thegrowlingwolf Pissing Against the Wall

December 7 was the 69th Anniversary of the Japanese Attack on Pearl Harbor --that "Day of Infamy" that led the US into WWII; yet, I don't recall seeing it even mentioned on the news--not even Amy Goodman noted it. However, the day that American gun-toting loony shot John Lennon was highly advertised in every media--with Yoko "Joko" Ono reenergizing her celebrity by shedding a few crocodile tears over her late naive husband and gathering a bunch of Baby Boomers out at Strawberry Fields in New Yorkers's Central Park--why not name it Lee Morgan Fields? Lee was murdered by his wife Helen while on a break during a gig at Slug's...oh, I'm sorry, Lee was an American Music creator and not an American Music copycat [NOTE: if you click on this text you get the photo below enlarged is all]Foto by tgw, New York City, November 2010
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Anybody Who Knows "Moody's Mood for Love" Is Sad Today--James Moody's Left Us:
James Moody, 85, American jazz saxophone and flute player There is wrong info in Moody's Wikipedia entry: like Kenny Barron didn't play piano with Dizzy Gillespie in 1946--Kenny was born about that time; Kenny did, however, play piano with Dizzy's Quintet that included James Moody in 1964-65.  He replaced Junior Mance in the group.  I was at the first integrated nightclub performance in New Orleans at Al Hirt's Club in 1965 (the Civil Rights Act was in effect), which was the Dizzy Gillespie Quintet--the night I had separate interactions with James Moody (he borrowed a cigarette from my wife and talked about it being hot) and Kenny Barron (he was 18 and talked about how exciting it was to play with Dizzy) and Dizzy himself, my wife and I finding him playing the piano in a Bourbon Street bar, just him and the woman bartender, then him buying us Heinekens (his favorite beer, he said), and sitting with us at the bar where my wife caught him rifling through her purse.  When she asked him what the hell he was doing, he said, "Just keeping in practice."  I lift one for James Moody.
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"A person could piss against a tree, he could piss on his mother, he could piss on his own breeches, and get off, but he must not piss against the wall -- that would be going quite too far. The origin of the divine prejudice against this humble crime is not stated; but we know that the prejudice was very strong -- so strong that nothing but a wholesale massacre of the people inhabiting the region where the wall was defiled could satisfy the Deity." -- Mark Twain, Letters from the Earth
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The Text of Sen. Bernie Sanders's Speech:
timnovo.wordpress.com/2010/12/04/bernie-sanders-amazing-speech-in-text-1-of-2/

President Obama's and the Dumbocrat Party's response to Bernie? "Ah, shut up and sit the fuck down, Bernie, you dumb bastard. We need to continue these tax breaks or we're going to slide back into that recession our President in corporation with the backwards-thinking Repugnicans has lifted us out of. We praise our wealthiest Americans. They are the backbone of this nation. Without their campaign contributions, pal, you wouldn't have a Senate seat. Think big. It's the BIG picture we're talking about, Bernie." Ironically, this recession President Obama's warning us about slipping back into (poor bastard, doesn't know the difference between a recession and a depression--doesn't even talk about inflation) was started when Bush gave those 1-percenters their tax-free rides--remember, we're talking about worthless, spoiled-brat G.W. Bush getting a tax-free ride, too; we're talking about Bush's brothers and his sister getting tax-free rides; we're talking Old Pappy and Mammy Bush getting tax-free rides (this whole family has lived off government doles its whole existence); we're talking about New York City's billionaire mayor getting a tax-free ride; we're talking about ultrafilthyrich Warren Buffett and his palsy-walsy Little Billy Gates and Billy's worthless-drag-on-the-economy wife, Melinda, getting tax-free rides; we're talking about Donald "the Bankruptcy King" Trump and traitorous phony American Rupert Murdoch getting tax-free rides. Since corporations are now individual citizens, this means corporations and their many CEOs and management goons will now get tax-free rides (a further tax-free ride since all of them are already on tax-free rides). Exxon-Mobil, for instance, pays no taxes at all on its huge profits. For God's sake, Mr. President, who the hell's gonna pay taxes? Of course, now that our president is a multimillionaire (and Michelle is too), he's getting a tax-free ride also. Once a person gets rich in this country, fuck their fellowman; fuck their neighbors; fuck their community; fuck their friends. I know, my brother was rich--and stingy, too. Why? Because once a person gets rich--and most of these people are rich on paper only and not in terms of cash--they become paranoid. Everyone suddenly is out to rip them off. Especially poor people--"Like my Black butler--I mean, that son of a bitch is always borrowing money from me and then conveniently forgetting to pay me back. Bought his lazy wife a big fifty-six-inch HD television. 'Oh, yessuh, boss, I'se'a gonna pay you back...in de meantime, does you mind if'n I steals dis silverware?' I hate these servants, but what the hell you gonna do. When you're as rich as I am, you don't stay that way helping these poor lazy worthless bastards keep up their easy-living lazy lives." Anyway, nice speech, Bernie. Too bad the nutjobs who are better than thou are thinking backwards--just like you, Bernie: I mean you backed this deal at first. Hypocrites! Yes, even Bernie Sanders is a hypocrite, but notice: he's the only one beginning to see how hypocritical he is and Congress is and President Obama is and Hillary "Hillbilly Queen" Clinton is and Slick Willie Clinton is--but, no, ex-faux-stolen-election president G.W. Bush isn't a hypocrite--he sticks to and totally believes in the divinity of rich people, which of course includes himself. Remember, these people, C. Wright Mills taught us this in 1956, our Power Elite (those who control a nation's wealth) feel they are above all the rest of us. They do not think they make mistakes. If they made mistakes, they wouldn't be rich. From C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite on Chief Executives:

