Everybody Thinks I'm a Raincloud (When I'm Not Looking)

From the wayback machine: GBV at Uptown Mix last year...

Summer Daisies

You know how to tell that it's just unholy hot outside? You know it's really hot when even the daisies are wilting.

A New Look

I'm trying a new look here at One Reporter's Opinion. I've been doing more photoblogging than anything, and I reckon it's time to get a format which is a little more user friendly for those whose monitors don't have the resolution of an Apple 20" Studio Display.

Feel free to comment. Or not. I still don't quite have the hang of all the HTML, but I figure I can meld a new look in gradually once I've worked out what all the $VaguelyDocumentedEnvironmentVariables$ refer to.

Don't Need Him Around, Anyhow

Don't Need Him Around Anyhow

[Edited to make this much shorter and to redact a considerable amount of wankery.]

Because Jonantan Demme's film crew wanted to place so many cameras in The Ryman, and because the whole event was an industry insider circle jerk, and seeing as how I'm not an industry insider, I was unable to attend the Neil Young love-in last weekend. I hear it was fabulous. And I wish dearly that my wife and I could have been there -- for her more than me. I've always been more or less ambivalent about Neil Young ever since high school, as I was forced to listen to Trans repeatedly by my then-girlfriend. Anyway. I won't begrudge anyone else the experience, as I understand that it was sublime, but I do hope that Neil Young will remember... to come back to Nashville to play for an audience who actually paid to get in.

This being Nashville, however, at least I got the opportunity to see Dave Alvin, John Doe, & Exene Cervenka as an alternative -- and Grimey's even provided free tickets to 75 people to go. 

Thanks, Doyle.

Dave Alvin -- monster. Buy the new Knitters CD next time y'all think to.

Friday Bird Blogging

Ruby-throated hummingbird, the bird of summer:

Me, The Man in the Moon, and a Magazine Rack of Issues

Y'know, I once confessed the weight of my problems to the man in the moon.

In return, the man in the moon said not one goddamned thing.

Drop & Give Me One Hundred!

Here's the "I'm Damn Sure I Missed Some Without My Record Collection Handy" 100 LPs list. In lieu of being able to put this in any coherent order of preference, I'm listing them alphabetically. (If an artist had more than one entry, viz XTC, I'd forgotten to do a two-key sort, so they appear in the order I entered 'em into Excel.)

AC/DC - Back in Black
Alex Chilton - Like Flies on Sherbet
Bad Brains - I Against I
Beastie Boys - Check Your Head
Beatles - White Album
Beatles - Revolver
Beatles - Abbey Road
Big Star - #1 Record
Black Flag - Damaged
Bottle Rockets - 24 Hours A Day
Buddy Miller - Cruel Moon
Butthole Surfers - Rembrandt Pussyhorse
Camper Van Beethoven - II & III
Can - Tago Mago
Charles Mingus - Mingus Ah Um
The Church - Heyday
The Clash - s/t
The Clash - London Calling
Dead Kennedys - Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables
Descendents - Liveage!
Dirtbombs - Ultraglide in Black
DJ Shadow - Endtroducing…
DJ Spooky vs. Matthew Shipp - Optometry
Dwight Yoakam - Hillbilly Deluxe
Dwight Yoakam - dwightyoakamacoutsic.net
Echo & the Bunnymen - Heaven Up Here
Elvis Costello - My Aim Is True
Emmylou Harris - Spyboy
Feelies - The Good Earth
Flaming Groovies - Teenage Head
Flatlanders - More a Legend than a Band
Geraldine Fibbers - Butch
Gilberto Gil - 1969
Gram Parsons - GP
Guadalcanal Diary - 2x4
Guided By Voices - Isolation Drills
Guided By Voices - Alien Lanes
Hoodoo Gurus - Mars Needs Guitars!
Hoodoo Gurus - Stoneage Romeos
Hot Club of Cowtown - Dev'lish Mary
Husker Du - New Day Rising
Iggy & the Stooges - Raw Power
The Jam - All Mod Cons
Jesus & Mary Chain - Psychocandy
John Coltrane - A Love Supreme
John Coltrane - Giant Steps
Johnny Cash - Live At Folsom Prison
Los Lobos - Good Morning Aztlan
Lucinda Williams - Car Wheels on a Gravel Road
Lyle Lovett - I Love Everybody
Meat Puppets - Huevos
Meters - Look Ka Py Py
Meters - Cabbage Alley
Mike Watt - Contemplating the Engine Room
Miles Davis - Birth of the Cool
Miles Davis - Kind of Blue
Minor Threat - Complete Discography
Minutemen - Double Nickels on the Dime
Minutemen - What Makes a Man Start Fires?
Minutemen - Buzz Or Howl Under the Influence of Heat
Mission of Burma - Vs.
Nels Cline - The Inkling
Nick Lowe - Jesus of Cool
Nick Lowe - Party of One
Nirvana - Nevermind
Paul Kelly & The Messengers - Gossip
Pixies - Come On Pilgrim
Posies - Frosting on the Beater
Public Enemy - It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
REM - Murmur
REM - Chronic Town
The Replacements - Pleased To Meet Me
Robbie Fulks - Country Love Songs
Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers
Rolling Stones - Let It Bleed
Rolling Stones - Exile on Main Street
Screaming Blue Messiahs - Gun Shy
Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bollocks
The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead
Son Volt - Trace
Sonic Youth - Daydream Nation
The Star Room Boys - Why Do Lonely Men & Women Want to Break Each Other's Hearts?
Bob Wills & The Texas Playboys - For The Last Time
Steve Earle - Guitar Town
Steve Earle - Transcendental Blues
Steve Earle - I Feel Alright
Television - Marquee Moon
U2 - The Joshua Tree
Uncle Tupelo - Still Feel Gone
Wadada Leo Smith/Henry Kaiser - Yo Miles!
The Who - Quadrophenia
The Who - Who's Next
Wilco - A Ghost is Born
Willie Nelson - Red Headed Stranger
World Party - Private Revolution
XTC - Wasp Star
XTC - White Music
XTC - Black Sea
XTC - English Settlement
Yo La Tengo - Fakebook

