Political Rants

New pilot.

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As I write this, the details are still filtering in from Georgia about the shooting at the massage parlors in and near Atlanta. Yet another sickening crime carried out by some dude who bought a gun the same day he decided to use it on a bunch of innocent people. That’ll be $600, young man. Enjoy the pistol! Want bullets with that? Goddamn, what a crazy country we live in. Still, the part of this incident that made me scratch my head was when the police told us that the suspect had said the crime was not racially motivated. (Of course, this was followed up by the officer’s comment that the alleged shooter was having a bad day.) My first reaction to that was …. since when do you care what the suspect says? The answer, of course, is obvious – the suspect is white. Can you picture them coming out and saying something similar about a black person in custody? Neither can I.

I’m listening to a podcast called Resistance, and though I’m not crazy about the corporate advertising (for instance, I now know way more about the latest Mitsubishi compact SUV than I ever needed to know), they do really good work. The episode I’m listening to, entitled “My Somebody”, focuses on a young man from Baltimore who is incarcerated for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can tell you, the police didn’t give a damn what this fellow had to say about his guilt or innocence. They shot him in the face and stood guard around his hospital bed. But then … he’s black. As for the white guy who shot up three massage parlors in Georgia this week, well, he was having a bad day, according to some random (white) police captain known for sharing anti-Asian posts on Facebook. I mean, seriously …. they don’t even bother trying to hide it anymore, do they?

This is what underlies the movement for de-funding and even abolishing the police. If you are a white person, and you grew up in, say, a town like my old home town, which was almost entirely white at that time, the police are there to protect you. In other words, they are there to protect you from the nasty, non-white people down the street in Utica or Albany or Rochester or wherever. If, on the other hand, you are a person of color and you live in a community of color, the police are not there to protect you. They are there to contain you, to detain you, to keep you in your place. They are there to watch you like a hawk. That is why so many black families don’t dial up the cops when stuff goes wrong. It doesn’t matter if there are black police officers, or a black police chief, or a black mayor … or hell, a black president. Like the Pentagon, law enforcement is like a big killing machine. You can put a different pilot in there, and they may drive the killing machine more slowly, even nudge it into reverse, but it’s still going to do what it’s designed to do. The abuse is a feature, not a bug.

There’s a lot to be said about criminal justice reform, and we’ve barely even begun to have that conversation. But if we’re ever going to even attempt to fix these problems, we must first acknowledge the nature of the system we have. That is a prerequisite for moving forward.

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.

Usual Rubbish

Banjogeddon.

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2000 Years to Christmas

So, wait a minute. You say the Chicago tuning is like the top strings on a guitar? Is that so? What about the standard plectrum tuning? Oh … and I think I turned the peg too many times … unless it’s supposed to sound like that. My bad.

Oh, hi. Just caught me in the middle of a session. No, it’s not the kind of session we usually have here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill (our adopted squat-house in upstate New York) – something a bit more prosaic. As always, Big Green is making do with whatever is around us at any given time. When we made 2000 Years To Christmas, for instance, we were short on effects, so we had to use the mill’s steam HVAC system to get some decent reverb. Then, when faced with a shortage of horn players during the sessions for International House, we had to retrofit the mill’s HVAC system so it could be used as a brass section. And when our mastering deck broke down in the middle of mixing Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick, in a moment of desperation we routed the tracks through the HVAC system, which may explain why that album sounds the way it does. (There has to be a reason.)

Right, so we’re sorting through the songs we’ve written and recorded since 2013, mostly Ned Trek related numbers, with an eye to enhancing the tracks before attempting to release them to the public. And in more than one case, it seems like we’re a little light on the stringed instruments. Only trouble is, our guitars are all out at the guitar laundry …. I mean, the tech. The only thing we have left is a four-string banjo left here by the “Old Ones.” (How many centuries ago? Even Ruk doesn’t remember.) The strings are made of some nameless substance that I’m afraid may have once been a living thing. The tuners are worn away to nubs. There isn’t a good thing to be said about the remains of this instrument. In other words, it’s a perfect addition to our next album … whatever that may be called. (Something with banjo in the title?)