The economy of America has been largely incorporated, and within their incorporation the corporate chiefs have captured the technological innovation, accumulated the existing great fortunes as well as much lesser, scattered wealth, and capitalized the future. Within the financial and political boundaries of the corporation, the industrial revolution itself has been concentrated. Corporations command raw materials, and the patents on inventions with which to turn them into finished products. They command the most expensive, and therefore what must be the finest, legal minds in the world, to invent and to refine their defenses and their strategies. They employ man as producer and they make that which he buys as consumer. They clothe him and feed him and invest his money. They make that with which he fights the wars and they finance the ballyhoo of advertisement and the obscurantist bunk of public relations that surround him during the wars and between them.

Their private decisions, responsibly made in the interests of the feudal-like world of private property and income, determine the size and shape of the national economy, the level of employment, the purchasing power of the consumer, the prices that are advertised, the investments that are channeled. Not 'Wall Street financiers' or bankers, but large owners and executives in their self-financing corporations hold the keys of economic power. Not the politicians of the visible government, but the chief executives who sit in the political directorate ... hold the power and the means of defending the privileges of their corporate world. If they do not reign, they do govern at many of the vital points of everyday life in America, and no powers effectively and consistently countervail against them, nor have they as corporate-made men developed any effectively restraining conscience.

------------------------------------------------------And now back to our story:

I was going to write a remembrance of things past thing on my remembrance of Dandy Don Meredith, who died out in Santa Fe, my old home stomping ground, a couple of days ago, but then this Wikileaks bullshit popped back up out of my cultural toaster as "untoastable." And me, a drinking man, though a moderate drinker unless the gathering becomes fun and full of witty repartee, then I'm prone to lose count of how many Heinekens or shots of Jameson's Gold I've hoisted, but I love toasts...but, back to my intentions being detoured.

I have a lot of historical relations connected with Dandy Don...we're both Texans of the same generation; we both went through the Texas public school system; we both went to Texas colleges; we both were married three times; we both had the same kind of male charm and wit...but, there we split. I left Dallas; I left Texas; Dandy Don stayed in Texas, stayed in Dallas, and never played a home football game--and this is amazing--in his whole football career--high school through the NFL--outside the State of Texas--outside the Dallas area--high school football in Mount Vernon, Texas; college football at Southern Methodist University in Dallas; His NFL career spent entirely with the Dallas Cowboys under coach Tom Landry. Dandy went to SMU, by the way, when the Mustangs had a nationally ranked NCAA football program and were in the very tough Southwest Conference and played their home games in the huge Cotton Bowl in Fair Park in Dallas, an edifice that just this year was abandoned to be demolished (there is a big-buck demolition industry) when the Cotton Bowl name and game was moved to the Dallas Cowboy's new gaudy stadium in Arlington, Texas--in my remembrance, Arlington was once the home of the big 3 D Stock Farm and the famous Arlington Downs Racetrack (opened in 1929 and was one of the most successful horse tracks in the US until 1937 or so when pari-mutual betting was outlawed in Texas; the law was repealed in 1987) that was right up against U.S. Highway 80--and where now stands the Texas Motor Speedway where they have NASCAR races....