Friday Bird Blogging

A day late, but perhaps not a dollar short.

Doubtful that my absence has been much noted, but anyway. I'm around.

Here's the first post of something taken with my most spendy rig to date... a vulture at work.

Stunning Silence

Y'know, I am still at a loss for words upon seeing that the venerable South Knox Bubba has decided to hang up the keyboard.

Not so much that he gave it up, I guess. More how he hit the self-destruct button and ran.

I suppose that's one way to start off a clean break.

Maybe I'll have more to say later. Right now, I'm a bit gobsmacked.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

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Crap.

Bluebird Monday

Feeding time for the nestlings. From my front yard last weekend.

I set myself up with a Nikon SB600 and started playing with the Creative Lighting System -- to decent effect, I think.

Friday Bird Blogging

Add another to the life bird list...

Polioptila caerulea, the blue-gray gnatcatcher.

The bird is a little bit bigger than a hummingbird -- I think this is a breeding female. Well, in fact, I'm pretty certain it is, because my wife & I stumbled upon its nest...

(Note the beak of the nestling. There were three by my count.)

Gear: Nikon D2H with 70-200VR AF-S, 1.7x teleconverter, on Sandisk digital film.

Bonus:

A downy woodpecker, cropped and coverted to B&W:

Sit Down & Stay Awhile!

I doubt that this was the sort of courtesy for which the South is so famous, but there are big doin's over at Capitol Hill today. See Sharon Cobb's running account. She's even nabbed the attention of Michael Moore, who's working on a documentary about healthcare, so I imagine Governor Bredesen is understandably worried.

Hey, speaking of which, I ran into him on Sunday at the Green Hills McDonalds, lookin' a little peaked. Ironic that his 2-cheeseburger combo was brought to him and prepared by people about to be hard hit by his proposals, but then, I suspect that he knows that his constituents don't necessarily know what their best interests are nor who best represents them. Fact o' business, I think that's how he figures to stay in office.

Anyway, I recall ol' Phil is not a Nashville native. Neither am I, but I have been learning gradually about its rich history.

He might do well to remember...



...Nashville pretty well invented the sit-in right here.

Terms of Endurance

Wow, is this ever rich:

Condi Rice, on Fox News Sunday, June 19, 2005:

"The administration, I think, has said to the American people that it is a generational commitment to Iraq.

(source)

And this little nugget:

From the ashes of abandoned Iraqi army bases, U.S. military engineers are overseeing the building of an enhanced system of American bases designed to last for years.

Last year, as troops poured over the Kuwait border to invade Iraq, the U.S. military set up at least 120 forward operating bases. Then came hundreds of expeditionary and temporary bases that were to last between six months and a year for tactical operations while providing soldiers with such comforts as e-mail and Internet access.

Now U.S. engineers are focusing on constructing 14 "enduring bases," long-term encampments for the thousands of American troops expected to serve in Iraq for at least two years. The bases also would be key outposts for Bush administration policy advisers.

(source)

Generational commitment? Enduring bases? Whuuuuuuuuuuuuuh???

What happened to...:

George W. Bush, May 1, 2003:



What happened to elections being an important precursor to the transfer of power to the Iraqi people? What happened to that civilian police force that was coming along so well?

Oh, right. They weren't being honest.

They lied us into getting involved in a war, and now they're lying to us about getting us out.

