The names in these pictures are children. They lived in Pakistan. They were killed by the United States. Unmanned aircraft routinely fly over Pakistan and kill people. There is no risk to any United States military personnel.
The background pictures are from a neighborhood fall festival. This is life in the United States. Some say that the children in Pakistan are killed to preserve this way of life. Kill them over there before they come kill us here.
Last year, a young man was killed in a Florida town. An enormous outcry was heard about this death. Pictures of the deceased were on every television set in America. Every one of the names in this feature is a young person, killed by an American citizen. Pictures of these children will not be seen on American television. If the POTUS had a son, he would not look like one of these children.
PG read East is East by T. Coraghessan Boyle. This is a 1990 copyright, and the author is now known as T.C. Boyle. Most people that know him say Tom. There are videos of him speaking, and some say how to pronounce his middle name.
EIS is a great story. A Japanese man is working on a boat, gets in trouble, and jumps off the boat. He swims to shore, and lands on a Georgia island. He has a series of adventures on the island, until he is captured by the authorities. Hiro, the Japanese man, escapes from confinement, and turns up in the Okefenokee Swamp. There is another improbable rescue, until he runs out of luck. He winds up in a hospital, with a lot of charges against him.
Numerous sub plots ensue. Some of the other people on the island are weirdos. The island is called Tupelo, and is apparently modeled on Sapelo. Hiro turns out to be a Japanese-American mix, with a baggage compartment full of issues. There are stereotypes galore, from the bungling federal agents, ditzy artists, angry blacks, and hungry insects.
Some english major has probably written a term paper criticizing the shortcomings of this book. That does not matter to PG. All he wants is a good story. EIE is a page turner. You want to get back to see what happens next. The improbable twists in the plot don’t matter after a while. EIE is a fun book. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
There was a book at the Chamblee Library, Mick: The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger. The work is credited to a man named Christopher Anderson, who has a slew of best sellers to his credit. The copyright was issued to “Anderson Productions.”
When you write about Mickie, you have to post a few videos. One of the first to come up is “Waiting on a friend.” This was the first video that PG saw on MTV. One night in early 1982, PG rode his bike to an apartment on Buford Hiway. While he was there, someone said hey watch this, music television. The video was a favorite that first winter of MTV, even though it wasn’t really that good.
Mick Jagger has been a part of many lives the last fifty years. The stones were conceded to be number two to the beatles, but stayed together longer. The era of rock concert as megaevent coincided with the reinvention of the stones, after the demise of Brian Jones. He did after all start the band. Mr. Jones had become too much of a druggie to be relied on, and was fired. The book says that Mr. Jones was drowned, by a construction worker.
Ok, we are three paragraphs in, and we have not discussed Mr. Jagger’s pecker. Most of the book is about this instrument of undetermined size. The book says Mick stuffed a sock in his pants before shows. Mick has screwed thousands of women, and more than a few men. Whether Mick is a top, or a bottom, is left to the imagination.
The phrase “fuck Mick Jagger” is seminal. One night, the B52s were playing at a toilet on Ponce De Leon Avenue called the Big Dipper. The venue was later torn down, the ground decontaminated, and an animal clinic built on it’s site. After the show, one of the girls (either Kate or Cindy, or maybe neither, since this story is possibly an urban legend) was hanging out in the parking lot. “Beulah” was running his mouth, as he liked to do, talking about his hero Mick Jagger. Finally, the B52girl had heard enough. “Fuck Mick Jagger, one day Mick Jagger will come see me.”
The book goes into excruciating detail about the stones story. Mick grew up middle class, and was close to his parents. He bit the end of his lip playing basketball, and sounded different. While going to the London School of Economics, he connected with Keith Richard, and found that they both liked Chuck Berry. The Glimmer Twins started to hang out together, and played a few gigs at a nightclub owned by Alexis Korner. (Mr. Korner opened for Humble Pie and Edgar Winter at the Atlanta Municipal Auditorium in 1972. He was ignored by the festive crowd.)
At this time, Mick had been introduced to sex by the other boys at his school. The first time with a woman was when Mick was an orderly at Bexley Mental Hospital. A nurse “yanked him into the linen closet where, surrounded by sheets, mops, and bedpans, Mick lost his virginity standing up”.
At some point Brian Jones came into the picture. Mick moved into a flat with Brian and Keith, and lived in picturesque squalor. At some point Mick and Brian bumped gooberheads, which left Mick confused. It is not known whether the lads could afford drugs at this point.
The story goes on and on. There are ugly moments, pretty moments, good songs written, lots of drugs, lots of sex. As Mick said in “Shattered,” “sex and sex and sex and sex and sex and sex and sex.” A few begin to wonder if he is capable of a one on one relationship, but those opinions don’t count.
One afternoon in 1978, PG was driving a truck in Decatur. He worked for a lady who did sampling projects, which means giving out samples to consumers. The product this time was Playtex Plus deodorant tampons. The truck was the rag wagon. There was an announcement on the last am rock and roll station in Atlanta. The stones were going to play the Fox Theater, and tickets were on sale now. The signal of the am station faded out at this point, with a gospel station preacher blocking out the rock and roll announcement. PG did not hear the location of the ticket sales. It turns out the tickets went on sale at the box office of the Municipal Auditorium, which was two blocks away from the rental facility of the rag wagon. Such is life.