I get to rambling...that's the wild-tale-teller in me--and they're wild tales because they're true. In the wild are all our secrets. In our secrets are all our problems. We start from Zero, the beginning. You see, I don't believe in God, and, no, don't worry, I'm an A, that's an Atheist who's rid himself of the theist part of the word, but if I did believe in God, it would only be because I found what could be defined as a "creative source" in the number Zero. Like we come from Nothing--out of nowhere--space is the infinite existence--so God is Nothing, and I can believe that. Like, when I sit down at this Mac to write on this blasphemous blog, I start at Zero. Creation begins with nothing. Out of nothing comes something. Give that something the value 1. From there evolves addition and subtraction. And soon 1 has been added to or subtracted from until it developes into something of value...or of a greater value than Zero. Simple, right? But then, like Mark Twain, I'm a simple man. I observe things and from my past experiences (my values) turn them into words strung together to form tales. Las cuentas. That Dead Men Tell No Tales, is something I learned early from my collection of Pirate bubblegum cards, trading cards whose art depicted famous and infamous pirates from the past and whose backs told these guys's story (and there were a couple of women pirates in this series, one of whom, Anne Bonney, I had sexual fantasies over for a couple of adolescent years). These cards came from the Bowman Company [Mr. Ed: These cards were actually put out by the Leaf Company:

not the Bowman Company. These cards date from 1948]--[Bowman's was] the bubblegum company who took the old cigarette companies's marketing trick of including baseball trading cards with their packs of cigs and put them in their packs of bubblegum. And one of those [Leaf] Pirate bubblegum cards was entitled, "Dead Men Tell No Tales," and it showed a poor old pirate who'd been left by his mates on a deserted island and on the back it explained that when a pirate broke the pirates's code of justice, they were left on a desert island to die; therefore, "Dead Men Tell No Tales."

Julian Assange, the latest declared terrorist by our rightwing boobs and boobettes, has surrendered to London police. Not to answer his being accused of being a saboteur under the U.S. Espionage Act, but rather to answer the Swedish rape charges against him. In Sweden, he's accused of not using a condom while having hot sex with a couple of hot Swedish babes. I mean this Assange dude is a babe magnet--babes evidently fight over the chance to fuck this guy. Here's AVN's Mark Kernes report on the matter:

LONDON—News stories about Wikileaks founder Julian Assange having been accused of rape have been circulating on the internet for more than a month, but a report on AOL News indicates that the Swedes may be guilty of "over-charging" Assange, and that the true "crime" is "sex by surprise," which carries a penalty of ... $715.
"Whatever 'sex by surprise' is, it's only a offense in Sweden—not in the U.K. or the U.S. or even Ibiza," said Assange's London attorney, Mark Stephens, shortly after Sweden's Supreme Court refused to quash an arrest order issued against Assange. "I feel as if I'm in a surreal Swedish movie being threatened by bizarre trolls. The prosecutor has not asked to see Julian, never asked to interview him, and he hasn't been charged with anything. He's been told he's wanted for questioning, but he doesn't know the nature of the allegations against him."
According to an article in the Daily Mail (UK), the charges against Assange stem from two sexual encounters with Swedish women—one a "blond academic and member of the Social Democratic Party who's known for her radical feminist views"; the other an "art photographer," both of whom attended a weekend seminar sponsored by the Social Democratic Party.
Assange reported stayed at the blond academic woman's apartment while attending the seminar, and during sexual intercourse, Assange's condom broke. The woman was said to be unhappy about this, but the pair attended the seminar the next day, and nothing appeared to be wrong between them.
The other encounter occurred two days later, when the photographer, who'd met Assange at the seminar and gone to lunch with him, paid for a train ticket for Assange to rendezvous with her at her apartment, 40 miles outside of Stockholm. The woman was apparently upset that Assange spent more time with his computer than with her during the train ride, but the pair nonetheless had sex several times, and during at least one of those encounters Assange did not use a condom.
Two days later, according to reports in a Swedish newspaper, the academic had a conversation with the photographer, during which each learned that Assange had had sex with the other, and the photographer expressed worry that she had had unprotected sex and told the academic that she wanted to report the incident to the police.
As a result of police interviews with the women on August 20, the on-call prosecutor, Marie Kjellstrand, decided to issue an arrest warrant on charges of rape and molestation—a decision that was overruled the following day by Kjellstrand's boss, Eva Finne, who told the press that she had not seen any evidence for rape allegations.
news.avn.com/articles/Rape-Charges-Against-Wikileaks-Assange-May-Be-Bogus-418791.html

What a man! Wow. Sex by surprise. I guess that's what rape is...or is it? Like when you come home from a long trip and your wife or your girlfriend greets you at the door wearing nothing and you bang her right there on the floor without closing the front door even--I mean, could you charge your wife or girlfriend with "sex by surprise"? And have her tagged a rapist? Only in Sweden. I've had an experience with a Swedish woman--one of those "blond academic" types so I can understand old Julian's obliging the two Swedish babes who he sexually surprised!

Of course one can easily read the handwriting on the wall for old Julian. He's going to be packed away in a Swedish prison or else released to the custody of a CIA assassination team, and that will be it for Assange and Wikileaks and the two Swedish babes can come to the US and get book contracts and invites to pose nude for Playboy--which might include a night of double sex by surprise in the arms of old Hugh Hefner (he's old but his Steely Dan still works)--and of course an invite to participate on Walt Disney-Mickey Mouse's "Dancing With the Stars" television show--perhaps the Brit judges on that show will want some sex by surprise and they'll win.

