Category Archives: Music

“Thoughts and Prayers”: I love this song. Don’t misuse it.

This is a wonderful, humane, sorrowful song. I love it so much. And I get angry as hell when I see you misconstrue it:

A lot of you don’t seem to understand who this line is directed to:

Stick it up your ass with your useless thoughts and prayers

So let me break it down for you:

It is aimed at the politician who offers thoughts and prayers because he plans to do nothing more. It is not aimed at the victim’s mother who is trying to live through another minute any way she can.

It is aimed at Karen from Corporate HR peddling BS when you know the job killed your co-worker. It is not aimed at the guy next to you in the meeting who found the note and still can’t sleep.

In short: It is aimed at the guilty. It is not aimed at the innocent.

One of my oldest friends in the world spent over thirty years in the Park Service. He’s jumped into deathtraps more times than I’ve skinned my knee–and I’m a clumsy SOB! Whenever I heard about a fire in the West, he was on my mind, all the time. He sure had my thoughts, and if I were the praying kind, he’d’ve had my prayers. Because I cared about him. Thoughts and prayers that express care are Good.

For those who offer thoughts and prayers instead of caring? Because they don’t care? Let’s sharpen their thoughts and prayers up real good so they stick real well.

No One Trusts A Flincher To Hold Steady

The slogan people fought for in the streets is DEFUND THE POLICE whether you like it or not.

If your first act on hearing that is to flinch, your question should be, “Who taught me to flinch, and why?”

Your hands should hold steady when you are slapped, or who would trust your judgement in a fight?

History’s a slap on the side of the road as people pick and choose monuments to topple to the valley below.

If you say “My goodness!” before the trouble starts, you water down what people die for in their hearts.

If you can’t stand by the slogan DEFUND THE POLICE, don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me.

Defund The Police, Gwen Stacy!

O sweet Gwen! Save yourself while there's still time!

Defund The Police! Does that slogan scare you? Maybe it should.

As Bob Dylan sings, “You’d better start swimming or get thrown like a stone.”

Maybe that’s a judgement on you.

A huge grassroots movement has put forward the demand Defund The Police. It’s put that slogan on the lips of every American.

If the leadership of the right had been given a gift like that, they’d hammer you every day with Defund The Police! Defund the Police! Why? Because they want to win. They know better than to stand in the way of, oh, the Tea Party. They co-opted them instead. They took the forms of their demands, their slogans, and used them to get some–not all–of what they all wanted. And they won.

So just this once, can we try not backing down in advance because the mean people will say the mean things? Can we defend our leaders who are in the streets fighting for us, instead of worrying about whether Chuck Schumer (D-Wall Street) can beg enough McNuggets of funding from fat rich fucks?

Because let me tell you: Those of you quibbling about the slogan are not leading. Neither are those quibbling at the top. Not any more.

If you’d been paying attention, you’d know Defund The Police is the compromise. The true demands of the heart? More like Fuck The Police! and Chinga La Migra! I don’t know how anyone who noticed that four policemen slowly murdered a man in a public display of terror can ever have hummed along with “I Shot The Sheriff” or “Murder In My Heart For The Judge” and not feel that too.

As Mary Jane Watson told Peter Parker, “Face it, tiger–you’ve hit the jackpot!” And we have. Just look at Generation Lockdown out in the streets. They’ve been told in every possible way their lives are disposable commodities. We can’t be bothered to keep them from being mass murdered other than by traumatizing them with fake mass murder drills. We can’t worry about them getting bullied in school or ending up on the street because their parents don’t care. We sign them up for a life of debt to get a degree that has become more a job license than an education, and tell them with a straight face that debt is for their own good. We watch as those younger than ourselves fail to thrive in the environment we created for them, and blame them for it.

Now they are doing something about it. They are doing something you didn’t. Whether you couldn’t or wouldn’t or whatever doesn’t really matter now. It’s being done.

The thing is, Mary Jane Watson has done shown up, and she is rocking our world. She’s a red-headed girl who burned a police car in New York City who’ll end up in prison for it.

And right now, as you stand by and dither as she sits in jail, wondering what you are going to do about what she fights for, you have chosen to be Gwen Stacy. Your father, the kind police commissioner, is already dead, and you are the sweet, doomed past.

It’s not a perfect metaphor. It’s not a perfect world, either, so that seems fitting.

Which one matters more? Which one will you do something about?

Devils, Satans, and Lucifers whose reality Unitarian Universalists must acknowledge

  1. I have met this Devil, many times. The song remains the same:
  2. Satan introduces the worship of crosses and crucifixion through empire:
  3. Lucifer arrives via an unintentional blood sacrifice and does a little good at an unconscionable cost:
  4. The Devil anticipates Stephen Strange telling Victor Von Doom, “I think you should be afraid, old friend.” Kind of:
  5. Constantine teaches the Devil’s Disciples to hide behind desks in gaudy uniforms and click down the halls of power in pantsuit and heels:
  6. Even when the Devil is dogging you down into the grave, he is still no more than a man, and you can still get your licks in on him while you go, even if all you can do is call attention to you as you are drowning, not waving, but drowning with a knee on your throat:

I know there’s more. This is what I have right now. If you have one, lay it on me!

