Saturday, December 31, 2016

We'll take a cup of kindness yet

Sometimes, it all works out in the end


It's easy, as 2016 comes to a bittersweet end, to be a bit pessimistic about our future, both as individuals and as a nation.  We've just elected a cretin who has not the the intelligence, temperament, experience, or humanity for the job to be our next President.  Democrats lost an imminently winnable chance to regain control of the Senate.  It's possible that a foreign country, Russia, directly interfered in our election and our national media is too happy with its Trump ratings to care much, and republicans, assholes that they are, are fucking proud of it.  We're about to say goodbye to arguably one of the five greatest Presidents this nation has ever seen, a man of integrity, compassion, and wit who bailed this nation out (Thank you, President Obama) in one of its darkest hours who will now have to sit idly by and watch his tremendous legacy be left in tatters.  Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, Food Stamps, and many other of our social safety net programs may be torn asunder as republicans give away even more of our country to the wealthy, who already have so much more than many of them deserve.  The rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer...

And yet...and yet...

Much like It's a Wonderful Life there is every bit as much of a chance that the calamity before us will bring out the best in all of us.  Donald Trump could very well turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to the Democratic Party.  After he's done giving even more to those who have more than enough, maybe more and more Americans will wake up to the fact that so many of the wealthy really aren't that bright and really don't give two shits about the rest of us.  And that, while government has its faults, the problem is really a greedy and hedonistic Corporate America.  And it's entirely possible in four years that we could flip a few thousand votes in a handful of states and take back all three branches of our government, and be the ones who really drain the swamp, and make America once again a nation that works best for its poor, its working class, and its middle class.

Shortly before my father died, as he was in the final throes of lung cancer, I was going through a difficult period in my life, and being the clueless asshole I was, I was complaining to my father, he with the puffy jowls and peach fuzz gray hair atop his shiny head from chemotherapy and a few mere months to live, about how hopeless it all seemed. And my father, a man who was never much like me, a staunch republican and a man who saw the world in black and white, but always loved me anyway, gave me his final gift, when he said to me, "Never stop believing that one man can make a difference."

I intend to spend the next year proving that I haven't stopped believing.

And as the song says, maybe eventually "...We'll take a cup of kindness yet/For auld lang syne..."

Fuck Donald Trump,
And have a Happy New Year,
emaycee

Friday, December 30, 2016

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CV--Jackson Browne: Doctor My Eyes

In a somewhat fitting end to 2016 here on FNJ, we're featuring a tune about a world weary man who's questioning just what the fuck it is that he's witnessed so far in this goofy old world--and much like most of us heading into 2017, the song ends with much uncertainty and no easy resolution.

Happy fucking New Year!

Jackson Browne was part of the vaunted L.A. music scene of the 70's, joining with the likes of Joni Mitchell, The Eagles, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Linda Ronstadt, and Warren Zevon to form a veritable Who's Who of 70's pop.  Browne went on to somewhat quietly put together a hell of a career--selling 18 million albums, having a couple of top ten singles, a number one album, and being inducted into both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Songwriter's Hall of Fame.  Along the way, Browne also released one of the most novel albums ever--1977's Running on Empty  is a collection of all new material that was recorded while on tour:  in hotel rooms, on the tour bus, and in concert (it's really a hell of a record, too).  Sadly, Browne's life has not been without tragedy--his first wife committed suicide less than a year after their marriage, leaving Browne to raise their two-year-old son alone.  But Browne, in his own understated way, has persevered.

Browne is also known as a political activist (especially when it comes to the environment and nuclear power) and is a long time supporter of the Democratic Party and its causes.  Bravo, Mr. Browne!

