Tag Archives: lincoln

News

The Lincoln trilogy: a slight digression

Now, I think you all know that Big Green is bad at predictions. We’re not prognosticators or weather forecasters, and we have no magic stone that allows us to see the future. I can tell you what I’ll have for breakfast tomorrow, but that’s only because I’ve been having the same breakfast for nigh unto thirty years. Anything harder than that is just too damn hard.

That’s a long way of saying that we won’t be releasing our new album this Fall, as we had predicted. After painstaking consideration and much rending of garments (which took about five minutes), we decided to push the release to Spring. Why, you may ask? I offer this simple explanation: the quality goes in before the name goes on. That’s right – making a Big Green album is like building a Zenith radio in the nineteen fifties. The only thing missing is the voice of Bill Conrad.

Now, quality is a relative thing, son

Yes, I know … Big Green isn’t known for maintaining stringent quality control standards. That’s not our jam, mothers. No sir – we try to get the feel right. And when that happens, we know it down to the soles of our cheap-ass shoes. If the overall quality has to suffer, so be it, my friend. Those are our principles. And if you don’t like them, well …. we have other principles.

Still, even Big Green has minimum quality standards. The mixes from this new album were just skimming the bar, low as it may be, so we need a little more time. For we will serve no wine before its …. oh, god damnit! Not another slogan!

So, anyway … we’re giving it another six months, just for good measure. And in the interim, since you’ve been such good children, I will regale you with the story of one of our early songs. As I mentioned before, our upcoming album has a bunch of kind of serious songs, or Gumby songs, if you will. The song we’ll be dissecting today comes from a previous Big Green era, when all of our songs were strange ….. very strange.

You would have liked Lincoln

Speaking of quality, the song I’m going to explore is called Quality Lincoln, and it’s actually a medley of three smaller songs, one building on the randomness of the other. Matt and I wrote it back in 1990 or 1991, I believe, and I don’t believe we ever performed it in front of an audience or recorded it seriously. (Not sure it’s possible to record such a silly song seriously, but I digress.)

We did a cheap-ass basement recording of it for our THIS IS BIG GREEN podcast back in 2016. You can find the full lyric in our lyrics section. Now you can sing along …. but what does it mean?

We don’t pretend to know the meaning of any of our songs, but here’s my take, based on years of close textual reading, tarot cards, astrological deep dives, and so on.

Shouldn’t happen to our quality nation’s president

So the song starts with:

Lincoln suffered from depression, Joe
but it wasn’t because of the war, you know
and it wasn’t because of his son who died
or the wacky behavior of his bride

Okay, picture a suburban couch potato back in the 1980s. Maybe s/he is watching something about Lincoln or reading a magazine article. This is the take-away (and I don’t mean snacks from the local noodle shop) – Lincoln had a rare disease | that turned him into a chimpanzee | They didn’t have the know-how in those days.

This is the nature of pre-internet conspiracy theory – using legacy media to fill in the blanks, connecting things that are both questionable and wholly unrelated to one another.

How do we get into outer space? It’s all about Colonel Smith, played by the character actor Henry Jones in Lost In Space. The narrator of the song sees Jones play this part (that of a cartoon-like antebellum southern colonel) but also sees Jones play a traitorous Civil War commanding officer in The Big Valley – an officer who was part of the plot to assassinate Lincoln. Same actor, same person. We make the connection like this:

I was a Reb in the guise of a Union Colonel
with all those fools
I butchered a town just to prove to them that I was a loyal
Lincoln tool
Then in order to escape my shame
I wandered into outer space
and here I am

The last section is in the voice of Colonel Smith, describing his ridiculous attempt to blow Dr. Smith sky-high with an exploding cream pie, cursing himself as “the Smith that gave all of the Smiths a bad name,” and ending on a rationalization of his conspiracy to kill Lincoln with a nod to MacBeth:

Safe until great Birnam Wood scaled high Dunsinane
He was the Lincoln who gave every king their bad name

Our promise to you

I know I promised new content in the Fall, so now my credibility is in shambles. That said, on behalf of Big Green, I solemnly promise that we will not use tortured metaphors or obscure television characters in any of the songs on our new album. Take that to the bank.

Political Rants

Bad side of Buchanan.

