Rowhouse Logic - Breathtaking Inanity

Kurt Vonnegut:

Mary admired the two little girls I’d brought, mixed them in with her own children, sent them all upstairs to play games and watch television. It was only after the children were gone that I sensed that Mary didn’t like me or didn’t like something about the night. She was polite but chilly.

“It’s a nice cozy house you have here,” I said, and it really was.

“I’ve fixed up a place where you can talk and not be bothered,” she said.

“Good,” I said, and I imagined two leather chairs near a fire in a paneled room, where two old soldiers could drink and talk. But she took us into the kitchen. She had put two straight-backed chairs at a kitchen table with a white porcelain top. That table top was screaming with reflected light from a two-hundred-watt bulb overhead. Mary had prepared an operating room. She put only one glass on it, which was for me. She explained that O’Hare couldn’t drink the hard stuff since the war.

So we sat down. O’Hare was embarrassed, but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. I couldn’t imagine what it was about me that could burn up Mary so. I was a family man. I’d been married only once. I wasn’t a drunk. I hadn’t done her husband any dirt in the war.

She fixed herself a Coca-Cola, made a lot of noise banging the ice-cube tray in the stainless steel sink. Then she went into another part of the house. But she wouldn’t sit still. She was moving all over the house, opening and shutting doors, even moving furniture around to work off anger.

I asked O’Hare what I’d said or done to make her act that way.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” That was kind of him. He was lying. It had everything to do with me.

So we tried to ignore Mary and remember the war. I took a couple of belts of the booze I’d brought. We would chuckle or grin sometimes, as though war stories were coming back, but neither one of us could remember anything good. O’Hare remembered one guy who got into a lot of wine in Dresden, before it was bombed, and we had to take him home in a wheelbarrow. It wasn’t much to write a book about. I remembered two Russian soldiers who had looted a clock factory. They had a horse-drawn wagon full of clocks. They were happy and drunk. They were smoking huge cigarettes they had rolled in newspaper.

That was about it for memories, and Mary was still making noise. She finally came out in the kitchen again for another Coke. She took another tray of ice cubes from the refrigerator, banged it in the sink, even though there was already plenty of ice out.

Then she turned to me, let me see how angry she was, and that the anger was for me. She had been talking to herself, so what she said was a fragment of a much larger conversation. “You were just babies then!” she said.

“What?” I said.

“You were just babies in the war — like the ones upstairs!”

I nodded that this was true. We had been foolish virgins in the war, right at the end of childhood.

“But you’re not going to write it that way, are you.” This wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.

“I — I don’t know,” I said.

“Well, I know,” she said. “You’ll pretend you were men instead of babies, and you’ll be played in the movies by Frank Sinatra and John Wayne or some of those other glamorous, war-loving, dirty old men. And war will look just wonderful, so we’ll have a lot more of them. And they’ll be fought by babies like the babies upstairs.”

So then I understood. It was war that made her so angry. She didn’t want her babies or anybody else’s babies killed in wars. And she thought wars were partly encouraged by books and movies.

So I held up my right hand and I made her a promise: “Mary,” I said, “I don’t think this book of mine is ever going to be finished. I must have written five thousand pages by now, and thrown them all away. If I ever do finish it, though, I give you my word of honor: there won’t be a part for Frank Sinatra or John Wayne.

“I tell you what,” I said, “I’ll call it ‘The Children’s Crusade.’ ”

She was my friend after that.

Knoxville Progressive wrote a lovely diary earlier providing links to some of the many resources available to Jazz enthusiasts on the internet. Unlike politics, history, the media, or any of the other subjects I regularly write about, I am actually fairly well qualified to discuss music and music theory in an academic context. Don’t worry, I would never do that to you. Credentials are for the birds. Anyway, I came across the following clip of the Miles Davis Quintet, featuring John Coltrane, playing So What while perusing The Poor Man last night.

This was taped while Davis was recording one of his collaborations with Gil Evans. On You Tube, the broadcast date is given 1958, which would mean that it was recorded during the production of Porgy and Bess. To my ear, however, John Coltrane’s solo sounds like one he would play in late 1959 or early 1960, rather than one he would play in at any time in 1958. Not so small a distinction as you might think. My guess is that this was recorded during the production of Sketches of Spain. The guys standing around with horns doing nothing are members of the Gil Evans Orchestra. I’m sure the actual date of the taping is quite easy to find with 30 seconds of research, but I prefer to engage in wild speculation in order to provide ample ammunition for irate commenters.

For comparison, listen to this version of So What recorded in Stockholm, Sweden on March 22, 1960, and this version recorded during the second set of the same concert. Coltrane’s solo on the is so good it nearly ruined my life, and the second is so good it would have done the same had the first not been around. Whatever. I’ve already cried that river.

You were expecting pandas, weren’t you?

Originaly posted in a rather unpleasant shade of green

Originally published in an awful shade of green. Nobody was interested in it there, so I know nobody will care here. I offer it here only because I seek to aid you in your lifelong quest to find the ultimate shade of boredom.

Chris Cillizza had an interesting post on his blog earlier this afternoon, dealing with a little verbal jousting that took place between Bill Clinton and Guy T. Saperstein at a Democracy Alliance event last weekend. Clinton apparently sent Saperstein a letter of apology afterwards and Cillizza posts Sperstein’s reply, some of which I find quite compelling. Here’s a little, and I’ll put the whole letter after the jump.

I am not suggesting we should judge anyone solely on one vote, but this was the single most important vote anyone currently in Congress ever made and we all will be paying for it for many years, maybe our entire lifetimes. The war has diverted America’s attention from the real war—the fight on terrorism. Who knows what this diversion of our attention and resources ultimately will cost us? It has cost us alliances and caused America’s standing in the world to plummet. It has weakened America’s ability to respond to real national security threats, such as Iran and North Korea—the U.S. and Britain have become, in the words of The Economist, “The Axis of Feeble.” It has depleted our financial resources and made it difficult, if not impossible, in the foreseeable future to address any of America’s serious infrastructure needs—even if Democrats take control of Congress in 2006 and/or the Presidency in 2008. In short, the war has been catastrophic on many fronts. Are voters supposed to forget how we got into this mess, its long-term costs, or not measure leadership by who got it wrong?

No, they aren’t and let’s hope they don’t. The judgement of any elected official who voted in favor of the Joint Resolution to Authorize the Use of United States Armed Forces Against Iraq is highly suspect, to say the least. Indeed, their judgement should be mocked and ridiculed at every opportunity and all of their positions on Iraq, or any other matter of importance, should be considered questionable until proven otherwise. I include the ones who are really very sorry and weepy about their decision and have come to their senses a few years too late. If their decision to support the resolution was in any way influenced by some ass backwards political calculous, dreamt up by morons who thought that authorizing a war would somehow get that very same war off the table prior to the 2002 mid term elections, they don’t belong in public office. If they were too stupid to realize that the resolution would lead war, and that the war it would lead to would be an unmitigated disaster, then they should probably go back to pre-school.

I know I’m throwing a lot of babies out with the bath water, but how a member of Congress voted on that resolution should be at the forefront of any discussion about their reelection, or their desire for a higher office. I do think that vote is a relevant gauge of any politician who participated. We should look at what happened when he or she was presented with a clear choice, whether or not they chose to make one of the worst decisions in modern American history. For a more reasoned argument, have a look at Mr. Saperstein’s letter after the jump.

Read the rest of this entry »

I wonder how many times I’ll feel the need to write a little post like this, just to note that I can’t think of a damn thing to write? I’ve been given a decent sized megaphone to shout through, but I find myself mute and disengaged and unable to construct even mindless meaninglessness, let alone what I try to pass off as coherent thought on a regular basis. Not that it matters. It’s just a moment.

As some of you are aware, Iraq war veteran Patrick Murphy won his primary on Tuesday and will be facing Republican incumbent Congressman Mike Fitzpatrick (PA-08) in November’s general election. Fitzpatrick, who apparently takes his campaign advise from Mean Jean Schmidt, issued this delightful letter of congratulations to Murphy on Tuesday night.

“I’d like to congratulate Pat Murphy on his nomination.”

“The voters now have a clear choice between Pat Murphy, a ‘cut and run’ liberal and me, Mike Fitzpatrick, a proven independent leader who knows we need a new plan for success in Iraq – and calls for an independent commission to develop it – but who won’t risk our families’ security by cutting and running.”

“While I have the deepest respect for Pat’s military service, the conclusion he has drawn from that service is dangerously mistaken. Pat’s youthful call for a precipitous withdrawal is even more extreme than anything called for by Senators John Kerry and Hillary Clinton. We all know that mistakes have been made in this war. But it would be folly to cut and run, and make Iraq a giant terrorist base, allied with Iran, potentially paving the way for a nuclear 9/11. We cannot allow that to happen.”

What a class act. Jean must be proud. Jane thinks that Fitzpatrick sounds like a scared rabbit. That sounds about right, though I’d probably add bed wetter and asshole to the mix as well.

Due to an experimental psychotropic agent added to the water in the Philadelphia area which causes ordinary people to give up on productive activities and become political bloggers at an alarming rate of nearly 200 per day, you’ll likely be reading about this race for months to come, whether you care to or not. We should all be thankful that Fitzpatrick is a tool, because it will be that much more fun to watch him lose, even if you live somwhere with normal water.

(Via Howard)

Originally posted in a nasty shade of green.

A few minutes ago one of the local news shows had a fluffy human interest/health segment on snoring. I wasn’t paying a much attention, but was startled to attention when the reporter said “Chris Baldwin snores. Maybe it’s not loud enough to bring down the house but it is pretty loud.” Well that’s a little strange. I do snore, but why the hell are they talking about it on the news and who let them into the apartment to tape me? I looked on in disbelief, but sure enough, there I was, snoring away and drooling on the pillow. But then it gets even worse. As it turns out I’ve lost all my hair, gained 40 pounds, made some questionable choices about facial hair, and moved to the suburbs. I really didn’t see any of this coming. Damn. Maybe it is time to cut back on the drinking.

As a side note, did I ever mention that Pat Robertson is a fucking loon and an asshole? No. Well he is, but you already knew that. Now that’s all the high minded political analysis I can muster this evening, so have a good night. I’m supposed to be doing this somewhere else anyway.

I could really use a walk.

Hunter S. Thompson:

How many more of these goddam elections are we going to have to write off as lame but ‘regrettably necessary’ holding actions? And how many more of these stinking double-downer sideshows will we have to go through before we can get ourselves straight enough to put together some kind of national election that will give me and the at least 20 million people I tend to agree with a chance to vote for something, instead of always being faced with that old familiar choice between the lesser of two evils? I understand, along with a lot of other people, that the big thing, this year, is Beating Nixon. But that was also the big thing, as I recall, twelve years ago in 1960 - and as far as I can tell, we’ve gone from bad to worse to rotten since then, and the outlook is for more of the same.

Here’s a little portion of the transcript from a Medicare part D promotional event held by the president at a senior center in Sun City, Florida yesterday.

Q Thank you. First, let me say, I think a lot of people will be helped by this program.

THE PRESIDENT: They will –

Q A lot of people will be helped by the Medicare Part D program.

THE PRESIDENT: Oh, thank you.

Q But I think there’s major deficiencies in it that I think we’d like to hear some comments from you on. The first major issue, I think the program is going to be a lot more expensive both to the user and to the taxpayer than it needs to be, because we don’t allow Medicare to negotiate directly with the pharmaceutical companies. This could wind up costing the taxpayers hundreds of billions of dollars over the next 10 years.

Another thing, the insurance companies are allowed to change their formulary once a person is in the program; a person is not allowed to get out until the end of the year. This is a legalized bate-and-switch operation by the insurance companies. How many of them are doing it, I don’t know, but it’s a danger for our seniors.

Third, I have a report here from Families USA indicating that the poorest people that are affected by this program are not being helped.

THE PRESIDENT: Well, I just –

Q Not helped — either they’re not signed up, they’re not being helped compared to the benefits they were getting under a combination of Medicare and Medicaid.

So, finally, I think there are several major changes that should be made in the program. Number one, let Medicare negotiate with the pharmaceutical companies. Number two, stop the formulary switch. If we do that, by reducing the costs, I think we can possibly reduce the size or even eliminate the doughnut hole that people are exposed to.

THE PRESIDENT: Okay, thanks.

Q And I think — (laughter.) One last thing — okay. If we don’t bring our costs down this way, we’re never going to control health care costs in the U.S. And we’re subsidizing the pharmaceutical companies, and we’re subsidizing health costs in every other country around the world because every other country negotiates directly with the pharmaceutical companies. (Applause.)

What the questioner didn’t know is that while he was asking his question, president Bush and his closest advisors were busy creating new realities where carefully screened audience members at promotional events don’t suddenly notice that the president’s policies are all for shit. This one small strand of an old discarded reality may have escaped and found the light of day, but that was was done by design, intended to toy with our tiny minds.

(Via Froomkin)

Also available with a side of frogs.

Su Lin Discovers the joys of a cup while I discover the joys of not blogging.

As I’m sure some of you know, a few of the brave souls who serve in the 101st Fighting Keyboardists have put together a movement to wear the chickenhawk moniker with the pride it so surely deserves. They even have a logo:

It seems they eat chicken for lunch. Bravo!

Well actually, I don’t know how I feel about having chicken for lunch. I’ve always found chicken to be the dullest of all the fowl. Dry, funky and flavorless for the most part. Sure, a good cook can work wonders, but I live life on the go damnit. If fowl is going to be on the lunch menu, it really ought to be the finest of all fowl. If you aren’t a fool, you know I’m talking about duck. Personally, I have duck for lunch at least once a week, as well as two or three times a week for dinner. Ah sweet, fatty, succulent, heavenly duck, how I adore thee. Have chicken for lunch if you like, but don’t be surprised when I call you something quite rude while I’m licking plum sauce and duck fat from my greasy fingers. I digress.

One might be tempted to giggle and dismiss the whole affair as perhaps the worst attempt to turn an insult into a point of pride in modern history, but then it gets just a little worse. It appears that CENTCOM has endorsed the 101st Fighting Keyboardists brave efforts to wage war absent said Keyboardists’participation in the suffering and dying bit.

Captain Ed posts the following email sent to a member of the 101st Fighting Keyboardists, directly from US Central Command:

Hi, Kiril:

I caught your post about the 101st Fighting Keyboardists. Good luck with the project! I’m not sure if you have been to the US Central Command website but we regularly post news, photos, audio and video from Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom. You (and your fellow bloggers) are welcome to use any materials you find on our site. If you’d like to receive the weekly electronic newsletter and monthly Coalition Bulletin, just ask.

If you could add a link to CENTCOM, it’d be appreciated (I’m trying to spread the word about our site!). I’ve attached the CENTCOM logo, should you want to use it with the link. Thanks!

SPC C. Flowers

CENTCOM Public Affairs

As you might imagine, Captain Ed is Pumped:

It’s very gratifying to get this kind of validation for our effort, but I know from our correspondence that Centcom appreciates the support they receive from many people across the blogosphere. I wonder how many will refer to Centcom as chickenhawks? […]

For those who argue that Centcom didn’t endorse this in an official way … well, no kidding. It’s hardly a form letter, either. Did anyone notice where SPC Flowers wrote, “I caught your post about the 101st Fighting Keyboardists. Good luck with the project”? That sounds to me like SPC Flowers appreciates this blogospheric effort to support the mission and the troops. He’s certainly encouraging us to continue it.

I’m glad the good Captain brought up that bit about form letters, because I really hate form letters. It mostly comes in the form of email spam and corporate holiday cards these days, but the form letter is still alive, well and looking for a sucker. Email spam, in particular, is so ubiquitous, and often well crafted, that just wading into your inbox can make it difficult to discern reality from fiction some days. A few weeks ago, my friend Noz was good enough to point out a really nasty bit of spam he received, which clearly targeted horible, stupid, awful, smelly, naive bloggers.

Hi:

I was reading your post about Gen. Abizaid and wanted to let you know that the US Central Command website, http://www.centcom.mil, features news, photos, audio and video from Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom. You’re welcome to use any materials you find on our site. If you’d like to be signed up for the weekly electronic newsletter and monthly Coalition Bulletin, just ask.

If you could add a link to CENTCOM, that would be great (I’m trying to spread the word about our site). Thanks!

SPC C. Flowers
CENTCOM Public Affairs

Snark aside, I’m a little pissed that, to date, PSC C. Flowers hasn’t sent me a damn thing. I don’t admit to it in polite company, but I am a blogger. A smelly one at that. Why the hell hasn’t Flowers asked me to push a little government propaganda? I’m more than just a bit hurt. If PSC Flowers is reading this, he/she should know that I have very few morals and will do just anything if it makes me feel like I’m one of the cool kids. Just throw me a bone babe.

Just to show I’m a good sport and harbor no ill will, I’ll provide the text of the email Flowers should send me, so all that he/she has to do is copy and paste.

Dear Mr. Baldwin [Ed: I’m old school and insist on formalities. Don’t go around saying “Hey Chris!” until you know my ass from a hole in the wall.],

I caught your post about Cat Shit Coffee. Good luck with the liquid feline feces! I’m not sure if you have been to the US Central Command website but we regularly post news, photos, audio and video from Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom. You (and your fellow bloggers) are welcome to use any materials you find on our site. If you’d like to receive the weekly electronic newsletter and monthly Coalition Bulletin, just ask.

If you could add a link to CENTCOM, it’d be appreciated (I’m trying to spread the word about our site!). I’ve attached the CENTCOM logo, should you want to use it with the link. Thanks!

SPC C. Flowers
CENTCOM Public Affairs

I won’t go on because the rest is too awful.

(Via some guy with a broken wrist)

Also available where frogs have no name.

As an exercise in self control, leave aside every other argument against torture, and consider the argument Will Bunch makes this evening, because it’s really quite compelling. I certainly have no inside knowledge on any of this, but Bunch makes the perfectly reasonable argument that some very bad people can’t, or won’t, be tried and convicted because any real trial with real lawyers, judges and jurors would expose some very illegal acts committed by our government, likely destroying the government’s case. I pause a little here, because my faith is cracked and broken when it comes to the potential for public outrage over acts of torture, so that throws a huge wrench in a few of my half formed conclusions.

Nevertheless, this leaves those of us who care about such things, stuck in the often unenviable position of demanding that every human being, no matter how awful, be accorded every right guaranteed them under US and international law. This is not always a popular notion, even the most liberal of America’s enclaves. Some crimes are so awful that it’s hard not to think from the gut. It’s hard not to want retribution. I know. I’ve been there. But that gets to an important point; there is no evil, homicidal bastard exemption in the constitution. There is no gut feeling exemption and there is no right to retribution. Read it over and over, and you’ll never find any of it. The brush used was, quite intentionally, broad. We ignore our basic principals at our own peril. Illegal acts of state breed more of the same, and if Bunch is right, we’ve got one hell of a problem on our hands. I’m likely a fool, but I still hold the belief that the most effective way to investigate, prosecute and detain criminals, even the the really evil bastards, is to adhere to the letter of the law while doing so. Whatever.

Sorry if I’m a little incoherent here. I’m not feeling myself lately and this subject leaves my brain a bucket of slop. Nowhere to go but up, I suppose.

Cross Posted with frogs.

As part of their never ending quest to make my life more oppressive, Matt and Melissa have convinced me to start cross posting some of my posts from Booman here. Since I have nothing to write or cross post right now, that should be a fairly easy task in the near term. If I ever start writing again, then it becomes a nightmare of copying and pasting which requires like four mouse clicks and switching browser tabs. Oh the humanity! Have I ever mentioned that I’m a lazy bastard? Probably. Now have a look at this young woman holding a panda and leave me alone. I have a hangover.

Writer’s block sucks, even if you aren’t a writer. Maybe even a little worse, because you are dealing with some other cat’s block, which sounds a little gross and probably isn’t sanitary. One more thing; the shoes of the fisheman’s wife make some jive ass slippers. Just thought you’d like to know. Carry on.