butyrate dope, and solid fuel engines. Oh, and ignition wires. Yeah …. Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, has moved beyond those texts. He of all people should have known that what I was suggesting was just plain impossible.

Let me explain. The third leg of our Ned Trek Live Springtime Extravaganza Tour 2019 brought us to Sirius and then back to the great red spot on Saturn. All well and good, right? Trouble is, our next gig is on Saturday in the Small Magellanic Cloud, which I am now reliably told is nearly 200,000 light years away. Jesus. No wonder it looks small. Even pedal to the metal, it will probably take far longer than the rest of human history for us to get even halfway there.

 Damn. Just imagine the size of the BIG one.

What’s worse, even if we were to make it the the Cloud by Saturday or several aeons after that, it’s a freaking galaxy that is itself about 7,000 light years wide, so it may take us a while to find exactly where we’re expected to perform. (My contact in the Cloud told me we couldn’t miss it, but then she or he is a transcendental being without form or persistent location in time-space, so everywhere is as close as it needs to be for that fucker.)

I hate to cancel a paid engagement, but unless we find a serious wormhole or radically rewrite the laws of physics in the next day or so, we may have no choice. Besides, that gig on Sirius was a serious pain in the butt, and the big Red Spot isn’t as hot as it used to be back in the day. Hell, the older it gets, the slower it turns, and well … there goes the electricity, my friends. So I’m for packing up and heading home. What about the rest of you? Show of hands? All in favor, say aye! Anyone for an aye? Don’t all speak at once.

Uniformly unjust.

Our president – who should really think twice before putting on that tux (one word, Mr. President: cumberbund) has been contemplating a pre-emptive pardon for former Navy Seal Edward R. Gallagher, who faces court martial for premeditated murder, attempted murder, obstruction of justice, and more. Gallagher’s fellow Seals have called him out for some pretty heinous acts, including stabbing to death a young ISIS fighter who was in custody, wounded, and basically helpless, then parading the body in photos and conducting a re-enlistment ceremony over it. For Trump, of course, this makes Gallagher a hero, because he fits the First Man-baby’s warped notion of toughness – I expect nothing more from the likes of him.

Gallagher has another defender in congressman and Iraq war veteran Duncan Hunter, who sees nothing wrong in killing people in custody and using old men, young girls, etc. for target practice. Hunter’s position is basically that Gallagher’s crimes are no different from what he, Hunter, did in Fallujah, where he credibly claims to have killed hundreds of civilians. Of course, the military leadership disagrees – there is a thing called the Uniform Code of Military Justice and, more generally, accepted laws and norms of warfare, and for a variety of reasons the generals want to keep good order and discipline in the ranks. Granted, the laws of war tend to be loose enough to drive a tank through, but they do exist and they exist for specific reasons having to do with maintaining good order and discipline and perpetuating the myth that our mission is always the betterment of the peoples we invade and subdue. (Abusive practices also open our own captured service members to similar abuses.)

Our instrument in the levant

Strangely, Hunter almost stumbles onto an uncomfortable truth here. In a certain respect, there isn’t a lot of difference between firing artillery rounds into civilian neighborhoods in Fallujah and shooting civilians like turkeys in Syria. Both are predictable outcomes of the criminal decision to send our massive military into these countries in the first place. That decision is not made by the service members who fight the wars – it is ultimately made by us. Nowadays almost no one wants to own the war in Iraq (aside from crackpots like Bolton), but by not restraining our own government from proceeding with it back in 2003, we are all responsible for what has resulted from that decision. Hunter and Gallagher were the instruments of that policy, and as such, in a sense are less culpable than we are … or, as citizens themselves, certainly no more so. With respect to killing young prisoners in cold blood, Gallagher probably bears a higher level of responsibility than someone just mechanically pulling the lanyard, trigger, or whatever to destroy a distant “enemy”.

It’s hard for me to argue with Gallagher’s prosecution. But if justice were to be served, we should all be up there with him.

luv u,

jp

Are you Sirius?

Homeward bound, I wish I was … Hoo boy, I hope Paul Simon isn’t super litigious, like those folks who own the rights to Happy Birthday. Who the hell are they again? And for chrissake, DON’T SING THE BIRTHDAY SONG!

Thing is, we will be heading in the general direction of home over the coming week, that is, after our gig on Sirius tomorrow … depending on how THAT goes. Like most of our interstellar tours, the Ned Trek Live Springtime Extravaganza Tour 2019 is presenting certain challenges and unexpected turns of events. Our concert on Procyon was overshadowed somewhat by a large, dry alien moon. (Fun fact: “dry alien moon” is an anagram of the name Leonard Nimoy.) When I say overshadowed, I mean cast in darkness … which is problematic when you’re playing outdoors. No lights in the venue, because the denizen of Procyon 3 can see in the dark. Interesting evolutionary trick, as it’s a binary system, so when Procyon A goes down, Procyon B is over your shoulder …. until the dry alien moon intervenes.

I ask you – does any other band have to put up with this shit? We need freaking night vision goggles to get through a night. I was playing organ parts on my piano, string parts on my organ. Matt picked up a 12-string guitar to play six string ( of course …. that’s just the way he strings his Ovation Balladeer … nothing to do with the darkness, you understand). The lunar eclipse was still in progress when the gig ended and the promoter handed us our pay packet. We were well out of the planet’s atmosphere before I realized they had paid us in Betelgeusian quatloos, which are virtually worthless back on Earth! Well … you can spend them at Circuit City, Radio Shack, and Blockbuster Video, but that’s about it.

Which Procyon?

Of course, that means when we get to Sirius we have to make some hay. I’m talking Sirius money, people. Their currency is more ethereal, I understand …. most of their transactions take place via thought transference. So if you’re playing a song that someone likes, they think a few shekels into your membrane. It makes busking a whole hell of a lot easier – none of that passing the hat bullshit. So Marvin (my personal robot assistant), you’re off the hook this week.

Anyway, we’ll see how well we go over on the dog star. Hope they don’t request Werewolves of London. My Zevon is a little rusty.