The historic second impeachment of Donald Trump got under way this week. I have to say that it was more engaging than the first impeachment in some respects. The House impeachment managers seem a bit sharper to me, though they are working what seems like an open and shut case. At some level this is all performative, as it seems unlikely that a sufficient number of Senators whose constituencies are made up of rabid Trump supporters will vote to convict the man. Still, anything that reminds people of the shit show that led up to this last election and the rabid, racist attack that followed it can’t be bad. Trump himself said something like “never forget this day” to his supporters. I embrace that entirely: we should never let Republicans forget January 6, 2021 for as long as they live. That should be one of our political obsessions moving forward.

If the jury (i.e. the United States Senate) in this proceeding were inclined towards acting in good faith rather than in their own narrow political self-interest, it might be relevant to emphasize the fact that, despite the similarities, an impeachment is not the same as a criminal trial. The standard of guilt is quite different, as are the stakes. I realize that barring someone from high office isn’t a small thing, but it’s certainly not what most people would consider a severe punishment. It’s not like a conviction in the Senate would send Trump’s ass to prison; no, it would simply keep him from holding office again. It’s not taking away your rights, because no one has a right to the presidency – it’s an office that must be earned. In that way, impeachment is kind of like a reverse job interview. I think people have a tendency to forget that, sometimes kind of conveniently.

I don’t know if you’ve ever perused one, but on the web there are a number of rankings of presidents from best to worst that get updated every year or so, as per historians’ assessment of the various chief executives and their impact, good and bad. I believe all of these polls put James Buchanan at the very bottom, though he is sometimes challenged in this honorific by Andrew Johnson, who most often appears second to last in the rankings. (Of course, these two putrid presidents flank Abraham Lincoln on either side, Lincoln being ranked number one almost universally.) Now that Trump is an ex-president, he will be included in these surveys. If I were a gambling man (which I’m not), I would put my money on him landing on the bad side of Buchanan. Trump likes to call himself “The 45th President of the United States” as a way of avoiding being referred to as a former president and, therefore, admitting failure, defeat, etc. Actually, the nomenclature might fit the next time these historians render their judgment. My guess is that he will, indeed, be named the forty-fifth president in the line up from best to worst.

We shall see what judgment the Senate hands down on Trump, but I think history’s judgment has already landed and it’s not pretty.

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.
Usual Rubbish

Deal, no deal.

Here’s my counter offer. You can use the counter any time you want, even when we’re having brunch in the kitchen on alternate Sundays, as per our agreement, volume 3, chapter 5, subsection 4, paragraph 2 (see also sources in footnote 845). Now what do you say?

Yeah, here we are, making a deal with the devil, folks. Yes, I’m talking about those crazy squatters who invaded and occupied the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our makeshift home, sometime during the summer, consigning us and our various hangers-on to the potting shed in the courtyard. We’re attempting to reach some understanding with them, but it’s a bit more complicated than I had imagined. Apparently one of these yahoos is a contract lawyer. Doesn’t look it.

Anyway, our draft agreement for the return of Big Green to the Cheney Hammer Mill is … well, it’s thick as your ass, maybe thicker. Lots of wherefores and what-have-you’s, which is fine, because what have we right now but big fat nothing? There are few disputes that cannot be settled through studied diplomacy, and while none of us are trained negotiators, our friend Anti Lincoln did once play one on T.V.  … or was that Lincoln Lincoln? Not sure I remember – they look almost exactly alike. It’s uncanny! (Speaking of uncanny, when’s lunch?) So … Anti Lincoln has taken up our part in these talks, and we couldn’t be better represented. (Mainly because we have no money. Don’t tell Lincoln.)

You guys can pick the curtains.

Thing is, I don’t know how good a lawyer anti-Lincoln ever was. I mean, the real Lincoln had a sharp legal mind. That makes me suspect that anti-Lincoln is a dullard. Or maybe their opposition to one another is played out along some vector other than human intelligence. I’m thinking about suggesting that anti-Lincoln just make a speech in the meeting room, just to turn things upside-down for a few moments while we rummage through the mill and take anything of value. We could then use the proceeds of our ill-gotten gains to hire a decent lawyer, for cryin’ out loud.

In the meantime, we’re being committed to some punishing legal sanctions. It’s all in the agreement. Like page 17 – Mondays and Thursdays are pants optional days. I say “optional,” but the truth is .. they really don’t want to see any pants.  They just want to laugh at our expense. (And again, mea culpa – I didn’t realize I was spending so much.)

Well, let’s hope we can ink this thing soon. It’s getting cold out here, and the potting shed is, well, being used for pots right now.