Released on his aptly titled debut LP, Jackson Browne, in 1972 , "Doctor My Eyes" would become the first hit single of Browne's career, reaching #8 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100.  Only twenty-four when he wrote it, the song shows both a subtlety and  a worldly wise weariness beyond his years.  Oddly, though the song is pessimistic by nature, it is somewhat musically upbeat, featuring a jaunty piano and some dandy guitar work that compliments the piano well.  Browne's vocals are subdued (as, truthfully, they are in much of his work) but earnest, and while such a style wouldn't work for say, Bruce Springsteen, it suits Browne and "Doctor My Eyes" well.  In the end, it's another song that sounds just as good every time I hear it today as it did every time I heard it when I was still a teenager--though its context, like me, has changed greatly over the years.

Liner notes:  "People go just where they will/I never noticed them until I got this feeling/That it's later than it seems...."

Enjoy:



Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Friday, December 23, 2016

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CIV--Counting Crows: A Long December

As we near the end of a not particularly good year (Hillary, Hillary, Hillary...and the Senate, too and that's not even counting the personal ups and downs), we're featuring a song about a not particularly good year but one in which, like 2016, there is still  "reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last."  Plus we're like two days from Christmas--gotta offer something hopeful....

Counting Crows were formed in Berkley, CA in 1991 by songwriter and pianist Adam Duritz and guitarist David Bryson (the only two constants in the band's 25 years, though several members have been around for most of the ride).  While they've had a good deal of success with their studio releases, most of it came very early in their career and they've only released 7 studio albums in that time (with sales of over 20 million and counting).  Counting Crows are known for their live performances, and have toured virtually constantly since their formation.  There's not a lot of glory there (though they have been nominated for an Academy Award for best song, "Accidentally in Love" from Shrek 2, which, truth be told, is not one of their better efforts), but if they're still selling records and performing this far down the road, they most certainly must have done something right.  And I have to admit that though they'd never make my top twenty-five favorite bands, I've always had a bit of a sneaking kindness for them and enjoy listening to their greatest hits now and again and again.

While "Mr. Jones" is by far and away their best known and most played song (and a fine tune it is), there's a subtle beauty to the way Duritz melds sorrow to hope in "A Long December" (released in 1996 on their Recovering the Satellites  LP--reached #6, with a bullet!on the Billboard Hot 100).  Duritz has said the song is about a particularly difficult time in his life, when a friend was seriously injured after being hit by a car combined with the stress of trying to make another hit album after the success of their debut, but I've always thought the song epitomized the existential juxtaposition of finding that sliver of hope while still in the throes of depression. There's a wonderful line in the song where Duritz sings "...And the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters but no pearls/All at once you look across a crowded room/To see the way that light attaches to a girl..." and in those three lines are all the hope and possibility you need.  The song is driven by a catchy and stark piano, some seriously honest vocals by Duritz, a nice, though uncomplicated, guitar solo midway through, and closes with a minute or so of "Da da da das" which are interspersed nicely with some well-timed "yeahs."

Ain't it the truth, dept.:  "...It's been so long since I've seen the ocean...I guess I should..."

Enjoy:




Fuck Donald Trump,
But have a happy holiday anyway...
emaycee

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Welcome to the madhouse

It's a madhouse, a madhouse!

While I'm one of the few Liberals/Democrats/Progressives who was not disappointed by yesterday's Electoral College charade (I think choosing Hillary Clinton would have set a dangerous precedent, and don't forget that in 2004 had 80,000 voters flipped in Ohio that John Kerry--mercifully--would have been President despite losing the popular vote by better than 3 million votes)--though it might have been fun to watch millions of republicans' heads implode--I still think we are in extremely dangerous times and are being led by a man whose grasp on reality is tenuous at best.  To wit:

Alex Jones, the batshit insane right wing radio host, this week said that Hillary Clinton has personally murdered, chopped up, and raped children.  And while you're digesting that utter lunacy, keep in mind that after his electoral college victory, Trump personally called and thanked Jones and vowed to reappear on his radio show.

I'm not sure if I should be completely embarrassed to have such an idiot as our leader or utterly terrified that such an idiot has his finger on the nuclear trigger.

