Since my friendship with JDawg ended this weekend, it seems especially appropriate that the song that was the definitive tune for our trip down Baja to Cabo San Lucas four years (or so? I lose track) ago just got put up on YouTube.
This is one of the best songs ever recorded, and is one of my tunes. Hat tip to Owen White at the Ubiquitarian for posting it and bringing my attention to that it's now online.
Lyrics:
(Chip:)
Yes we can talk it out,
Tell me what it's all about,
But don't speak in English.
You can just let it flow,
Tell it right from your soul,
But don't say words I understand.
Because I've had enough
Of that kind of stuff,
For a long, long time.
(Carrie:)
You can tell me where to go,
Tell me what I don't know,
But don't speak in English.
You can talk politics,
Get your political fix,
But don't say words that I understand.
Because I've had enough
Of that kind of stuff,
For a long, long time.
You can let the telephone ring,
But don't pass me that thing.
I am not a receiver.
You can play the music you choose,
Western swing or Delta blues
(Where the wasted words are few,
And Old John Prine will do..)
And we'll just talk for a while.
You can let the telephone ring,
But don't pass me that thing.
I am not a receiver.
You can play the music you choose,
Western swing or Delta blues
(Where the wasted words are few,
And Old Van Zandt will do, maybe two..)
And we'll just talk for a while.
And when we can talk it out,
You tell me what it's all about..
Just don't speak in English.
If you get it in your head
That you want to take me to bed,
Just don't say words that I understand..
'Cause I've enough of that kind of stuff
For a long time..
'Cause I've enough of that kind of stuff
For a long, long, long, long time..
---
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Everyone has the Right to be Taken Care of.
This just in, from ZENIT, the Vatican news feed:
Vatican Calls for Rich to Make Universal Health Care Possible
Laments That "Poor People Miss Out"
GENEVA, Switzerland, MAY 24, 2011 (Zenit.org).- The president of the Pontifical Council for Health Care Ministry says rich nations will have to show solidarity with poor countries if the right to health care is to become a reality.
Archbishop Zygmunt Zimowski said this in his address to the World Health Organization's 64th World Health Assembly, which concluded today in Geneva.
The prelate noted the 2010 World Health Report, showing "on the whole, we are still a long way from universal coverage."
"We are stalled in the status quo, where the rich people have higher levels of coverage, while most of the poor people miss out, and those who do have access often incur high, sometimes catastrophic costs in paying for services and medicine," he said.
The prelate stated that to make universal coverage a possibility, nations need to raise funds, "reduce reliance on direct payments for services and improve efficiency and equity, thus removing the financial barriers to access, especially for poor and less advantaged people."
But he said that low-income countries have little chance of making this happen.
"This sad fact highlights the need for a true global solidarity, in which high income countries do not only promise, but effectively meet their commitments on development assistance," he said.
We are all our brother's keeper.
h/t: Caelum & Terra
(I should also note that Caelum & Terra has been knocking ball after ball out of the park lately. I admire Daniel Nichols immensely, and he's been posting many interesting and great things lately - like these words from St. Seraphim of Sarov yesterday for example:
God is fire which warms and inflames the heart and womb. And so, if we feel in our hearts coldness, which is from the devil, for he is cold, then let us pray to the Lord for he came to warm our hearts with perfect love, not only of him but of our neighbor too. And in the face of his warmth the cold of the hater-of-good will flee away.
How's that for some excellent advice? Pray for perfect love. What ever else were we made for but that? )
---
Vatican Calls for Rich to Make Universal Health Care Possible
Laments That "Poor People Miss Out"
GENEVA, Switzerland, MAY 24, 2011 (Zenit.org).- The president of the Pontifical Council for Health Care Ministry says rich nations will have to show solidarity with poor countries if the right to health care is to become a reality.
Archbishop Zygmunt Zimowski said this in his address to the World Health Organization's 64th World Health Assembly, which concluded today in Geneva.
The prelate noted the 2010 World Health Report, showing "on the whole, we are still a long way from universal coverage."
"We are stalled in the status quo, where the rich people have higher levels of coverage, while most of the poor people miss out, and those who do have access often incur high, sometimes catastrophic costs in paying for services and medicine," he said.
The prelate stated that to make universal coverage a possibility, nations need to raise funds, "reduce reliance on direct payments for services and improve efficiency and equity, thus removing the financial barriers to access, especially for poor and less advantaged people."
But he said that low-income countries have little chance of making this happen.
"This sad fact highlights the need for a true global solidarity, in which high income countries do not only promise, but effectively meet their commitments on development assistance," he said.
We are all our brother's keeper.
h/t: Caelum & Terra
(I should also note that Caelum & Terra has been knocking ball after ball out of the park lately. I admire Daniel Nichols immensely, and he's been posting many interesting and great things lately - like these words from St. Seraphim of Sarov yesterday for example:
God is fire which warms and inflames the heart and womb. And so, if we feel in our hearts coldness, which is from the devil, for he is cold, then let us pray to the Lord for he came to warm our hearts with perfect love, not only of him but of our neighbor too. And in the face of his warmth the cold of the hater-of-good will flee away.
How's that for some excellent advice? Pray for perfect love. What ever else were we made for but that? )
---
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
O Hail Star of the Sea, Draw Us All Safely Home to Thee..
So, I am now home (so to speak) in Vermont. Two weeks in Florida, where the May weather this year was actually quite beautiful (as compared to last May, which was so hot as to be miserable), and now have returned to New England decked in her full late spring regalia.
Maple Street, Newport, from my porch. Taken this afternoon, less than an hour ago.
When I left, it was the mud season. There were still residuum of drifts, long thin ridges of granular snow all about. Snow, that is, but without the stark beauty of the mantle, or the joy of skiing. This is the only time that New England does not sing to me, really. She gets mucky and slightly smelly, and is all brown and cold. I still love her, then, but it's my least favorite time with her.
Two weeks later, though.. She blossoms, she blooms. I had had no idea that there were dozens of lilac bushes on my street. Not a clue.
I can't photograph perfume for you, only this:
These are my favorite flowers. Purple, light blue. The finery of the May Queen come lightly, deftly dancing Spring's melody:
Lyrics:
Bring flowers of the fairest,
Bring flowers of the rarest,
From garden and woodland
And hillside and vale.
Our full hearts are swelling!
Our Glad voices telling
The praise of the loveliest
Rose of the vale!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
Our voices ascending,
In harmony blending.
Oh! Thus may our hearts turn
Dear Mother, to thee.
Oh! Thus shall we prove thee
How truly we love thee.
How dark without Mary
Life's journey would be.
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Virgin most tender!
Our homage we render,
Thy love and protection
Sweet Mother, to win.
In danger defend us,
In sorrow befriend us,
And shield our hearts
From contagion and sin!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
Of Mothers the dearest,
Oh, wilt thou be nearest
When life with temptation
Is darkly replete!
Forsake us, O never,
Our hearts be they ever,
As Pure as the lilies
We lay at thy feet!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
---
Maple Street, Newport, from my porch. Taken this afternoon, less than an hour ago.
When I left, it was the mud season. There were still residuum of drifts, long thin ridges of granular snow all about. Snow, that is, but without the stark beauty of the mantle, or the joy of skiing. This is the only time that New England does not sing to me, really. She gets mucky and slightly smelly, and is all brown and cold. I still love her, then, but it's my least favorite time with her.
Two weeks later, though.. She blossoms, she blooms. I had had no idea that there were dozens of lilac bushes on my street. Not a clue.
I can't photograph perfume for you, only this:
These are my favorite flowers. Purple, light blue. The finery of the May Queen come lightly, deftly dancing Spring's melody:
Lyrics:
Bring flowers of the fairest,
Bring flowers of the rarest,
From garden and woodland
And hillside and vale.
Our full hearts are swelling!
Our Glad voices telling
The praise of the loveliest
Rose of the vale!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
Our voices ascending,
In harmony blending.
Oh! Thus may our hearts turn
Dear Mother, to thee.
Oh! Thus shall we prove thee
How truly we love thee.
How dark without Mary
Life's journey would be.
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Virgin most tender!
Our homage we render,
Thy love and protection
Sweet Mother, to win.
In danger defend us,
In sorrow befriend us,
And shield our hearts
From contagion and sin!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
Of Mothers the dearest,
Oh, wilt thou be nearest
When life with temptation
Is darkly replete!
Forsake us, O never,
Our hearts be they ever,
As Pure as the lilies
We lay at thy feet!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today!
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May!
---
An Open Confession
This last weekend I behaved very poorly. In sort of a culmination of pride and acedia, I both mocked some people I disagree with, calling them fools..
And then sneered at people who often quote scripture chapter and verse in their writing.
They usually annoy, even anger me sometimes, you see.
Because you know, I am above such credulous tasteless crudities as quoting scripture, I guess. Too cool for that sort of thing. Way too cool.
[But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,' is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell. (Matthew 5:24) ]
Anyway..
We went out Saturday, and there were shenanigans. I behaved like a fool, and ended up having a very "interesting" night. One that I will not describe in any detail here, and mention it only to say that at some point before dawn on Sunday I realized that not only had I missed the vigil, but that I was probably going to miss mass that weekend altogether.
Which I then did.
With the sabbath dawn, knowing that I would not be at mass, I had an irrational moment of terror where I was sure that I was doomed. The rapture had occurred, and I was a fool who had been left behind.
Not a pleasant sensation, let me tell you. A moment of repentance, you could say.
Later, after my head and heart were cleared, I realized that even if I do not believe that the modern eschatology that anticipates the "rapture" makes any sense, that I should not be making snarky fun of people who do believe it. Indeed, if I were wise at all, it should be my fervent hope that if such an event occurs, that I should be included in it. Apart from that, I should mostly not say anything at all about it, really. There are other things, such as the state of my own soul and conscience that are far more worthy my attention and concern.
I mean, I believe that the second coming will be just as unexpected as the first, and that he will upend our expectations in such a way that everyone will be surprised. He is always doing things we do not understand, after all. The end will be no different. Still, I am now resolved to generally keep my mouth shut on that point.
On the ride home, I spent much of the way thinking about all of this and examining my conscience.
(I'm sort of an aficionado of examenes by the way, and just found one that I really like, here. It's pretty staunch, and I used it today. )
This morning I went to see Father Micheal at the rectory, and interrupted him at breakfast. He left his meal to hear my confession. I am trying to keep my confessions short lately, to simply recite the things my conscience accuses me of, without any explanation or excuse. Just the sins, the number of times I've committed them if that's applicable, and maybe mention of the names of people I have hurt. It should take five minutes or less, even being a jackass like I am. When the priest speaks, I have resolved to keep my mouth mostly shut and suppress the impulse to start a discussion, unless he asks me a question. This I find harder to do, but I am making progress there. It usually takes only ten or fifteen minutes these days to get absolution.
This morning, Father was blunt. I like this. No great discourse on how much God loves me. I know that the Master loves me. That knowledge encourages my presumption and laxity. What I need is to be kicked in the ass honestly, and disciplined.
So, Father Micheal was not impressed by me, and I was glad. Because I am not impressive. He looked very stern, and said "we make it very easy for you to get to mass here, you know (I didn't tell him that I was in North Carolina Sunday, but his point still held) and you have absolutely no excuse not to be at the feast."
I nodded, mute.
"Stop being lazy. Do your duty."
Do my duty. Yes.
I think I will. Tonight, I herewith resolve not to be vulgar anymore. I also resolve not to call anyone any names. I ask you, my reader's forgiveness for having done both of these things too often before now.
I also resolve to seek simplicity, and only write what I think may edify. Remember, I am still a fool, only one who hopes to be wise. Your prayers and criticism to this end would be much appreciated.
Tonight, all of you are in mine. Good night my dear readers. Sleep very well.
---
And then sneered at people who often quote scripture chapter and verse in their writing.
They usually annoy, even anger me sometimes, you see.
Because you know, I am above such credulous tasteless crudities as quoting scripture, I guess. Too cool for that sort of thing. Way too cool.
[But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,' is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell. (Matthew 5:24) ]
Anyway..
We went out Saturday, and there were shenanigans. I behaved like a fool, and ended up having a very "interesting" night. One that I will not describe in any detail here, and mention it only to say that at some point before dawn on Sunday I realized that not only had I missed the vigil, but that I was probably going to miss mass that weekend altogether.
Which I then did.
With the sabbath dawn, knowing that I would not be at mass, I had an irrational moment of terror where I was sure that I was doomed. The rapture had occurred, and I was a fool who had been left behind.
Not a pleasant sensation, let me tell you. A moment of repentance, you could say.
Later, after my head and heart were cleared, I realized that even if I do not believe that the modern eschatology that anticipates the "rapture" makes any sense, that I should not be making snarky fun of people who do believe it. Indeed, if I were wise at all, it should be my fervent hope that if such an event occurs, that I should be included in it. Apart from that, I should mostly not say anything at all about it, really. There are other things, such as the state of my own soul and conscience that are far more worthy my attention and concern.
I mean, I believe that the second coming will be just as unexpected as the first, and that he will upend our expectations in such a way that everyone will be surprised. He is always doing things we do not understand, after all. The end will be no different. Still, I am now resolved to generally keep my mouth shut on that point.
On the ride home, I spent much of the way thinking about all of this and examining my conscience.