In the meantime, President Obama has once again fucked us. Hot damn, finally this compromising fool is getting his compromises from his hero Repugnicans, compromises that led to the Teabagger/Repugs saying "OK, gol-darnit, we'll extend them thar welfare doles to those worthless out-of-work drags on our economy but you gotta extend them thar tax-free rides for our sacred rich people, mostly men, real men, better men than you, you Black foreigner with a Muslim name...[and under their breath]...you son of Satan Islamic jihad Kenyan Black bastard!"

How embarrassing is it for the rest of the world to see this once all-powerful man now down on his knees kissing the asses of the sleaziest Repug deceivers...and doing this humiliating shit with still a Democratic-controlled Congress. And there's old reliable Bernie Sanders saying he's going to filibuster this shit--and Obama will chastise Bernie for blocking passage of his great compromise. In the meantime, unemployment is up--it's really way over 10% though the Bureau of Labor Statistics (remember, statisticians/Economists/Sociologists/Government number crunchers know how to LIE WITH STATISTICS!) is determined to let it bounce around from 9.7 to 9.8. Among the poor Whites, Blacks, Latinos, et al., unemployment is closer to 20% than it is 10%. In the meantime, the rich who already pay a 1000 times less taxes than the bulk of American wage earners are getting an extended free ride and at the same time, the Repugs put this in this compromise, they are getting an added free ride via forcing Obama to reduce the Estate Tax down from 50% to 35% and then not even kicking in until the estate is worth more than 5 million bucks, and in some cases doing away with it altogether. Oh boy, yacht sales are going up; cigarette boat sales are going up; sales of hi-rise penthouse apartments are going up; the number of billionaires is going up. Hot damn and oh boy. But Obama will spin out the fact that's really not a fact, only a fact in Obama's needing to cover his ass, that he's lowering the taxes for the Middle Class (a class I thought no longer existed in this country)...oh boy, oh joy--he's lowering taxes on everybody. How then are We the People going to pay for two fucking billion-dollars-a-day wars?; keep increasing the Pentagon's budget?; keep shelling out billions of dollars a month to worthless dictatorships and rightwing nations in foreign aid?; keep paying off the national debt?

Do you see how utterly politically chaotic and silly and stupid and backwards these scenarios pan out to be?

In a previous post--yeah many moons back now--I gave Don Meredith's fried chicken recipe. Don's mother, like my mother, did fried chicken the old-fashioned Texas way--you roll your chicken pieces in an egg and buttermilk batter--whip it up to a frothy thickness--then crumble up some saltine crackers in a paper sack of flour that has been peppered and salted and put the egg-buttermilk battered chicken pieces in the sack and shake the bejesus out of it. Then you take the chicken pieces and put them in an iron skillet which is half filled with some good bacon grease or lard (my mom preferred Crisco), put the lid on the skillet, and let those pieces fry until they are angelically deliciously golden browned and crispy finger-lickin' good.

Elaine Kaufman's death. When I came to New York City in 1969, Elaine's was the spot where all would-be literary types hung out. It was up Second Avenue, up at 88th, just up road from where I lived. My first time visiting the joint, with my 2nd wife, we sat at the bar. Down the bar from us sat Norman Mailer--he had just begun his manly man defense of his macho attitude against the feminists Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, and Kate Millett. The man sitting next to us said Woody Allen was there--at a table--and Woody became an Elaine regular--and then Elaine herself, puffing on one of her famous chain-smoked cigarettes that was constantly dangling from her mouth, her oversize body wearing a man's dress shirt, came around and asked us how we were doing. At the time of my first visit--with my wife who by the way was a charter member of NOW--we were living on the upper East Side--on Sutton Place and East 56th. My next visit to Elaine's came in the mid-70s with my 3rd wife when I was living in a loft in BLOHO (far west up Spring Street from SOHO). By then I had published poems and short stories and thought of myself as a successful writer, though I made my living editing. My 3rd and I went to Elaine's a couple of times. By the time of these trips, the literary eyes were off Mailer and on guys like E.L. Doctorow, Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, etc. My wife, a Sarah Lawrence girl, had studied under Miss Morrison out there--and had taken a Doctorow class, too, but he was on a sabbatical and woman whose name I can't remember taught his class that year. After those visits, I went my own literary way, established myself as a regular at the downtown alternative literary establishment, the Ear Inn.

Elaine Kaufman...what a life, eh? RIP.
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Julian Assange has surrendered to Brit police--Brit judge holds him without bail. Poor old Julian. Will he commit suicide in jail?
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thegrowlingwolf
for The Daily Growler