Either way, it's going to be a very fucking long four years.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Yes, Massah

The ideal workforce, to republicans

In his continuing effort to sell out our institutions and the very souls of America's citizens to Corporate America, Donald Trump has chosen Andrew Puzder, CEO of exquisite cuisine providers Hardee's and Carl's Jr., to be the Secretary of Labor.  For those not familiar, Puzder is a man who:

  • Vehemently opposes the Fight for $15
  • Wants to repeal Obamacare, which is the only way the folks who keep his restaurants in business can afford healthcare
  • Opposes the Obama administrations new overtime rule because in some alternate universe his "managers" would prefer to have a job title rather than the income 
  • Oversaw a chain in which 60 percent of their restaurants have been found to be in violation of labor standards
  • Has zero governmental experience
On the bright side, though, we're one step closer to the torches and pitchforks going medieval on the rich folks asses....

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday, December 16, 2016

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CIII--John Prine: Sam Stone

Fans of Friday Night Jukebox (all three of you) may remember that Christmas fell on a Friday last year, and as such, our featured tune was "Christmas in Prison" by one John Prine.  And where I noted that song was one of the most hopeful songs I'd ever heard, this week's tune, "Sam Stone," is one of the saddest.  In fact, in 2008 it was voted #8 in a Rolling Stone poll of the ten saddest songs of all-time.

Merry Christmas!

Anyhoo, since we've already done the half-assed John Prine bio. we can do a condensed version for those not familiar.  Discovered in 1971 by Kris Kristofferson, Prine has been recording and touring now for forty-five years, has never had an album chart higher than #55, has no Billboard Hot 100 singles, and has remained one of music's truly great unknown talents and songwriters to most of the general public.  Still, he has won a Grammy Award for best folks album (The Missing Years), and counts Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Roger Waters, and the aforementioned Kristofferson (among many, many others) as fellow artists who consider him one of the best songwriters in American folk music history.

Released in 1971 on his aptly titled debut LP, John Prine (#452 on Rolling Stone's Five Hundred Greatest Albums of All-Time), "Sam Stone" is the tale of a war veteran (though it's never mentioned specifically, due to the date of release it's popularly assumed that Sam Stone fought in Vietnam) who comes home with a significant drug addiction (again, not noted but assumed to be heroin).  Prine chronicles his and his family's struggles with as much compassion as you'll ever hear in a pop song, and has as memorable of a chorus as you'll ever remember, especially the first two lines:  "There's a hole in Daddy's arm where all the money goes/Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose...."  Complimented by a funereal organ (either a church or a funeral home, you decide), a lightly picked acoustic guitar, and Prine's gift for turning a phrase, "Sam Stone" takes us though Stone's crumbling life, and unlike most songs, there is no happy ending or moral to the story:  Stone O.D.s alone and his family is left to trade his house for his burial.  It's a vivid portrait, sung with empathy but not pity, and a fine addition as song #103 on this musical journey.

Lyric sheet (this is one of my favorite lines ever written, not just musically, but in every form the written word has ever taken):  "Sam Stone was alone/When he popped his last balloon/Climbing walls while sitting in a chair...."

Enjoy:




Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Absolutely un-American

A paragon of today's republican party

 The second most important story in America right now (the first being the Vladimir Putin lead Russian hacks that influenced our election) is what's happening in North Carolina--where the republican party is working overtime to pass legislation to usurp the will of the people by stripping powers from the newly elected Governor (Roy Cooper--who just happens to be a Democrat) and the State Supreme Court (which the Democrats just happened to win the majority in last November's election), and giving said powers to the republican controlled legislature and republican controlled lower courts.

As if it's not bad enough that republicans are more than happy to let a foreign nation dictate our elections, they are now willing to overturn the will of the voting public in their never ending grab for power.

I say this without the slightest hint of hyperbole--these actions are the most un-American, unpatriotic, and treasonous we've seen since Benedict Arnold sold his soul to the Redcoats.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee


Wednesday, December 14, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Twelfth Day


Power to the people, right on...