(I'm sort of an aficionado of examenes by the way, and just found one that I really like, here. It's pretty staunch, and I used it today. )
This morning I went to see Father Micheal at the rectory, and interrupted him at breakfast. He left his meal to hear my confession. I am trying to keep my confessions short lately, to simply recite the things my conscience accuses me of, without any explanation or excuse. Just the sins, the number of times I've committed them if that's applicable, and maybe mention of the names of people I have hurt. It should take five minutes or less, even being a jackass like I am. When the priest speaks, I have resolved to keep my mouth mostly shut and suppress the impulse to start a discussion, unless he asks me a question. This I find harder to do, but I am making progress there. It usually takes only ten or fifteen minutes these days to get absolution.
This morning, Father was blunt. I like this. No great discourse on how much God loves me. I know that the Master loves me. That knowledge encourages my presumption and laxity. What I need is to be kicked in the ass honestly, and disciplined.
So, Father Micheal was not impressed by me, and I was glad. Because I am not impressive. He looked very stern, and said "we make it very easy for you to get to mass here, you know (I didn't tell him that I was in North Carolina Sunday, but his point still held) and you have absolutely no excuse not to be at the feast."
I nodded, mute.
"Stop being lazy. Do your duty."
Do my duty. Yes.
I think I will. Tonight, I herewith resolve not to be vulgar anymore. I also resolve not to call anyone any names. I ask you, my reader's forgiveness for having done both of these things too often before now.
I also resolve to seek simplicity, and only write what I think may edify. Remember, I am still a fool, only one who hopes to be wise. Your prayers and criticism to this end would be much appreciated.
Tonight, all of you are in mine. Good night my dear readers. Sleep very well.
---
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Adtendite a Falsis Prophetis.. Or Whatever.
I spent the better part of yesterday evening driving, and on the way north listened to NPR, CNBC and CBC. All three of which carried multiple stories about this,
Relating it all with successively varying degrees of "enraptured" snarkiness. They each loved themselves this story bunches, and every successive show covered it. Rachel Maddow shook herself a cocktail on the air, one with Chartreuse and high end gin in it.. Sounded super yummy.
Dude's got the Rapture down to the hour anyway, it seems. Like that arch biblical chronology and genealogy cruncher Bishop Usher, he's done himself some prophetic calculation.
Heads up. The Lord's coming in glory at 6 p.m. today.
Greenwich Mean Time? Eastern Standard? Dunno. Probably West Coast.. He's from California, just like his friend Jack Chick who drew this, a neat graphic summary of what he prophesies will happen this evening (check your local listings) to the saved:
Could be Mountain time.. Maybe he's gone into the Rocky Mountains, dude's likely out there in Colorado Springs in one of those multi- million buck evangelical retreats they have nestled out by NORAD high command there.
This time zone issue actually matters quite a bit to me, since I plan on making my last confession before they all get taken up if I have the time this Saturday afternoon, just to be sure I face the Tribulation in good conscience.. Rough times demand a clean conscience. That's the best a corrupt papist like me can apparently hope for, I guess. If it's California time I'll be able to assist at mass and even I hope get supper in before all the hullabaloo..
Or maybe I'll just get well and snookered and jam with JDawg all afternoon instead. There'll be last chance mass on Sunday evening even in the midst of the Tribulation, I bet.
Yeah. He wants to do this:
A little raw heart salve to caulk the cracks, you know?
Take our minds off all them tiresome pharisaical tools shooting their gobs off. It gives me heartache and makes me wonder if I'm insane and being mocked by my fellow inmates when "bible believing christians (sic)" start yelping this sort of utter exegetical idiocy.
I generally refrain from baldly citing chapter and verse in my normal discourse, because it lacks subtlety and is so gauche and all, but I've been provoked beyond reason.
Just one verse:
No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father (Matthew 24:36).
Now I'm off to lobotomize myself with a spoon. I intend to enjoy myself the Apocalypse. Cheers.
---
Relating it all with successively varying degrees of "enraptured" snarkiness. They each loved themselves this story bunches, and every successive show covered it. Rachel Maddow shook herself a cocktail on the air, one with Chartreuse and high end gin in it.. Sounded super yummy.
Dude's got the Rapture down to the hour anyway, it seems. Like that arch biblical chronology and genealogy cruncher Bishop Usher, he's done himself some prophetic calculation.
Heads up. The Lord's coming in glory at 6 p.m. today.
Greenwich Mean Time? Eastern Standard? Dunno. Probably West Coast.. He's from California, just like his friend Jack Chick who drew this, a neat graphic summary of what he prophesies will happen this evening (check your local listings) to the saved:
Could be Mountain time.. Maybe he's gone into the Rocky Mountains, dude's likely out there in Colorado Springs in one of those multi- million buck evangelical retreats they have nestled out by NORAD high command there.
This time zone issue actually matters quite a bit to me, since I plan on making my last confession before they all get taken up if I have the time this Saturday afternoon, just to be sure I face the Tribulation in good conscience.. Rough times demand a clean conscience. That's the best a corrupt papist like me can apparently hope for, I guess. If it's California time I'll be able to assist at mass and even I hope get supper in before all the hullabaloo..
Or maybe I'll just get well and snookered and jam with JDawg all afternoon instead. There'll be last chance mass on Sunday evening even in the midst of the Tribulation, I bet.
Yeah. He wants to do this:
A little raw heart salve to caulk the cracks, you know?
Take our minds off all them tiresome pharisaical tools shooting their gobs off. It gives me heartache and makes me wonder if I'm insane and being mocked by my fellow inmates when "bible believing christians (sic)" start yelping this sort of utter exegetical idiocy.
I generally refrain from baldly citing chapter and verse in my normal discourse, because it lacks subtlety and is so gauche and all, but I've been provoked beyond reason.
Just one verse:
No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father (Matthew 24:36).
Now I'm off to lobotomize myself with a spoon. I intend to enjoy myself the Apocalypse. Cheers.
---
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Love is Always Having to Say You're Sorry.
Tonight, I give you all the greatest harmonic convergence this side of the Apocalypse:
Sorry,
It's all that you can't say.
Years gone by and still,
Words don't come easily..
Like sorry, like sorry.
Perdonami,
È uma parola che
Tu non dice mai
E non ti è facile dirme..
Perdonami,
Perdonami.
But you can say it baby,
Baby can I hold you tonight..
Maybe if I told you the right words,
At the right time, you'd be mine.
Io t'amo,
È una parola che
tu non dice mai..
Words don't come easily,
Like I love you, I love you..
Ci sono parole
Che tu non sai dire, o non vuoi..
Quando a volte non c'è bisogno di più,
Di uno scusami, se mi vuoi..
Baby, can I hold you tonight..
Che tu non sai dire, o non vuoi..
Maybe if I told you the right words,
At the right time you'd be mine..
Se mi vuoi..
You'd be mine..
Se mi vuoi..
You'd be mine..
Se mi vuoi..
You'd be mine..
+++
Sorry,
It's all that you can't say.
Years gone by and still,
Words don't come easily..
Like sorry, like sorry.
Perdonami,
È uma parola che
Tu non dice mai
E non ti è facile dirme..
Perdonami,
Perdonami.
But you can say it baby,
Baby can I hold you tonight..
Maybe if I told you the right words,
At the right time, you'd be mine.
Io t'amo,
È una parola che
tu non dice mai..
Words don't come easily,
Like I love you, I love you..
Ci sono parole
Che tu non sai dire, o non vuoi..
Quando a volte non c'è bisogno di più,
Di uno scusami, se mi vuoi..
Baby, can I hold you tonight..
Che tu non sai dire, o non vuoi..
Maybe if I told you the right words,
At the right time you'd be mine..
Se mi vuoi..
You'd be mine..
Se mi vuoi..
You'd be mine..
Se mi vuoi..
You'd be mine..
+++
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The Angry American: Hit 'em Up Style
Justice will be served, n' the battle will rage, this big dog will fight when you rattle her cage..
y'all witness n' testify, 'dis here's de' word:
While he was scheming,
I was beamin' in his Beamer just beamin.'
Can't believe that I caught my man cheatin,'
So I found another way to make him pay for it all.
So I went to Neiman-Marcus on a shoppin' spree-ah,
And on the way I grabbed Soleil and Mia,
And as the cash box rang I threw everything away.
Hey Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Get your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up.
There goes the dreams we used to say,
There goes the times we went away,
There goes the love I had but you cheated on me,
And that's worth that now..
There goes the house we made a home,
There goes you'll never leave me alone,
There goes all the lies you told,
This is what you owe..
While he was braggin,'
I was coming down the hill and just draggin,'
All his pictures and his clothes in the bag an'
Sold everything else till there was just nuthin' left..
And I paid all the bills about a month too late.
It's a shame we have to play these games.
The love we had just fades away, fades away..
Hey Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Put your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up..
Say Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Put your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up..
Hey Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Put your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up!
---
y'all witness n' testify, 'dis here's de' word:
While he was scheming,
I was beamin' in his Beamer just beamin.'
Can't believe that I caught my man cheatin,'
So I found another way to make him pay for it all.
So I went to Neiman-Marcus on a shoppin' spree-ah,
And on the way I grabbed Soleil and Mia,
And as the cash box rang I threw everything away.
Hey Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Get your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up.
There goes the dreams we used to say,
There goes the times we went away,
There goes the love I had but you cheated on me,
And that's worth that now..
There goes the house we made a home,
There goes you'll never leave me alone,
There goes all the lies you told,
This is what you owe..
While he was braggin,'
I was coming down the hill and just draggin,'
All his pictures and his clothes in the bag an'
Sold everything else till there was just nuthin' left..
And I paid all the bills about a month too late.
It's a shame we have to play these games.
The love we had just fades away, fades away..
Hey Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Put your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up..
Say Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Put your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up..
Hey Ladies, when your man wanna get buck-wild,
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style.
Put your hands on his cash,
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times.
Oh, when you go then everything goes,
From the crib to the ride and the clothes.
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit 'em up!
---
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Film Review: Bridesmaids
Enjoyed it. B-. 3.5/5 Stars.
I was just re-reading my last review, of Jane Eyre, and I it struck me that Mia Wasikowska is probably in fact very beautiful in the classical sense.. You could cast her in marble and stick her in the Louvre surrounded by dancing fauns on pan pipes and cherubs scrolling ribbons, and she'd fit right in, wouldn't she?
Anyway, last night I went to see Bridesmaids, which is being billed as a Judd Aptow type comedy starring women. It's got 91% on the Tomato Meter, which I have come to more or less trust. If the meter is above 80, the movie will probably at least entertain, and you won't regret seeing it. I watch a lot of movies, and so far only one movie above 80%, Scott Pilgrim vs the World (81% on the Meter) has registered a vigorous dissent from me. I hated that movie, and almost walked out of it, and wish in hindsight that I had.
I don't walk out of many movies, because I do my due diligence before hand, using sites like Rotten Tomatoes, and so usually know what I am getting into. Interestingly, the last film I did walk out of McGruber, (47% on the Meter) also starred the star of this film, Kristen Wiig. That film was brutal, vulgarity atop vulgarity, without any intelligence. I don't mind vulgarisms - scratch that, I enjoy vulgarisms if they strike me as witty, and do not mind them if they are used occasionally and for poetic effect, but incessant vulgarity without any wit, honesty or purpose assaults even my jaded sensibilities. That movie struck me a both stupid and obscene. I left after 20 minutes or so.
Sometimes I take a chance on films that are poorly reviewed because the movie has something that I think worth risking two hours and 10$ on. I'll see There Be Dragons (11% on the Meter) in the theater if I can for example, because the movie is about the Spanish Civil War and St. Jose Maria the founder of Opus Dei.. That is basically the trifecta for me: Spanish Civil War, Opus Dei, and pretty Spanish girls. It is also shares the title of my old blog, incidentally.. All of which is to say that I couldn't miss it if I tried, poor reviews be damned.
As for this film, I went to see it solely because the Tomato Meter is at 90% and I like Aptow'esque humor. As I say, it also stars Wiig, whom I like. Wiig is of course a cast member on SNL, and has been in a couple other films lately like Paul and Whip It that I enjoyed.
Anyway, this film was exactly what I expected.
It takes all the gender stereotypes, and runs with them.
It's got a lot in common with Jane Eyre, in other words. Only now, in a context where birth control and modern medicine (prophylactics, treatments for venereal disease, abortion, etc.) has stripped the sex act of its strum drang and consequences, we have a farce as opposed to a melodrama.
Which is to say we have a douche bag übermensch lawyer (natürlich driving a German sportscar and living in a typically disgusting modernist palace) who is going all friends with benefits with Kristin Wiig's character, only it's pretty clear that the Master of the Universe isn't really Wiig's character's "friend" at all. He expects her to behave like a porn star and prostitute, and be his ever obliging "f**k buddy" (as he calls her) who only comes over to get it on and sate his sexual needs, and then immediately leave.
I at least give Edward Rochester his props for more or less respecting Jane Eyre's person, and not taking advantage of her desperation like the douche bag lawyer does with Wiig in this film. Edward is not a total cad, in other words, and clearly really does love Jane despite his socially inappropriate and dishonest treatment of her.
This is what we've come to, see. Even when Wiig's character meets an honest, kind cop who clearly does like her for herself, she still hops right in bed with him, and then second guesses his motives when he continues to be kind to her. She immediately goes psycho on him, and pushes him away.
