Prepping for the big one.

Remind me to tell Marvin (my personal robot assistant) not to leave the lights on all night. We’ve got the environment to consider. If we don’t care about mother earth, who the hell will? Besides … they freaking keep me up.

No, not THAT strange ... Oh, yes, my friends. Even here at the Cheney Hammer Mill we are preparing for the impending holiday season. Not without some trepidation, of course. Lord knows this time of year puts people into a kind of feeding frenzy, hyperactive shopping fever, whatever. They lose their reason. They get impatient and even nasty. It’s a rough world out there, man. So why would we add our madness to the pile? No reason. Just looking for a way to keep busy.

So, what are we planning? Nothing much. Another podcast episode. Couple of new recordings. A bag of crisps. Some flashing lights. I don’t know, what do YOU think we should do? We only know how to do one (or two) things. One of them is, well, play strange music. Not Anthony Braxton strange, but strange none the less. Okay, well … as you know, we did a Christmas album once, like …. fifteen years ago. It was called 2000 Years To Christmas. And we’ve written, recorded, and released other Christmas themed songs since then, including a few last year.

This year, we’ve got a few more. All we have to do is get off of our sorry asses and record them. Then write, record, and post a holiday pageant of sorts. Can’t say what the dimensions of said pageant would be, but it should probably be a big one. Should be song and dance numbers. Special guests should drop by unexpectedly, then perform carefully prepared duets with us. Perhaps wearing ridiculous getups and other worldly charm bracelets. They might even bring choruses of singers with them to join in! And presents!

Or maybe not. This is beginning to sound expensive. Which reminds me … did Marvin leave the water on in the mud room? We’re not made of money, you know!

Fighting for air.

Another grand jury delivers yet another unsatisfactory conclusion. Seems like prosecutors now have a workable model for not indicting the proverbial ham sandwich. Convene a grand jury for a specific case. Drop a metric ton of data on them with no clear guidance as to how to make sense of it. Invite the individual against whom charges are being considered to present his case to the jury without pointed cross-examination by prosecutors. Drag it on for an impossibly long time, so that the grand jury is exhausted and only too eager to get back to their lives. Next thing you know, the ham sandwich walks.

#ICantBreatheWhat does this prove other than the well-established fact that powerful institutions will always find innovative ways to protect themselves? Police are the strong arm of the government, which is itself a rough representation of the sentiments of the general population, this being a democracy. For decades, our politicians have built their careers on stoking fears over crime, particularly urban crime perpetrated by “scary black people”. They employ coded versions of racial stereotypes deeply rooted in American society, going back to the arrival of the first African slaves on these shores. Police are the “thin blue line” between scary black people and your white person’s home, your white person’s family, your white person’s privilege.

What did Eric Garner do to warrant being tackled and choked to death by a gang of cops? Was it selling loose cigarettes? I sincerely doubt it. Aside from blackness, what is it that he shared with Michael Brown and so many others? I contend that it is defiance – in Garner’s case in particular, defiance of police authority in the presence of other African Americans. You could say the same for Michael Brown – he wasn’t going to go quietly. If you stand up to injustice, challenge the officer’s right to bend you to his will, you open yourself up to very harsh treatment, to the point of death. Defiance of authority, in my opinion, plays a key role in that decision by Darren Wilson to pull the trigger five more times once Michael Brown had already been shot.

This goes a lot deeper than anything that might be fixed by mounting cameras on police uniforms. A better start might be to put cameras on every black person in America.

luv u,

jp

Roasted.

Mother of pearl. Is that the time? I thought the sun was getting kind of bright in here. Pull the blinds. No blinds? Arrgh. Hang another sheet over the window.

Noodles?Rolled out of bed a little tardy today. Who can blame me? After a gut-full of grub, a man’s thoughts turn to hibernation. Big Green doesn’t ordinarily celebrate major holidays, but we did relent this year and enjoy a modest Thanksgiving feast, prepared by the steady hand of our confidant Anti-Lincoln, who has elected to stay at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill while he considers his next steps. (I think he’s contemplating some brand of global domination, but no details yet. Can’t rush a genius!)

Some of you may recall that Lincoln’s favorite dish was Chicken Fricasee. Well, that obviously meant something to Anti-matter Lincoln, if only in the sense that he wanted to run in the exact opposite direction with his holiday meal plan. What’s the opposite of Chicken Fricasee, you may ask? In anti-Lincoln’s twisted mind, it’s dry noodles with tamari sauce sprinkled lightly over them. I think he dropped a couple of mint leaves in there, but that may have been an accident – we keep the tamari right behind the mint leaves. Coincidence? I don’t think so!

So bloody hell, you never saw a band tear into a plate of noodles like we did last night. And when I say “plate”, I mean one modest plate. Two forks on every noodle. Pretty feisty little dinner, but at least we were together. Stupid togetherness! I think only Marvin (my personal robot assistant) got his fill at our holiday table. And that’s only because he takes his nourishment via two leads from a dry cell under his chair. Note to self: I’ve got to get him another cell for Christmas this year.

No “Black Friday” shopping for us, friends. After that singular repast, we will just stick close to the mill for a couple of days and do a little work on our annual Christmas podcast. I’d tell you what we’re planning, but that would be telling. (It would also require us having planned something, which we most certainly have not.)

Justice be not swift.

Well, the verdict is in. I say “verdict” only because the prosecutor in the Michael Brown shooting investigation presented a trial-like case to the grand jury that included extensive exculpatory evidence, such as hours of testimony from the suspect himself – an approach that even Justice Scalia has considered irregular (though he has not, to my knowledge, commented on this specific case). I say “verdict” because Michael Brown himself was on trial in these grand jury proceedings, much as Trayvon Martin was while his killer, wannabe-cop George Zimmerman, was sitting in the dock without a care in the world.

Mr. Myth Maker.St. Louis County Prosecutor Robert McCulloch ultimately provided the grand jury with a distorted picture of Michael Brown that made him out to be a superhuman, hyper aggressive, predatory cop-hater. Darren Wilson’s description of Brown was surreal and, in my opinion, carefully concocted to create the impression that there was no other way to deal with this young man than with a hail of bullets. Brown’s face was like that of a “demon”; he had the strength of “Hulk Hogan”; while being shot, Brown was “bulking up” so he could somehow charge through the officer’s hysterical gunfire. This is myth making, pure and simple.

But the prosecutor’s office didn’t rely only on distorted racial myths in its quest to avoid an indictment. They also relied on distortions of the law, such as this item (as reported by Bill Moyers):

“[MSNBC host] Lawrence O’Donnell found that just before Darren Wilson testified, “prosecutors gave grand jurors an outdated statute that said police officers can shoot a suspect that’s simply fleeing.” SCOTUS ruled the statute unconstitutional in 1985.

To my mind, the issue that never truly gets examined is the question of whether a police officer is justified in firing that 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th shot, as opposed to shots 1 and 2. What kind of training did Darren Wilson have, that he would feel like a “5 year old” in a tussle with a young man like Brown? What prompted him to unload his handgun into someone who may not have been complying with orders, but who had evidently done nothing to warrant a summary death penalty? One could ask the same question of many other police shooters of young black men over the past … I don’t know … century.

There does appear to be a serious “I am Darren Wilson” movement out there amongst law enforcement. We heard this recently from Utica’s police chief:

“Our justice system is not perfect, but it’s one of the best in the world,” Utica police Chief Mark Williams said. “Whether it’s a police officer or civilian, everybody should be given their due process and justice isn’t always swift. There has to be an investigation, and you just can’t indict somebody just to appease people who have a dislike for police.”

So … are Brown’s mother and father just a couple of people “who have a dislike for police”? True, justice isn’t always swift, but with attitudes like this prevalent in the management of our police departments, it is at a positive standstill.

luv u,

jp

Inside the November podcast.

That was close. No, not the comet – that didn’t end up being close at all. I mean the November podcast. We almost didn’t post before Thanksgiving week, and that would have been a tragedy beyond measure. (Well, beyond my measure, anyway. Not real good at reading the old tragedy yardstick.)

Really big show (or shoe). Anyhow, now that Earth is out of danger (at least from external forces) we can take a few minutes to dissect this month’s episode of THIS IS BIG GREEN, our podcast and the only avenue we have left for artistic expression. (Cue the violins.) So let’s pop open the hood and see what’s inside, shall we? Here goes …

Ned Trek XXI: Old Maple Glory. Our episodes of the space horse-opera Ned Trek are loosely based on installments of classic Star Trek, as you probably know, except that the ship is named the Free Enterprise and it is commanded by Willard Mitt Romney and his talking dressage horse, Mr. Ned. This episode follows The Omega Glory, roughly speaking, with cousin Rick Perry as the renegade commodore who takes over a primitive, divided planet. The precious resource in contention is syrup. Lots of fist fights.