On the twelfth and final day of Christmas:

I'm with this guy--despite the peace sign above, anyone who thinks we're going to win the soul of America by holding hands and singing "Kumbaya" while planting a tree is seriously deluding himself.  It's time for an all out war with President Oompa Loompa and his republican minions:

  • Per Kos:  Trump is illegitimate so sing it from the rooftops.
  • Meet our new best friend, Mr. Phil A. Buster.  We need to filibuster, filibuster, and filibuster some more until republicans nuke it (likely) or quit (not)--and if they nuke it, then they own every shit piece of legislation they ram through.
  • What this guy says:  Maryland congressman Jamie Raskin, "We're not letting any prepped-out Harvard Business School neo-Nazi strategize us into becoming Germany 1933 and we will not let a cabinet of robber barons and white nationalists destroy everything the civilizing movements of the last century created."  More candidates like this for us, please!
  • Hold Democrats feet to the fire--when Chuck Schumer tells republicans to make our day by attacking Medicare make certain that he's not only talking the talk, but walking the walk, too.
In the words of Thunderclap Newman,

               Hand out the arms and ammo
               We're going to blast our way through here
               We've got to get together sooner or later
               Because the revolution's here, and you know it's right
               And you know that it's right...

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee


Tuesday, December 13, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Eleventh Day

Electoral College Winner Donald J. Trump

On the eleventh day of Christmas:

Barring a drastic change of heart from the American people, Donald Trump will enter office next month as the most unpopular President-elect in history.  As of this month, Trump's unfavorable rating is at 58 percent; his favorable rating is at a paltry 37%.  Which leaves him at a negative 21--ratings that are just slightly north of the favorability  rating of the guy who farted on the crowded elevator, vis a vis his fellow passengers.

 And since a solid majority of Americans are opposed to Donald Trump, it follows that a solid majority of Americans are going to be opposed to his policies as well.   Thus our mantra must be oppose everything, oppose everything, and once more with feeling, oppose everything...because it's good politics to give the American people what they want.

And we must remain vigilant in our reminders of just how despised President Oompa Loompa is--contrary to what the national media and republicans (and even some seriously misguided Democrats) would have you believe, Ronald Reagan was not that popular as President.  This is a convenient myth to try to justify the ravages of the Reagan devolution.  It's taken us a generation to repair that damage--no sense in wasting another generation on another bozo.

Out attitude toward President Oompa Loopa should be, in the words of Bob Dylan, "...You're an idiot babe/It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee



Monday, December 12, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Tenth Day

Burn, baby, burn

On the tenth day of Christmas:

Over the course of the next four years, we need to continually call out the bigotry of the republican party and President Oompa Loompa.  From voter suppression to white nationalists to neo-Nazis like Steve Bannon to Donald Trump thanking African-Americans for not turning out to vote (or being prohibited or discouraged by all the hoops they had to jump through) never let the American people, the American media, or Democratic supporters forget that the republican party is a party built on hatred of people merely for the color of their skin.

Period.

In the words of Three Dog Night, "...A child is black, a child is white/The whole world looks upon the sight, a beautiful sight...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Sunday, December 11, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Ninth Day

If they break it, they bought it

On the ninth day of Christmas:

No matter what republicans do--repeal Obamacare, slash Social Security and raise the retirement age, give even more tax breaks to the wealthy, privatize Medicare, fellate Wall Street and Corporate America--it is vital that we make sure that they fucking own it.  Democrats have spent the better part of the last ninety years crafting programs and legislation that empowers people and lifts them up.  If republicans are intent on dismantling the Social Safety Net and making the rich even richer as part of their survival of the fittest in Dystopia, U.S.A. campaign, then we need to make sure that everyone knows it was republicans who oversaw and caused the ensuing train wreck.

In the words of Bruce Springsteen, "...Wherever this flag's flown/We take care of our own...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Saturday, December 10, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Eighth Day

De-legitimatize, De-legitimatize...