Typische, is what I'm saying. Sure to resonate with audiences everywhere, throughout our free world.
I'll just say you can take pot shots at Catholic sexual ethics all you want. Their one shining benefit in worldly terms is that when embraced they keep you from degrading and making an ass out of yourself like this.
Anyway, the film culminates (after many hijinks, much of which either had me hiding my eyes from the screen or laughing out loud.. There were one or two belly laughs in this film, which is why I recommend seeing it) in a marrige. Miraculously enough, after everything that happens, the marriage still comes off.
It is a completely garish, self- indulgent, disgusting and over the top affair, in which all the gross princess bride excesses are displayed.
The vows are exchanged on blocks in the middle of a reflecting pool, and as they both say "I do" a huge neon heart with "They did!" in it illuminates in the background, and fireworks go off.
Then Wilson & Phillips (the actual band) come out and serenade everyone with this:
No kidding. It was so inspiring, man. Cathartic, made me hope for tomorrow again.
Or whatever.
Tempus fugit, memento mori, is all I have to say.
In Austen all the marriages are simple affairs. Everyone shows up within a few months of the engagement in their church clothes, say the vows in front of the church and community - the old school ones, note - then they have a good dinner, and the couple rides off to have a honeymoon.. That's it. No decadent indecent display, no gush of treacly sentimentality, certainly no garters exposed..
The old vows in the Church of England go like this:
Groom: I,____, take thee,_____, to my lawful wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.
Bride: I,_____, take thee,_____, to my lawful wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.
Notice how the wife vows to obey, but the husband does not? Bracing stuff, isn't it?
Obedience being such the turn-on and all.
Anyway, I enjoyed this movie. It amused me, but it was pretty much a testament to how far gone we are culturally.
Most everyone says they want the romantic dream, but all too few see that it takes crucifixion of one's own will and desire to achieve it.
So it was foretold. So has come to pass.
---
I was just re-reading my last review, of Jane Eyre, and I it struck me that Mia Wasikowska is probably in fact very beautiful in the classical sense.. You could cast her in marble and stick her in the Louvre surrounded by dancing fauns on pan pipes and cherubs scrolling ribbons, and she'd fit right in, wouldn't she?
Anyway, last night I went to see Bridesmaids, which is being billed as a Judd Aptow type comedy starring women. It's got 91% on the Tomato Meter, which I have come to more or less trust. If the meter is above 80, the movie will probably at least entertain, and you won't regret seeing it. I watch a lot of movies, and so far only one movie above 80%, Scott Pilgrim vs the World (81% on the Meter) has registered a vigorous dissent from me. I hated that movie, and almost walked out of it, and wish in hindsight that I had.
I don't walk out of many movies, because I do my due diligence before hand, using sites like Rotten Tomatoes, and so usually know what I am getting into. Interestingly, the last film I did walk out of McGruber, (47% on the Meter) also starred the star of this film, Kristen Wiig. That film was brutal, vulgarity atop vulgarity, without any intelligence. I don't mind vulgarisms - scratch that, I enjoy vulgarisms if they strike me as witty, and do not mind them if they are used occasionally and for poetic effect, but incessant vulgarity without any wit, honesty or purpose assaults even my jaded sensibilities. That movie struck me a both stupid and obscene. I left after 20 minutes or so.
Sometimes I take a chance on films that are poorly reviewed because the movie has something that I think worth risking two hours and 10$ on. I'll see There Be Dragons (11% on the Meter) in the theater if I can for example, because the movie is about the Spanish Civil War and St. Jose Maria the founder of Opus Dei.. That is basically the trifecta for me: Spanish Civil War, Opus Dei, and pretty Spanish girls. It is also shares the title of my old blog, incidentally.. All of which is to say that I couldn't miss it if I tried, poor reviews be damned.
As for this film, I went to see it solely because the Tomato Meter is at 90% and I like Aptow'esque humor. As I say, it also stars Wiig, whom I like. Wiig is of course a cast member on SNL, and has been in a couple other films lately like Paul and Whip It that I enjoyed.
Anyway, this film was exactly what I expected.
It takes all the gender stereotypes, and runs with them.
It's got a lot in common with Jane Eyre, in other words. Only now, in a context where birth control and modern medicine (prophylactics, treatments for venereal disease, abortion, etc.) has stripped the sex act of its strum drang and consequences, we have a farce as opposed to a melodrama.
Which is to say we have a douche bag übermensch lawyer (natürlich driving a German sportscar and living in a typically disgusting modernist palace) who is going all friends with benefits with Kristin Wiig's character, only it's pretty clear that the Master of the Universe isn't really Wiig's character's "friend" at all. He expects her to behave like a porn star and prostitute, and be his ever obliging "f**k buddy" (as he calls her) who only comes over to get it on and sate his sexual needs, and then immediately leave.
I at least give Edward Rochester his props for more or less respecting Jane Eyre's person, and not taking advantage of her desperation like the douche bag lawyer does with Wiig in this film. Edward is not a total cad, in other words, and clearly really does love Jane despite his socially inappropriate and dishonest treatment of her.
This is what we've come to, see. Even when Wiig's character meets an honest, kind cop who clearly does like her for herself, she still hops right in bed with him, and then second guesses his motives when he continues to be kind to her. She immediately goes psycho on him, and pushes him away.
Typische, is what I'm saying. Sure to resonate with audiences everywhere, throughout our free world.
I'll just say you can take pot shots at Catholic sexual ethics all you want. Their one shining benefit in worldly terms is that when embraced they keep you from degrading and making an ass out of yourself like this.
Anyway, the film culminates (after many hijinks, much of which either had me hiding my eyes from the screen or laughing out loud.. There were one or two belly laughs in this film, which is why I recommend seeing it) in a marrige. Miraculously enough, after everything that happens, the marriage still comes off.
It is a completely garish, self- indulgent, disgusting and over the top affair, in which all the gross princess bride excesses are displayed.
The vows are exchanged on blocks in the middle of a reflecting pool, and as they both say "I do" a huge neon heart with "They did!" in it illuminates in the background, and fireworks go off.
Then Wilson & Phillips (the actual band) come out and serenade everyone with this:
No kidding. It was so inspiring, man. Cathartic, made me hope for tomorrow again.
Or whatever.
Tempus fugit, memento mori, is all I have to say.
In Austen all the marriages are simple affairs. Everyone shows up within a few months of the engagement in their church clothes, say the vows in front of the church and community - the old school ones, note - then they have a good dinner, and the couple rides off to have a honeymoon.. That's it. No decadent indecent display, no gush of treacly sentimentality, certainly no garters exposed..
The old vows in the Church of England go like this:
Groom: I,____, take thee,_____, to my lawful wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.
Bride: I,_____, take thee,_____, to my lawful wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.
Notice how the wife vows to obey, but the husband does not? Bracing stuff, isn't it?
Obedience being such the turn-on and all.
Anyway, I enjoyed this movie. It amused me, but it was pretty much a testament to how far gone we are culturally.
Most everyone says they want the romantic dream, but all too few see that it takes crucifixion of one's own will and desire to achieve it.
So it was foretold. So has come to pass.
---
Friday, May 13, 2011
This is My Lucky Day. [revised]
The lunatic ... doesn't concern himself at all with logic; he works by short circuits. For him, everything proves everything else. The lunatic is all idée fixe, and whatever he comes across confirms his lunacy. You can tell him by the liberties he takes with common sense, by his flashes of inspiration, and by the fact that sooner or later he brings up the Templars.
— Umberto Eco, Foucault's Pendulum **
On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV the Fair had all the Knights Templar headquartered in France simultaneously arrested, interrogated and in many cases executed.
Why did he do this?
The rumor is that they were fabulously rich due to their having become international bankers funding the Crusades, and Philip wanted their lucre.. They were also rumored to have become rank heretics through their contacts with the Mussulman and other exotic and even more esoteric creeds in the East. They furthermore were reputed and charged with practicing unnatural vices..
The further rumor is that the Templars introduced Masonry and other forms of practical gnosticism like Catharism to the West..
I for one do not care.*** I am going to write about Philip the Fair at least once more on this blog in relation to his conflict with Boniface VIII and the bull Unam Sanctam.
I only mention the Templars here for one reason: the fact that Friday the 13th is an unlucky day is often associated with their suppression on this date. I used to buy into it a little, myself..
Until I began thinking about it.. Sodomitical bankers practicing black arts..
Fire up the pyre, I say. Line the usurers, counterfeiters and moneychangers up. I'll stoke while they form their queue..
For Christ plus the twelve made for 13, didn't they?
Yeah. I think they did. Judas was subtracted, Christ ascended, then Paul and Matthias were later added. Still 13 in all.
Tolkien's caving aside (Bilbo was the lucky 14th? Why did the dwarves take 13 to be unlucky?) I now declare ..
13 to be my very most lucky number. And this day shall now until forevermore be a holiday to me.
That's right! Burn, baby burn! Screw the Templars!
Or, uh, not.
Seinfeld holds an auto, auto-da-fé.. Burns himself eating soup, solipsistically,
Or something..
[**I found that quote on Wikipedia's article on the Templars while verifying the content of this post. It made me laugh. This is the only time you will hear of the Templars on this here blog.. Still. They did come up..]
[*** Nous nous en foutons. Fecondez-vous. ]
---
— Umberto Eco, Foucault's Pendulum **
On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV the Fair had all the Knights Templar headquartered in France simultaneously arrested, interrogated and in many cases executed.
Why did he do this?
The rumor is that they were fabulously rich due to their having become international bankers funding the Crusades, and Philip wanted their lucre.. They were also rumored to have become rank heretics through their contacts with the Mussulman and other exotic and even more esoteric creeds in the East. They furthermore were reputed and charged with practicing unnatural vices..
The further rumor is that the Templars introduced Masonry and other forms of practical gnosticism like Catharism to the West..
I for one do not care.*** I am going to write about Philip the Fair at least once more on this blog in relation to his conflict with Boniface VIII and the bull Unam Sanctam.
I only mention the Templars here for one reason: the fact that Friday the 13th is an unlucky day is often associated with their suppression on this date. I used to buy into it a little, myself..
Until I began thinking about it.. Sodomitical bankers practicing black arts..
Fire up the pyre, I say. Line the usurers, counterfeiters and moneychangers up. I'll stoke while they form their queue..
For Christ plus the twelve made for 13, didn't they?
Yeah. I think they did. Judas was subtracted, Christ ascended, then Paul and Matthias were later added. Still 13 in all.
Tolkien's caving aside (Bilbo was the lucky 14th? Why did the dwarves take 13 to be unlucky?) I now declare ..
13 to be my very most lucky number. And this day shall now until forevermore be a holiday to me.
That's right! Burn, baby burn! Screw the Templars!
Or, uh, not.
Seinfeld holds an auto, auto-da-fé.. Burns himself eating soup, solipsistically,
Or something..
[**I found that quote on Wikipedia's article on the Templars while verifying the content of this post. It made me laugh. This is the only time you will hear of the Templars on this here blog.. Still. They did come up..]
[*** Nous nous en foutons. Fecondez-vous. ]
---
Film Review: Jane Eyre
Really Liked It. Thumbs up. A- . 4.5/5 Stars.
Yesterday evening my mother and I saw this film at the Old Mill Playhouse in the Villages.
I'd noticed that it was being well reviewed (82% on the vaunted Tomato Meter) and so decided I needed to give it a try..
Because I am just such a complete sucker for period dramas based on classics, you know. Especially romances.. I'm a sensitive pseudo-sophisticate quasi-literate new age deeply in touch with his X chromosome type of guy, is what I'm saying.
From every version ever made of Les Liaisons Dangereuses to anything by Merchant Ivory – I snort it all like coke. E.M. Forrester to Jane Austen, The Four Feathers and Brideshead Revisited to The Scarlet Pimpernel..
It's all great to me. A well made film with women in bonnets and corsets is simply not to be missed.
But the odd thing is I can't remember ever seeing Jane Eyre before.. This is especially odd, because the novel has been made into a movie or TV mini-series over 20 times this last century. It is in other words a staple BBC, Merchant Ivory, A&E type classic, that along with the likes of Jane Austen, just keeps being recycled by filmmakers.
So, oddly enough, despite this burning passion of mine for period pieces, I don't think I've ever seen a single one of them.. I just googled the title, and there's apparently even been a well received version made in 1996 by Zefferelli, starring Charlotte Gainesbourg – a favorite French actress of mine, acting in this film in English – and William Hurt.. Her French accent is apparently close enough, if you're an Italian director working for an American audience..
Anyhow, I've read the novel once, long ago in high school. I remember liking it quite a lot, but that it was rather long. I'd much preferred it to Wuthering Heights which I also read once back then, but did not like it as much as say Pride & Predjudice.. (But then is there any novel that I like as much as Pride & Predjudice, other than maybe Emma? Err, no.)
I've never since re-read it, because the size of the book and the residual sensation of the story's heaviness have kept putting me off. I've picked it up a few times, hefted it, thumbed a few pages, and always then put it down to run back to reading Aunt Jane yet again, for (now literally) the 20th or 30th something time.
So, I walked into the theater tonight utterly free & clear, not remembering any details of the story beyond the fact that Jane Eyre was a governess who falls in love with her employer.. Actually, I also remembered the very end of the tale, which I won't divulge here.