In 1991, PG was walking to work and noticed an army of movie trucks. Mr. Jagger was appearing in a film, “Free Jack.” PG saw a scene filmed from his perch in the Healey Building, and stood behind a chair with the name “Mick Jagger” stenciled on. There were reports of a van rocking in Cabbagetown. On January 12, 1992, Georgia May Ayeesha Jagger was born.
Mick: The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger is not a bad book. It is easy to read, and does not skimp on slime. The phrase “cringe inducing” is used several times, which may be the result of a focus group. It is not worth $27.00, or $29.99 Canadian. The publisher is Simon&Schuster. The dalliance between Mr. Jagger and Carly Simon is dutifully noted.
Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This ia a repost.
John Booth was an actor, and firearm enthusiast. He was a ruthless critic of productions that did not include him. When something displeased Mr. Booth, it was necessary to let people know about it. Someone told the actor that boo was short for Booth. He believed this, and was forced to find other ways to express his displeasure. .
A play called “Our American Cousin” gave a performance in Washington DC in 1865. In act two of OAC, a lady called another lady “you sockdologizing old man-trap.” The crowd roared with laughter. Mr. Booth thought the line insipid, and looked for a way to express his anger.
When Mr. Booth was through with his commentary, he jumped out of the balcony. The riding spur on his boot caught a drape. Mr. Booth landed with all the weight on one leg. The leg was badly broken. It would have been less painful if Mr. Booth swallowed his pride, and said boo. Pictures for today’s entertainment are from The Library of Congress.
It was the last sunday in October. For party people, it is time to get the glitter out of your head before it corrodes the medulla oblongata. For sober PG, it was the last day of freedom before another job assignment. For Lou Reed, today did not happen.
There are many things you could say about Mr. Reed. At a key point in his solo career, he issued Metal Machine Music, ninety four minutes of unlistenable noise. There was a model, of uncertain gender, on the back of his first solo album. A banana, wrapped in aluminum foil, decorated a strategic location. The album gave the world “take a walk on the wild side”, “satellite of love”, and “perfect day”.
Heroin was a friend of Mr. Reed for a while. Did anyone decide to try smack after listening to that song? Who knows. It is not known what substances he was recreating with the last forty years.
After a while, Lou Reed got married to Laurie Anderson. They gave a concert for dogs.
The story is that Mr. Reed was tough to interview. Since he outlived Edie Sedgwick by forty two years, Mr. Reed figured he didn’t need to be nice. One journalist reports “Lou Reed … was the most terrifying rock star I have ever interviewed. Partly it was his look that was so unsettling: all those amphetamines in his rock n roll years had taken their toll. His sunken cheeks, intense staring eyes and perpetually macerating jaw gave him the look of a malevolent praying mantis in a poodle fright wig.”
On May Day 1993, PG was asked to sing at a beauty pageant. He chose “take a walk on the wild side”. There are fifteen rounds of doo doo repeated four times. These groups of eight doos were known as a crock. New York City was changed to Ponce De Leon. Elvis was the MC. Since PG has a loud voice, he got Elvis to turn the amplifier down to one before his song. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
In 1948, Allen Ginsberg was staying in Harlem. Things were not going well in his life. One night, he read “Ah, Sunflower,” by William Blake. He thought the voice of Mr. Blake was reading the poem for him. Later, something similar happened with “The Sick Rose.” Here is a tmi version of the story.
Sixty odd years later, PG is trying to recreate this incident. Instead of reading the work, PG is posting the lines at the feet of dogs. Instead of a Harlem building, with fancy brickwork, PG is in a Brookhaven house. The house was built in 1954. The sky above is the same, both for Harlem and Brookhaven.
Perhaps the strangest bit of synchronicity involves the first paragraph of this text. PG had finished with the meme poem. The third game of the world series was on the tv, seen on a mirror behind the monitor. As PG typed the words “The Sick Rose,” a St. Louis player hit a ground ball. The fielder threw the ball to home plate, and a runner was tagged out. The catcher threw the ball to third base, and the ball got behind the baseman. The runner started to run, and got tripped by the third baseman. Even though he was tagged by the catcher, the umpire ruled that his being tripped made him safe. Is this as weird as hearing the voice of a dead English poet in a Harlem apartment?
Mr. Blake liked to illustrate his own work. Here is what he did for “The Sick Rose.” Whether using dogs is an improvement is a matter for smart people to decide. The text of these poems is copied from the Gutenberg Project. They are happy to get donations.
The Library of Congress has some pictures from Baca County, Colorado. This is in the southeast corner of the state, bordering Oklahoma and Kansas. In the summer of 1936, a drought committee had a meeting in the county seat, Springfield.
Seventy two years later, an actress playing Sarah Palin said “I can see Russia from my back porch.” In all fairness, the politician never said that. The buzz about this joke led this blog to do a bit of research.
Alaska and Russia are less than 3 miles apart at their closest point in the Bering Strait where two islands, Russia’s Big Diomede Island and Alaska’s Little Diomede Island, are located. In winter it is possible to walk across the frozen Bering Strait border between these two islands. … Alaska is a big place. It has ten times the land mass of Georgia, with less population than Gwinnett County. There is a town on Little Diomede Island called Diomede. It checks in at 65°N 168°W. (For our purposes today, we are going to ignore minutes and seconds) The town of Wasilla is the home of Sarah Palin. It can be found at 61°N 149°W . Diomede is four degrees north of Wasilla, and Nineteen degrees west.
Lets put this in local terms. Atlanta is 33°N 84°W . According to the atlas, 37°N 103°W is the point where New Mexico, Colorado, and Oklahoma come together. This is Baca County. It is as far from Atlanta as Wasilla, Alaska, is from Russia. You cannot see Colorado from your back porch.
It had been a week since PG drove past the church sign at Briarcliff United Methodist Church. The church sent a thoughtful email, in response to the complaining message. The traffic on Briarcliff Road was just as rude as ever. PG took a look when he drove past the church. The new message this week: “In what missions did U last serve?“
Maybe they didn’t have a YO to spare. Maybe they are trying to appeal to the text message crowd. Maybe the comment was directed at nearby Mercer University. Maybe a Synagogue borrowed an OY.
When the Jesus worship church talks about missions, they usually mean an effort to convert people to their brand of religion. This is a part of Christianism that many find tasteless. This product promotion frequently turns into a violation of the third commandment… the injunction against improper use of a sacred name. When you create ill will, you are speaking in vain.
When PG got home, he decided to create a meme poem. He also did not feel moved to write fresh text. A decision was made to use already created material, out of the public domain. A search of the book of Psalms located a short chapter, with a number that is popular at this blog. Hence, the current presentation of Psalm 54.
While this effort was in production, PG thought about the mission he was on. The idea was to rescue this text from the improper way in which it is used. It should be a source of beauty, not a weapon to bludgeon people into agreement. Psalm 54 is a poem, written by a human being, not a message from G-d. When you make a G-d out of a book, you do no favor to either the G-d, or the book.
In the end, the effort had mixed results. The text has an air of vengeance. G-d was supposed to get even with your enemies. The idea that your enemies might be the children of G-d is forgotten.
Pictures are from The Library of Congress. These are Union soldiers from the War Between the States. They served on a tough mission.
The current WTF Podcast features Moon Zappa. At no time does she say grody, gag me with a spoon, or boofoos. Today, she is the divorced mother of an eight year old, and buys quality apple butter.
Moon is the daughter of the late Frank Zappa. FZ did not do drugs, smoked Winston cigarettes, and spent all his time working on music. The four children, Moon Unit, Dweezil, Ahmet and Diva, called the parents Frank and Gail. Mrs. Zappa stays busy these days selling her husbands music.
Once, Moon broke a finger in school. She called Gail, and waited. Eventually, the family Rolls Royce pulled up. Gail was driving, with Frank in the passenger seat. Frank quit driving when his first drivers license expired. Before taking Moon to the ER, they stopped to get Frank a burrito.
Gail and Moon were walking to the store one day, when Moon was very little. A car stopped, and tried to pick up Gail. Moon screamed “Fuck off pervert.”
Captain Beefheart was at the Zappa house one time. He had made a hole in the side of his nose with a pencil. When a finger was put over the other nostril, the nose became a whistle.
While listening to this show, PG was editing pictures from The Library of Congress. Some of these images appear with this feature.
Gregg Allman appeared on Live Talks LA, selling a book, My Cross to Bear. Yes, he was coherent. Mr.Allman says something about going through rehab seventeen times. No one argues disputes that he has had an interesting life.
The chat has a few parts left out. Dicky Betts and Cher are not mentioned. The title of “strangest dude I ever met” goes to Jai Johanny “Jaimoe” Johanson, aka the black guy in the group. Gregg says he used to listen to stuff by Roland Kirk.
The story of Duane Allman learning to play slide guitar is good. Duane was sick. Gregg came to see his brother, who was playing the guitar in a new way. It seems the doctor had given him some pills called Coricidin. You take the pills out of the glass bottle, soak the label off, and you have a guitar slider.
When PG was a kid, his uncle was a representative for the company that sold Coriciden. There were boxes of samples in the house, which all came in the glass bottle. PG had not heard that name for forty eight years. The spell check suggestion is Coincidence.
Not everyone at amazon was impressed by the book. “the book was so damged the binding and jacket were ripped that a did not read the book and will not buy an more nick malick.”
The visual multitasking element for this repost was pictures from The Library of Congress. There are two group shots, broken down into smaller images. One is a graduating class of a nursing school at Georgetown University. The photographer lists the date as between 1905 and 1945.
The other image is a line of people waiting to vote. The well dressed citizens are in Clarenden VA. The date is November 4, 1924. Several carry signs for the democratic presidential candidate, John W. Davis. He was nominated on the 103rd ballot of the democratic convention, and lost to Calvin Coolidge.