On the eighth day of Christmas:

Anybody else out there just a teensy bit curious why Michigan republicans sued to end the election recount because there was no voter fraud but are now trying to pass three voter suppression bills because of voter fraud?  Anybody out there just a teensy bit doubtful of the Trump campaign's motive in vociferously denouncing all of the recount efforts?  Anybody else wondering exactly what it is the CIA knows about Russian interference in our election that the Trump people are so afraid of the American people knowing about?

In the end, it might just end up being so much bluster (or not) but the questions are real, they're valid, and, as an added bonus, they further serve to de-legitimatize the Trump presidency.  In the end, the questions about where President Obama was born or whether or not he was a Muslim proved to be a whole lot of nothing, but it didn't stop the press from covering it and it didn't stop the Obama administration from having to answer questions about them.  And we should be more than happy to return the favor.

Welcome to our fucking world, republicans!

Never let anyone forget that Trump got slaughtered in the popular vote and that there are all kinds of doubts about the legitimacy of his electoral college "victory."

In the words of The Call, "...I don't think there are any Russians/And there ain't no Yanks/Just corporate criminals/Playin' with tanks...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday, December 9, 2016

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CII--Steely Dan: Turn That Heartbeat Over Again

One of the reasons I started Friday Night Jukebox was for songs like this week's tune--songs that weren't hit singles but were often diamonds in the rough (and just as often more enjoyable listening than the actual hits).  And while their debut album featured two delightful top twenty singles (" Do It Again" and "Reelin' in the Years"), I also don't think it was an accident that this week's song was the closing piece on said album.

Steely Dan is, more or less, the brainchild and band of Walter Becker and Donald Fagen who are the only two constants in the band since its formation in 1972.  Since its first couple of albums, Steely
Dan has used a slew of session musicians to record the nine studio albums they've released over the course of the last 44 years.  Their heyday was from 1972 until their breakup in 1981 (during which time they released seven of their albums) and were a constant on AM and FM radio with numerous top 40 hits and a devoted following.  They reunited in 1993.  Through the years they've won a Grammy Award for album of the year, sold millions of records, and were eventually elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2001.  And they've always been an oddity for me personally, as their sound, especially as time wore on was heavily influenced by jazz and I've never been much of a devotee of jazz (that's not a denigration--jazz just never moved me the way it moves others).

And it may also explain that, while I've loved several of their LPs, their first is still my favorite, and is by far and away the most pop and rock oriented record of their career.  Well, that and the fact that Becker and Fagen have quite the knack for catchy tunes and clever and oh, so subtle lyrics.

If you're a child of the 70's, as am I, you'll know that all the cool kids (or at least those of us who liked to pretend we were cool), knew of and listened regularly to Can't Buy a Thrill  (title borrowed from the first line of Dylan's "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry")--the album itself was a trip into Coolsville (and was ranked #238 on Rolling Stone's five hundred best albums of all-time).  It's one of those rare albums that has nary a bad tune, several great ones, and none more enjoyable than "Turn That Heartbeat Over Again."  It's also notable as the only Steely Dan song where Becker and Fagen traded lead vocals in the same song.

Near as I can tell, the song is an allegory of sorts. featuring chastising vignettes concerning a stick-up man, drug running, and the evils of too much drink, and yet stuffed in between these sad tales, is one of the most hopeful (and catchy) choruses ever which concludes with the plea to "turn that heartbeat over again."  I'm not really certain if that heartbeat is the one when you meet that special him or her or the heartbeat when your favorite team wins the World Series or the heartbeat of watching your child be born or grow or even the heartbeat of listening to a really good song, but I'm pretty certain that turning any one of them over again would be a most delightful experience.  The song also features a nice instrumental break in the middle with a fine guitar solo from Jeff "Skunk" Baxter.  And for those having their doubts, this was one of the first songs I downloaded after the Beautiful Girl brought the wonders of the digital age into our first apartment together, and I happened to notice that after about a month the Beautiful Girl, who didn't know Steely Dan from the Man of Steel, had added "Turn That Heartbeat Over Again" to her favorites....

Liner notes:  "Love your mama, love your brother/Love 'em till they run for cover...."