Other than that though, it was a revelation, and a terrific one. Despite not having read the book in 20 years, I think I can still say with some confidence that this is one of the best adaptations of a novel I've ever seen.
Three things were especially superb:
First, and maybe most importantly, the casting is spot on.
Mia Wasikowska does her now customarily excellent (see the very good The Kids Are Alright and mostly mediocre apart from her fine performance Alice in Wonderland) work as Jane Eyre.
Jane is supposed to be plain looking (as is the lead male character, Edward Rochester) but rent with integrity and passion that causes many people she encounters to respond viscerally in either hate or love for her. Most particularly, the two main male characters Edward and St. John Rivers, both fall hard for her in their own very different ways.
So the casting here is key – Jane has to be plain but compelling. Mia Wasikowska is perfect, because she is exactly that. Her face is usually impassive, with her eyes emoting everything. She's not made up at all here, and her features – while regular and pretty – are not classically beautiful. She's like a tuning fork in her scenes, in that she vibrates emotion that emanates and fills the screen and audience. She's awesome, in other words, and while the rest of the cast (which includes Judi Densch) is also excellent and apt to their parts, she pretty much carries the film herself.
Second, while the visual pallet of the movie is mostly very dark, it is exactly apposite to the mood of the story. The landscape depicted (the moors of northern England) is exquisite, and seems almost sentient.
Third, while (as I've already said) I haven't read the book in ages, my mother (who has read it many times) says that the abridgment necessary to make such a long novel with all its interwoven subplots and dozens of characters into a two hour movie was both effective and very faithful to the original story.
It's a major pet peeve of mine when filmmakers take significant liberties with a story I love. If they do it egregiously enough it ruins the movie for me. This abridgment focuses on the central love story (as it had to) and had me completely fascinated from nearly the beginning.
A few more incidental observations:
The film has a magical realist vibe to it. I won't give much detail as to how this works, but suffice to say that it in some places it felt a bit like a supernatural suspense or even horror movie, in that the tone and mood are gothic and baroquely romantic, occasionally verging on the excessive. It's not clear what's happening in a few places, if you don't already know the story (and again, I didn't) the motives of the characters can occasionally seem opaque and mildly fantastic. Once everything becomes clear, it all makes sense though. If Bronte herself had been advising the filmmakers, I imagine she would have been very pleased with result.
So I really appreciated the how the film dealt with spirituality. Most of the characters are fervent 19th century low church English Calvinists, cousins to Scotch Presbyterians, and this is portrayed in what I felt is a rich and fair manner. There are a few cruel and judgmental bigots of the type that sometimes give Christianity a bad name, and then many others who I thought are depicted living their their faith in a normal, or sympathetic even admirable way. There is also quite a bit of folk mysticism in the film, where it's clear that the characters see the world in what many people today would call magical terms. They believe there are spirits and unseen forces about, and they are always interacting with and effecting what is seen.. I liked this a lot, because I've encountered this type of culture in places myself, and it charms and seduces me. This spirituality helps give the film its lyrical and romantic air.
I also was struck how the landscape and physical context – which includes technology – effects culture, spirituality and religious worldview- the moors are stark and forbidding, which clearly impacts how the people there see the world. Everywhere I go lately, I notice this same effect: the material imbues the culture.
I've been thinking how things that we today take for granted, such as mass literacy (a result of modern publishing due the printing press and now internet, as well as universal schooling that accompanied industrialization just over 100 years ago) or mass produced clothes (made by ginned cotton or other industrially made cloth, and machine sewn to universal patterns – and which now everyone, even the comparatively poor can usually afford many sets of, as well as now have the ability to launder them well and often) – deeply effected, and in effect created the class hierarchies that used to exist.
To have good quality, clean clothes was much more expensive, and so rarer then. Having them was an automatic class marker. So too was literacy (a high quality education is what clearly marks Jane Eyre off from the common class in this story) more unusual – because books and paper and writing instruments were all rarer and more expensive, then..
This story, like Jane Austen's work, is obsessed with social status and the role of women in 19th Century English society. The heroine is an intrepid and sympathetic girl, who seeks her happiness and freedom through her relationships. Like Austen's heroines, she is a gentlewoman, in that she is educated and from an upper middle class, minor gentry background, but because of the death of her parents is thrown upon the mercies of others and eventually has to become a governess to support herself.
She's much like Jane Fairfax in Austen's Emma, in other words. Accomplished, very intelligent, and of a good family background, but forced by her circumstances to work teaching children. This how she ends up meeting Edward Rochester. He becomes her employer, but because she is by birth also a gentlewoman, he can socialize with her in a way that he could not with a lower servant.
This gives the story much deeper pathos than anything by Austen. All of Jane Austen's main female characters are of more secure economic circumstances. Even the Bennet sisters in Pride & Prejudice would have had enough of an income to live lives of genteel poverty without the need to work themselves, had they all failed to find husbands. Furthermore, only one of the Bennet sisters needed to land a rich husband for the rest of them to be all financially well off.
Jane Eyre would be destitute without her work. Unlike all of Austen's central female characters, she is also a servant. This gives her story a tragic dimension and a heightened desperation, her character being much more in need of both money and emotional outlet, as well as other sorts of consummation and freedom.
The fact that there was in normal circumstances no divorce in 1840's England, and that marriage was much more serious affair then, is also important here.
It really fascinates and amuses me that modern women swoon so much for these stories, in which the most obvious (perhaps only clear) means that the women in them can truly fulfill themselves is by binding themselves to men of property and power. Jane Eyre is particularly egregious in this, because as I say, Jane becomes utterly abject before her employer Edward Rochester, withholding only her integrity from him, which is exactly what makes him utterly fall for her.
He's rude and brusque, deliberately promenading another (rich and more beautiful) woman before her, and not hiding that he had apparently had a child by an affair (which he could not have hidden, since the child was her charge as governess). He very clearly is attracted to her almost immediately, and does not hide this despite her being both his employee as well as her being about 20 years younger than he is. He comes and goes as he pleases, treats her rudely, and then occasionally shows her any kindness and attention.
But he is a furnace of desire. That he so clearly wants Jane works like catnip to her inner kitten.
She very naturally falls deeply and insanely in love with him, and.. Well, I won't give any major spoilers here. Watch the film, you'll see. The point is that for the better part of the story she does very little other than be coy and insist that he respect her. It's pretty clear to him though that despite her attempt at maintaining sang froid that her sang is actually quite chaud. Until the very nearly the end of the film, he senses this and pursues her, and so is the protagonist in their relationship, while until the very end she more or less just reacts to him.
Demure, principled, but also passionately charged: the perfect feminine vibe.
I mean, to be utterly clear, I dug it all too. I only mention it as it just doesn't really jibe with the feminist narrative of women wanting to behave actively in romantic situations like men.
Here's my take on it all: I think these stories show how male and female desire are symbiotic to the point that they are compatible theses to one another: women are attracted by desire, by being desired. Female desire is incited by being the object of desire, but in a tantalizing and authoritative way. Male desire exhibited with confidence, elan and self-possession – that's the thing.
Male desire is simpler on the face of it, but in the end still fickle. I'll simply say (again, without giving much away as spoiler) that there are three other romantic relationships than his one with Jane that Edward Rochester has in the film – one with an unseen but reputedly beautiful yet capricious French actress who had been mother to Jane's charge, and another with a beautiful rich girl who is invited to the manor, who exhibits a disdain for Jane. The third relationship is even more over the top than the others (this is a Victorian Gothic romance, after all..) It is very clear to me why he prefers the demure and passionate yet scrupulously principled, as well as kind and generous (which is to say extremely feminine and nurturing) Jane to them all.
I'll also re-emphasize in closing that the restraints that 19th century Victorian society placed on married people very clearly made love and eros a very serious thing. Theirs was the diametric opposite of our modern pick-up and divorce ridden culture. I personally admire them theirs, and despise ours. Give me their mores, give me their moral, emotional and spiritual seriousness. This freedom we have is trite and boring.
Anyhow, the upshot is that this is a truly excellent movie, one that I thoroughly enjoyed and highly recommend.
---
Yesterday evening my mother and I saw this film at the Old Mill Playhouse in the Villages.
I'd noticed that it was being well reviewed (82% on the vaunted Tomato Meter) and so decided I needed to give it a try..
Because I am just such a complete sucker for period dramas based on classics, you know. Especially romances.. I'm a sensitive pseudo-sophisticate quasi-literate new age deeply in touch with his X chromosome type of guy, is what I'm saying.
From every version ever made of Les Liaisons Dangereuses to anything by Merchant Ivory – I snort it all like coke. E.M. Forrester to Jane Austen, The Four Feathers and Brideshead Revisited to The Scarlet Pimpernel..
It's all great to me. A well made film with women in bonnets and corsets is simply not to be missed.
But the odd thing is I can't remember ever seeing Jane Eyre before.. This is especially odd, because the novel has been made into a movie or TV mini-series over 20 times this last century. It is in other words a staple BBC, Merchant Ivory, A&E type classic, that along with the likes of Jane Austen, just keeps being recycled by filmmakers.
So, oddly enough, despite this burning passion of mine for period pieces, I don't think I've ever seen a single one of them.. I just googled the title, and there's apparently even been a well received version made in 1996 by Zefferelli, starring Charlotte Gainesbourg – a favorite French actress of mine, acting in this film in English – and William Hurt.. Her French accent is apparently close enough, if you're an Italian director working for an American audience..
Anyhow, I've read the novel once, long ago in high school. I remember liking it quite a lot, but that it was rather long. I'd much preferred it to Wuthering Heights which I also read once back then, but did not like it as much as say Pride & Predjudice.. (But then is there any novel that I like as much as Pride & Predjudice, other than maybe Emma? Err, no.)
I've never since re-read it, because the size of the book and the residual sensation of the story's heaviness have kept putting me off. I've picked it up a few times, hefted it, thumbed a few pages, and always then put it down to run back to reading Aunt Jane yet again, for (now literally) the 20th or 30th something time.
So, I walked into the theater tonight utterly free & clear, not remembering any details of the story beyond the fact that Jane Eyre was a governess who falls in love with her employer.. Actually, I also remembered the very end of the tale, which I won't divulge here.
Other than that though, it was a revelation, and a terrific one. Despite not having read the book in 20 years, I think I can still say with some confidence that this is one of the best adaptations of a novel I've ever seen.
Three things were especially superb:
First, and maybe most importantly, the casting is spot on.
Mia Wasikowska does her now customarily excellent (see the very good The Kids Are Alright and mostly mediocre apart from her fine performance Alice in Wonderland) work as Jane Eyre.
Jane is supposed to be plain looking (as is the lead male character, Edward Rochester) but rent with integrity and passion that causes many people she encounters to respond viscerally in either hate or love for her. Most particularly, the two main male characters Edward and St. John Rivers, both fall hard for her in their own very different ways.
So the casting here is key – Jane has to be plain but compelling. Mia Wasikowska is perfect, because she is exactly that. Her face is usually impassive, with her eyes emoting everything. She's not made up at all here, and her features – while regular and pretty – are not classically beautiful. She's like a tuning fork in her scenes, in that she vibrates emotion that emanates and fills the screen and audience. She's awesome, in other words, and while the rest of the cast (which includes Judi Densch) is also excellent and apt to their parts, she pretty much carries the film herself.
Second, while the visual pallet of the movie is mostly very dark, it is exactly apposite to the mood of the story. The landscape depicted (the moors of northern England) is exquisite, and seems almost sentient.
Third, while (as I've already said) I haven't read the book in ages, my mother (who has read it many times) says that the abridgment necessary to make such a long novel with all its interwoven subplots and dozens of characters into a two hour movie was both effective and very faithful to the original story.
It's a major pet peeve of mine when filmmakers take significant liberties with a story I love. If they do it egregiously enough it ruins the movie for me. This abridgment focuses on the central love story (as it had to) and had me completely fascinated from nearly the beginning.
A few more incidental observations:
The film has a magical realist vibe to it. I won't give much detail as to how this works, but suffice to say that it in some places it felt a bit like a supernatural suspense or even horror movie, in that the tone and mood are gothic and baroquely romantic, occasionally verging on the excessive. It's not clear what's happening in a few places, if you don't already know the story (and again, I didn't) the motives of the characters can occasionally seem opaque and mildly fantastic. Once everything becomes clear, it all makes sense though. If Bronte herself had been advising the filmmakers, I imagine she would have been very pleased with result.
So I really appreciated the how the film dealt with spirituality. Most of the characters are fervent 19th century low church English Calvinists, cousins to Scotch Presbyterians, and this is portrayed in what I felt is a rich and fair manner. There are a few cruel and judgmental bigots of the type that sometimes give Christianity a bad name, and then many others who I thought are depicted living their their faith in a normal, or sympathetic even admirable way. There is also quite a bit of folk mysticism in the film, where it's clear that the characters see the world in what many people today would call magical terms. They believe there are spirits and unseen forces about, and they are always interacting with and effecting what is seen.. I liked this a lot, because I've encountered this type of culture in places myself, and it charms and seduces me. This spirituality helps give the film its lyrical and romantic air.
I also was struck how the landscape and physical context – which includes technology – effects culture, spirituality and religious worldview- the moors are stark and forbidding, which clearly impacts how the people there see the world. Everywhere I go lately, I notice this same effect: the material imbues the culture.
I've been thinking how things that we today take for granted, such as mass literacy (a result of modern publishing due the printing press and now internet, as well as universal schooling that accompanied industrialization just over 100 years ago) or mass produced clothes (made by ginned cotton or other industrially made cloth, and machine sewn to universal patterns – and which now everyone, even the comparatively poor can usually afford many sets of, as well as now have the ability to launder them well and often) – deeply effected, and in effect created the class hierarchies that used to exist.
To have good quality, clean clothes was much more expensive, and so rarer then. Having them was an automatic class marker. So too was literacy (a high quality education is what clearly marks Jane Eyre off from the common class in this story) more unusual – because books and paper and writing instruments were all rarer and more expensive, then..
This story, like Jane Austen's work, is obsessed with social status and the role of women in 19th Century English society. The heroine is an intrepid and sympathetic girl, who seeks her happiness and freedom through her relationships. Like Austen's heroines, she is a gentlewoman, in that she is educated and from an upper middle class, minor gentry background, but because of the death of her parents is thrown upon the mercies of others and eventually has to become a governess to support herself.
She's much like Jane Fairfax in Austen's Emma, in other words. Accomplished, very intelligent, and of a good family background, but forced by her circumstances to work teaching children. This how she ends up meeting Edward Rochester. He becomes her employer, but because she is by birth also a gentlewoman, he can socialize with her in a way that he could not with a lower servant.
This gives the story much deeper pathos than anything by Austen. All of Jane Austen's main female characters are of more secure economic circumstances. Even the Bennet sisters in Pride & Prejudice would have had enough of an income to live lives of genteel poverty without the need to work themselves, had they all failed to find husbands. Furthermore, only one of the Bennet sisters needed to land a rich husband for the rest of them to be all financially well off.
Jane Eyre would be destitute without her work. Unlike all of Austen's central female characters, she is also a servant. This gives her story a tragic dimension and a heightened desperation, her character being much more in need of both money and emotional outlet, as well as other sorts of consummation and freedom.
The fact that there was in normal circumstances no divorce in 1840's England, and that marriage was much more serious affair then, is also important here.
It really fascinates and amuses me that modern women swoon so much for these stories, in which the most obvious (perhaps only clear) means that the women in them can truly fulfill themselves is by binding themselves to men of property and power. Jane Eyre is particularly egregious in this, because as I say, Jane becomes utterly abject before her employer Edward Rochester, withholding only her integrity from him, which is exactly what makes him utterly fall for her.
He's rude and brusque, deliberately promenading another (rich and more beautiful) woman before her, and not hiding that he had apparently had a child by an affair (which he could not have hidden, since the child was her charge as governess). He very clearly is attracted to her almost immediately, and does not hide this despite her being both his employee as well as her being about 20 years younger than he is. He comes and goes as he pleases, treats her rudely, and then occasionally shows her any kindness and attention.
But he is a furnace of desire. That he so clearly wants Jane works like catnip to her inner kitten.
She very naturally falls deeply and insanely in love with him, and.. Well, I won't give any major spoilers here. Watch the film, you'll see. The point is that for the better part of the story she does very little other than be coy and insist that he respect her. It's pretty clear to him though that despite her attempt at maintaining sang froid that her sang is actually quite chaud. Until the very nearly the end of the film, he senses this and pursues her, and so is the protagonist in their relationship, while until the very end she more or less just reacts to him.
Demure, principled, but also passionately charged: the perfect feminine vibe.
I mean, to be utterly clear, I dug it all too. I only mention it as it just doesn't really jibe with the feminist narrative of women wanting to behave actively in romantic situations like men.
Here's my take on it all: I think these stories show how male and female desire are symbiotic to the point that they are compatible theses to one another: women are attracted by desire, by being desired. Female desire is incited by being the object of desire, but in a tantalizing and authoritative way. Male desire exhibited with confidence, elan and self-possession – that's the thing.
Male desire is simpler on the face of it, but in the end still fickle. I'll simply say (again, without giving much away as spoiler) that there are three other romantic relationships than his one with Jane that Edward Rochester has in the film – one with an unseen but reputedly beautiful yet capricious French actress who had been mother to Jane's charge, and another with a beautiful rich girl who is invited to the manor, who exhibits a disdain for Jane. The third relationship is even more over the top than the others (this is a Victorian Gothic romance, after all..) It is very clear to me why he prefers the demure and passionate yet scrupulously principled, as well as kind and generous (which is to say extremely feminine and nurturing) Jane to them all.
I'll also re-emphasize in closing that the restraints that 19th century Victorian society placed on married people very clearly made love and eros a very serious thing. Theirs was the diametric opposite of our modern pick-up and divorce ridden culture. I personally admire them theirs, and despise ours. Give me their mores, give me their moral, emotional and spiritual seriousness. This freedom we have is trite and boring.
Anyhow, the upshot is that this is a truly excellent movie, one that I thoroughly enjoyed and highly recommend.
---
Monday, May 9, 2011
From Fayetteville
The last week I've made a fool out of myself at least several times.
I've gone and said what I think about a half dozen times too often.
At length.
My usual schtick.
Lecturing priests about God, telling my friends how it is, while getting an absurd haircut and letting my beard grow.
On the ride here this afternoon, I realized that I should have "anti-gnostic" under my self description in the sidebar.
Because that is all that I need to say. That I know in my heart that it doesn't matter at all what I tell you here, really, and that I shouldn't be writing this blog at all. It's all words to the wind, and mostly vain ones at that.
I could tell you at length about Ibn Rushd, Francis Bacon, Faust and the pride of the intellect.
Instead, I think I will merely go to bed, and beg your forgiveness.
---
I've gone and said what I think about a half dozen times too often.
At length.
My usual schtick.
Lecturing priests about God, telling my friends how it is, while getting an absurd haircut and letting my beard grow.
On the ride here this afternoon, I realized that I should have "anti-gnostic" under my self description in the sidebar.
Because that is all that I need to say. That I know in my heart that it doesn't matter at all what I tell you here, really, and that I shouldn't be writing this blog at all. It's all words to the wind, and mostly vain ones at that.
I could tell you at length about Ibn Rushd, Francis Bacon, Faust and the pride of the intellect.
Instead, I think I will merely go to bed, and beg your forgiveness.
---
Friday, May 6, 2011
Osama Bin Laden is Dead: Mr. Obama Rules.
I've just had a moment of clarity.
Tonight, in the car, I realized that I really like Barack Obama. The dude's not perfect (who is?) but he's got his crap together. He hasn't made me despise him once in three years. He never makes an ass out himself, he hardly ever says anything that I know is a bald bullshit lie, he rarely grandstands. He's clearly clever, he can speak English, and he doesn't brag. Unlike Clinton or Dubya, I often go weeks without hearing anything at all about him. Bush and Clinton were constantly embarrassing us, constantly making fools out of themselves, making the country look like a trailer-trash soap opera carnival.
I mean, Clinton is very smart, and (scandals aside) governed well. But he gave the seditious jackasses on the right too many ways to embarrass him, and us. That Whitewater was a huge exercise in national hypocrisy (the savings and loan debacle was a bipartisan disgrace, and very likely involved far more Republican graft than Democratic.. The Bush family - Neil Bush especially - was smack in the middle of it for sure) and the spooge on the dress and the serial perjury was just.. well. Thank God it's over.
Obama though, he's Cool Hand Luke crossed with Shaft. They can't touch him. When they try, they look totally foolish, like the loony rabid gibbering dunces they are. The birther controversy is just classic. Feral horde of mouth breathing thugs.
Just shut the fuck up, already, and let the man govern the country.
I was listening to this hick representative from Georgia talking about how he wanted to de-fund Planned Parenthood tonight on the radio. I was like, yeah dude, I think that's like the only thing you and I agree on. 'Cause didn't you also just vote to extend subsidies to oil companies, while further deregulating off shore drilling this week (like every other member of the House Republican caucus) Aren't you also probably with Boner (or is it Boehner?) on de-funding NPR..?
Uh, what am I supposed to say? You (a "free market" "fiscal conservative?") want federal money to go to BP and the Standard Oil cartel, but not Fresh Air and Morning Edition?
Doesn't that just sum the utter cretinous hypocritical stupidity of the Republican Party right up.
Numb fucks. Excuse my French, but the Rebuttheadlickans are simply a disgrace. A clear and present danger to the health and solvency of the Republic.
Every time I have a foreign friend visit me, and they hear Public Radio (and if they travel in the car with me, they always do) they are always impressed. This is American radio? I'm like, yeah, isn't it awesome?
I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I can listen to Diane Rehm and Talk of the Nation, you see.
Here's the thing: if the election were this week, I think I'd vote for president for the first time in my life. I'd cast my vote for Barack Obama. I disagree with him on abortion, but that issue is clearly meaningless, in that the Rebuttheadlickans will never do anything substantial to change the status quo. It's politically null.
The only downside to Obama so far is that he's not the real deal: the retarded right is calling him a "socialist" when he's really not. He's really just Bush lite.
I want some hardcore socialism. Some serious anti-libertarian paternalism in government.
I want higher taxes for those making more than 100k per annum. Higher capital gains and estate taxes.
More regulation of markets, but especially oil, banking and financial services.
The bankers and investors who defrauded us recently need to prosecuted vigorously.
I want universal health care, on either the Swiss/German model, or else the French/Italian one. I want the insurance company cartel destroyed, and forced to insure everyone, and compete with one another in every state, at the very least. I want every American to be able to buy into Medicare, regardless of age or health.
I want our markets protected, and tariffs raised. I want reasonable rules that require any company doing business here to hire American labor at a living wage.
We need a guaranteed living wage on a 40 hour week. Profits that aren't re-invested in the business should largely go to labor.
I want the social safety net maintained and extended. No one - especially no child or anyone mentally ill - should be homeless.
Money isn't speech, and K Street needs to be abolished. Political contributions should be eliminated. We need public funding of campaigns.
Nor is porn speech, pornographers should be vigorously prosecuted .. (I think abortion doctors should be prosecuted too, but only in states that legislate such prosecution.)
We should serendipitously all have a mandated 2 hour siesta at lunchtime. Every Catholic holy day of obligation should also be a national holiday. We should return to the old (pre- Pius X) calender of Feasts of Precept, which name 36 not just 10 or 8 as feasts of obligation, and those feasts should never be translated to Sundays, but left where they fall in the week.
There, that's my political platform. Mr. Obama, I invite you to be my champion.
Anyway, I'm registering as a Democrat and joining Democrats for Life when I register in Vermont this summer.
I'll conclude by reiterating for the record that I despise George Dubya Bush. Not having to listen to him these last few years has been therapeutic.
His smirking simian frat-boy thuggery was an utter disgrace and embarrassment.
I heard he stood the President up today, and refused to appear publicly with him in New York.
Just what I'd expect from a warmogering draft-dodging chickenhawk preppy.
---
Tonight, in the car, I realized that I really like Barack Obama. The dude's not perfect (who is?) but he's got his crap together. He hasn't made me despise him once in three years. He never makes an ass out himself, he hardly ever says anything that I know is a bald bullshit lie, he rarely grandstands. He's clearly clever, he can speak English, and he doesn't brag. Unlike Clinton or Dubya, I often go weeks without hearing anything at all about him. Bush and Clinton were constantly embarrassing us, constantly making fools out of themselves, making the country look like a trailer-trash soap opera carnival.
I mean, Clinton is very smart, and (scandals aside) governed well. But he gave the seditious jackasses on the right too many ways to embarrass him, and us. That Whitewater was a huge exercise in national hypocrisy (the savings and loan debacle was a bipartisan disgrace, and very likely involved far more Republican graft than Democratic.. The Bush family - Neil Bush especially - was smack in the middle of it for sure) and the spooge on the dress and the serial perjury was just.. well. Thank God it's over.
Obama though, he's Cool Hand Luke crossed with Shaft. They can't touch him. When they try, they look totally foolish, like the loony rabid gibbering dunces they are. The birther controversy is just classic. Feral horde of mouth breathing thugs.
Just shut the fuck up, already, and let the man govern the country.
I was listening to this hick representative from Georgia talking about how he wanted to de-fund Planned Parenthood tonight on the radio. I was like, yeah dude, I think that's like the only thing you and I agree on. 'Cause didn't you also just vote to extend subsidies to oil companies, while further deregulating off shore drilling this week (like every other member of the House Republican caucus) Aren't you also probably with Boner (or is it Boehner?) on de-funding NPR..?
Uh, what am I supposed to say? You (a "free market" "fiscal conservative?") want federal money to go to BP and the Standard Oil cartel, but not Fresh Air and Morning Edition?
Doesn't that just sum the utter cretinous hypocritical stupidity of the Republican Party right up.
Numb fucks. Excuse my French, but the Rebuttheadlickans are simply a disgrace. A clear and present danger to the health and solvency of the Republic.
Every time I have a foreign friend visit me, and they hear Public Radio (and if they travel in the car with me, they always do) they are always impressed. This is American radio? I'm like, yeah, isn't it awesome?
I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I can listen to Diane Rehm and Talk of the Nation, you see.
Here's the thing: if the election were this week, I think I'd vote for president for the first time in my life. I'd cast my vote for Barack Obama. I disagree with him on abortion, but that issue is clearly meaningless, in that the Rebuttheadlickans will never do anything substantial to change the status quo. It's politically null.
The only downside to Obama so far is that he's not the real deal: the retarded right is calling him a "socialist" when he's really not. He's really just Bush lite.
I want some hardcore socialism. Some serious anti-libertarian paternalism in government.
I want higher taxes for those making more than 100k per annum. Higher capital gains and estate taxes.
More regulation of markets, but especially oil, banking and financial services.
The bankers and investors who defrauded us recently need to prosecuted vigorously.
I want universal health care, on either the Swiss/German model, or else the French/Italian one. I want the insurance company cartel destroyed, and forced to insure everyone, and compete with one another in every state, at the very least. I want every American to be able to buy into Medicare, regardless of age or health.
I want our markets protected, and tariffs raised. I want reasonable rules that require any company doing business here to hire American labor at a living wage.
We need a guaranteed living wage on a 40 hour week. Profits that aren't re-invested in the business should largely go to labor.
I want the social safety net maintained and extended. No one - especially no child or anyone mentally ill - should be homeless.
Money isn't speech, and K Street needs to be abolished. Political contributions should be eliminated. We need public funding of campaigns.
Nor is porn speech, pornographers should be vigorously prosecuted .. (I think abortion doctors should be prosecuted too, but only in states that legislate such prosecution.)
We should serendipitously all have a mandated 2 hour siesta at lunchtime. Every Catholic holy day of obligation should also be a national holiday. We should return to the old (pre- Pius X) calender of Feasts of Precept, which name 36 not just 10 or 8 as feasts of obligation, and those feasts should never be translated to Sundays, but left where they fall in the week.
There, that's my political platform. Mr. Obama, I invite you to be my champion.
Anyway, I'm registering as a Democrat and joining Democrats for Life when I register in Vermont this summer.
I'll conclude by reiterating for the record that I despise George Dubya Bush. Not having to listen to him these last few years has been therapeutic.
His smirking simian frat-boy thuggery was an utter disgrace and embarrassment.
I heard he stood the President up today, and refused to appear publicly with him in New York.
Just what I'd expect from a warmogering draft-dodging chickenhawk preppy.
---
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Oye..
I nearly missed it..
Merely one last requisite observation before I go to bed:
On this day in 1862, the Mexicans defeated the French at Puebla.
Now, to most American blowhards this may not seem like that big a deal. The French lose, that's what they do. Even to Mexicans.
But this was only 50 years after the Grande Armée had smashed all of Europe and burnt Moscow, and some 80 years after the French had guaranteed American victory over the British at Yorktown, on the very same day that the Army of the Potomac under McClellan was challenging the Confederates on almost that exact same ground on the Virginia coast at the Battle of Williamsburg. All this, a brief half dozen years after the French, British and Ottomans beat the Russians in the Crimea.
Which is merely to say that beating the French in 1862 had very different resonance than it would now, post blitz and colonial collapse..
And that I wholeheartedly love Mexicans, and that because and despite all the insanity that I experienced when I lived with them..
Entonces, hoy necesito decirte,
¡Viva México! ¡Viva Puebla! ¡Viva el 5 de mayo!
---
Merely one last requisite observation before I go to bed:
On this day in 1862, the Mexicans defeated the French at Puebla.
Now, to most American blowhards this may not seem like that big a deal. The French lose, that's what they do. Even to Mexicans.
But this was only 50 years after the Grande Armée had smashed all of Europe and burnt Moscow, and some 80 years after the French had guaranteed American victory over the British at Yorktown, on the very same day that the Army of the Potomac under McClellan was challenging the Confederates on almost that exact same ground on the Virginia coast at the Battle of Williamsburg. All this, a brief half dozen years after the French, British and Ottomans beat the Russians in the Crimea.
Which is merely to say that beating the French in 1862 had very different resonance than it would now, post blitz and colonial collapse..
And that I wholeheartedly love Mexicans, and that because and despite all the insanity that I experienced when I lived with them..
Entonces, hoy necesito decirte,
¡Viva México! ¡Viva Puebla! ¡Viva el 5 de mayo!
---
On Distrust & Anger
I've been thinking about my anger.
Until a few years ago, I wasn't even aware that I was angry. It wasn't even an emotion, most of the time. It was more a psychic state, where I'd spun out. A mix of alienation and fury, death by 10,000 judgments consumed by cognitive and spiritual dissonance.
It began back in the 1990's when I began to read Church history, taken up in a rapture of re-conversion, convicted and in search of the perfect apologetic. I want to write about this (re)search in detail, but in small increments. I'm not going to start tonight. This coming week I'll start, by first getting to the nub of things in less than 1,000 words. After that, I may have a dozen brief essays about ecclesiology, epistemology and authority in me.
I'll just note that the "problems" proliferate pretty quickly, but that no one is unscathed when it comes to them. Everyone's running around naked pretending to be clothed.
Anyway, this perceived crisis in authority is at the root of, and is the backdrop to, my anger.
The two main axes of my identity - the things I had the most of my sense of self invested in, namely my identity as an American and a Catholic, were both called into profound question. Things I had never imagined could be true, clearly were.
I felt betrayed, lied to and manipulated. Victim of multiple trahisons des clercs.
First, there was the bald treason of our bishops. I do not think that Catholic priests abuse minors at a much greater rate than say teachers do. That's not to say we do not have major issues pertaining to gender and sexuality within the Church or priesthood and religious life. We clearly do. But none of that is the main issue: the fundamental betrayal in my eyes is not in all that.
It's that the bishops conspired to protect the very worst abusers, over and over again.
That the Church is not unique in this sort of corruption, and has been subjected to a scrutiny that should (but is unlikely to) be also applied to other institutions, religious and otherwise, in our society, is also beside the point.
It's that they systematically lied about the violation of innocence, over and over and over again. And that they did it everywhere, in a way that makes it pretty clear that the "strategy" of obfuscation and denial of truth goes to the very top.
The pope himself, the curia. Back decades, centuries.
I am going to write more about this, in personal terms, succinctly, yet in also in a bit of detail. Suffice to say for now that when I started reading about it (in books like Leon Podles' Sacrilege) it destroyed me.
The worst about those I had considered the best was true.
At the same time, my country, that I had also put on a pedestal, was attacked in an inconceivably graphic way.
Like most of us, I was traumatized by it. Unlike most, though, our national response did not make any sense to me. I mean, I understood it on an emotional level. Fear of nuclear terror. Strike back in revenge. Got it.
It was the entire Axis of Evil Shtick that I didn't get.
I have no interest in defending the Ba'athists or Mullahs.
What I resent is being fed obviously fraudulent propaganda lines. I resent turning them into cartoon villains, caricaturing them in ways that are obviously false, that lead us to misunderstand them.
It was very clear from the beginning that we were being propagandized and manipulated according to an agenda that had little or nothing to do with the one publicly professed by our leaders.
It was disinformation and lies on the scale similar to that practiced by Goebbels and Stalin, along with a rationale for violence ripped from the Nazi playbook.
Preemptive war is never just. Iraq, Iran and Korea were not allies and were in no way ever equivalent in any way to Germany, Italy and Japan in 1939. None of them was nor is in any way a real threat to the United Sates, nuclear weapons or no.
The Ba'ath party is not a admirable organization, but let's be clear here: the sorts of things they are guilty of are not that extraordinary. Everyone from China to half of Africa and many of our Arab allies and the Israelis commit similar sorts of torture and violence as the Ba'athists in Syria and Iraq have, all the time.
It offends me when our press and leadership pretends otherwise, and then uses such pretension as a pretext to war.
In fact, we have now done most of the things to Iraqis that we accused Saddam of: tortured with impunity, used despicable weapons such as depleted uranium that will have centuries of devastating consequences for the Iraqi people, and killed tens of thousands of Iraqis imposing our will on their country.
Anyway, I hate being lied to, and I hate gross liars. I also intensely dislike violence, and when we all went on an ecstatic orgiastic binge of it, "shock n' awe" and all that inexcusable cruelty that we inflicted on the Iraqi people..
Well, I'll be honest. My childhood love for my country died in 2003.
I feel like I've been betrayed, and don't really know how to deal with the emotional and psychic consequences of that.
This is merely an wordy explanation for why I've boiled over here these last few days.
I see lies everywhere now, and suspect the very worst is possible.
Because they are, and it is.
---
Until a few years ago, I wasn't even aware that I was angry. It wasn't even an emotion, most of the time. It was more a psychic state, where I'd spun out. A mix of alienation and fury, death by 10,000 judgments consumed by cognitive and spiritual dissonance.
It began back in the 1990's when I began to read Church history, taken up in a rapture of re-conversion, convicted and in search of the perfect apologetic. I want to write about this (re)search in detail, but in small increments. I'm not going to start tonight. This coming week I'll start, by first getting to the nub of things in less than 1,000 words. After that, I may have a dozen brief essays about ecclesiology, epistemology and authority in me.
I'll just note that the "problems" proliferate pretty quickly, but that no one is unscathed when it comes to them. Everyone's running around naked pretending to be clothed.
Anyway, this perceived crisis in authority is at the root of, and is the backdrop to, my anger.
The two main axes of my identity - the things I had the most of my sense of self invested in, namely my identity as an American and a Catholic, were both called into profound question. Things I had never imagined could be true, clearly were.
I felt betrayed, lied to and manipulated. Victim of multiple trahisons des clercs.
First, there was the bald treason of our bishops. I do not think that Catholic priests abuse minors at a much greater rate than say teachers do. That's not to say we do not have major issues pertaining to gender and sexuality within the Church or priesthood and religious life. We clearly do. But none of that is the main issue: the fundamental betrayal in my eyes is not in all that.
It's that the bishops conspired to protect the very worst abusers, over and over again.
That the Church is not unique in this sort of corruption, and has been subjected to a scrutiny that should (but is unlikely to) be also applied to other institutions, religious and otherwise, in our society, is also beside the point.
It's that they systematically lied about the violation of innocence, over and over and over again. And that they did it everywhere, in a way that makes it pretty clear that the "strategy" of obfuscation and denial of truth goes to the very top.
The pope himself, the curia. Back decades, centuries.
I am going to write more about this, in personal terms, succinctly, yet in also in a bit of detail. Suffice to say for now that when I started reading about it (in books like Leon Podles' Sacrilege) it destroyed me.
The worst about those I had considered the best was true.
At the same time, my country, that I had also put on a pedestal, was attacked in an inconceivably graphic way.
Like most of us, I was traumatized by it. Unlike most, though, our national response did not make any sense to me. I mean, I understood it on an emotional level. Fear of nuclear terror. Strike back in revenge. Got it.
It was the entire Axis of Evil Shtick that I didn't get.
I have no interest in defending the Ba'athists or Mullahs.
What I resent is being fed obviously fraudulent propaganda lines. I resent turning them into cartoon villains, caricaturing them in ways that are obviously false, that lead us to misunderstand them.
It was very clear from the beginning that we were being propagandized and manipulated according to an agenda that had little or nothing to do with the one publicly professed by our leaders.
It was disinformation and lies on the scale similar to that practiced by Goebbels and Stalin, along with a rationale for violence ripped from the Nazi playbook.
Preemptive war is never just. Iraq, Iran and Korea were not allies and were in no way ever equivalent in any way to Germany, Italy and Japan in 1939. None of them was nor is in any way a real threat to the United Sates, nuclear weapons or no.
The Ba'ath party is not a admirable organization, but let's be clear here: the sorts of things they are guilty of are not that extraordinary. Everyone from China to half of Africa and many of our Arab allies and the Israelis commit similar sorts of torture and violence as the Ba'athists in Syria and Iraq have, all the time.
It offends me when our press and leadership pretends otherwise, and then uses such pretension as a pretext to war.
In fact, we have now done most of the things to Iraqis that we accused Saddam of: tortured with impunity, used despicable weapons such as depleted uranium that will have centuries of devastating consequences for the Iraqi people, and killed tens of thousands of Iraqis imposing our will on their country.
Anyway, I hate being lied to, and I hate gross liars. I also intensely dislike violence, and when we all went on an ecstatic orgiastic binge of it, "shock n' awe" and all that inexcusable cruelty that we inflicted on the Iraqi people..
Well, I'll be honest. My childhood love for my country died in 2003.
I feel like I've been betrayed, and don't really know how to deal with the emotional and psychic consequences of that.
This is merely an wordy explanation for why I've boiled over here these last few days.
I see lies everywhere now, and suspect the very worst is possible.
Because they are, and it is.
---
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Golpes en el Corazon: Los Tigres del Norte
Yo te regalaba todo, todo lo que me pedias
sin embargo me reclamas y te daba hasta mi vida...
pero tu que me has dado falsas promesas de amor...
pero tu que me has dado golpes en el corazon...
Yo te regalaba todo hoy reñimos y te olvidas...
sali mal con mis amigos porque tu no los querias...
pero tu que me has dado todo lo perdi por ti.
pero tu que me has dado solo me has hecho sufrir...
para sanar las heridas voy a buscar otro amor,
casi arruinaste mi vida golpeando mi corazon...
Yo te regalaba todo,
con mi madre discutia me queria abrir los ojos perdoname madre mia...
pero tu que me has dado falsas promesas de amor,
pero tu que me has dado golpes en el corazon...
para sanar las heridas voy a buscar otro amor
casi arruinaste mi vida golpeando mi corazon...
pero tu que me has dado falsas promesas de amor
pero tu que me has dado golpes en el corazon...
pero tu que me has dado falsas promesas de amor....
pero tu que me has dado golpes en el corazon.
