NOTES FROM SRI LANKA.
(July '00)
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7/2/2000
Welcome. Set a spell.
As Independence Day (U.S.) looms menacingly, the saga of Big Green's virtual stardom continues unrelenting; an ancient mariner's rhyme, composed from cut packing bales, rusted grease fittings, and dry, staccato oaths muttered to a stranger. I shuffle from server to server the world over, delivering the same tattered tale to anyone who will listen. Avast. The Albatross. Cork the bottle and throw 'er overboard. We're goin' down!
Arrrrrrrrrh.
How's work proceeding on our sophomore release? Glad you asked. We're getting closer to a final songlist. I'm still doing song demos. Next comes the time capsule. We're planning on putting all of our rehearsal and album prep materials in a time capsule and burying them beneath the parade marshalling grounds just behind our lean-to outside Colombo. Call it an investment. If we get hugely valuable, famous, etc. over the next twenty years, that stuff will go for a bundle at auction. If we're still loveably obscure at that point, the last thing we'll want to see is all that rehearsal paraphernalia lying about. So before we even start recording, we'll bury the lot, all the scores, the recordings, John's xylophone, my woodblock...everything. Pretty smart, huh?
I
know what you're thinking. "People will dig it up," right? Not a
chance. We picked the perfect spot. Constant activity. There's always somebody
out there, doing some kind of drum and bugle muster, stomping around like a
bunch of antelopes. Why, just the other day, members of the former Soviet Army
(now in exile) were practicing one of their collectivist sporting exercises -- a
kind of human pyramid they put on every year for the Scholastic Book Services.
This year's iteration (see photo) is to be included in the upcoming 1962 edition
of What You Should Know About Communism and Why. Note that the
Soviet veterans in this picture have literally lost the shirts off their backs
in the process of emigration, and are forced (still!) to stand in formation,
holding up 40-lb cartons of marzipan while gymnasts cavort shamelessly above
them. I think this says a little something about the communist
system...something we should all remember and repeat to ourselves in our sleep
and compose overtures for all-kazoo orchestras about.
Anyway, the parade ground gets a lot of use. So our time capsule should get tamped down real good. So it should be hard to dig up. Good idea, huh?
In
the meantime, we're trying to keep up to date with our technology. Not so much
where recording is concerned. (We're still working with an eight-track machine.
Those cartridges are getting hard to come by.) More to do with breathing
apparatus, propulsion systems, artificial gravity. I mean, if they ever ask us
to do those gigs on Pluto, we wouldn't want the same disaster to strike us
again. You know...the big ba-boom. Nasty.
Right-To-Get-A-Life. A couple of columns ago, I included an excerpt from a letter to the editor written by Oneida County Right-To-Life Chairman Don Thomas, equating birth control with abortion with murder. The entire letter is now available for your reading pleasure. Give it a read. And next time someone talks to you about compassionate conservatism, read it again. And again.
Deconstructing Diallo. Forensic scientist Herbert L. MacDonnell has presented evidence that Amadou Diallo was not "moving menacingly toward police" while they showered him with bullets. Contrary to the (successful) defense findings during the trial of Diallo's killers, MacDonnell's research shows that Diallo was turning away as the bullets struck. Surprised? How menacing can he have seemed, unarmed, taking such an enormous amount of fire? Were we to believe that, as the bullets flew, he was advancing on the Too Blue Crew, Marcel Marceau-like, as if buffeted only by the winds of his imagination?
Whatever. Keep your wallets out of sight. That's my advice.
jp
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7/9/2000
A big hound-dog howdy to you all.
There's a patented cartoon greeting for you. I would say which cartoon, but if I did, some large, multi-tentacled media corporation would probably sue the carbuncles off my sorry ass. (And here's a big hound-dog lawsuit for you, Mr. Perry. Copyright is king...and don't yew for-git it!) If you remember which cartoon character, send a surreptitious email to me at jperry@biggreenhits.com
What's new in the land of bilk and money? Not much in the last 508 years. Still laboring under our slightly modified version of indentured servitude. Or slavery, depending upon your ancestry. The chief difference? You're responsible for your own room and board. That's called "individual rights" here in the enlightened west. You non-westerners should take notes. Start writing.
Okay. That's enough. Pencils down.
And
in Sri Lanka? Things are popping at the old lean-to. Matt dropped in last week
to start work on some preliminary recordings of his estimated 47 new songs (only
a slight exaggeration). We had a jam session at a local pub (which shall remain
nameless, in deference to the bartender) and sFshzenKlyrn,
our ad hoc guitarist from Zenon, dropped in to help us bring it on home (for the
full story on him, see our interplanetary tour diary,
or recent back pages of this column). As you
can see from this action-packed photo, our grandstanding Zenite friend still
bears the triumphant glow of his recent barnburning appearances at the Hanford
Nuclear Reservation. It was the kind of performance that makes your hair fall
out. In bunches.
sFshzenKlyrn had some interesting stories to tell of his recent experiences in his home galaxy. In spite of all the bumps we had along the interplanetary road during our recent tour, we were all glad to do some catching up. Though our local pub will never be the same. In fact, the Sri Lankan Defense Ministry is thinking about having it encased in concrete and lowered down a mineshaft. (That's going to make our occasional Friday night jam sessions a bit more of a challenge, I can tell you.)
In any case, I can tell you that recording has actually commenced on our next CD. High time, too.
On
The Defense. Speaking of Defense Ministries and encasing things in concrete,
it looks as though the U.S. "National Missile Defense" (a.k.a.
National Defense Contractor Welfare) project has hit another nasty bump. Seems
we've failed another ludicrously rigged demonstration of the systems amazing
non-capabilities. Listening to NPR news the day of the test, one could hear the
frantic scurrying of PR consultants and Pentagon apologists, spinning the test
as "hitting a bullet with a bullet," lowering expectations, while the
suggestion was made that the decision to deploy may, in part, hinge on the
test's success. The next day, after its failure, NPR duly reported that
morning's spin digest -- that the failure may "delay" deployment. Now
not a question of "if" so much as "when."
Never
mind that deployment undermines existing arms control agreements (SALT I, for
instance) and sabotages future ones. Never mind that the policy relies on such
non-credible threats as North Korea (even more ludicrous than before, in light
of their recent rapprochement with Seoul). Never mind the fact that, even if the
system did what they claim, it might only work against a certain class of
weapons, launched by nations somehow strangely committed to their own annihilation
by our still-bristling nuclear and non-nuclear arsenals. Forget
"defense." Hey...we're talking billions here, billions.
Think Zero Mostel in The Producers when he's realizing how much his
"Springtime for Hitler" scam is going to rake in, and you'll have some
idea of what's going on in the boardrooms of Lockheed Martin and other
contractors right now...."OHHH! I WANT THAT MONEY!!"
Is that enough for big Bill Clint-stone to agree to deployment? Betcha by-golly wow. And in the unlikely event he decides it's not a going thing right now (which would mean a slight reduction in budget, at most), I can think of two other reasons why we'll be buying this massively expensive, dangerously provocative weapons system in the years to come.
Here's
one.
And
here's the other....
Lookout below.
jp
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7/16/2000
Good morning, Lahore.
Why, you ask? We've had some visitors from Pakistan recently at BigGreenHits.com, not to mention a few from Austria, Belgium, Japan, Mississippi, and all those other countries. I would have opened with another major studio cartoon character greeting, but I don't want to push the cultural hegemony thing too far.
In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to everyone in the above mentioned lands -- as well as to the thousands surfing in from the "third world" -- for all this cheap plastic American consumer culture that keeps getting pumped into your from all sides. Believe me, I sympathize. They try all this stuff out on us first, you know. And while I'm at it, sorry for the international arms race, sorry for cold war atrocities in many lands, sorry for wrecking the better part of three countries in Southeast Asia, sorry...sorry...sorry. (We killed millions of people and left countless unexploded anti-personnel bombs lying around rice paddies and schoolyards. I'm sorry.)
Is
this a sorry excuse for a column? I'm sorry for that, too. It's been a rough
week here in Sri Lanka. We had to scrub rehearsal for one reason or another. My
lean-to leaned-fro, as the old saying goes. Now we're living in the weeds,
waiting for our Belgian friends to cough up enough cash to get our dwelling
repaired. (Of course, this publicity shot of us on Mars is included here just to
give you an idea of the privations we've been suffering. Ghastly business.)
We were thinking of asking Trevor James Constable to whip us up a new lean-to using Orgone energy, instead of standard construction techniques. But we haven't heard from old Trevor lately. Perhaps he's picking up etheric wisps of our intention to pump him for uncompensated assistance. There's a consummate professional for you.
As
soon as word got out that our house had fallen in, Big Green received sympathy
notes from everyone who shared our company on this recent tour, including young
George dubya, who sent us a photo of his friend Rudy Giuliani reacting to the
news. As you can see, he's all broken up about it. Tough break for the guy.
Dubya thinks he has trouble getting in touch with his emotions. I think there's
an element of fraternal rivalry, here. Hey, think about it -- death penalty
randomly applied vs. death penalty universally applied. It's the grudge match to
settle all grudge matches. Get Matt Grudge on the line.
Grim Choice Department. Sure, it's been a "slow news" week. But it didn't escape my notice that the First Lady was a visitor at a local sports bar here in Sri Lanka last weekend. It was kind of a strange choice, I must say, but at least it was close to the Thruway exit. I happened to be at some outdoor event that very day and heard several people putting old Hilz down. I didn't spring to her defense, of course, because a.) Goldwater Girls can defend themselves without my help, and b.) she's vile. But that Lazio dude....yuk. What can I tell you? We've got another "slow news" election coming up, friends.
I know....instead of the vote, we can have them meet at the sports bar and take turns climbing the rock-face wall or playing speedball while chugging growlers of Mississippi Mud. First one face down goes to the Senate. Sound right?
Well...gotta go. I have to tend a sick friend.
jp
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7/23/2000
Hi.
Coming off of a very tiring week here in Sri Lanka. I'm still a little punchy, so bear with me. (Are there bears in Sri Lanka? This I should know.)
We're
still living in the road after the collapse of the Big Green lean-to last week.
Trevor James failed to come to our assist. I was hoping Dr. Hump might have a
few suggestions for us (other than the utterly predictable ones), but he was
silent on the matter, as well. Looks like we're going to have to work this one
out for ourselves. So what's new? Hey...we survived a harsh Neptunian winter
without the benefit of outside assistance. We hadn't so much as a Necco wafer to
our name. So what if our so-called friends abandon us. Who needs um? Huh?
Sorry...I'm a bit on edge. I'll try to get a grip.
Needless to say, little has been done on the forthcoming album. We're bending all our efforts towards reconstruction and reconstitution of our domicile, such as it was. Matt's digging post-holes as I write, and John is busily filling them with styrofoam. I'll be ready with the cough syrup as soon as they're finished. Everyone has their job to do, and if we do it right, how can we lose?
Don't answer that.
I
can't truthfully say that we've been without any assistance whatsoever. An
obliging US Marine Colonel graciously offered to clear the land for our new
lean-to, engaging the help of some friends of his from the Diemist South
Vietnamese Army, whom he had imported from 1962. They were kind enough to
interrupt their sensitivity training seminar for a few moments just to lend a
hand. Now all we have to do is remove the charred remains of the nursery school
that was so hideously in our way, and we can expand our building project in
several directions. Got a problem? Tell it to a Marine.
So all is not as dim as it might be. It's been a long, difficult season, but I feel confident we will be able to fulfill the draconian requirements of our contract with Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm without any unreasonable delay. (Incidentally, Hegemonic was quick to engage the Marine Colonel and his buddies to help with a little labor problem they're having down at their plant in Papua New Guinea. Something to do with expecting payment for work. These natives....)
VeepStakes. With painstakingly-coiffed heads thrashing from side to side, the network news teams were calling the plays on the US Presidential race this week. ("They're neck and neck, coming into the clubhouse turn....") The exuberant, totally content-free coverage centered on what they referred to as the "Veep Stakes" -- which two white men the two white men running for Chief Executive White Man will pick. What could be more exciting?
Dubya,
ably advised by Dick (Lon) Cheney (former Defense Secretary and, later,
corporate supply master to our troops overseas) is looking over a list headed
by...Dick Cheney! Though I hear Dubya may be considering some other candidates,
as well. We did what we could to point him in the right direction, as you can
see.
And
Al Gore? I think Al should pick Al. Al has been such an exemplary Vice
President. Why doesn't Al just use film clips of himself as Veep. It's a hell of
a lot easier than finding someone who attains the same profound level of
mediocrity in every category -- no mean feat. If there is some constitutional
provision prohibiting the use of video archive footage as a virtual Vice
President, Al could just bring someone in from the many industries who stand to
gain from his (and/or Dubya's) election. Like maybe one of those hot-dog
missiles. Think of it -- technically adept, sterling military record, strong on
defense, white as a sheet, and obviously a tough guy who won't grow faint at the
sight of burned dead bodies. Better yet -- someone as stiff as Al! Missile for
Veep! Missile for Veep!
Civilization is saved. See you on the other side.
jp
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7/30/2000
Back for more, eh? Read on...
Things are a bit more on-track here on the island home of the world's most impoverished virtual pop group. I would hate to be responsible for bringing you tales of woe each week -- how depressing! Who wants to be greeted by a screenful of ugliness on a Sunday morning. I'll leave that to Sam and Cokie and the rest.
Anyway, the Big Green split-level, 10-room lean-to has been set to rights. Help came from a very unlikely source indeed, as some of you may recall from last week's column. A certain Marine Colonel attached to the U.S. Military Advisory Group in Saigon (under General Lansdale) lent us his expertise and a couple of protégés to clear a space for our reconstituted abode. Then he called in a couple of Huey Skyhooks to lift the sucker back into its nearly upright position. A task that might have taken months was completed in a couple of hours, thanks to this trusty 60's-vintage cold warrior. We're eternally in his debt.
But
that wasn't all the help he gave us. Col. Gung-Ho (not his real name) helped us
appreciate the level of freedom we enjoy vis-à-vis our counterparts enslaved by
the Communist enemy. He was kind enough to furnish us with this useful chart
outlining those many rights and privileges we take for granted in an open
society. Gung-Ho promised us that, by late next year (or early 1964, at the
latest), he and General Lansdale will have made the world safe from land reform
and other threats to peace and prosperity. We celebrated the Colonel's resolve
with a batch of homemade marshmallow squares, fresh out of Matt's oven.
Mmmm-boy!
So
there we were, munching on our Rice Crispy delights, when I realized that I had
met Gung-Ho before. It was a good many years ago, on the streets of New York. We
were watching a Communist Party parade commemorating party members who had died
during World War II. Gung-Ho was standing on the sidelines along Tenth Avenue,
dressed in drag, writing down everyone's name on little slips of paper and
stuffing them into his purse. Now, as I look at his rough-hewn face, righteous
determination chiseled into every feature, I can see traces of the pancake he
wore that day while cross-dressing, in service to his country. Talk about
sacrifice!
Well...I've wandered a bit. But the upshot is, we're back in business. Sort of. And soon we'll be providing you with more of the kind of musical content you expect from Big Green. Sure, maybe you like Kid Rock better. But hey -- he's making millions and we're making next to nothing. So here at Big Green, you get more quality for each dollar earned. That's our quality pledge to you.
Humanitarian
Gets The Nod. If you watch those morning news shows today (Sunday), you'll
see dubya's pick for "Veep," and it's a cracker! Dick (Lon) Cheney,
former congressman from Wyoming, former Defense Secretary, later procurement
entrepreneur and CEO of Texas-based Halliburton Corporation (read: Oil). A great
humanitarian who sought as congressman to 1. outlaw abortion, 2. defeat
sanctions against apartheid South Africa, 3. generally cut off the poor at the
knees. A humble, kind, and good man who will lead us back to the Pleistocene,
where we belong. Here he is, thinking about money.
Justice
For All. Looks like the NYPD and Giuliani are getting away with murder once
again, this time without the inconvenience of a trial. A Grand Jury in New York
failed to hand down any indictments in the shooting of unarmed, 26-year-old
Patrick Dorismond, who made the fatal mistake of objecting to the advances
of undercover cops seeking to induce him to purchase marijuana. He resisted, and
was shot dead for his impertinence. Giuliani felt so bad about it, he
immediately had Dorismond's sealed juvenile records released to the press, as
well as a post-mortem toxicology report. Now the Mayor and DA Morgenthau
offer their condolences, characterizing the event as a "tragedy". And
as you can see from this photo, Rudy's all broken up about it.
My advice to those on the streets of New York? Buy drugs. It's safer. Those dealers are pretty dangerous, especially the ones who work for the city.
I'm off. Love at you.
jp