april

NOTES FROM SRI LANKA.

(April '00)

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4/2/2000

Welcome back to...wherever this is.

What's happening? The usual. A couple of sessions this week, one with Matt, one with John (more or less). No plenary sessions, but hey...we're just getting our sea-legs here. These things take time, you know. Christ. Climb off my back, hey willya?

Sorry. Lost my head. Where were we? Oh, yes. We've got all of our instruments (those instruments!) stuffed into the basement of my stucco lean-to. I've run an extension cord down from the solar-powered siege pump working in the irrigation ditch just behind my patch of land. I had to drape the cord over my neighbor's jitney, but that shouldn't be a problem right away. If we hear the engine start at some point, I'll just send Matt over with a roll of duct tape so he can fasten the sucker down. No problem.

Once we get the power cranking down there, we start running through whatever it is we've got on our song list. Copies of this cryptic document have been circulated across the length and breadth of the internet in recent weeks; blurry scans of crumpled pages onto which intriguing titles like "Andromeda," "Hey Caveman," and "Good Ol' Boys Roundup" have been scrawled in a jagged hand. Some are identified simply by numbers or symbols derived from our peculiar experience with secondary education. (More on this later...)

How's it sound? Hey...just wait 'n see. Or wait 'n hear, depending on how your sensory organs are hooked up.

What else is happening? Well, according to our local Gannett newspaper, there's a stunning "Rebirth" taking place in Rome, NY, at the Griffiss Business and Technology Park (site of last year's iteration of Woodstock). Amid all the articles about the former air base beginning to "bloom anew" with corporate tenants (helped along by generous incentive packages from Federal, State, and local governments) there is a piece about "Rome's neediest" and how they "lack [the] required skills" to participate in this great renaissance. The fact is, since welfare "reform" kicked in, food and shelter requests at Rome's Salvation Army facility have more than doubled between 1996 and 1999. And at the Welcome Hall Community Center soup kitchen (pictured above), they served five times as many meals in 1999 as they did in 1993.

Coincidence? I think not. Though no one has seen fit to determine what has happened to all of these families who occasionally used the welfare system to make ends meet, it seems likely that more than a few of them are having trouble. But it's not all bad news -- the local officials in the surrounding articles about the Griffiss boom look very well fed indeed, for one thing. And I'm sure Griffiss tenants like Global Aviation Services LLC can sit back and belch after scarfing down that $3 million incentive package taxpayers provided to help taxi them in for a landing.

Who says welfare is dead?

More later,

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4/9/2000

Greetings.

It's snowing here in Ceylon. The tea fields are covered with a thick white blanket of the stuff. So much for this year's crop. I was going to shake John out of hibernation this week, but I think I'll wait a bit longer.

Most of our listeners in the United States and Europe don't realize that the seasonal calendar is completely different down here. Whereas in North America it is now April, here at the southern tip of the subcontinent it's October. (In fact, while many US Christians are preparing for their Easter festivities, we're getting ready to celebrate hollowe'en.) The disparity between seasons becomes even more extreme as you move closer to the poles. It's almost Christmas in Melbourne, for example (see photo). Go north of here a few hundred miles, and you're in the dog days of July. Little known fact.

So, why such a strange distortion of time and space? Simple. The earth (or "oit" as it is commonly pronounced) is surrounded by a complex system of magnetic fields. Set against one another, their energy is sufficient to cause the southern half of the globe to rotate in one direction, and the northern half in the other. So we're going counter-clockwise to your clockwise. The closer you get to the poles, the shorter the rotational trip. That's why canned soup takes so much longer to heat in the tropics. It's a matter of geo-magnetic ultra-dynamics (my favorite of studies).

So anyway...what's up with Big Green these days? Rehearsals. Composing. Equipment overhauls. Got a massive hum in our recording console that I haven't tracked down yet. Either got to get that fixed or write a choral humming section into every song. Haven't decided which. Preferences, anyone? Write me at jperry@biggreenhits.com and let me know what they are.

I see where the NYPD shot a couple of "gang members" in Brooklyn. Crime: robbing an undercover cop with a plastic gun. Punishment: death. 18 shots fired, two dead -- 17-year-old Andre Fields and 19-year-old Tysheen Bourne, both African-American. NYPD Assistant Chief Joe Esposito (not African-American) said that the two (along with 3 other "gang members") were "out to rob someone" and "They had the misfortune of picking out two of our undercovers." Misfortune, indeed.

It's interesting that the undercover anti-drug operation these officers were involved in is named "Operation Condor." That was the name given to the terror cooperative set up in the 1970's by several U.S-supported South American dictatorships and their intelligence agencies. The Chilean-led Operation Condor was responsible for many deaths and disappearances, including the 1976 car-bombing that killed exiled Chilean Foreign Minister Orlando Letelier (and an American companion) on Embassy Row in Washington DC.

