Frankenplay.

How does this sound for a robot voice? “I am not a crook!” What? Well, yes, that IS my Nixon voice, but I’m doing a Nixon robot, remember? How is that supposed to sound, for crying out loud?

Now, who am I again?Oh, hello out there in Real Worldia. No, this isn’t another pointless argument about some instrument none of us plays. We’re just getting ready to record another episode of our Star Trek parody, Ned Trek, now in its 19th episode, featured on our monthly (or near-monthly, at least) podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN. Not to give away any trade secrets, but I do the voice of the Nixon android, an automaton who holds the entire personal and political history of Richard Milhous Nixon in his memory banks. Likes a good stiff drink every once in a while, Nixon does.

Don’t know if you’ve heard the show, but assuming you haven’t, I’ll give you some idea  of what it’s all about. We take an episode or two of the original Star Trek series and mash it up, replacing the main characters with the following cast members:

  • Willard Mittilius Romney, Captain of the Free Enterprise
  • Mr. Ned, the talking dressage horse, Romney’s first officer
  • Dr. Tom Coburn, ship’s southern-fried surgeon
  • Lt. Richard Pearle, famed neocon and basically a pain in everyone’s ass
  • Mr. Welsh, chief engineer and accent troll
  • Mr. Sulu, helmsman, holdover, and yes, THAT Mr. Sulu

The ship is part of the Confederation of Planets, a dystopian variation of the Star Trek regime, in that it is a grasping, rapacious, hegemonic imperial force bent on exploitation of every planet to within an inch of its life. And, of course, the comedic possibilities that arise from such an entity.

What else? About every other episode we manage to slip a few songs into the mix. The episode we’ll be recording this week will be one of those. Crew members will break into song at random intervals. This is basically our creative output in this stage of Big Green’s lifecycle. What follows this? Compost!

Back to the future.

This past week the president announced the deployment of 300 “military advisers” to Iraq in an effort to address concerns about recent territorial gains by the radical Sunni group Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS). This sparked outrage on the part of the coterie of statist reactionaries (not “conservatives” in any way) who started the 2003 Iraq invasion, all of whom wish to turn back the clock to the days when they had some say over what battalion of other people’s children may be sent to what hell-hole.

Neocon good old days.Of course, they already had their hair on fire about Obama’s foreign policy, particularly with regard to the Middle East. Once again, the alarm bell is cranked up to eleven … like it was for the capture of the Benghazi jihadist, and for the the Bergdahl deal, and for pretty much every thing that happens anywhere, every day of the week. Not sure why we should listen to people like Dan Senor, or John McCain, or Bill Kristol, or anyone else still on television after having been so fantastically wrong on what they were supposed to be experts about, but we keep hearing from them anyway. Go back into Iraq, they say … it’s the only way to keep the country from falling apart.

Fortunately (or not), there is virtually no evidence that American intervention has ever done any underdeveloped country any good at all; quite the opposite, in fact. Our efforts in Afghanistan in the 1980s to rid that country of its Soviet-backed government resulted in more than a generation of civil war, anarchy, and frankly worse government. Our backing of Saddam Hussein during that same period brought disaster to the region, and most sickeningly to Iraq itself; our subsequent removal of Hussein has resulted in calamitous loss of life and a rending of the Iraqi nation that will never be undone.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the very thing advocated by war-lovers like McCain is a primary driver of the current crisis. We have, in fact, been aiding the opposition in Syria, both directly and through proxies in the Gulf. Just as happened in Afghanistan in the 80’s, we have invested in an unstable force whose most aggressive and bellicose elements McCain and others are insisting we must now bomb to smithereens in neighboring Iraq.

When are we going to stop being guided by people who are so reliably wrong?

luv u,

jp

Tossed together.

Not much I can add to that, brother. How about another piano? No, no … not a different individual piano instrument, I mean another piano PART! Holy Jebus!

You are genetically weird.Oh, hi. Sorry about my outburst there. No, I wasn’t having an argument with my illustrious brother Matt, I was just rehearsing for our conversation later on today. I know it may seem strange, but I have to rehearse for just about everything that occurs in my life. Which is even stranger, in fact, because I almost never rehearse for gigs. In fact, you might describe me as downright hostile to the idea. (As a friend once famously said, “Rehearsal is just a crutch for cats who can’t blow.”)

Now I should say here, no one has ever accused Big Green of not blowing. That just never has been part of our DNA. Granted, we have some errant strands in there; some stray genes that make us more susceptible to, say, living in abandoned hammer mills (which, on a rainy day like today, is kind of like living in a water treatment plant) or keeping personal robot assistants … like Marvin (my personal robot assistant). Yeah, we have a lot of personal and genetic history to live down, but we soldier on. Damn the torpedoes! (No, I mean, really, damn them. Those suckers smart.)

Speaking of abandoned hammer mills, we’re hammering out some new songs for the next episode of the podcast. They started out to be “first-draft” essays of the kind we did in 2012 – those rough little numbers that ended up on Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick in slightly less rough shape. But as we go, they keep getting more and more complicated. Recording is more like painting than sculpting, I have to say – you can keep slopping new paint over the old, sometimes until the canvas is inches thick with the stuff. When sculpting, you can only knock so many chunks off that rock before you’re left with … I don’t know … a smaller rock?

Hey, Matt … where’s my spatula? I’m going with the post impressionist look on this one. (Just practicing again. Love to hear the sound of my own echo in this old barn of a place.)

Weird ass music since 1986