Music of the Day: Randy Brecker, Toe to Toe

I don’t read a publication called “Blender,” (which I thought might be about small kitchen-counter appliances, but apparently not) but I have noticed the last two days that “Blender” and someone by the name of Alicia Keys are in the news. Ms. Keys is, I take it, a pop-star of some kind, a vocalist and pianist whose romantic tunes make her famous in certain circles and, no doubt, wealthy. Good for her; wealth can be a good thing. It seems as if, however, Ms. Keys has become enthralled with her own voice and her own silly thoughts and has taken to expressing them in ways other than lyrical or musical.

Ms. Keys, we are told, has by age 27 read “several” books about such luminaries as Malcolm X and other members of the Black Panther Party. Good for her; reading can be a good thing. Ms. Keys, the news reports tell us, is now convinced, based upon her not-so-extensive reading, that the government encouraged and promoted the proliferation of “gangsta rap” in order to make black people kill each other. Hmmm. I had the notion that gangs existed well before the government came up with the idea of “gangsta rap.”

Ms. Keys, the news reports tell us, now wishes to become more “political,” and has taken to wearing a small AK47 necklace (goes with everything, I bet, including a tiny Kevlar vest) because it symbolizes power and strength. Good for her; guns can be a good thing. Ms. Keys, the news reports tell us, goes a little further with the AK47-thing; not only does it symbolize strength and power, it symbolizes “killin’ ‘em dead.” Hmmm. I wonder who the “them” in “killin’ [them] dead” might be? White folks, maybe? Possibly, since the Black Panthers seemed to be enamored with the idea of killing whitey. Imagine, for just a second, the response a white pop-star might have gotten had he or she made a similar statement that alluded to the killing of blacks—and rightfully so. Will anyone condemn Ms. Keys for expressing this odious notion? Not likely.

I guess all that we can hope for is that Ms. Keys furthers her continuing education program with some additional reading beyond the Black Panthers; let’s hope she isn’t attending the Harry Belafonte School of American History and Politics. And on a positive note, even though her CD’s might sell a million or more copies each, that means that about 298 million other Americans neither know of or care much about what passes for thought in the mind of Ms. Keys. This is as it ought to be. . . .

AJ

TO LIVE IN FREEDOM’S LIGHT IS THE RIGHT OF MANKIND.

Please look at this important piece by Charles Krauthammer.

http://jewishworldreview.com/cols/krauthammer041108.php3

AJ

TO LIVE IN FREEDOM'S LIGHT IS THE RIGHT OF MANKIND.

Music of the Day: Brian Hughes, Here We Go

I see that former president Jimmy Carter, that insufferable windbag, has decided to visit some of his terrorist pals in Syria in the very near future. This is wonderful news and not because I think he'll do any good there--in fact, it seems as if the "visit" would have the effect of further bolstering the political fortunes of murderous thugs. But what else would one expect from the former president who for the last many years has consorted with terrorist thugs of many stripes and who has demonstrated virulent anti-Americanism and anti-Semitism.

What could be good news about this story is that it might give us the chance to change the locks on the place, figuratively. Here's my thought: While JC is over there dining with people who would love to re-create and complete the work of the Holocaust, maybe we could convince Condi Rice, our Secretary of State, to revoke Carter's passport, thus meaning that the peanut farmer from Plains would have to stay in Syria or some other middle eastern paradise. There he could regularly hang out with the mad dogs of Islam and make his anti-American pronouncements at rallies and other government-sponsored gatherings of the insane, leading the chants of "Death to Israel!" and "Death to America!" He would be a busy fellow and would no longer need to swing a hammer building cheap houses; he'd probably get nominated for another Peace Prize and we'd be rid of him, at last.

Before Condi heads back to Stanford, this would be a fitting final act, but I'm guessing it won't happen--this is too bad, as it would be a great service to the nation to have JC far away from here. Maybe we could get somebody in the government to secretly pay the Syrians, or anybody, to keep JC on their soil, but I suspect that after a little while they would ask for more money and, at some point in the not too distant future, they would tell us that we don't have enough money to keep JC in Syria or anywhere else--I'm sure they'd say that it's just not worth the trouble.

AJ

TO LIVE IN FREEDOM'S LIGHT IS THE RIGHT OF MANKIND.

Music of the Day: Pamela Williams, Rise

It might be time to check myself into a rest home or some other institution for the mentally unsound. Hell, it might be PAST time to check myself into a rest home or some other institution for the mentally unsound. Normally my mid-sleep interruptions come about as a result of green chile enchiladas or chorizo or some other dangerous food I’ve ingested, but there’s nothing other than a late evening glass of milk to explain my 3 a.m. maunderings. Just before turning in last night, I decided I ought to have this week’s peanut butter quota; since last spring’s visit to the doctor, and his scare tactics about high blood pressure, I’ve almost completely eliminated peanut butter, my all-time favorite food, from my diet. And I’ve almost completely eliminated milk from my diet, too; as a result, I’ve lost about ten pounds, but like all addicts, I still get the peanut butter jones, so once a week or so I allow myself a PBJ sandwich and a glass of milk. It was the glass of milk that undid my sleep last night; by 3 a.m. the ol’ bladder was ringing up headquarters, demanding relief. Fine. No problem. I’ll just go back to sleep.