Perhaps Giuliani's PR hacks should get on top of that one, maybe change the name of their "anti-drug operation" to something more historically benign, like the "Final Solution," perhaps. I'm sure they can think of something.

Keep your heads down, brothers and sisters. Right down.

luv u,

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4/16/2000

Another day older and deeper in debt....

Yeah, I had a birthday this week, and it made me think about my role in the history of pop music. What, with all these 3-hour television retrospectives about this genre we inhabit (or on whose outskirts we've hastily constructed a shanty), it seems only appropriate that I should apply a little spin to Big Green's myth. Bring us into the mainstream, as it were. Ride the prevailing currents of rock, if you will, instead of bobbing about in that isolated puddle to which we've been confined all these centuries.

So enough of this obscurity. Enough! I've decided to go the Jim Morrison route. You know -- the mythical Jim Morrison; psycho self-destructive self-aggrandizement. True, none of us in Big Green have the, well, equipment to be sex symbols like big Jim (except John, of course...He is muy caliente). But fulfilling the suicidal portion of the myth is simply a matter of procuring the right accessories. So when you see us in future, I'll be the one with the ceremonial bottle of Jack Daniels strapped to my left hand. (I've also taken the nose ring out and pulled the tie-back out of my fright wig.) Our glorious destiny's assured.

So, anyone get to Washinton this week for the a16 reprise to last November's Seattle protests? I noticed my local paper was assiduously avoiding mention of the massive anti-WTO demonstrations now underway (the Elian Gonzales extravaganza was particularly availing, soaking up scores of column inches, as always), aside from a bottom-of-page-6 mention of hundreds of protesters being arrested. If you're interested in details of what's going on, check out www.a16.org , the site established by organizers from the Student Alliance To Reform Corporations. The site contains downloadable banners, instruction on how to handle tear-gas attacks, and more. STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE!

Whoa. Flashback. There are some exciting things going on these days; some people actually sticking their necks out for positive change. It's almost like the old days, no?

NYPD Weekly Scoreboard: One dead, one missing (presumed guilty). Apparently an off-duty NYPD cop, picking up a little extra cash as a security guard at Jimmy Jazz in Brooklyn, had a confrontation with a couple of suspected shoplifters which ended in one of the suspects shot to death. The cop said the dead man produced a gun, "gunfire was exchanged," and an NYPD bullet went through the man's chest. The other suspect escaped, reportedly (conveniently) taking the dead man's "gun" with him. A store employee was wounded, but according to the AP, it wasn't clear by whom.

Oh well...look at the bright side. At least Jimmy Jazz won't have to take the hit for a missing shirt or two. Right? Let's have some perspective, here. It reminds me of when, on The Big Valley, Nick Barkley (who had recently been bitten by a rabid coyote) was walking his girlfriend home and two outlaws told him to hand over the big wad o' money he'd been flashing around town earlier in the episode. Nick,. of course, elected to have a shoot-out over it, which left the outlaws -- and Nick's girlfriend -- dead. But (and this is important!) he didn't have to hand over that money, which was rightfully his!

We can all learn a little something from Nick's experience. (Hey...find the real Nick Barkley and ask him what that something might be. Then send it on to Howard Safir and Rudy, so they can use it in their next press release.)

Later. I've got some serious drinking to do. (Don't try to talk me out of it...)

luv,

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4/23/2000

May you partake of the vernal blessings of the Earth Mother Goddess on this day of rebirth (in the northern hemisphere, at least -- see last week's column for details...)

Do I feel reborn? Well...if death warmed over may be so characterized. Funny how the nights seem longer when they're actually getting shorter. Maybe it's the constant cloud cover here in Sri Lanka...maybe the filtered sunlight deprives the eye and deceives the brain. Maybe it's the middle of the night, and I'm just too farshimmelt to realize it.

Many (meaning more than one) have asked me, why choose Sri Lanka for your virtual headquarters? Is there some political or spiritual significance to this selection? The answer is a simple one. No. It's the "Car Talk Plaza" principle, the one that practically all "e-commerce" is based upon -- projecting the image of mega-corporate facilities in exotic locations when, in fact, you're really just a dog tapping on a computer in an abandoned garage. Not that that's what I am...or we are, I mean. The dog part, anyway.

How's the next Big Green project going? Well, we're gradually narrowing down the song list. It's only about four inches wide now, down from twelve inches in January -- now, that's progress! I did some scratch tracks on the dusty old DA-88 yesterday, just to see if it would yak the same thing back at me. It did. That's a good sign, too. Sessions should be starting soon, so hang in there, world...you won't need to wait much longer.

Testing. Testing. (tap-tap-tap) Is this thing on?

Moral High Ground. There was a march in New York last week demanding Giuliani's resignation over the Diallo shooting, among other crimes. But mention of this was slight here in our hometown news, what with the Elian Gonzales thingy still dominating the national pages. Rudy Giuliani was quick to jump on the INS for taking the kid at gunpoint, calling them "stormtroopers." I'm sure we can look forward to more sincere expressions of angst over extreme police tactics from others who have been instrumental in militarizing law enforcement weapons and tactics. Perhaps Janet Reno should send her INS shock troops up to Rudy's place for sensitivity training.

Battering rams? Assault rifles? Wow...you'd think they were running a low-watt radio station in there. Good thing nobody pulled a wallet on them.

Taking a kid at the point of an assault rifle is something the Feds are getting pretty good at under Clinton. It's nothing new. I'm sure it happens to dozens of kids with names like Gonzales every week along the Mexican border. But since they are refugees from a nation fully in line with the Washington-led neoliberal economic order, you'll never hear about them. Just as you'll never hear about the thousands of kids we're helping to kill and displace in Colombia, whose government receives more funding and weaponry from us than any other in the world, save two (Egypt and Israel). For more on this, got to the Colombia Support Network website.

Plenty of shame to go around on this one. Nuff said.

a16 Protests. Some pretty impressive stuff last weekend. Take a look at www.a16.org for a wrap up and some eyewitness accounts of what took place. With the preponderance of PR hacks out there giving the various media summaries the right spin on what took place, it helps to check with someone who was actually there.

Roll that egg up hill. c.u.

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4/30/2000

Where am I?

Oh, yes. The Green Stamp redemption center. It's all coming back to me now. I'll take the miniature hall of presidents, please. And another executive desk set. Life is good!

You may be wondering whether our collective identity "Big Green" is in some way associated with S&H Green Stamps -- the universal currency of my youth -- or if we are in some manner affiliated with that long-forgotten enterprise, whose passing from the American commercial landscape took place years before many of you were born. (Nonetheless, you may be wondering...)

The fact is, Green Stamps loom large in my personal memory and have, in fact, played a major role in the development of our identity over the decades. Nothing less than an alternative currency, these sticky little squares of unearned lucre comprised the very caramel center of what it meant to be a white suburbanite in the 1960's, as I recall the phenomenon. My parents would bring strings of Green Stamps (and Plaid Stamps, as well) home from the grocery store; I can recall joyful hours of pasting the little suckers into those redemption books. Then mom would take the books somewhere and come back with a sauté pan, or an executive desk set, or...another executive desk set.

Okay, so did we name our band in honor of Green Stamps? There can only be one answer to this: of course not! But that doesn't mean they didn't have a lasting influence on our lives and our music. So to demonstrate how much Green Stamps mean to all of us here in Sri Lanka, I'm making this special offer to you. The first 10 people who send a full book of genuine S&H Green Stamps to this address:

Big Green 16 Talcott Road, Utica, NY 13502-6110

...will get a (1) copy of our CD 2000 Years To Christmas absolutely free. Nolo obligationario. That's the beauty of Green Stamps. Somethin' for nothin'. Keep your filthy money. Give me redemption.

Okay, so if we didn't name our band after Green Stamps (and it has nothing to do with some freaking college football team), where did we get the name? You can read all about it in our illustrated autobiographical narrative, available right here at BigGreenHits.com Or, if you want the real truth, write me at jperry@biggreenhits.com or my illustrious brother at mperry@biggreenhits.com and we'll "'splain you," as the saying goes.

Hippy Anniversary. Well, it's 25 years since the end of the Vietnam War and the morning's newspapers are filled with retrospective nonsense about what it was all about and what it means to us and what we think about it, etc. My hometown journal was filled with the usual assortment of semi-psychotic personal recollections and fractured histories. It's pretty much undisputed media "fact" (i.e. recurrent myth in Vietnam retrospectives) that returning soldiers were universally despised and spat upon by war protesters. Did it happen? Undoubtedly. But it was never done by any of the anti-war activists I ever knew, most of whom had friends, relatives, etc. in Vietnam or were, in fact, Viet Vets themselves. Central to their concerns was getting soldiers home alive, as well as stopping what was nothing less than a major international crime being perpetrated against a third world country.

Many of those who were particularly hateful towards returning Viet Vets were the rabid supporters of the war effort, who felt that American soldiers in Vietnam were disgracing them by not delivering a decisive victory over what they considered a sub-human foe. I think war protesters have consistently been framed in the press on this particular issue -- part of a more general effort to discredit their positions, influence, and actions over the years since the war's end. The fact remains that some of the most committed, principled opponents of the war were people in Vietnam Veterans Against The War/Winter Soldier Organization -- vets who had been through the meat grinder and who knew, first hand, that this war was wrong. If those guys were spat on, it wasn't by any true opponents of the war.

Divide and conquer; that's what works. Get vets and ex-protesters to hate one another. Get our working class kids to go halfway around the world and shoot their working class kids...and get shot in the process. I keep hoping we'll get to the point where we won't let ourselves be manipulated by the mega-commercial powers that think they own our ass. Because as long as we do...they will.

Peace. (and hippy love.)

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