All posts by Joe

Joe Perry is co-founder of the band Big Green and brother to Matt Perry, other co-founder of Big Green. Shall I go on?

Ryan’s express.

So it’s budget guy. Interesting choice, governor. At least we know where he stands (even if your position is still a little vague). We’ve apparently reached a pass in American politics where an unapologetic acolyte of Ayn Rand can be put forward as a candidate for vice president. This may have been unthinkable a year ago, when the Occupy Wall Street movement was in full swing, at least in terms of media coverage. Now that the “austerians,” as Tom Tomorrow calls them, have once again found their full-throated voice, Ryan can be seen as a serious contender for high office. Though they are backing away from the details of his Medicare proposal like it’s a live grenade, concentrating instead on Medicare reductions in the Affordable Care Act – reductions that are included in Ryan’s budget, incidentally.

My favorite dodge, though, is the one about sparing current retirees and near-retirees from painful cuts. Everyone 55 and over will keep the same system as current law, they claim; people younger than that can expect a voucher. Maybe that will buy some time with the elderly, I don’t know. But it seems to me that they’re risking pissing off people in the 45-55 bracket (namely, people like me), who have been in the private health insurance market their entire lives and have seen the magic of the marketplace at work first-hand. After decades of that, I can tell you that the notion of being handed a voucher when I’m finally allowed to retire is unacceptable.

Let’s take a closer look at Ryan’s competitive healthcare marketplace that will somehow work for seniors now better than it did prior to the advent of Medicare in the 1960s. The fact is, we’ve had competition in health insurance basically forever with respect to people under 65. Has the price gone down at all? Next question. If competition results in skyrocketing premiums for younger, relatively healthier people whose healthcare costs tend to be  more manageable, what will happen with elderly people who inevitably incur higher costs due to deteriorating health, age-related illness, palliative care, etc? That’s the reason why Medicare was created in the first place as a government guarantee of coverage for elderly people. Pushing more of its costs onto the people it’s supposed to be protecting is hardly a solution.

Same deal with Ryan’s Medicaid brainstorm. The super-genius wants to whittle that down by replacing it with block grants and reducing it by a third. People hear Medicaid and they think poor people (and, therefore, get apathetic about it). But when it comes to being elderly and needing nursing home care, practically everyone is poor… poor enough to need Medicaid. That’s where a good deal of custodial care funding comes from. Ask someone with elderly parents or someone who has done basic estate planning. Only the Romneys of the world need not rely on some kind of insurance support in their dotage.

This is a good conversation to have, frankly. Let’s have it, and make certain the elderly and the near-elderly understand what’s at stake before the November election.

luv u,

jp

Mars calling.

Looks good, Mitch. Can you make it move forward a little bit? You know… just roll a little towards that crater-like object. That’s a crater? No lie? Hmmm….

Oh, hello. Just watching the Curiosity rover on Mars. No, we’re not glued to the NASA web site staring at the same low rez images everyone else is poring over. God, no. When you have friends in the world of science, that gets you access, my good fellow. Big Green, of course, has an official mad science advisor in the form of Mitch Macaphee, inventor of Marvin (my personal robot assistant) and thrice honored diplomate of the international college of lunatic physicists. When he heard about this Mars rover at a recent loony conference, he built himself a little home made telemetry device that allows him to … well … take command of the Mars rover. (“Oh, no you didn’t!” we said. But oh, yes he did. )

This telemetry thing isn’t about science, though. Don’t say it’s about science. It’s about much more selfish pursuits. Let us face it – Big Green is hungry, friends …. hungry as a dog. We haven’t had a paying gig since… well, since last year. Our promoters at Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, Inc., have yet to shell out the money for an interstellar tour. Plainly, Big Green has to take matters into its own hands. And whereas some bands turn to their trusted manager, agent, tour promoter, etc., we have only Mitch Macaphee. And as mentioned before, he’s freaking crazy. That’s what is called a telemetry-producing situation.

So how do we leverage this? Well, I’m trying to get Mitch to send commands to the Curiosity rover. We need it to be our arms and legs on Mars. Why? Because there’s this little venue at the foot of Mount Olympus (tallest known mountain in the solar system) that would hire us for a three-night run if we could just get their attention. Can’t afford to ride out there ourselves. (Not in this economy, damnit.) Curiosity can act as our booking agent on Mars. And before you ask, don’t sweat it. We’ll give him the standard 15%. We’re not bad people.

So, okay, Mitch … can you make the Rover say, “private dressing room, behind the stage”? How about, “pitcher of gin and tonic every half hour”? Well, try again, damn your eyes! He’s letting that owner off way too easy.

Eyes wide open.

I suppose if I’m going to rant about anything this week, it’s going to be the election. Election years are always nerve-wracking, like a slow-motion train wreck. They make me feel, more than ever, that we as a nation are sleep-walking into history. The notion that we can be on the knife-edge of electing someone like Mitt Romney president – that working people of any persuasion (to say nothing of retirees) would ever consider voting for that overpaid fichus tree in a suit – is simply flabbergasting.

To be certain, Obama has not acted boldly enough on the economy, on basic issues of human rights, and so on. That’s a given. But let us not forget how we got into this hole in the first place. We had eight years of Dubya Bush, during which time he and his fellow cartoon pirates started two wars, established torture as an open instrument of foreign policy, blew an enormous hole in the federal budget with two rounds of wartime tax cuts, let New Orleans be destroyed, crashed the economy into what has turned out to be a milder version of the Great Depression, and quite a bit more. They did so with the full cooperation of a Republican led congress for six full years, and effective Republican control for the remaining two. (The Dems’ razor-thin majority 2007-2009 didn’t buy them much.)

I find it hard to blame anyone for falling into cynicism with regard to the two-party duopoly we call American democracy. In too many ways, there isn’t a dime’s worth of difference between the two major parties. But there are enough differences to make it worth the time and effort (and in some states, it will take both time and effort – I’m looking at you, Ohio!) to cast a decisive vote against Romney and the G.O.P. congress. Not that this is all one has to do to move the country in the right direction – far from it. But the consequences of doing nothing on election day are … well, we’ve seen them. (See paragraph #2.) The Republicans get worse every cycle they hold power. If they take it again this time, they will gut the remaining social safety net (frayed as it is), throw millions out of work through forced austerity, drive us into recession, start another war, build a transcontinental pipeline to carry toxic sludge to the gulf where it can be turned into diesel fuel and sold to China, and… well, you’ve heard the rest.

I’m not asking you to ignore Obama’s failings. Resist, of course. But don’t think replacing him with a clueless millionaire won’t drive us into a deeper hole. We can’t afford to take that trip again. Vote with your eyes open … but for @$%# sake, vote.

luv u,

jp

All about process.

Thursday night is still good for me. What about the rest of the week? I’m busy, that’s what. Man’s got to sleep sometime, you know. Blame it on the diurnal rotation of the earth and the fact that my ancestors evolved on this miserable pimple of a planet! (Oh, crikey … now I’m borrowing throwaway phrases from minor characters in Lost in Space.)

What do you say to someone who sleeps six and a half days a week? WAKE UP! That might work. I’ve got a little problem in that direction, I admit. It’s prompted me to ask Mitch Macaphee to install some kind of alarm clock function in Marvin (my personal robot assistant). He gave me a look that would melt iron, but w.t.f. – why shouldn’t I expect a sophisticated robot to have a level of functionality one might expect from a ten dollar wristwatch? (Mitch told me to go out and buy a ten dollar wristwatch, actually. He has a point.)

What’s this got to do with Big Green, the larger world of indie music, and the fate of the universe in general? Over here at the Hammer Mill, we’re always hashing out when to do what. Thursday night is usually the time Matt and I get together to work out arrangements, record, etc. That’s happening at something of a snail’s pace by most people’s standards – by Big Green standards, however, it’s greased lightning. Just look at our discography. Two albums in 15 years, plus some assorted EP and single releases. It took us five years – FIVE YEARS – to record, mix, master, and release our last album, International House. Every time I hear it, I am reminded of …. well, just about everything that happened during that five years. Talk about a mnemonic device!

Anyhow, our upcoming album – Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick – is coming along a hell of a lot faster than that. We’ve got basic tracks for all of the songs recorded; mostly tweaking to do from this point forward. Most of the songs have been featured in first draft form on our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, so you can hear proto-mixes of almost the entire album if you can stand listening to us gab hours on end. And do bad imitations of famous people. And sing impromptu songs. And insult the dead.

Okay… so you probably haven’t heard the first drafts. Just look for the finished product. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some sleeping to do.

Mitt’s excellent adventure.

Did you hear it last week, over the noise emanating from the London Olympics? That collective groan from points east? That was the world reacting to the man who might be president next January. There are, I’m sure, millions in Europe and the Middle East thinking, Really, America? So soon after Bush, you’re going to elect yet another ham-fisted idiot? Really? In many respects, our president is president of the world, if only because he (and thus far, it’s always been “he”) wields enormous power – military, economic, and diplomatic – over virtually everyone else. (They should probably get a vote in the matter, but then here in America we’re not even guaranteed that right, depending upon which state we live in.)

Though his spinmeisters have been working overtime to put a positive gloss on it, Mitt’s softball trip to friendly nations was an unmitigated (or un-Mitt-igated, perhaps) disaster, from the crypto-racist tone of the adviser referencing our shared “Anglo-Saxon heritage” with the British, to the Olympic gaffe, to name-checking MI6 (psst, Mitt: it’s supposed to be a secret), to blaming Palestinian poverty on their “culture” or lack of same. That last comment is something of a bookend to the Anglo-Saxon trope he started off with, making Romney seem strangely fixated on issues of ethnic identity. (He later doubled down on the Palestinian remark in an essay in National Review online.)

Of course, the stop was another opportunity to signal his willingness to countenance war with Iran, whether started by Israel or by the United States. In this we hear his neocon Bush-era advisors speaking, such as Dan Senor, former military flack during the early days of the Iraq invasion, who said on Romney’s behalf that the governor would “respect that decision” if Israel chose to strike Teheran militarily. No doubt. I hope everyone over here is listening closely to what Romney and his campaign are saying about foreign policy. They seem anxious to get another war started, having tasted what they seem to consider “success” in the Iraq catastrophe. And for those who say the economy is the only issue that matters, it’s worth considering what yet another pointless war would do to the federal budget.

Mitt’s got FoxNews syndrome – too much time spent with friendly media. He just doesn’t know how to behave in the real world. Ergo, his press availabilities were practically zero during this trip. I’ll bet he’s glad to be back home, in the comforting embrace of Sean Hannity.

luv u,

jp

All’s well that ends.

That’s no good. They will certainly have lifted the phonograph needle by that point. The phonograph needle… you know… the thing that scratches along the record and makes the music come out. Don’t you know anything about technology?

Oh, hello. Didn’t see you there, peering in from the void of cyberspace. Just working my way through some technical issues relating to our upcoming album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. Getting into the minutiae with our mad science advisor, Mitch Macaphee, who will actually be making the records this time out. Yes, we do have a corporate label – Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, Inc., a.k.a. Hegephonic Records – but they are kind of a “hands off” outfit (unless you owe them money; then it’s another story … one involving off duty military personnel, typically …. I’ll stop there).

What all that means is simply this: under our “contract”, we make the product from start to finish. We write the songs, record them, cut the discs, package them, carry them to all of the stores, etc.  Hegephonic does the rest. (That is to say, they rest up until there’s some looting to do. It’s complicated.) So, we’re just trying to work out a few of the details with Mitch, who apparently has never heard of the gramophone record. Have you been to the talkies yet, Mitch? They’re like a freaking conjurer’s trick!

The fact is, Matt and I prefer to concentrate on more artistic matters… like what’s going to happen at the end of every song. Sure, most pop songs just fade away, but the story doesn’t end there, my friends. Indeed, a lot of meaning is lost in that fade-out groove. Big Green, for its part (which part I decline to say), is dedicating itself to recovering some of that lost value for the benefit of listeners everywhere. And we’re going to do that by putting them out on the interwebs – a collection of last gasps, as it were. Some funky, so sullen, some so bizarre even I can’t fathom the implications of their existence. It cannot be so! I find myself shouting when I hear them. And yet it is so.

So…. something to look forward to. That’s what we like to hear. Now … about those photographic plates…. Don’t drop them! They’re glass, you know.

Crock tears.

Attention, politicians of every stripe. I don’t want to hear your expressions of regret over the Aurora massacre. You have no intention of doing anything to stop this bloodletting, so spare me your pious speeches and your pretentious, made-for-television tears. There is no excuse for what happened in Aurora, Colorado last weekend. You can blame that madman for losing his head and killing people, but there is a collective responsibility for the magnitude of the crime. This atrocity goes way beyond what a single armed person should be able to perpetrate through the use of legally obtained weaponry.

Perhaps some do not see a difference between 70 people shot and five. There is a difference. Five is bad, unacceptable, and something to be outraged about. Seventy shot – twelve fatally – is beyond outrage, and was only possible through the use of military grade weaponry. If Holmes had been armed only with the type of gun my dad used to carry (loaded) to coin shows on Sundays, perhaps only two or three families would be mourning lost loved ones, only a handful fighting their way back to a tolerable state of health, only one or two paralyzed for life. Instead, he had an assault rifle with an ammunition clip that holds 100 rounds, as well as two Glock handguns and a shotgun. Overkill would be putting it mildly. That’s more like the arms dad lugged about in Germany during WWII, when he carried a Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR). Here’s the difference: HE WAS FIGHTING NAZI GERMANY.

Invoking the second amendment, are we? Two things. First, I seem to recall, back in the early days of Dubya Bush’s Glorious War on Everyone that in the face of an all-out assault on civil liberties (made manifest in the USA Patriot Act) that conservatives were fond of saying something to the effect of, “The Constitution is not a suicide pact.” Since they were so eager to toss out the first, fourth, and fifth amendments under that banner, why the hell should we, in the face of atrocities like Aurora, hesitate to consider limiting application of the second?

Secondly, if our representatives in government would take the ten seconds it requires to actually read the second amendment, they might notice that the word “gun” does not appear anywhere in that brief and cryptic complex clause. It’s referring to “arms”. What the hell does “arms” mean? Guns, sure. But bombs are arms, too. So are bazookas. Landmines, anti-aircraft missiles, nerve gas – they all fit within that rubric, as do nuclear missiles, tanks, and battleships, for that matter. My point is, we are already interpreting the second amendment and limiting its application. We are not merely relying on its text for guidance in this matter. I have to think even conservatives are against letting anyone buy and plant land mines in their yard. But if you think about it, a landmine is probably going to kill fewer people than that AK-47 knock-off Holmes got his hands on.

So … why do we allow one and not the other? Both are horrific weapons of war. Both should be banned from use in civilian life. We have to draw the line somewhere – we’ve already done so. Let’s just draw it on the safe side of AK-47s and 40 – 100 round ammo clips.

luv u,

jp

Poditis.

How do you spell XML again? Does it rhyme with “smell”? No coincidence, I suspect. Jesus christ on a bike. Technology is for fools. And forever a fool I shall be.

Oh, hi. Just got done cobbling together this month’s episode of THIS IS BIG GREEN, our notorious podcast, and placing it online with the technological equivalent of stone knives and bearskins. My approach to programming is akin to placing several monkeys at computers loaded with self-peeling banana screensavers. Trial and error… but mostly trial. Anyway, it got done, and that’s just as well, because this month’s episode is chock full of something. Yes, friends, it’s full of ingredients. It contains contents. Should I draw you a picture?

Right. You’ll see from the program notes that there are not one but TWO new songs from Cousin Rick Perry, governor of Texas. These are two more in a series of “first draft” recordings that will comprise (in a more finished form) Big Green’s upcoming album, tentatively named Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. Our cousin has inspired an album’s worth of material, to be sure, including one jaunty little number called “Awesome Hair”:

It once adorned Reagan, now on your head it sits
and not on that wanna-be latter day Mitt’s.
When you’re nonsensically talking, it especially fits
If anyone tries to muss it up, you mess with their shit.

Pure audio dynamite, that’s what that is.

Thankfully, things were a little quieter around the hammer mill this week. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) finally gave up any idea of going to robot camp for the summer. “Just because all of the neighbors’ robots are doing something,” I heard myself telling him, “that doesn’t mean you have to do it, too. If they all rolled into the car-crusher, would you follow them?” At that point, Marvin emitted a metallic cluck and rolled his eyes. I just can’t say anything right, it seems. (He’s at that difficult age when robots start pushing the boundaries a little bit. )

One other thing about the podcast, before I forget. You might want to listen to it with something running in the background, like maybe an espresso machine. That would give a better sense of what’s going on in our heads when we record it. Just a suggestion.

 

Stuff and … more stuff.

Once again, a bit pressed for times. Projects, projects, projects – you know the tune. Here’s what’s chewing on my nerves this week:

In search of a problem. The G.O.P. is obsessed with the notion of voter fraud, a phenomenon so rare that it makes injuries from lightning strikes seem frequent by comparison. Can we just stop pretending, for five minutes, that this is a sincere concern about the integrity of our elections? It’s pretty obvious what they’re up to – they are fighting a rear-guard action against demographic trends, long acknowledged, that do not favor a virtually all-white party such as themselves. The only way to do that is through the usual methods they have employed over the years: voter suppression. Voter I.D. laws, in particular, are meant to place significant hurdles of time, expense, and logistics between individuals and the ballot. Let’s call it what it is – a direct attack on voting rights. Time to push back … hard.

Crime and punishment. As was clear when he was in the White House, leaking the name of a CIA agent and pressing Federal Attorneys to prosecute non-existent voter fraud (see above), Karl Rove is a very nasty piece of work. Now he’s a major force in our electoral process, thanks in part to the Citizens United decision of the Supreme Court. Rove’s 501(c)4 “social welfare organization” Crossroads GPS has been sluicing corporate money into campaigns by the millions of dollars. In 2010 his group was instrumental in swamping Syracuse area congressman Dan Maffei with negative ads in the last two weeks of the campaign, electing tea party challenger Ann Marie Buerkle by a handful of votes – one of many such interventions. He’s doing the same this year. With regard to Rove, I agree with George W. Bush: criminals should know there are consequences to their actions. Should have put him in jail when they had the chance.

Stop TPP. The Obama administration’s trade representative is in the midst of very quiet negotiations on the Trans-Pacific Partnership agreement – basically a global NAFTA on steroids. The reason it’s being discussed behind closed doors is that the moment the provisions of these investor rights agreements become public, public outrage brings them down. (See the Multilateral Agreement on Investment and other similar pacts.) I suggest you take a look at this and do what you can to make others aware of it before they slip it in under the radar. This agreement would be a disaster for labor, for environmental regulations, for trade policy, you name it.  Go to http://stoptpp.org/ to find out how.

Spread the word, friends. That is all.

luv u,

jp

Settle. Just settle.

Listen, Marvin. I know you want to go to summer camp like all of the other robot assistants. That’s understandable at your age. But you have to understand, we just can’t afford it right now. It’s not that we don’t want you to go … it’s money, Marvin. We’ll try to save enough to send you to robot assistant camp next year, okay?

Sheesh. Another dejected look. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has now officially joined the ranks of the disgruntled. That makes about nine of us, if you count both Lincolns. We are in the dog days and, apparently, the doldrums of summer here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill in beautiful upstate New York, and I can tell you personally, nobody’s happy around these parts. I blame our persistent lack of gainful employment. Most band entourages, as you know, can occupy themselves with the somewhat questionable benefits of touring. Big Green, though, has not done a tour yet this year, and I fear that fact is beginning to wear on us all.

Aw, now look…. mansized tuber is getting fussy again! Matt! Lincoln! Mitch! Somebody else take a turn, for chrissake! I’ve repotted him twice today already and it’s only noon.

Jeebus, just listen to me. Listen to all of us. It’s the sound of domestic life, that’s what it is. We have been in one place far too long, my brothers. I feel the road calling me, once again. Ah, the aroma of poorly prepared meals, the clatter of ancient window-mounted air conditioners, the inviting patina of a well-used shower stall. Okay, so there isn’t a lot about touring that I miss. It’s the lack of touring that worries me. For one thing, it makes us prone to lethargy (well….. more prone, let’s say). For another, it drains our modest resources to what can only be described as a negative value. You see …. oh, jesus. Wait just a minute, my friends…

Not that pot, Mitch! I used that one earlier today. Give tubey a fresh one from the garden shed. Use your head, man!

Right. Where was I? Doesn’t matter. We have to get another interstellar tour together. Just as soon as we finish our upcoming album / rock opera / whatever the fuck it is, titled Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. Check out our July podcast, soon to be posted, for details.