All posts by Joseph

Usual Rubbish

King of the F-ups.

What the hell. Did I get that wrong, too? Jesus Christ on a bike. Just make a freaking list, okay. And no, I’m not making a special effort to be polite today – that’s just the way I talk … every day.

Oh, hello. Didn’t know you were reading what I appear to be typing in my sleep. Yes, just spending a day exploring my human failings, which appear to be depressingly similar to those of other humans. No, I didn’t think of myself as somehow elevated above the herd. It’s just that I can SEE all of them, whereas I can’t see MY ass unless I’m looking in a mirror. And there are no unbroken mirrors in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. (That should come as no surprise.)

What was I “effing up”, as they say? Well … a couple of things. Last night I left Trevor James Constable’s orgone generating machine running at full tilt. Mitch Macaphee says it came up as a blip on his stellar infrarometer, whatever the hell that is. I apparently  created an anomaly in the space-time continuum that nearly achieved the mass displacement value of the planet Neptune. This hole in the fabric of space might have swallowed the Earth whole had it been allowed to continue. (It’s the kind of anomaly that might do its grocery shopping in the Whole Earth Catalog, if you know what I mean.)

Oh, hell. Did I do that?Okay, so THAT disaster was averted. No doubt there will be other threats to mankind caused by carelessness and listlessness, but they won’t happen on my watch. Maybe on Mitch’s watch. (He’s got one hell of a watch.) But then I had to go and make a pancake breakfast for everyone. We were out of baking powder, but I went ahead and made them anyway, just to show all those snobby cooks that I won’t be ruled by protocol. I have my pride, you know. My pride and a bunch of inedible flapjacks.

Well, you know what they say – stick to what you know. If you’re going to fuck something up, it’s best that you put your whole heart and soul into it. It’s like playing that sour note in the middle of a solo. Just hammer that sucker again and again – hit it like you mean it. That’s the stuff. Now … have some pancakes. (No, really … get them out of my sight.)

Political Rants

News dump.

Lots going on this week, so I’ll comment on a few random things. Stop me if it gets confusing.

Cuba vs. Cuba. The spectacle of Cruz and Rubio spouting anti-immigration rhetoric in a kind of xenophobic pissing match is hypocritical beyond belief. Here are two examples of the offspring of Cuban exiles, their parents having arrived in the United States under the extremely preferential terms that have been in effect for Cuban immigrants since the early 1960s, an experience nothing like what immigrants from other Central American nations have to deal with. When you leave revolutionary Cuba and go to the U.S., you have a golden ticket. You’re practically guaranteed a green card and a place in the exile community. Compare that with what you face when you run here escaping the drug gangs in El Salvador – a cell in an outsourced cinder-block detention facility and an eventual boot out the door.

Pick the hypocrite. (Hint: black suit)The Cuban exile policy is the perfect illustration of what these GOP pols complain about with regard to incentivizing the influx of undocumented immigrants, and yet they have no problem with folks flocking here from Cuba because they can’t earn a lot of money back home. But when it comes to families running for their lives from the hell holes we helped destroy during the 1980s, that’s different. If the likes of Cruz and Rubio had had their way, Cuba would be a free market basket case like El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, and every other disaster area we “helped” over the years. Of course, then the legions of exiles fleeing drug gangs would find no red carpet on these shores.

Get the lead out. The water crisis in Flint Michigan reminds me of the slow motion disaster that was New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina, when every level of government seemed paralyzed by a kind of neoliberal lethargy. We are not seeing government rushing to the aid of the people their austerity programs have poisoned. Who says austerity doesn’t ruin lives? For chrissake, it doesn’t even save money. The financial cost (to say nothing of the staggering human cost) of a generation of young children stricken by lead poisoning far outstrips the amount of funds it would have taken to keep Flint on marginally potable water. Someone needs to go to jail over this, but since the crisis mostly affects people of color, that seems doubtful.

Iran lets the neocons down. They were hoping for another hostage crisis, but were sorely disappointed, I expect, when the Iranian government released captured U.S. naval personnel after 16 hours. This is the sort of touch point that would have started the neocons’ much sought-after war with Persia back a few years ago. No such luck, boys and girls. Though my principal question is, what the fuck were our sailors doing there? Who sent them on this fool’s errand and why? No answers yet.

luv u,

jp

Usual Rubbish

Year seventeen.

Aren’t you sick of the Gregorian calendar? I’m thinking we should start calculating time on the basis of how long we’ve been blogging. So hell … call this Year 17. Happy 17! Four more years and we can drink in front of our parents! (Four years of what we’ve got coming, and I suspect we will need to.)

I know you’re all wondering what we’ve got planned for the new year. I know this because I can read your mind like a billboard. Just call me Kreskin. Or Criswell. Whichever works … just be sure to preface it with “THE AMAZING … ” or I’ll have to bring my $3.95 magic set back to the toy store, top hat and all. (Some Christmas THIS turned out to be!) Anyway, as I said, I’m sure you’re wondering, and if you are, well, you’re not alone, because we’re wondering what the hell Big Green is going to do this year, too. Maybe call a contractor to fix the leaky windows in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. (Question: Is a large, jagged hole in the glass considered a “leak”?)

There’s been talk of another album. I mean, a Big Green album, of course, not just some random album we picked up at the second hand store. (Though there has been talk of that, too.) The next obvious project would be a collection of Ned Trek related songs, upgraded and in some cases re-recorded from the versions on our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN. We wrote about 15 or 16 songs last year, maybe more, and re-recorded some older pieces, so there’s enough material, particularly when you consider the 30 or so from the previous two years. Of course, Matt walks in with a new song practically every week, so about all I can do is try to keep up with the fucker. FUCKER!

I think the dictionary is in Smith's quarters. Get it.Hoo-boy, there’s an echo in here. And I’m getting dirty looks from the neighbors, so I should wrap this up. Will we be doing any live performances this year? Don’t know. It’s always a possibility. Matt talks about it from time to time, and I certainly think about it. There’s the logistical issue, of course, and then there’s …. well … making it sound like something more than pure suckitude. But those are relatively minor problems in the grand scheme of things.

What does that mean, exactly? Not sure. I will consult Marvin (my personal robot assistant), whose electronic brain is programmed to interpret the most abstruse sentences imaginable. Hope his batteries are fully recharged.