Season’s greetings to you all. And we of Big Green say hello as well, whatever the so-called “season” may have to say. (Who ever heard of a talking season?)
Just writing whilest we’re having a little Thanksgiving layover on Titan, moon of Saturn, mother of all Tofurky. (Yes, this is where it comes from.) Taking a little break from the feasting, conversing, and pontificating (Anti-Lincoln is back on his Mexican-American War soapbox again), so this is a good time to open the mail, it seems. Most of our inquiries appear to be about our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, so let’s start with this:
Dear Big Green:
On your podcast, I heard you read a bogus letter asking why so many of your songs are about war. You, of course, never answered the question to anyone’s satisfaction. I now challenge you to do this thing. What is with the war kick?
Sincerely,
Gen. Douglas MacArthur (deceased)
Well, General – thanks for listening to our podcast, first of all. Why do we write about war? I don’t know. Why do we write about Christmas? Sure, we’re not soldiers, but then we’re not practicing Christians, so neither makes sense. I guess you could say we’re just ranging around for material, grabbing anything that doesn’t run away screaming. (And some things that do.) Sometimes we ask Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to name themes for us using his autonomic radomizer. We’re that desperate, dude.
Here’s another:
Dear Big Green:
I’ve listened to your previously unreleased songs. They sound, well, half-baked. Is that intentional, or are you just too damn lazy to finish them?
Best,
Phil Specter (deceased)
Hey, Phil – it’s a fair question. Yeah, the previously unreleased songs on the podcast are, in fact, literally half-baked. They are first drafts, if you will (or even if you won’t), of recordings for our next collection of material. We’re planning to track the better ones and release them under separate cover. These initial recordings are basically Matt and I playing the songs like we do as a two-man band, with a basic rhythm track, guitar, keys, vocals. That’s it. No wall of sound yet. We’re working on the sheet rock right now, man. Patience!
Whoa, is that the time? Back to the Tofurky fest for me. Cheers.
Mean Little S.O.B. Gingrich has never been a favorite of mine – nor of practically anyone’s, I suspect – but his current campaign for president is remarkably nasty even by his low standard. The only flicker of humanity I’ve seen in him thus far has been his call to implement a bracero-like program for undocumented immigrants who have been here for many years. That will likely cost him with Republican voters, just as it did cousin Rick Perry, who voiced support for education benefits for undocumented youngsters. You could see the stifled glee on Romney’s face when Gingrich rolled out that position during one of the recent debates. No need to worry, though. Gingrich has kept to his standard of dickishness, intoning an almost Nixonian contempt of the Occupy Wall Street movement, exhorting them to take a bath and find a job, etc. Earth to Newt: it’s no longer 1971, man. That dog won’t hunt.
Yes, friends – Big Green is spending another traditional family holiday a long, long way from home. It’s Thanksgiving on Neptune, and I have to say, this holiday doesn’t mean much to folks up here. The casinos are filled with punters, and I don’t think they’re shipping them in from Saturn. It’s just another day to these creatures. And as we enter the final (turkey) leg of our [INSERT NAME HERE] Interstellar Tour 2011, we have another succession of bizarre events to greet us. Here is the week that was:
And contrary to what is argued by Ayn Rand acolytes like Paul Ryan and (Ayn) Rand Paul, the wealthy truly do ride on the backs of working people. That has always been the case. Rand imagined the world being brought to a standstill by a wealthy, innovative class of overlords who withhold their beneficent participation in Rand’s dystopian top-down economy. The truth is, they are far more reliant on us than we are on them. Sure, the wealthy can choose to invest their capital in ways that create jobs. But where did that capital come from? How does an industrialist, a banker, an entrepreneur, an oil executive gather all that wealth? Mostly through the under-compensated labor of millions of workers.
Hey, sorry. Just working out the set list for our next string of performances. We’re not one of those groups that just gets up on stage in front of 20,000 people (or 20,000 amorphous blobs of protoplasm) and wings it, playing whatever comes into our heads. No, sir … we plan out every inch of our stage show, from the song list to the dance steps to Marvin (my personal robot assistant) juggling torches. (Yes, that’s right, Marvin – it’s torches this time! Deal with it!)
Primary numbers. Cousin Rick Perry seems to have a lot of trouble with ordinal lists, even with Ron Paul trying to throw him a bone. (Note to Rick: when someone gives you an easy out, take it.) He somehow managed to draw attention away from Herman Cain’s various troubles for a large portion of a news cycle, and not in a good way. Given cousin Perry’s seemingly drunken performance in New Hampshire last week and his puzzling lapse this week, one has to wonder if he really wants that Washington job. Cain, on the other hand, seems to want it badly enough to hire legal counsel to threaten women with litigation if any one of them dares step forward with yet another allegation against the pizza king. Now that’s the kind of message we want to send women, right? Spoken like a true CEO.
Where have all the good tours gone? This one has gone a bit flat, though I will say that we did manage to get the rent-a-ship rolling again, thanks to 
I’m thinking about NPR particularly because of the president’s declaration that the Iraq war will be drawn to a close at the end of this year, despite the administration’s efforts to keep it rolling for an indefinite period of deployment. NPR was completely on board with the Iraq war back in 2002-03; they dropped the ball on anything like investigative journalism at a time when it might have mattered to get the truth out. People tend to forget that the alternative press, plus outlets like the London Independent, blew holes in the Bush Administration’s case for war well before the shooting began. 
That’s the problem with interstellar tours, my friends. A billion opportunities for misunderstandings. No shortage of those, particularly when you’re traveling with the two Lincolns (posi- and anti-), as we appear to be out here on Big Green’s vaunted [INSERT NAME HERE] INTERSTELLAR TOUR 2011. Anyway, here’s how it went down this week:
I think it’s worth remembering that in Egypt, in Tunisia, and likely elsewhere, it was economics that really lit the fire under people. Torture in police custody, exclusion from meaningful political participation, persecution of minorities … abuses of every kind and character were endured by Egyptians – not without resistance, mind you, but without broad outrage. It wasn’t until Mubarak instituted substantial neoliberal economic “reforms”, opening up the Egyptian economy to greater international corporate penetration, that people had had enough. Now not only did you lack a voice in government and enjoy no constitutional rights when detained; you also could not make even the meager living you were making a year or two before. In a nation of extreme economic inequality, this was more broadly felt even then the hard end of the police baton. Everyone was affected.