Somehow or other last Friday’s conversation during a lull at the slaughterhouse came to mind; a couple of us were sitting around talking about the new Large Hadron Collider (LHC) accelerator that’s being built by CERN (European Organization for Nuclear Research) in Geneva, Switzerland and, naturally enough, that brought the conversation around to the Higgs boson. What can I say—it was a slow morning at the slaughterhouse. Anyway, we got to yakkin’ about the Higgs boson, the so-called “God Particle,” and I was struck by the reaction of one of my co-workers to the Higgs theory.

Honestly, what I know about physics could be written out, longhand, on the back of a postage stamp, which makes our work-place conversation all the more weird. The Higgs boson, in case you forgot (ha!), is a hypothetical massive particle predicted to exist by the Standard Model of particle physics. It is the only Standard Model particle not yet observed, but would help explain how otherwise massless elementary particles still manage to construct mass in matter. Got it? Neither do I.

But back to the story; we were talkin’ about the Higgs theory and one of my co-workers said she thought it was just plain “dumb and silly” to pursue this theory, not seeing any practical value to this particular line of thinking and seeing instead, I think, the expenditure of rather large sums of money (Swiss money or otherwise). Even though I’m not a science guy, it seems to me that the furtherance of scientific knowledge is a good idea, even if it’s expensive and time-consuming; when ol’ Higgs formulated his theory way back in 1964 he probably had no expectation that in his lifetime his theory might be proven true or false. But this is why we write stuff down, so that even if we’re gone, somebody might take what’s written and work with it and perhaps some aspect of human knowledge will be advanced. What’s wrong with that?

So, that is what is rattling around in my brain at three o’clock in the morning and, naturally, my next thought (don’t bother trying to follow the logic here—there isn’t any) goes to the lyric of a song on an old CD entitled Big Noise 2. What’s odd about the lyric is that it is in a language I do not recognize (the group’s name is Africando and the song is entitled Sama Thiel) and which I cannot decipher, but still, the phrase sounds like a repetition of the words “I’m a jelly donut.” You know where I’m going with this now, don’t you? That’s right, I started thinking of John F. Kennedy and his “Ich bin ein Berliner” line in a 1963 speech which, according to legend means “I am a jelly donut,” not Kennedy’s intended meaning, which was “I am a citizen of Berlin.” As it turns out, Kennedy’s phrasing was correct, but his diction might have been off slightly, which may account for the “jelly donut” legend.

And this, good people, is what keeps me awake at night. Bosons, jelly donuts, and a big glass of milk. I wonder if our insurance covers psychological counseling?

AJ

TO LIVE IN FREEDOM’S LIGHT IS THE RIGHT OF MANKIND.

Music of the Day: Joyce Cooling, After Hours

Dinner with Dr. Phil and Debbie and Donna G and BG the other night; excellent lasagna, good wine, some kind of heavenly desert-thingy, and great conversation, stories, and laughter. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday evening; MLB was feeling good enough for us to get off the ranch for a few hours and these four people are such good human beings, and good friends, that despite all our recent travails, we felt uplifted (and a little buzzed) afterwards.

During some portion of the meal, BG mentioned something that we need to remind ourselves of at every opportunity—our political process is often, nasty, ugly, spiteful, sometimes cruel, heartless, sometimes ruthless, craven, low-down, dirty, and nasty (but I already said that). And that’s just the Democrats going at each other’s throats now. Wait until the fur flies after Mr. Obama or Mrs. Clinton gets the nomination—either one will go after Mr. McCain with an eye towards ultimate political destruction. And Mr. McCain, if he is smart, will do the same towards either Mr. Obama or Mrs. Clinton—no holds barred, full-contact, in-your-face politics. Someone will become, in January of next year, the new President of the United States and Mr. George W. Bush will amble back to Texas and cut firewood or write books or something. But, as BG pointed out, whomever wins the election, regardless of the possibly nasty, dirty political tactics employed, the transition from one administration to another will be notable for the absence of one thing—bloodshed. We take this for granted, but not so in many other places around the globe. No matter the level of political recriminations, rhetorical attacks, malicious ads sponsored by surrogates, and so forth, the election and transition will be peaceful. The next time you hear someone complain about the brutal, polarizing nature of American politics, remind them of the obvious fact that we don’t have coups here, or military uprisings, or assassinations to change governments. That’s pretty nice.

Speaking of things political, I almost passed this morning’s Starbucks brew through my nose while reading a story on the Drudge Report about someone named Fifty Cent (sic) and his switch from Mrs. Clinton to Mr. Obama—although that’s not the end of the story. Mr. Cent (or is that, Mr. Fifty?—and by the way, why isn’t it Fifty Cents?) apparently is confused about which candidate to choose, which is interesting because, from my point of view, there isn’t fifty cents worth of difference between the two Democratic candidates, at least not in terms of outlook or policy proposals or prescriptions for the future of this country. Why the confusion, Mr. Cent (or Mr. Fifty)? (Aside—Mr. Cent calls himself “Fiddy,” so maybe that’s what I should call him, too.) Fiddy seems to think that it’s okay if he doesn’t participate because it’s too hard to choose between Mr. Obama and Mrs. Clinton and he sort-of encourages other people of a similar mind-set to opt out of choosing, too. To stick with the whole monetary theme, why not just flip a coin?

The part that really made me laugh, though, was the line about what the folks in the Clinton campaign might do to reclaim Fiddy’s support for the coming nomination fight, as if, I guess, they might think it important to woo the undecided rap-audience vote. Now that’s just plain funny and I have the sense it could only happen in the Democratic party.

AJ

TO LIVE IN FREEDOM’S LIGHT IS THE RIGHT OF MANKIND.