---
Golpes en el Corazon.. From the Halls of Montezuma to the Avenida de los Niños Héroes..
On July 17th 1996 I flew down to Mexico, to teach at a prep school down there.
I remember that date for a reason.
The town (which I will not name here) was one of those Sonoran municipalities that had been laid out in a grid by Mormon city planners back in the late 1800's.
One of the streets was named Avenida de los Niños Héroes, as in most Mexican towns. I asked someone who they were, and received my first of many object lessons about history's many possible inversions.
Do you remember 1848? The grandchildren of the last Caudillo do. I've met them. I taught them English. They told me so.
There was this guy I knew there who had been in Army special forces (like a few other people I know) and had done some odd things. One night over tequila after carne asada he told me about how he'd been involved in loading planes with cocaine during a stint in Central America back in the 80's. Could have been b'sing me, but in that context (where I was in a place where half the city was - without exaggeration - living in shacks with farm animals, and most of my students where from families with houses like the ones JR lived in on Dallas - big sprawling modern, trashy neo-classical places with at armed guards at the gates..) it made sense..
When the drug money and violence is in your face, and apparently half your students' families are running chop shop and coyote operations, that sort of admission isn't that weird.
After all, Amado Carrillo Fuentes had died on the plastic surgeon's table in the latter part of that year, and his surgeon's body reportedly was then found chopped into chunks in a trash bag.. One of my student's uncles had been kidnapped and killed a few years before (from very rich agribusiness family with reputedly 100's of millions) and had been killed by the kidnappers. Those fellows reputedly all met very public and grotesque deaths.. This is what happens to anyone who kidnaps a Diaz-Brown..
Merely a foretaste of the violence that was to come.
At the time, I was really still an American evangelist. I was pretty arrogant, and had the gall to lecture my students on how their corruption was doing them in, and how we Americans were in contrast incorruptible, which explained our power.
I actually delivered that message to them in a lecture, after I caught a bunch of them red-handed cheating. I knew that they were all cheating, almost all the time, but they were good, and I didn't have the wit or energy to catch them most of the time.
(I never told them about Pik and Hartley passing the answers back and forth brazenly in Health Class, or any of that other counter indicative stuff.. One of the many slight hypocrisies I've committed in my time..)
Very Calvinistic attitude, anyhow. We are rich and powerful because we are good.
The prosperity gospel in a nut shell.
I've long since lost that faith.. The last post was merely my shooting the pooch for the last time, and saying it out loud.
How did it happen?
Some point along the way.. Or was it in increments?
Maybe it was when Grover Norquist said that he wants "strangle the government in the bathtub"? Then his boys get elected, they cut taxes for the wealthy and keep on spending, and then squeal how the government is inefficient when the deficit explodes.. This, while massive amounts of public money goes to pork and private business?
Or, when a bunch of Saudis lead by an Egyptian putatively (I love that word, putative) attack us, and our response is to launch an attack on Iraq, the arch- enemy of Salafi and Shiite Muslim extremists.. And also incidentally perhaps the most important oil power left, and the second biggest threat to the Saudis after Iran?
Or, when they overturn usury laws, repeal Glass-Steagall, and then we immediately get screwed in a series of bubbles and fraudulent insurance scams, in which institutions are destroyed, but individual speculators walk away free and filthy rich?
All this, while our oil and banking scion president walks hand in hand with the Saudi "king" across the White House lawn, and then kisses him for the cameras.
When I was in Florida people kept on saying things like "I won't be surprised if they get Obama.. Someone's gonna shoot that bastard.." This, with the implicit understanding that someone shooting the president would be a good thing.
That may have been the last straw.
Is it that cynicism is like never having to say you're sorry..
Or is it that paranoia's just having too many of the facts?
I've lost my testimony. I no longer can tell..
---
I remember that date for a reason.
The town (which I will not name here) was one of those Sonoran municipalities that had been laid out in a grid by Mormon city planners back in the late 1800's.
One of the streets was named Avenida de los Niños Héroes, as in most Mexican towns. I asked someone who they were, and received my first of many object lessons about history's many possible inversions.
Do you remember 1848? The grandchildren of the last Caudillo do. I've met them. I taught them English. They told me so.
There was this guy I knew there who had been in Army special forces (like a few other people I know) and had done some odd things. One night over tequila after carne asada he told me about how he'd been involved in loading planes with cocaine during a stint in Central America back in the 80's. Could have been b'sing me, but in that context (where I was in a place where half the city was - without exaggeration - living in shacks with farm animals, and most of my students where from families with houses like the ones JR lived in on Dallas - big sprawling modern, trashy neo-classical places with at armed guards at the gates..) it made sense..
When the drug money and violence is in your face, and apparently half your students' families are running chop shop and coyote operations, that sort of admission isn't that weird.
After all, Amado Carrillo Fuentes had died on the plastic surgeon's table in the latter part of that year, and his surgeon's body reportedly was then found chopped into chunks in a trash bag.. One of my student's uncles had been kidnapped and killed a few years before (from very rich agribusiness family with reputedly 100's of millions) and had been killed by the kidnappers. Those fellows reputedly all met very public and grotesque deaths.. This is what happens to anyone who kidnaps a Diaz-Brown..
Merely a foretaste of the violence that was to come.
At the time, I was really still an American evangelist. I was pretty arrogant, and had the gall to lecture my students on how their corruption was doing them in, and how we Americans were in contrast incorruptible, which explained our power.
I actually delivered that message to them in a lecture, after I caught a bunch of them red-handed cheating. I knew that they were all cheating, almost all the time, but they were good, and I didn't have the wit or energy to catch them most of the time.
(I never told them about Pik and Hartley passing the answers back and forth brazenly in Health Class, or any of that other counter indicative stuff.. One of the many slight hypocrisies I've committed in my time..)
Very Calvinistic attitude, anyhow. We are rich and powerful because we are good.
The prosperity gospel in a nut shell.
I've long since lost that faith.. The last post was merely my shooting the pooch for the last time, and saying it out loud.
How did it happen?
Some point along the way.. Or was it in increments?
Maybe it was when Grover Norquist said that he wants "strangle the government in the bathtub"? Then his boys get elected, they cut taxes for the wealthy and keep on spending, and then squeal how the government is inefficient when the deficit explodes.. This, while massive amounts of public money goes to pork and private business?
Or, when a bunch of Saudis lead by an Egyptian putatively (I love that word, putative) attack us, and our response is to launch an attack on Iraq, the arch- enemy of Salafi and Shiite Muslim extremists.. And also incidentally perhaps the most important oil power left, and the second biggest threat to the Saudis after Iran?
Or, when they overturn usury laws, repeal Glass-Steagall, and then we immediately get screwed in a series of bubbles and fraudulent insurance scams, in which institutions are destroyed, but individual speculators walk away free and filthy rich?
All this, while our oil and banking scion president walks hand in hand with the Saudi "king" across the White House lawn, and then kisses him for the cameras.
When I was in Florida people kept on saying things like "I won't be surprised if they get Obama.. Someone's gonna shoot that bastard.." This, with the implicit understanding that someone shooting the president would be a good thing.
That may have been the last straw.
Is it that cynicism is like never having to say you're sorry..
Or is it that paranoia's just having too many of the facts?
I've lost my testimony. I no longer can tell..
---
On the Utility of Occam's Razor
So, the simplest explanation is almost always the correct one, aye?
I was just watching the Zaphruder film of JFK's assassination:
(this is graphic, and is appropriately enough preceded by a *Target* commercial)
JFK Kennedy Assassination - Zapruder film - high... by virveli
It's really amusing stuff, actually, because it's very clear that the bullet that kills him by blowing his skull open is definitely coming from his front. The vicinity of the "grassy knoll" and the overpass in front of the car, in other words. The Texas Schoolbook "Suppository" where Oswald supposedly is shooting from is behind the vehicle.
It's simple physics. A body hit by a bullet doesn't blow toward the bullet, but away from it. Kennedy was blown toward Oswald's putative location, and away from the knoll and the overpass. The exit wound on Kennedy's head is in the back, not the front of his head.
The fact that the Keystone cops of the Dallas PD and FBI (who along with the Secret Service so scandalously failed to protect the President that day) immediately get Oswald's description, then arrest him, is also amusing. That Oswald - whose curriculum vitae screams CIA plant - claims to be a patsy to his dying breath, and is immediately off'ed by a mob hitman claiming to be acting from motives of vigilante patriotism, just seals the case.
Who benefits from Kennedy's death? LBJ and his Texas cronies, the mob, the cold warriors who want to escalate the war in Vietnam and action against Cuba.
Kennedy apparently was undergoing a change of heart on all of that stuff, and wanted to undo the CIA, and ratchet down the Cold War, or so rumor has it. Bobby Kennedy was also an activist against the mob, and was becoming a heretic on the Cold War, too. The Boston Irish Brahmin, not a great friend to the Southern establishment Texas oilmen..
That this is some sort of scandalous "conspiracy theory" frowned upon by the powers that be (the lone nut gunman did it! it's always the lone nut who's to blame..) is simply hilarious. Sure, dudes. It was Oswald acting alone. Sure.
I'll note that George H. W. Bush is an Eastern Banking Brahmin, but of old English and Dutch Yalie stock, who gets in bed deep with the Tejas oilmen.
He is serendipitously appointed head of the CIA "out of nowhere" in 1976. Just a Texas congressman who lucked out, see.
I say that the simpler explanation is that he had been involved in the intelligence community since his days in navy intelligence photography as a pilot during WW II. Yale, George's alma mater, has been at the forefront of providing leadership in the intelligence community since before WW I.
I'll also note that George was apparently in Fort Worth the day of the JFK assassination.
Odd fact, that. Well, everyone who was anyone in Texas politics was in the vicinity that day, right?
Anyway, I say that the assassination fits easily into the larger Machiavellian drama, in which Texas is at the epicenter of power in which oil, weapons and cheap labor as well as drugs like cocaine and heroine are the essential commodities.
Illegal immigration of cheap labor, sex trafficking, drugs and weapons. And oil.
Texas. Mexico. Columbia and Venezuela. Oil, drugs, weapons. Money laundering.
The mob and cartels meld into our intelligence community and "legitimate" business in banking, oil and weapons.
Our foreign policy can only be understood in terms of all that money.
Confused as to why we are going to remain in Afghanistan even now that Osama and "al-Qaeda" are gone? That we are going to stay in Iraq, even now that the place is stable and we've "restored democracy" there?
One thing explains our presence in Iraq: one forth of the world's remaining proven petroleum reserves are there.
Two things explain our presence in Central Asia: Afghan heroin and oil in the Caspian Sea and Central Asia.
Heroin, you say? But we're squeaky clean, we don't have anything to do with that.
Yeah. Okeedokee. In 2000 the Taliban put a ban on production of opium poppies, causing world production of heroin to drop 95%.
The very next year, we've taken them out, and have planted an army there. Opium production soars back up to pre- Taliban ban levels.
This, like every nefarious thing we do, is just an "accident." We can't stop it, see?
I'll spell it out, and paint a quick picture for you:
The Afghan trade in opiates (92 percent of total World production of opiates) constitutes a large share of the worldwide annual turnover of narcotics, which was estimated by the United Nations to be of the order of $400-500 billion.
(Douglas Keh, Drug Money in a Changing World, Technical document No. 4, 1998, Vienna UNDCP, p. 4. See also United Nations Drug Control Program, Report of the International Narcotics Control Board for 1999, E/INCB/1999/1 United Nations, Vienna 1999, p. 49-51, and Richard Lapper, UN Fears Growth of Heroin Trade, Financial Times, 24 February 2000).
Based on 2003 figures, drug trafficking constitutes "the third biggest global commodity in cash terms after oil and the arms trade." (The Independent, 29 February 2004).
Afghanistan and Colombia are the largest drug producing economies in the world, which feed a flourishing criminal economy. These countries are heavily militarized. The drug trade is protected. It is well and amply documented the CIA has played a central role in the development of both the Latin American and Asian drug triangles.
The IMF estimated global money laundering to be between 590 billion and 1.5 trillion dollars a year, representing 2-5 percent of global GDP. (Asian Banker, 15 August 2003). A large share of global money laundering as estimated by the IMF is linked to the trade in narcotics.
The Great Game is always on, and having that chit on the central Asian land mass, against the Iranians, Russians, Chinese and Indians is the key.
As for the death of Osama, I say that the evidence says he never ceased being an ISI asset.
I also say that the CIA is allied with the ISI, and that our intelligence community and political elite are engaged in a huge Machiavellian game involving money, drugs, oil, weapons and cheap labor.
Guns and money, drugs and oil. (I'm repeating myself for effect. Chant it like a mantra, throw sex in there once in a while for added zest and frisson..)
They hop gladly into bed with anyone who will give them power over these things.
The Saudis, the Paki ruling class.
The average American, who gets all riled up over religion and patriotism and stuff like gender issues (them dang femanazis!) is a chump.
They keep their Praetorians obsessed with Kim Kardashian's boob job, flush with just enough porn, corn syrup and cash to keep us dumb and happy.
God bless America!
And with that, I need to go make more tea.
---
I was just watching the Zaphruder film of JFK's assassination:
(this is graphic, and is appropriately enough preceded by a *Target* commercial)
JFK Kennedy Assassination - Zapruder film - high... by virveli
It's really amusing stuff, actually, because it's very clear that the bullet that kills him by blowing his skull open is definitely coming from his front. The vicinity of the "grassy knoll" and the overpass in front of the car, in other words. The Texas Schoolbook "Suppository" where Oswald supposedly is shooting from is behind the vehicle.
It's simple physics. A body hit by a bullet doesn't blow toward the bullet, but away from it. Kennedy was blown toward Oswald's putative location, and away from the knoll and the overpass. The exit wound on Kennedy's head is in the back, not the front of his head.
The fact that the Keystone cops of the Dallas PD and FBI (who along with the Secret Service so scandalously failed to protect the President that day) immediately get Oswald's description, then arrest him, is also amusing. That Oswald - whose curriculum vitae screams CIA plant - claims to be a patsy to his dying breath, and is immediately off'ed by a mob hitman claiming to be acting from motives of vigilante patriotism, just seals the case.
Who benefits from Kennedy's death? LBJ and his Texas cronies, the mob, the cold warriors who want to escalate the war in Vietnam and action against Cuba.
Kennedy apparently was undergoing a change of heart on all of that stuff, and wanted to undo the CIA, and ratchet down the Cold War, or so rumor has it. Bobby Kennedy was also an activist against the mob, and was becoming a heretic on the Cold War, too. The Boston Irish Brahmin, not a great friend to the Southern establishment Texas oilmen..
That this is some sort of scandalous "conspiracy theory" frowned upon by the powers that be (the lone nut gunman did it! it's always the lone nut who's to blame..) is simply hilarious. Sure, dudes. It was Oswald acting alone. Sure.
I'll note that George H. W. Bush is an Eastern Banking Brahmin, but of old English and Dutch Yalie stock, who gets in bed deep with the Tejas oilmen.
He is serendipitously appointed head of the CIA "out of nowhere" in 1976. Just a Texas congressman who lucked out, see.
I say that the simpler explanation is that he had been involved in the intelligence community since his days in navy intelligence photography as a pilot during WW II. Yale, George's alma mater, has been at the forefront of providing leadership in the intelligence community since before WW I.
I'll also note that George was apparently in Fort Worth the day of the JFK assassination.
Odd fact, that. Well, everyone who was anyone in Texas politics was in the vicinity that day, right?
Anyway, I say that the assassination fits easily into the larger Machiavellian drama, in which Texas is at the epicenter of power in which oil, weapons and cheap labor as well as drugs like cocaine and heroine are the essential commodities.
Illegal immigration of cheap labor, sex trafficking, drugs and weapons. And oil.
Texas. Mexico. Columbia and Venezuela. Oil, drugs, weapons. Money laundering.
The mob and cartels meld into our intelligence community and "legitimate" business in banking, oil and weapons.
Our foreign policy can only be understood in terms of all that money.
Confused as to why we are going to remain in Afghanistan even now that Osama and "al-Qaeda" are gone? That we are going to stay in Iraq, even now that the place is stable and we've "restored democracy" there?
One thing explains our presence in Iraq: one forth of the world's remaining proven petroleum reserves are there.
Two things explain our presence in Central Asia: Afghan heroin and oil in the Caspian Sea and Central Asia.
Heroin, you say? But we're squeaky clean, we don't have anything to do with that.
Yeah. Okeedokee. In 2000 the Taliban put a ban on production of opium poppies, causing world production of heroin to drop 95%.
The very next year, we've taken them out, and have planted an army there. Opium production soars back up to pre- Taliban ban levels.
This, like every nefarious thing we do, is just an "accident." We can't stop it, see?
I'll spell it out, and paint a quick picture for you:
The Afghan trade in opiates (92 percent of total World production of opiates) constitutes a large share of the worldwide annual turnover of narcotics, which was estimated by the United Nations to be of the order of $400-500 billion.
(Douglas Keh, Drug Money in a Changing World, Technical document No. 4, 1998, Vienna UNDCP, p. 4. See also United Nations Drug Control Program, Report of the International Narcotics Control Board for 1999, E/INCB/1999/1 United Nations, Vienna 1999, p. 49-51, and Richard Lapper, UN Fears Growth of Heroin Trade, Financial Times, 24 February 2000).
Based on 2003 figures, drug trafficking constitutes "the third biggest global commodity in cash terms after oil and the arms trade." (The Independent, 29 February 2004).
Afghanistan and Colombia are the largest drug producing economies in the world, which feed a flourishing criminal economy. These countries are heavily militarized. The drug trade is protected. It is well and amply documented the CIA has played a central role in the development of both the Latin American and Asian drug triangles.
The IMF estimated global money laundering to be between 590 billion and 1.5 trillion dollars a year, representing 2-5 percent of global GDP. (Asian Banker, 15 August 2003). A large share of global money laundering as estimated by the IMF is linked to the trade in narcotics.
The Great Game is always on, and having that chit on the central Asian land mass, against the Iranians, Russians, Chinese and Indians is the key.
As for the death of Osama, I say that the evidence says he never ceased being an ISI asset.
I also say that the CIA is allied with the ISI, and that our intelligence community and political elite are engaged in a huge Machiavellian game involving money, drugs, oil, weapons and cheap labor.
Guns and money, drugs and oil. (I'm repeating myself for effect. Chant it like a mantra, throw sex in there once in a while for added zest and frisson..)
They hop gladly into bed with anyone who will give them power over these things.
The Saudis, the Paki ruling class.
The average American, who gets all riled up over religion and patriotism and stuff like gender issues (them dang femanazis!) is a chump.
They keep their Praetorians obsessed with Kim Kardashian's boob job, flush with just enough porn, corn syrup and cash to keep us dumb and happy.
God bless America!
And with that, I need to go make more tea.
---
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
"Back and to the Left.."
So, our boys simply sailed in and took Osama out, in the heart of Paki power? Without Paki foreknowledge and consent?
We risked accidental cause of war with the world's second largest Muslim (and admitted top ten nuclear) power simply so the NASCAR set can stroke their engines with patriotic lube?
Callin' Bull Fucking Shit.
---
We risked accidental cause of war with the world's second largest Muslim (and admitted top ten nuclear) power simply so the NASCAR set can stroke their engines with patriotic lube?
Callin' Bull Fucking Shit.
---
Monday, May 2, 2011
A Proud Day to be an American, etc.
I realized something today. This is now officially the second time in my life that I've gone on a McDonald's binge. The first, which I think I mentioned earlier here on the blog, was when I was in Cairo, and finally got fed up with the place.
I found myself this afternoon eating at McDonald's for the fifth day in a row.. Ten days in the last two weeks.
There was nothing else that I wanted to eat, other than a ranch BLT grilled chicken sandwich and a couple salads with balsamic vinaigrette.
As I sat down, I heard some people speaking thick Vermont redneck, saying "we finally got the bastard.." I turn, and there there are three absurdly fat Vermonters examining a copy of the Burlington Free Press, the banner headline "Osama Bin Laden Dead."
No way. Really. Finally.
I remember how we drew a red target on Osama's face, and used it as the sceensaver on our computer in our classroom at DLI..
The fat people were reading the story, talking about it in loud tones:
"Two faced Pakistani bastards, we should go in there and slap 'em all good and hard on both faces.."
Yeah, buddy. "We" should definitely do that. You and Seal Team 6. You guys go in. I'll sit here and drink McDonald's espresso, and read about it in the Burlington Free Press.. Know I'm rooting for you all.
You can slap them on one cheek, and then get them to turn the other one. Proper Christian manner of treating Muslims.
I grabbed the paper after they left, and read the story. It's no surprise the newspaper business is dying, the story was a load of crap. They obviously had had no information when they went to press, spent several columns rehashing the events of 9/11 ("three planes hit their targets..")
I was, however, pleased to see that my prediction came out correct: Osama was not in fact in the tribal areas on the Afghan border, but rather in a compound in the heart of the Pakistani power elite's territory. Down the road from their military academy, in a neighborhood with rich and powerful Paki neighbors. I'd said that I believed he was hiding in a well appointed basement somewhere in Riyadh or Islamabad, protected by the ISI and Saudi establishment, and I was exactly right.
The CIA and our own elite are deep in bed with all of those people, by the way. People like the Bushes and all their Carlyle Group buddies are in alliance with them, the worst and nastiest.
That is just to say that the hunt for Osama - now "successful" - was in essence a shadow boxing charade.
That they killed him instead of taking him hostage and putting him on trial is par for the course. Shot him in the head, meaning that there will be no photo of his corpse in the press. Buried his body at sea, within 24 hours.. Putatively because they're so sensitive to Muslim religious sensibilities that dictate early burial.. But with the effect that his remains are now gone, beyond all but the most forensic of propaganda.. Having him in custody would be dangerous, see. An open criminal trial with a public defense was the last thing our elite wants. They need all the events of that once upon a time September day to remain shrouded in confusion and secrecy, because at the very least they failed in their essential charge of defending the country. At worse, they were complicit.
Their great abdication of all accountability - in which the bastards who fail are promoted, and thieves are given bonuses even as they drive their corporations and our economy into the ground - is the true ethos of capitalism.
The cartel must at all costs protect itself.
The rich get richer, the commander is always promoted.
And the American hoi palloi chant USA! USA! and scream that the government is evil even as they drape themselves in the stars and bars while falling into masturbatory raptures over the military.
I think I'll eat at McDonald's again, tonight..
---
I found myself this afternoon eating at McDonald's for the fifth day in a row.. Ten days in the last two weeks.
There was nothing else that I wanted to eat, other than a ranch BLT grilled chicken sandwich and a couple salads with balsamic vinaigrette.
As I sat down, I heard some people speaking thick Vermont redneck, saying "we finally got the bastard.." I turn, and there there are three absurdly fat Vermonters examining a copy of the Burlington Free Press, the banner headline "Osama Bin Laden Dead."
No way. Really. Finally.
I remember how we drew a red target on Osama's face, and used it as the sceensaver on our computer in our classroom at DLI..
The fat people were reading the story, talking about it in loud tones:
"Two faced Pakistani bastards, we should go in there and slap 'em all good and hard on both faces.."
Yeah, buddy. "We" should definitely do that. You and Seal Team 6. You guys go in. I'll sit here and drink McDonald's espresso, and read about it in the Burlington Free Press.. Know I'm rooting for you all.
You can slap them on one cheek, and then get them to turn the other one. Proper Christian manner of treating Muslims.
I grabbed the paper after they left, and read the story. It's no surprise the newspaper business is dying, the story was a load of crap. They obviously had had no information when they went to press, spent several columns rehashing the events of 9/11 ("three planes hit their targets..")
I was, however, pleased to see that my prediction came out correct: Osama was not in fact in the tribal areas on the Afghan border, but rather in a compound in the heart of the Pakistani power elite's territory. Down the road from their military academy, in a neighborhood with rich and powerful Paki neighbors. I'd said that I believed he was hiding in a well appointed basement somewhere in Riyadh or Islamabad, protected by the ISI and Saudi establishment, and I was exactly right.
The CIA and our own elite are deep in bed with all of those people, by the way. People like the Bushes and all their Carlyle Group buddies are in alliance with them, the worst and nastiest.
That is just to say that the hunt for Osama - now "successful" - was in essence a shadow boxing charade.
That they killed him instead of taking him hostage and putting him on trial is par for the course. Shot him in the head, meaning that there will be no photo of his corpse in the press. Buried his body at sea, within 24 hours.. Putatively because they're so sensitive to Muslim religious sensibilities that dictate early burial.. But with the effect that his remains are now gone, beyond all but the most forensic of propaganda.. Having him in custody would be dangerous, see. An open criminal trial with a public defense was the last thing our elite wants. They need all the events of that once upon a time September day to remain shrouded in confusion and secrecy, because at the very least they failed in their essential charge of defending the country. At worse, they were complicit.
Their great abdication of all accountability - in which the bastards who fail are promoted, and thieves are given bonuses even as they drive their corporations and our economy into the ground - is the true ethos of capitalism.
The cartel must at all costs protect itself.
The rich get richer, the commander is always promoted.
And the American hoi palloi chant USA! USA! and scream that the government is evil even as they drape themselves in the stars and bars while falling into masturbatory raptures over the military.
I think I'll eat at McDonald's again, tonight..
---
Sunday, May 1, 2011
And the feelin' comin' from my bones says find a home..
I'm gonna fight 'em off,
A (seven) nation army couldn't hold me back.
They're gonna rip it off,
Taking their time right behind my back.
And I'm talkin' to myself at night,
Because I can't forget.
Back and forth through my mind
Behind a cigarette.
And the message coming from my eye
Says leave it alone.
Oh, leave it alone.
Leave it alone.
Uh huh.
Don't want to hear about it,
Every single one's got a story to tell..
Everyone knows about it,
From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell.
And if I catch ya comin' back my way,
I'm gonna serve it to you.
And that ain't what you want to hear,
But that's what I'll do.
And the feelin' comin' from my bones
Says find a home.
Yeah, find a home.
Umm, umm, find a home.
I'm goin' to Witchita,
Far from this opera forevermore.
I'm gonna work the straw,
Make the sweat drip out of every pore.
And I'm bleedin' and I'm bleeding and I'm bleedin'
Right b'fore the Lord.
An' all the words are gonna bleed from me
And I will sing no more.
And the stains comin' from my blood
Say go back home..
Oh go back..
Oh yeah go home..
Go back home.
---
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