Enjoy:




Peace,
emaycee

Thursday, December 8, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Seventh Day

Fuckin' A...
On the seventh day of Christmas:

When Liberal stalwart Xavier Becerra announced he was leaving the House of Representatives to become Attorney General of the state of California, there was some head scratching among the Democratic base...until Becerra made it perfectly clear that he was taking the position to act as the first line of defense against President Oompa Loompa and his republican minions.  Litigate their legislation, litigate their legislation--just like republican Attorney Generals did to President Obama these past eight years.  We can stymie a lot, especially considering that New York Attorney General Eric Schneiderman has already plenty of experience fucking with republicans and that would give us two of the three most populous states in the union giving a big fuck you to Ooompa and his boys.

In the words of Patti Smith, "...And the people have the power/To redeem the work of fools...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Sixth Day

Stick with the unions...

On the sixth day of Christmas:

Three weeks after the election of Hitler, thousands of low wage workers across America struck yet again for the right to unionize, better benefits, and $15 an hour.  Hundreds were arrested.  And it just goes to show that like the U.S. Postal Service, neither rain nor snow nor heat nor the election of a greedy, worker hating fuckwad can stop good folks from working together for the economic betterment of millions of other good folks.

So fuck their right to work for less laws, fuck their Wall Street Cabinet members, and fuck their fealty to Corporate America:  in the words of Woody Guthrie, "...Oh, you can't scare me, I'm sticking to the union/I'm sticking to the union, till the day I die...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Fifth Day

Resist the juggernaut


On the fifth day of Christmas:

As advocated by Markos Moulitsas, we block everything and legitimize nothing--every cabinet member, every policy, every budget, every bill enacted, every proposal.  God knows it didn't hurt republicans to stop the will of the American people.

Just because we lost doesn't mean we're wrong about the best way forward for America.

And in the words to Chumbawamba, "I get knocked down/But I get up again/You're never gonna keep me down...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Monday, December 5, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Fourth Day

The back of the bus just won't do

On the fourth day of Christmas:

Politeness and acquiescence are history.  Know a Trump voter?  Then you know a racist, a misogynist, and a homophobe--friend, family, boss, no matter.  End of story.  Don't let the comment or aside slide--speak your piece.  It's as patriotic as you can get.

This short video from Tess Rafferty really says it all (transcript here for those of you who are like me and read better than you watch):




In the words of Helen Reddy, "I am woman, hear me roar...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Sunday, December 4, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Third Day

Kick ass now and take names later

On the third day of Christmas:

Per Elizabeth Warren, never lose sight--and never let anyone forget-- of the fact that we won the most votes for the President and the Senate and we have a mandate to oppose Trump.  His election was a fluke and our Senate candidates garnered 7 million more votes than republican candidates.  Democrats have been sent back to Washington to fight for the policies and programs that a majority of Americans want,

And in the words of Billy Bragg, remember that "The Revolution is just a t-shirt away..."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Saturday, December 3, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The Second Day

Just say no to Trump

On the second day of Christmas (we're not counting Fridays...):

Per Charles M. Blow of The New York Times, under no circumstances do we forget how Trump ran his campaign, his words and deeds, his threats, his bigotry, his misogyny, his hatred for women, ad infinitum.  He may be President, but that doesn't mean we have to kiss and make up.  He is not a good man, he is not a good role model for our children, and he should be treated with disdain at every turn.

In the words of Ceelo Green, "Fuck you..."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday, December 2, 2016

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CI--Sufjan Stevens: Casimir Pulaski Day

For those not familiar, every year on March 1st, school children in Illinois are the only ones in the nation to get the school day off--for Casimir Pulaski Day.  Also for those not familiar, Casimir Pulaski was a Polish born Revolutionary War hero (he's known as one of the fathers of the American cavalry) who died in battle in 1779.  And finally for those not familiar, Casimir Pulaski Day was basically a sop to Chicago's large Polish population.  Nothing wrong with that--my two oldest children had twelve March 1st's off from school each and, surprisingly enough, I never once heard either of them complain about it.