New Songs. Strewn carelessly throughout the Ned Trek episode are rough drafts of new Big Green songs that loosely describe the emotional currents of the program. Most of these have a sixties rock vibe about them; two are positively psychedelic, particularly the Nixon robot song, “Yorba Linda Mybalinda”. Ned’s song “Nobody Ride” is kind of trippy as well. Doc sticks with the sixties rock milieu with “Doc’s Flapjacks”, and Rick Perry does a celebrity comeback number called “Sugar Shack.” Willard Mitt Romney chimes in with “Super Sugar Christ”, a snappy little swing number. Spotlight on Richard Pearle for “Motherlode”, another ode to unbridled greed. We’ve even included a College pep song for Rick Perry entitled “Hi-Yi-Yi-Yi-Yi,” sung a capella.

Old Song. For good measure, we tossed in a replay of our number from last year, “Don’t Tell Rick!” – our frantic plea to the listener of Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick not to blow us in to Governor Perry.

Random Conversation. Our “Put the phone down” segment includes some very impromptu singing, a dissection of the 2014 mid-term election, and other random rants.

So hey … give it a listen, then give us a shout. We always read our email. (Explains a lot.)

Lucy ball.

The president has announced that he’s taking executive action applying prosecutorial discretion to stop mass deportation of undocumented aliens in certain categories. This is the type of action he originally promised to take over the summer, then backed off by request of embattled red-state democrats, like Arkansas Senator Mark Pryor and others. (How did that work out?) Now that the disastrous election of 2014 is over, he is proceeding with the plan in the face of very vocal condemnation by Republicans in Congress and in statehouses across the nation. That, I confess, is an understatement. They, once again, have their hair on fire about this deal.

Meet president Eisenhower.Trouble is, Republicans ALWAYS have their hair on fire. It kind of devalues burning hair. All of this gas about how the president is going to poison the well by acting in this fashion; that Congress is ready to work with the president, but that this will screw it up. Hoo boy. If the president were to take them at their word on this at this point, I would worry for his sanity. They have been like Lucy and the football more times than I can count. Honestly, I don’t know why Republicans don’t like this guy. He’s basically Eisenhower with rhetorical skills. His immigration announcement was full of a lot of “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” clap trap. He’s deported more immigrants than any previous president. Sounds like their type.

Obama led with enforcement, as is the standard practice. The border is mined, folks! He ended with soaring rhetoric about what it means to be an American. In between was a promise not to deport the foreign-born parents of American citizens, as well as other undocumented immigrants who have been here five years or more. Now, why did he not do this before the election? Pryor would have lost anyway … and frankly, was he worth saving? It’s a bit like asking if “saving” Mary Landrieu is worth wrecking the planet with tar sands oil via the Keystone XL pipeline – basically the fuse leading to the climate bomb.

Either way, the Republicans threats against the president have been treated with the contempt they deserve. So one small point for Obama. What’s next, Lucy? The ball’s in your hands.

luv,

jp

THIS IS BIG GREEN: November 2014

Big Green arrives nearly on time with its November installment of pure audio glory, featuring a new episode of Ned Trek, seven new Big Green songs, and some strange hooting noises. Hold tight.

This is Big Green – November 2014. Features: 1) Ned Trek 21: Old Maple Glory, including seven new Big Green songs, listed as follows; 2) Song: Doc Flapjack, by Big Green; 3) Song: Yorba Linda Mybalinda, by Big Green; 4) Song: Sugar Shack, by Big Green; 5) Song: Motherlode, by Big Green; 6) Song: Hi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi, by Big Green; 7) Song: Super Sugar Christ, by Big Green; 8 ) Song: Nobody Ride, by Big Green; 9) Put the Phone Down: Matt and Joe discuss the 2014 election, and get the vapors; 10) A visit with Secretary Kissinger, author; 11) There’s a caveman in my soup; 12) Matt looks forward to hunting season (not); 13) Song: Don’t Tell Rick, by Big Green; 14) Joe’s green screen antics; 15) Ignominious exit.

Posse comet-at-us.

Electrodes to power! Turbines to speed! Hand on the main throttle, Marvin (my personal robot assistant)! Man, that’s hard to say with any urgency.

Never hit nothin' that way.Oh, hi. Caught us in full-on crisis mode here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, as of now Planet Earth’s first line of defense against the menace of stray comets invading the inner rings of our solar system (where most of us reside). Or so it would appear. Seems like the planetary defense systems maintained by major world governments have been caught asleep at the wheel on this one, so bloody hell, it’s up to us to save Earth’s bacon. And its beans. And, of course, its life-giving stilton cheese. I could go on, but again … we’re in CRISIS mode.

You’ve no doubt heard of the dry alien comet named “Comet 67P”? The European Union has just landed a probe on its surface with the intent of drilling into it. My guess is that they’re looking for shale oil, though they vehemently deny that. Anyway, fracking or no, this has surely invoked the comets ire, as we have been reliably informed by our mad science adviser Mitch Macaphee. We had a pretty shrill Skype conversation last night during which he explained the whole thing to yours truly and my fellow Big Green denizens. Something to do with Baratold rays and a slight shift in field density. All the science, I don’t understand! But I must take Mitch’s word for it.

Anywho, the comet is good and angry. Wouldn’t you be, too, if the EU had dropped a probe on you and ordered it to drill into your face? I know I would. Damned annoying. So Comet 67P is intent on crashing into the Earth’s surface – a kind of cosmic “How do you like it?”, I guess. Our only defense against this interstellar suicide bomber? Trevor James Constable’s abandoned Orgone Generating Device. Mitch told us to point the array in the general direction of the approaching comet and crank it up to eleven. Sounds as good a method as any. That’s supposed to counteract the comet manitou and correct the space time continuum … or something. (Mitch was talking fast.)

So, look … if it works, you should be seeing our podcast drop in the next few days. If it doesn’t, well … not to put too fine a point on it, but … likely you won‘t see the podcast drop.

Difference making.

There’s little that can be said about the 2014 election that hasn’t been repeated seventy or eighty times by now. Did we get the Congress we deserve? Perhaps so. It’s the largest Republican majority in the House since the Second World War. So, expect the same — and more of it — as you saw from the present Congress. It also means that Barack Obama will soon be the only thing standing between us and massive cuts in social programs, vastly expanded militarism at home and abroad, and reactionary policies on a range of fronts, from abortion rights to immigration to health care and beyond. That’s where we stand.

Still just a numbers game.At least, that’s what’s left to us after a remarkably lackluster election in which about 37% of the American voting populace voted. That’s the lowest turnout since 1942, and it bears remembering that a lot of voting age men were in he military at the time. So if we can’t summon the will to vote, do we have the right to complain about the outcome? Sure, the Democratic party — including many of last Tuesday’s also-rans — is less than inspiring. But there is a small difference between the parties, and small differences can sometimes have an enormous impact on the nation’s most vulnerable. We owe it to them to go and mark the ballot, even if it means voting for some jerk-ass.

Of course, in my own upstate New York congressional district, our Republican House member ran unopposed. The Democratic party didn’t think the race was worth contesting, probably because our last Democratic congressman, Michael Arcuri, only held the seat for four years (2007-2011), barely winning a second term in 2008 and losing narrowly to Richard Hanna in 2010. Sure, the national Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee probably didn’t want to throw good money after bad, but the upshot is that we had no one to vote for. That was not the case everywhere. In Syracuse, Democrat Dan Maffei lost by close to 20 points to a Republican who pledged independence, moderation, and a commitment to aiding inner city communities.

Bullshit. Maffei’s replacement will vote to make Boehner Speaker once again. That will produce austerian policies that will extend and deepen the misery in Maffei’s district. The only way to avoid that was through voting. If I’m wrong, tell me how, exactly.

luv u,

jp

Next on the list.

Let’s see. Step three hundred seventeen. Plug lead E7 into jack B47. Check. Step three hundred eighteen. Remove cap from light-pipe cable and insert into port F1. Check.

Finished yet? Nearly ready.Oh, my goodness. Didn’t know you were reading this. Bet your eyes are glazing over. I’m just working through the instructions for this do-it-yourself project studio. It came in a big, flat box, some assembly required. In fact, quite a bit of assembly required. That explains the bargain-basement price. That fellow in Bangalore seemed very anxious to unload this little gem. At least he was an engineer – I am, at best, technically challenged, and at worst, a danger to public safety. Have you ever manually wound a transformer before? I know I haven’t.

Typically I would leave such menial tasks to Marvin (my personal robot assistant), but as you may have noticed from the last few postings, he has been making himself quite scarce. Last week he took a trip to Cincinnati to visit the National Museum of Robotics and Animatronics. Didn’t even know such a thing existed. Anyway, he was gone for about five days, came back with a few scratches and a cardboard pirate hat for his trouble. I know … it sounds suspicious to me as well, but there are certain questions you just should never ask of your personal robot assistant.

Why are we building our own studio? Well … the one we have right now is getting a little long in the tooth. I expect you know this, as I’ve mentioned it often enough. Big Green has recorded one album (2000 Years To Christmas) on an eight-track Tascam DTRS system, two albums (International House and Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick) on a Roland VS-2480 with various peripherals. The eight track machine is basically a doorstop. The VS-2480 is 13 years old and is not well. It’s choked with projects and has no practical means of exporting data. We are still recording on that system, but just around the edges … gently, gently. Hence … the do it yourself studio. Either that or a Kickstarter Campaign. Still scratching our heads on that.

Head scratching, step three: Press nail of index finger on scalp and move finger back-and-forth.

Official site of the band Big Green