No small coincidence, I think, that they use the word "enduring" to refer to the major combat operation itself and their new plan to build 14 permanent bases on Iraqi soil.

Don't bother talking about democratization anymore. It's just bullshit. Democracy does not exist at the point of a gun.

That Which Makes Music City Worthwhile, Vol. I:

Outside the Bound'ry…

The Rose Pepper Cantina (1907 Eastland Ave., 615-227-4777).  The lynchpin in the redevelopment of commerce along the Eastland corridor, the Rose Pepper sports an ample outdoor covered deck, quirky yet authentic southwestern recipes, and a Mexican martini which is about the best this side of Austin, TX.  You get a selection of three salsas as you're seated (mild, spicy, and verde), and all of the concoctions on the menu which my wife & I have tried are excellent -- both for value and for whallop.  The décor is tasteful and modern, with understated lighting and ample seating throughout.  Live bands appear occasionally, and its state is normally best described as "packed," especially on weekends.  Long-time Nashvillagers will remember this location as Joe's Diner, but it's come a long way since (as has the neighborhood).  I believe that the restaurant is the upscaled counterpart to Inglewood dive Es Fernandos (4704 Gallatin Pk., 615-227-3060), which is always worth a stop for massive portions at minimal price. 

While you're around East Nashville, and you're in the mood for bar-hopping, check out the Family Wash (2038 Greenwood Ave., 615-226-6070) for excellent crudites and a good, unpretentious selection of beverages.  I have yet to visit the 3 Crow Bar (1024 Woodland St., 615-262-3345), as it supplanted the legendary Slow Bar, but it gets a lot of buzz.  I don't know if it's well deserved.  The buzz about Margot (1017 Woodland St., 615-227-4668), however, is richly deserved.  Intimate, upscale, and -- yes -- a bit pretentious, but nothing that they can't back with the menu.  Creative, sumptuous specials always available, but expect to spend some money.  It ain't food; it's COO-zine.  Reservations strongly recommended.

Celebrating Father's Day

From an article my dad penned the Thanksgiving after he'd been diagnosed with the cancer which would eventually take his life two years later:

Robert H. Wilson, (c) Danville Commercial-News, Nov. (?) 1988:

---------------------------

Life has never seemed sweeter.

You see, I wasn't supposed to be alive this Thanksgiving -- much less be looking forward to Thanksgivings, Christmases, birthdays and other anniversaries yet to come.

So what if I have to walk around with a tube strung through my chest and medicine trickling into me from a battery-powered pump? It beats dying.

So what if the medical bills are piling up? They'll get paid -- eventually.

"Eventually" was a word that dropped from my vocabulary for a while. It feels so good to have it back again.

Five months ago, my death sentence was delivered by the surgeon who opened up my innards to see what was going on in there.

"Your husband is full of cancer," he told my wife in the surgery waiting room. "If I were you, I'd get in the car and take a long vacation."

The exploratory surgery found a mess of small tumors all through my abdominal area and a bigger one partially blocking my colon.

How long did I have? The surgeon said anywhere from days to weeks. (To borrow an old vaudeville line, "Doctor, you've got to be kidding!")

The surgeon's prognosis scared even him -- seelng that he was about my age.

My wife and I -- to say the least -- were devastated. We had so much going for us up until then.

We were expecting our second child in about six weeks. Now the doctor couldn't guarantee I would live to see it born.

Our first child was about to turn two. I was shattered by the thought that this light of my life would grow up without her dad -- without having any memories of me except old pictures.

My first-born son was finishing his freshman year in college. My oldest daughter had just graduated from high school. Now I wasn't likely going to be around to see them finish college, start their own lives.

I had always planned on spoiling grandchildren of my own someday. Oh well, so much for that.

To top it off, my wife and I were in the process of buying a new house -- an old house, that is, that we fell in love with as soon as we saw it.

Everything had seemed so bright. Then life for me fluttered away like a house of cards in a hurricane.

Forty-one is not a ripe, old age -- especially when it's you who is 41. I cried a lot -- especially when I thought of leaving my wife and kids behind.

But then the good things started to happen. Enter my oncologist, Dr. Ken Rowland of Carle Hospital, the first person to cast a little optimism over the gloom. He told to me to ignore what the surgeon said and to keep in mind that people a lot sicker than I was have survived. He talked me into going on chemotherapy.

Enter my parents, who headed for the hospital as soon u they heard and who convinced me they were not about to outlive any of their children.

Enter my siblings, who phoned, wrote, visited from their far-flung homes and offered their moral support. One brother even sent me not one but two copies of Dr. Bernie Segal's book, "Love, Medicine and Miracles," which extols the importance of attitude in surviving so-called "terminal" illness. (I guess my brother thought if one copy would help, two would help even more.)