And on to Sufjan Stevens...sort of.  Near as I can tell, Stevens's career has been nothing if not eclectic and esoteric (add in ethereal and you have my three favorite words beginning with the letter "E"), and not terribly interesting (truth be told I only made it about halfway through his Wikipedia entry--it was truly that boring).  Suffice it to say, he's been around since 1999, has released 7 studio albums, tours fairly regularly, and if he had never released Come on Feel the Illinoise (which is actually called Illinois with the subtitle Sufjan Stevens Invites You to Come on Feel the Illinoise  but I call it Come on Feel the Illinoise because I like the play on words with the Slade/Quiet Riot song "Cum on Feel the Noize" even if it isn't a particularly good song) there's about zero chance he would have ended up on Friday Night Jukebox.

As can be said for several other artists who have appeared in the first 100 posts.

Having lived in Illinois for nineteen years, Illinois (released in 2005) hits home in ways that it might not for many who never lived there--I think the only two people I know who have ever heard of Stevens or the album are my two oldest kids, who spent the majority of those nineteen years with me in the Land of Lincoln.  The album is by far and away Stevens's biggest hit, and it sold a whopping 300,000 copies, which in fairness, is 300,000 more copies sold than any album I ever released.  Still, it is a very fine album and would probably make my top ten of the 2000's.  Despite being largely about the state of Illinois (Stevens also released an album with the theme of the state of Michigan and at one time claimed he was going to write one for each state but later admitted it was nothing more than a publicity gimmick), I think each song could stand alone quite nicely.  And none more so than "Casimir Pulaski Day."

"Casimir Pulaski Day" is told through the eyes of a religious boy, who has a religious girlfriend from a religious family, their sexual awakening, her father's disapproval, and ultimately her death from bone cancer on "the first of March, on the holiday," which leads to his questioning his faith.  It may well be the most poignant song I've ever heard--Stevens vocals are almost matter-of-fact, hardly above a whisper, and yet they convey the protagonist's pain and sorrow all too clearly.  The instrumentation, to me, is almost miraculous--Stevens starts with, as you might expect, an acoustic guitar, but about a minute and a half in he adds a banjo which is not an instrument one normally associates with poignancy and sadness but after listening you will--it adds another layer of texture to the song's mournful underpinnings .  He also throws in some of the most sorrowful trumpets you will ever hear, and closes the last minute or so of the song with some choirlike "da da dadas."  Add in some wise and heartfelt lyrics and you have a song that is, appropriately enough considering the subject matter, funereal.  And unlike all too many songs focusing on a loved one's dying too soon, the song never gets maudlin.  It's a paean to love:  all its excitement, all its fears, and most of all, its biggest heartbreak.

Lyric sheet:  "All the glory when he took our place/But he took my shoulders and he shook my face/And he takes and he takes and he takes..."

Enjoy:




Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Thursday, December 1, 2016

The Twelve Dissents of Christmas: The First Day

Never stop fighting

On the first day of Christmas:

Masha Gessen, who has lived under autocracy most of his life and has written extensively about the Russian pig Vladimir Putin, wrote this piece in the aftermath of Trumps electoral college victory, and in a nutshell says fuck Obama's conciliatory tone and fuck Hillary Clinton's far too nice concession speech because we are in a world of shit.

His six rules for surviving Trump (condensed by me):

  1. Believe--no matter how insane--what Trump says.  He is going to do it.
  2. Do not believe that any of this is normal, no matter how mundane.  It is not.
  3. Congress, the Supreme Court, the Media, the military, and any other U.S. institution that you've believed in your whole life will not save you.  They will fall in line.
  4. Be pissed off.  And stay that way.
  5. Do not fucking compromise.  Ever.
  6. Always remember, no matter the disaster, that there is a future.  Things will change.
In the words of Lou Reed ("Legendary Hearts"), "...You've got to fight to make what's right...."

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee