Saturday, March 28, 2009

The Daily Growler Backward Thinking Issue--Tribute to Citizen Kafka

In this issue: thegrowlingwolf's latest growling/a Tribute to Citizen Kafka/and an article from Rolling Stone by Mike Taibbi, a The Daily Growler kind of writer!!!

Onward Christian Soldiers

Listen to the brilliant backward thinking of this little Canadian snit who right now is the hot item on the Christian flim-flam griddle. In talking about how he has been called to go into every country in the world to "preach the Gospel" and how he's just back from a big "miracle service" in Brazil--and, you know, I saw an argument t'other day on the Internet over whether we should spell Brazil with a "z" or an "s" and I'm thinking about how that's backwards thinking, too. Who the hell gives a damn how Brazil is spelled? That's like admitting Brazil is the indigenous name of Brazil (a Portuguese word meaning "ember" because of the Brazilwood tree's red ember-like wood and the red dye you can make from grinding the soft wood into a powder). Anyway, back to this little wanker from Toronto preaching his Gospel to the heathen of Braz(s)il: I decided to see for myself just who the hell the heathen Brazilians really are. The reason for Brazil is due to Christianity. Aha, you say! Yes, the reason for Brazil was not to discover India, as was Chris Colombo's wacky notion as he hit shore in what he thought was India, thus "Indians." On the other hand, Vasco de Gama had already been to India--and he came to South America from a different angle. He saw the Brazilians as savages, nonhuman jungle animals. He heard their many languages as animal gruntings. He spoke Portuguese, which when spoken rapidly probably sounded like monkey chatter to a Native American Brazilians (like on first hearing Vasco de Gama declare them nothing but jungle monkeys).

Portugal at that time thought they ruled the world. They also loved under the ruse of saving their souls enslaving savages. Portugal sits out on this western extension of Europe with Spain up their butt but the open Atlantic Ocean spread out in front of them, toward the west, their way of escape--the same as all migrations that started on the west coasts of Europe--"Go West, young man" even carried over into the White American's way of thinking (backwards thinking?). The sea became their way of possible national salvation, a chance to once and for all bring to reality the many fables, myths, poems, stories about what lay beyond that vast Western horizon, the exotic lands out there and the possessions those lands possibly contained, so they became great ship designers, builders, sailors, navigators, celestial device manufacturers, compass manufacturers and there developed out of all this seaworthy knowledge a profession of explorers, bold venturers who with backing from the Royal High-asses, set sail into the Western Sun! And these bold adventurers with their less-than trustworthy crews carried along with them, for luck and possible need of divine intervention beyond the power of the King's flag, Jesuit priests--aha! Here comes Christianity, Savages! The Jesuits, just like the little wanker from Toronto, were called by their God to spread the Gospel around the world, too! The Gospel to these nutjob backward thinkers was "civilization"--God would turn a savage (an animal really, not considered a human being) from a jungle bunny into a civilized human being, a Christian man, a truly civilized man. Christianity was linked with progress.

And, guess what, Christianity impressed these savages because they had the same legends and heroes in their instinctual thinkings and considerations, in their evolution from their beginning to their becoming nations and societies with languages and cultures and ceremonies and celebrations (feasts)--I mean, all Christianity is is another version of a universal that began with the first unions of monkeys who began calling themselves Hu-mans and setting up the instinctual patterns that have led to this monkey sitting here at this computer in New York City writing out his growlings at the stupidity of the still royal ones of us who have the power to ruin us or rebirth us. Yeah, our African ancestors had a belief in the eternal return--where do you think the Greeks got that idea? Don't you think our original brothers and sisters in Africa originated the idea of eternal life through great beings arising out of their toils and tribulations to lead them to great victories in tribal warfare or defending their territories or their explorers finding new and better territories (ancient explorers) for them to succeed better in--and all of these ancient ones looking for that one mighty one of them who when killed would rise right back up and fight some more or explore some more--human beings involved in evolution and the archetypes that develop as we gallop along, human beings rising to the status of real and imaginary at the same time--even to the point of having shape-shifters and eternal-returning saviors--brought to academic status by the gathering of these knowledges and discoveries in the great library at Timbuktu (there are still books preserved from that library in the now rather desolate city)--then passed on to the Egyptians as they migrated up both arms of the Nile to eventually end in the Valley of the Kings, the Valley of the Nile--Jesus is the Lily of the Valley! Aha! I'm on a roll now, just like a Christian preacher, I'm wild with a spirit within me I certainly called Holy.

I was just curious as to who this little tinhorn Christian magician from Toronto was miraculously SAVING during his triumphant 2-day "miracle service" in Brazil. Oh, he was so trembling with the Holy Spirit pounding him on the back, as he wide-eyed said, "Why, my people, there were literally hundreds of thousands of people who turned out for this miracle service and oh, my people, the thousands upon thousands who were saved, who found Jesus Christ as their personal savior...." Wait a minute, I'm thinking. Jesus Christ, the Brazilians have got to know who the hell Jesus Christ is. They've got a humongous statue of old Jesus towering over Rio de Janiero! There's a church on every corner of Brazil. Of course, the little wanker from Toronto is leading up to his end-of-service move when he opens up his trick bag and has these unsaved savages empty their rather meager purses into his big fat trick bag. "Come on, Jesus wants all your money!" Money! Money! Money!

Whew! I'm winded. I must now recover from a session trying to unravel the many knots backwards thinking leaves in lifelines we need to survive the Chaos we have now created for ourselves, whether through political shenanigans or our own stupidity, a Chaos that would have gladly rejected us if we'd had a true mathematical formula to go by instead of the jumbles of formulae based on ancient instinctively controlled Taos we habitually keep following.
As an interesting aside to the death of The Daily Growler's ryefarmerfromqueens--the day after they laid the old Rye Farmer to earthly rest out in Queens, I'm sorry to say, Citizen Kafka departed the mortal coil--March 14. "Nothing ventured NOTHING gained," as Citizen Kafka often pointed out.

I first heard Sid Kafka (his real name was Richard Shulberg) on New York City's Pacifica station, WBAI, back in the late 1970s. In the 1980s, I met through the Rye Farmer, Pat Conte. Pat was the other Otis Bros.; Pat's also Major Contay of Canebreak Rattlers fame; but Pat's also the curator of the Secret Museum of Mankind--and I had heard of the Secret Museum of Mankind on Citizen Kafka's radio before I met Pat (on my first trip to the Secret Museum of Mankind, Pat's dog went for my throat--scared the hell out of me. Pat shrugged it off, "Must be the cologne you're wearing." I wasn't wearing cologne but it made sense to me, though the dog and I never saw eye to eye after that). Then later in the 1990s, Pat and the Citizen did a Secret Museum show on 'BAI and then even later on WFU or one of those college stations.

So raise one high to Citizen Kafka. He's either living well in the Castle or he's having to go to court again in that Kafkan High off somewhere in the great ethereal. The following is Citizen Kafka's Wikipedia entry:

Citizen Kafka (also known as Sid Kafka and The Citizen) was the stage name of New York-based radio personality and folk musician Richard Shulberg (b. November 20, 1947, Brooklyn, New York, d. March 14, 2009).

Beginning in the late 1970s and continuing through much of the 1990s, Citizen Kafka produced and hosted a number of radio programs on Pacifica Foundation's WBAI-FM in New York, presenting an eclectic range of live and recorded music, comedy and poetry. One such program was the monthly "Citizen Kafka Show", which Kafka co-created in 1979 with then-unknown actor John Goodman and musician Kenny Kosek. The Citizen Kafka Show, which ran during much of the 1980s, featured live improvisational sketch comedy by Goodman and Kosek along with music DJ'd by Kafka.

Kafka later co-hosted a program with Pat Conte called The Secret Museum of the Air, which ran on WBAI from 1990 to 1996. This show presented unusual music from various genres and cultures, most of it recorded before 1948. Kafka and Conte moved the show to WFMU, 91.1 FM in 1997. Archived shows, comprising hundred of hours from The Secret Museum, are available here:

Parallel to his long radio career, Citizen Kafka also performed actively as a bluegrass musician. This included a stint as a leader of perennial New York bluegrass band the Wretched Refuse String Band.


for The Daily Growler

Addendum: Congratulations to Mike Taibbi of Rolling Stone
. He's obviously been reading The Daily Growler--we mean, he's talking about the Power Elite. He's caught on.

It's over — we're officially, royally fucked. No empire can survive being rendered a permanent laughingstock, which is what happened as of a few weeks ago, when the buffoons who have been running things in this country finally went one step too far. It happened when Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner was forced to admit that he was once again going to have to stuff billions of taxpayer dollars into a dying insurance giant called AIG, itself a profound symbol of our national decline — a corporation that got rich insuring the concrete and steel of American industry in the country's heyday, only to destroy itself chasing phantom fortunes at the Wall Street card tables, like a dissolute nobleman gambling away the family estate in the waning days of the British Empire.

Read the rest of Mike's article here:

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