Hey, that's great, Abe.

I have to tell you, it’s been close to a decade since I last played a banjo. (And what’s worse than that, even then, I never knew how to play the effing thing.) That’s why I’m working with our resident expert, Antimatter Lincoln, on how to at least tune the instrument. He prefers the Chicago tuning, being a former resident of antimatter Illinois (or Sionilli, as they call it). After that, he started giving me some pointers. Things like, “Don’t cross the street with your eyes closed,” and “Keep your feet under your knees at all times,” and who could forget, “Avoid the Ford Theatre on April 15, 1865.” No pointers on how to play the banjo, but he did rip into a couple of songs while I was in the room, and let me tell you … he makes me look like a good banjo player. (Notice I said “look” and not “sound”.)

This may end up with some kind of dueling banjos standoff between me and Anti-Lincoln. Who will prevail? Music, my friends … that’s who.

Political Rants

To the rescue.

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Congress approved the 1.9 trillion-dollar COVID rescue package this week, and while the final version didn’t include everything I would liked to have seen in the bill, there’s some decent stuff in there. What’s more, it is generally on a scale that approaches that of the problems we face. This is a departure, and one would hope a trend, away from the post-Reagan neoliberal consensus and towards a broader notion of what government may be called upon to accomplish on behalf of ordinary people. We have often heard pundits spin a false dichotomy between “big government liberalism” and “small government conservatism” – the fact is, conservatives and the right more generally are all in favor of big government, so long as it serves the interests of the powerful. The fact that the rescue package turns this on its head is an indication of how far we’ve come in recent years, despite all the resistance.

We’re overdue for that sort of turn, frankly. We’ve been living in the Reagan economic universe for forty years – essentially my entire adult life – with labor under siege, bloated military budgets, corporate-friendly multilateral investor rights agreements (popularly known as “free trade agreements”), and imperial swagger on the world stage. Obviously one bill is not going to change all of that, but it’s a step in the right direction, and a relatively bold one at that, compared to what we’re used to. Sure, the COBRA subsidies are kind of stupid and a massively inefficient way to extend health insurance to unemployed people. Sure, the checks should have been $2000 because that’s what everyone – including Trump – was calling for just after the election. Sure, they should have kept the $15 minimum wage because it was a solid provision that would have pegged the rate to inflation instead of giving employers a gradually increasing discount on the cost of labor. But what’s there is mostly good.

Biden and others have said that provisions in this bill will cut child poverty in half. I think that’s great, but it’s kind of like dividing the baby. If we can cut it in half, how about spending more and eliminating it entirely? So much of what’s in the legislation addresses inequality in a substantive way, but the solutions are almost all temporary ones. It’s incumbent on progressives to push the administration and Congress to build these initiatives out into more permanent benefits. We will see what kind of an effect this bill will have on families and individuals. If it’s dramatic enough, that could create the kind of popular momentum needed to push a broader agenda forward. We know what some of that will look like – the minimum wage, labor reforms, etc. We need a wealth tax, not so much to generate revenue (it will do that) but to reduce inequality and lessen the power and influence of the ultra wealthy. I’m talking about an upper limit on assets – something well south of a billion dollars. That’s the kind of tax system we need.

This could have come out much worse, and I think a lot of credit is due progressives like Bernie Sanders and some of the great people in the House. Their fingerprints are all over the more progressive pieces of this, and that’s cause for celebration.

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.
Usual Rubbish

Spring Chills.

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2000 Years to Christmas

Throw another log on the fire. What’s that? No more logs? What the hell. Then break up one of those lobster traps. We haven’t caught a single lobster in twenty years of squatting in this mill – can’t understand it. Stupid trap!

Oh, hi. Yeah, you caught us looking for alternative sources of fuel again. It’s pretty much a full time job for the likes of us here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. It takes a lot of fuel to heat a big old barn of a place like this, even with the entire west wing collapsed and the north wing taken over by lunatic neighbors. In this current cold snap, we’ve resorted to burning whatever wood we can get both hands on. Brother anti-Lincoln has even started pulling up the floorboards in his personal apartment. Inasmuch as it’s on the third floor, this is making navigating around his living space more and more of a challenge. (He’s devised a system of ropes, but I believe he’s thinking of throwing those into the fire as well.)

Now, plenty of people have asked us, “Hey, Big Green …. since your name is Big Green, why don’t you install some solar panels on the roof of the Cheney Hammer Mill?” To that I respond, good question, plenty of people. We resort to something like passive solar energy – opening the blinds on sunny days and rubbing our hands together furiously. And sure, we could ask our mad science advisor, Mitch Macaphee, to fashion some kind of perpetual energy machine, but our Mitch is a temperamental artist – if he invents a perpetual energy machine, it’s because he saw a hole in the world shaped like such a machine, then carved something out to plug that hole. Selfish human concerns, like avoiding hypothermia, are of no interest to him. He’s looking at the BIG picture … and that picture is big enough to block his view of yours truly.

Pedal faster?

We tried to get in touch with our cousin, Rick Perry, former Energy Secretary and Governor of Texas, as well as subject of our third album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick, but he hasn’t taken any of our calls. So much for pulling strings. (Hey …. maybe we can pull strings to generate electricity … ) There is another option besides resorting to the assistance of celebrity relatives – getting one of those energy generating recumbent bike thingies. Just hook that thing up and go. We could get Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to pedal the thing, and that would produce enough juice to power a block of space heaters as long as your arm and thick as your ass. For the record, Marvin’s not crazy about the idea, and suggested I might consider doing it myself as a way of shedding some of the COVID pounds I’ve put on over the past year. Still, it’s one way of getting through March without ending up having to be picked up with a pair of ice tongs.

This will be easy. Just set up the bike, plug it into the wall, and pedal backwards. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t do it.

Political Rants

Enter The Blob.

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As anyone who listens to my podcast, Strange Sound, knows, I’ve had serious differences with the Biden team on foreign policy from early on in their campaign. What first gave me pause was the fact that the “issues” section of their campaign web site included no foreign policy items whatsoever, except one or two bank-shot mentions of other countries in the context of discussions about domestic policy issues, like immigration and energy policy. Of course, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, as Donald Rumsfeld once told us, and in this context the cliche is true – while Biden’s outward-facing platform was a blank slate on foreign policy, there was definitely a there there, even if we couldn’t see it. And, no great surprise, the Biden foreign policy is basically built around the return of the blob (a.k.a. the imperial foreign policy establishment that has dominated administrations of both major parties since the American empire began).

We saw evidence of this in stark relief this past week with the bombing of “Iranian-backed” elements in Syria. Immediately we saw mainstream commentators like Richard Haas on television describing this as a measured and appropriate response to what they described as Iranian provocations, parroting the administration line that the U.S. needed to do this to show the Iranians that they can’t do whatever they want in the region without consequences. (That privilege we reserve to ourselves, of course – hence the raid.) The Biden administration is taking the path of least resistance, returning to the settled imperial order of confronting Iran at every opportunity, imposing conditions on them unilaterally, and not taking responsibility for our own disastrous policy decisions over the past four years (which, themselves, compounded the disastrous policy decisions of the preceding 75 years).

The fact is, the Biden administration is building on that bad policy. While Anthony Blinken has not openly endorsed Trump’s recognition of Israeli sovereignty over the occupied Golan Heights, he is leading the State Department in returning to something that still looks a lot like that recognition, while keeping the American embassy in Jerusalem – a decision that cements in place this open defiance of the very concept of a two-state solution. The Biden State Department is still calling Juan Guaido the “interim president” of Venezuela when he is, in fact, no such thing and has no standing as the leader of that country – a delusional policy originated by the Trump crew. Biden is unlikely to withdraw U.S. recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara, a criminal quid-pro-quo over recognition of Israel, brokered by the Trump administration. Don’t even get me started on Saudi Arabia. In fact, as far as I can see, the only policy Biden appears poised to reverse is Trump’s opening to North Korea – literally the only good thing the man ever did (albeit by accident).

With respect to foreign affairs, war and peace, we appear to be locked into place, regardless of which major party runs the White House. Bad news for anyone who might have hoped this presidential transition would bring a saner approach to the world. Doesn’t seem likely.

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.
Usual Rubbish

A little background.

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2000 Years to Christmas

Nah, that doesn’t look all that great. Maybe move it a bit more to the left. How about a fill light or two. Is that any better? No? Right … start again.

Man, oh Manischewitz! This age of virtual meetings and electronic communications is annoying in the extreme. You freaking can’t do anything in person anymore. For the first few months we managed to keep a low profile by simply sending Marvin (my personal robot assistant) out to do our various tasks, like shopping, garbage removal, pretzel bending, molecule counting, and other odd jobs. Then last August, Marvin started reading Thomas Piketty, discovered the value of his labor and chose to withhold it from us, now that he considers us soulless capitalist exploiters. In response to Woke Marvin’s job action, we’ve had to go on Zoom, go on Google Meet, go on Skype, go on Facetime, go on, go on, go freaking on. Ever try doing your grocery shopping on Zoom? Don’t.

Hey, a lot of bands do whole concerts via these web-based video conferencing apps. That’s largely because, well, there’s no place else to freaking play – everything’s shut down and chances are good that a lot of the rickety establishments that supported plain-clothes bands will have fallen over backwards by the time people feel safe enough to venture out on a Saturday night again. Fortunately, we haven’t had to resort to such tactics. Mind you, I’m not ruling it out, but for the time being, we content ourselves with spending the pennies we make via streaming services on little bits of cheese, crumbs of bread, and a log for the fire. You may ask how we’ve managed to live so extravagantly off of what an indie band can make from web streams. The answer may surprise you. (It certainly would surprise me, because I haven’t the foggiest idea how we do it.)

Like my background?

So yeah, when we need to talk to a promoter or the people who own our squat house, we do the teleconferencing thing. The biggest challenge, from my perspective, is finding a backdrop that faithfully amplifies the kind of image you want to project to the world. For instance, authors often have their books prominently displayed behind them. Representative Lauren Boebert makes sure to have a jumble of assault weapons randomly dumped on a shelf behind her as she speaks. I myself had to think long and hard about what objects would best represent my values to anyone interacting with me over Zoom. I thought maybe a stack of sandwiches, but we don’t have anything like that lying about long enough to make it into the picture. I don’t know – maybe I should go with the Boebert approach, except a little more intimidating than just some poorly maintained long guns. Something that will make my interlocutors thinks TWICE about contradicting me.

Or maybe I should just show them dilapidated interior of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. If that doesn’t scare the hell out of them, nothing will.

Political Rants

Same old.

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It’s late February, nearly a year after the first cases of COVID-19 in the United States, and I and millions of people like me are still standing in the middle of a street, waiting for a truck to strike us down. For those of you who thought everything would change after we got rid of Trump and saw Biden take office, this is not an encouraging time. I know we’re little more than a month into the new administration, but for chrissake, the house is on fire … pull the damn alarm. They’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than this, because this is pathetic. I’m hearing voices within the administration telling us that they’re ramping up production of everything COVID-related via executive order. That’s nice, but where’s the evidence of this? I live in a fairly rural community (a small city), and I notice no change whatsoever, aside from the rhetoric.

Yes, like many Americans, I have not had a COVID vaccine, as I am not yet eligible. I am not over 65 nor do I work in what’s considered a high-risk capacity. But the eligibility barrier is just another way of saying that they just don’t have enough shots. At this point, they should be flooding the zone with vaccines, trying to get as many shots as possible into people. I have heard whispers that they will be expanding eligibility to people in their mid fifties, but there’s no official statement regarding that on the CDC site, New York’s COVID page, nor my local Health Department’s site. And so we wait in this Kafkaesque way until someone tells us its our turn, but that day still seems pretty far off. And it’s not like I can shelter in place into perpetuity – I have to work, and that involves leaving my house on a daily basis (albeit not for the entire day); I have to go to the market from time to time, of course; I have medical appointments that can’t be done virtually. In short, I need the goddamn shot.

I hate to say it, but this is the same pathetic small-bore type of response to enormous problems that we saw in the Obama administration. We need a national mobilization on the scale of the Second World War, quite frankly, as we have lost many more Americans than died on the battlefields of Europe and the Pacific in the 1940s, but I have zero confidence that Biden and his administration have the bottle to follow through with anything of the sort. After forty years of right-wing assault against the very notion of government actively intervening on behalf of ordinary people, we are left with this dysfunctional husk of a federal bureaucracy, straining like a 100-year-old geezer as it attempts to squeeze out a COVID response package that’s months late and about 600 dollars short, per capita.

Let’s prove me wrong on this. Call your senators, your rep, your new President and Vice-President. Tell them to push harder to get this vaccination program moving – July is not nearly soon enough to get shots in everyone’s arms. Let’s do it like our lives depend on it, because they just might.

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.
Usual Rubbish

Red Planet.

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2000 Years to Christmas

Come in, Rangoon … I mean, Marvin. Jesus, this is hard! C-Q, C-Q … Marvin, do you read me? Come in, come up, come over …. come on, man! Hey … is this thing on?

Oh, hi, out there in the land of Big Green listeners, readers, etc. It’s your old friend Joe, locked away here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our longtime squat-house concealed in the forested hills (or hilly forests) of central New York state. An easy place to seclude yourself in … to. No one would ever think of looking for you here. That’s largely because, well … no one ever thinks of looking for anyone or anything here. In fact, most people don’t even know this place exists. (Except for you, of course … because you keep coming back.) What better redoubt in a time of COVID, right? Complete isolation …. the secret to good health. Who knew?

So, what are we about this week? Well … people have to occupy themselves somehow. That applies to everyone – washed out musicians, animated vegetables (mansized tuber), antimatter ex-presidents (anti-Lincoln), and of course, mad scientists (Mitch Macaphee). And it is in the settled order of things that some people’s pass times have a greater effect on those around them than those of their fellow time-passers. So when Mitch knocks about the mill looking for something to do, he’s partly looking for someone to do it to. In this case, it was Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who, I feel it’s important to point out, was created by Mitch in the first place. And if he can create him, he can … well … you know. Do I have to draw you a picture? I do? Damn it!

squx.

All right, so Mitch got a little obsessed this week, watching the goddamned television. They did multiple stories on this Mars Rover “Perseverance” mission, how it was going to land, how risky it was to enter the Martian atmosphere, how forbidding the terrain on the red planet promises to be, etc. Each mention of this NASA mission seemed to make Mitch madder and madder. It was like watching one of those old pressure cookers heat up, the dial on the top flipping over to red, steam pouring out of every join. Anyway, long story short, he decided to stuff Marvin into a makeshift rocket and send him to Mars ahead of the NASA rover. Marvin’s mission: take a selfie with the rover and post it somewhere that NASA scientists could see it, just so that he could rub it in their face that he had gotten there ahead of them. Yep … Mitch seriously wants to own those fuckers, and he’ll do it if it’s the last thing Marvin ever does.

That’s why I’m cranking away at our distressed old ham radio, hoping to raise Marvin’s personal communication channel. (Not that it’s worth much, as Marvin is famously non-verbal.) If I raise him, I’ll let you know.

Political Rants

No shortcut.

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There’s been a lot of push back from the left this week on the Biden Town Hall, and with good reason. While he presents as an affable old grandpa, his conception of policy is locked into the 1990s in a lot of ways. When he thinks he’s leaning to the left, he means the “left” of three decades ago – the liberal cohort that thinks in terms of community policing, mild reforms, drug rehabilitation programs, etc. Whereas even the mainstream Democratic party has moved on from many of these centrist notions of change, the leftward movement appears to have escaped the notice of President Biden. For the time being, he is riding on a wave of relief that Donald Trump is no longer (a) President, (b) in our faces every single day, or (c) on Twitter. I’m sure millions of people are happy that the current president is not ordering an angry racist mob into the Capitol building. But that, while necessary, is of course far from sufficient.

His position on student debt illustrates this insufficiency to a tee. Biden keeps confusing, probably deliberately, the temporary suspension of interest payments (which he has ordered) with elimination of interest on student debt (which he has not ordered). He vaguely promises $10K in debt relief, but both he and his spokesperson keep suggesting that this is something Congress should take up. To be clear, he has the authority to do this himself. And if he can do $10K, he can do more. But Biden seems to think that there’s a fairness issue involved here. He tends to couch it in terms of not wanting rich people to get the benefit, which brings us back to Biden’s (and most centrist Democrats’) preference for “targeted” programs. In other words, we need a new, overly complicated, dedicated administrative infrastructure to achieve the recapture of funds that our already-existing tax system could accomplish with very little adjustment.

Of course, this problem is more about us than it is about Biden. We’ve got Biden as president – and lackluster officeholders all the way down the line – because we didn’t organize enough people and ultimately bring them around to supporting progressive, even radical, change. In a very real sense, we get the politicians we deserve, and we shouldn’t expect better if we’re not doing the hard, long-term work of building change from below. Organizing is about more than electing people, obviously, but one of the by-products of successful organizing is a better grade of politician. I think we’ve seen that in some of the more progressive Congressional candidates, like Rashida Talib, Cory Bush, AOC, and others. I’m pleasantly surprised when candidates of their stripe are successful, largely because I know that in my own area of the country very little organizing is taking place – that’s why we now have the return of our erstwhile Republican Congressmember, Claudia Tenney, who beat out Anthony Brindisi by a mere 109 votes. Brindisi was part of the “problem-solver” conference and there were few Democratic members farther to the right, but in the end it wasn’t enough.

You see, a little more organizing would have given us those 110 votes to return a centrist to Congress. And a lot more organizing might have resulted in sending an actual progressive to Congress, to say nothing of actual mutual aid benefits for the people in our district. So, what are we waiting for?

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.
Usual Rubbish

Frankensong.

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2000 Years to Christmas

I thought you said it was organic. What do you mean “all natural” – that’s a vacuous term. Everything’s natural, goddamn it. Yellow cake uranium is natural, but that doesn’t mean you should serve it at a birthday party.

Cheese and crackers, I don’t know what’s the matter with my squat-mates. They think anything that’s not on fire is good for you, even if it was recently on fire. That’s what happens when you spend the better part of twenty years loitering in an abandoned hammer mill, staying three steps ahead of the property owning capitalists, two steps ahead of the bourgeois lawyers that represent them, and one step ahead of the police that guard their wealth with clubs and guns. It’s kind of like Stockholm syndrome, except that we’ve been taken hostage by our general lack of resources, and my associates are now trying to squeeze every molecule out of the toothpaste tube. (I don’t mean metaphorically – they literally want that last molecule!)

Anyway, they’ve taken to eating GMO rice and GMO corn and whatever else because that’s what’s lying about. Not the best reason to eat something. There are a lot of old hammer heads strewn throughout this mill in various states of corrosive decay – they wouldn’t eat those, would they? (Or WOULD they?) Actually, Anti-Lincoln might sample the hammer heads for some extra iron, but I digress. If I can’t discourage my flop-mates from eating franken-food, then so be it. The trouble is, when you share you place with a mad scientist, the wheels can come off of the lunch cart very easily. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be making muffins out of yellowcake and feeding them to Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who doesn’t have the tools for digesting actual food but seldom refuses a handout from his creator, Mitch Macaphee.

Got any old songs you don't want?

There’s a lot of scavenging going on in this mill. It’s a sign of desperation setting in after months of lockdown, economic hardship, and bad weather. We’ve even taken to plugging together fragments of songs in an effort to make new music out of something that was abandoned months, years, even eons ago. (Well … perhaps not eons. Ages, maybe.) Ah, ’tis an impoverished soul indeed that cannot pull even a slap-dash song out of his or her ass, but such are the times we live in. I’ve got idea tapes lying all over the place. Some of them are incoherent, the product of leaving a cassette machine next to my bed so that if a song comes to me in my sleep I can sing it into the condenser mic and drop back off to dreamland without missing a beat. That almost invariably results in a tape full of drowsy mumbling followed by a respectable snore. Still …. even that can be useful in a mashup, dance mix, whatever. Hey … a frankensong is better than no song at all … or maybe not. IT’S ALIVE!

Official site of the band Big Green