Sermon or Song? Kesha’s “Here Comes The Change”

In a sexist world, a woman who attempts an equal partnership with a man is likely to be shortchanged. Even a strong woman. Even a feminist woman. It can be done, but the odds are against her.

Ruth Bader Ginsberg, like Nancy Pelosi, like Liz Warren, chose to partner with good men who put her career first. They were lucky to make a good choice young.

Kesha, like Tammy Wynette, like Tina Turner, chained young to shitty men who put her career last, chose to break those chains at great personal and artistic cost, for greater personal and artistic freedom.

So ends the lesson of today’s Sermon or Song?

Donald Trump Understands The Constitution. The 9/11 Killers Understood Airport Security.

It’s really this simple:

Building on fire

If you have a can of gasoline, you understand architecture just fine.

If you have an atomic bomb and the plane to carry it in, you understand Hiroshima well enough.

If you can aim a gun, you understand human anatomy splendidly. And if you aren’t any good with a pistol, there’s always a shotgun.

Complaining about Donald Trump being stupid and ignorant while he’s kicking your ass shows he understands playground rules better than you do. Who do you think is going to save you from the bully if there is no teacher on the scene?

I don’t care for horror movies. I don’t watch them. But I read about everything, and I know they teach this lesson:

When the call is coming from inside the house, no one can save you but yourself.

Don’t take that too literally. Horror movies set it up so that the heroine–that’s you, in the current horror show–are stripped of your friends, your family, all the cloud of support around you. That’s how moral fiction works, stripped to the essentials to teach a lesson.

In This Real Life? You have friends. You have family. You have the kindness of strangers. You have human solidarity, one of the three foundations of my own spirituality.  Thanks to all that, you have agency and power. You’d best use them.

Or lose them. It’s up to you. It’s always been you, my love.

Keep On Moving Forward

There are two separate steps in what we call “impeachment”.

The first is impeachment. It’s carried out by the House. That’s the investigation, the preparation of a case. It’s like a grand jury, where evidence is presented and an indictment can be issued. It doesn’t have to rise to the standards of a criminal trial. Since the last House abandoned its oversight duties, the onslaught of oversight requests are the beginnings of that process. Whether there’s a formal impeachment at the end of it, we’re having that now.

Bill Clinton, Richard Nixon, and Andrew Johnson were all impeached, and rightfully so. Nixon committed actual crimes; Clinton creepily perjured himself; Johnson helped the South regain what it had rightfully lost. All of them committed grave irresponsibilities while in office. There’s no doubt in my mind Donald Trump’s misdeeds rise to that standard. His venality combines the criminality of Nixon, the faithlessness of Clinton, and the disloyalty of of Johnson.

I expect Trump will be impeached, just as those three were.

The impeachment itself is a significant punishment. It has stained all three men’s reputations, not from the vote to impeach, but from the public exposure of their unfitness to hold office. It ended Nixon’s political career. It should have ended Clinton’s–the party should have demanded his resignation once the process was over, so Al Gore could have run as an incumbent, unchained from a shitty man–and it did damage him. Johnson was already weakened.

The second step is trial. It’s carried out by the Senate. No president has ever been convicted by the Senate. Neither will Trump be, barring some smoking gun we don’t know about. He’s obscured the record by obstructing justice.

Nixon deserved conviction. He only avoided it by resignation. Clinton didn’t. His shittiness was revealed to be ugly but truly small, like him. Johnson…I have no strong opinion about what fate he deserved. His misdeeds were purely political.

But that process of trial in the Senate, that is important, not least because it focuses national attention on a process more easily understood than investigation. It allows the facts to be laid out, much like a trial, for judgement.

I’ll follow Pelosi’s lead on whether to impeach. She’s a fighter who’s been Trump’s most effective political opponent.

Till then, keep on moving forward. Forward with investigation. Forward with the next election. Forward with building a fighting Party that doesn’t roll over and pee itself when threatened. Forward with popular mobilization to ensure that.

Keep on moving forward.

A Meditation On A Ritual: Concert Wristbands

I got asked a question today in the form of a statement: “Tell me about a favourite ritual”. I was just going to write a sentence, but I kept adding comments. Here’s what I finally said:

After a great rock show or other event, I keep the wristbands on till they fall off.

We have Drive-By Truckers Homecoming at the 40 Watt, where the coat checkers write the number of your item on your wristband with a Sharpie. I play with the numbers, whether they’re in order, whether the order is rising or falling, how they factor, what they might signify. This year, I got:

  • 168–the hours in a week
  • 93–the passengers who fought back
  • 111–a sixth of the way there

It also lets me have some idea where I was in line each time. 😉

In the days after that in particular, I play with the wristbands, stacking them on my wrist, in date order sometimes, but really in whatever order they fit my arm best, the largest furthest up, each other slid under the next largest, a little showing of each.

They’d last longer if I didn’t, but then, so would I.

The Hermit of Walden Pond Meets the Sage of Tuscumbia, Alabama

This morning in church, the responsive reading from Singing the Living Tradition was #660–just six short!–“Why should we live in such a hurry and waste of life?” from Henry David Thoreau. I do and did respond.

The call: “I do not wish to live what is not life, living is so dear,”

The response: “Nor do I wish to practice resignation, unless it is quite necessary.”