Enter my in-laws, uncles, aunts, other relatives, friends and colleagues -- who urged me to get well, brought over meals for us after I got out of the hospital, helped us move into that new old house.

Enter those fellow cancer patients -- some of whom have died since then -- who told me I could make it.

All these people helped me remind myself that we are all in this together -- that, indeed, no man is an island even in the depths of despair.

And, of course, enter that new daughter, Emma, who is now almost four months old. Not only did I live long enough to find out if No. 4 was a boy or girl; I was right there in the delivery room to snap her picture as she joined the human race.

I have stared down the gullet of The Beast, and I'm still here.

I'm back on my feet, back to work and back in the swing.

I have always been a big fan of wildflowers, autumn leaves and the other beauties of nature. But never have they seemed so beautiful as this year. Never have I taken them less for granted.

The sunrises and sunsets have never been more awe-inspiring. The rivers and lakes have never sparkled more brightly, piggybacking a child at bedtime has never been more comforting. Thanksgiving has never seemed so aptly named.

I can't just stop and smell the roses anymore. I revel in them.

---------------------------

One of the few articles I kept.

You know, those things never seem really important when you're aged 20 years, but knowing now what I know then, I'd sure enough have collected a lot more than I did.

That said, hope everyone had a good Father's Day. I celebrate with my memories.

SKB Placeholder

I don't know if I'm getting hits thanks to the flap about the coerced outing of South Knox Bubba, but I thought that I would leave this space as an accomodation to Brian Conley, Ellen Mallernee, Molly Kincaid, or anyone else interested in taking any personal stuff with me where it belongs: to me. I am in SKB's blogroll and I do leave my blog in my signature over there, so logically, maybe someone will saunter over here and decide to leave a comment.

I'll offer a weak apology here: I'm sorry if you were offended by my (admittedly pointed) remarks. Seems like I hit a nerve, otherwise you wouldn't worry about being called "skeeze" or "skanks" or "Buffys" or "overindulged" or whatever it was that I said. Seems hardly to matter now.

All this aside, your depth of offense gives you no right to conduct a campaign to destroy someone's career, or to shut them up, or to embarrass them -- especially since your primary beef, Brian, was with the things that I SAID which Bubba let stand. Heck, that'd be like me signing off on an expense report where I knew that my employees were on assignment and driving drunk at the time. I can only assume what your staffers' thoughts on the matter are, since you seem bound and determined to shield them from criticism. Maybe I was overly frank with my thoughts on the quality of that article, but I took some offense of my own. Apparently you're the only one in the universe that has the right to act on that, however.

If you're considering widening your campaign of personal destruction, don't bother. The details of my life are shamefully boring by Knoxville standards, as it were. I'm a photographer by hobby and a sales engineer by trade. I brew my own beer. That's about the most edgy thing I'm into these days.

Thankfully, while I'm not always proud of the things I've said, I have no regrets to follow me through this debacle. While I may have come off like a reactionary, bloviating asshole, at least I've spared myself the indignity of looking like a world-class borderline personality case.

Friday Fledgling Blogging

Very juvenile (2-day fledgling) cardinal.



My wife had noticed this bird coming of age in the nandina bushes around the house. After we had a scare with the bluebirds, we were happy to find this guy flitting around the parking lot. Not one bit afraid of us... this shot taken from about 3' with a Nikon 24-120VR.

Comparison shot for scale purposes:



That's a pickup truck tire below, just to give you some idea of how little this creature is.

One! One Public TV Network! Tw... Wait, There's Only One.

I've been following a number of developments leading up to the announcement that the Bush Administration is cutting funding to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting by 25% this year. For all of their vitriol aimed at the unabashed liberalism of Bill Moyers, and their frustration with the actual reporting happening on Frontline and the McNeill News Hour, I think can pinpoint the real target of the Republican campaign to cripple public television:

Sesame Street.

Now, as I think about this -- what other non-profit company has been as committed and as successful as the Children's Television Workshop in promoting child social, emotional and educational development? What other concern addresses children's motivation and interest in the arts, or pre-school literacy, and introduces concepts in math and science as well as CTW? All noble aspirations, right? So why take them on? What makes them a target?

Well, in order to send a message to "liberal" news organizations, that's why. To wreak revenge on the perceived political enemies of the state. And in order to bust a cap in Bill Moyers absent butt, they're willing to scrap the network which has brought real value and continues to demonstrate real value to our society. To our CHILDREN. These family values hypocrites seek to destroy the medium which has taught three generations of children the honest community values brought to you by Elmo, the letter Q, and the number 8.

What am I talking about?

Self-esteem. Sharing. Co-operation. Tolerance. Pluralism. Imagination. Creativity. Love. Innocence. Friendship. Communication. Multiculturalism. Integrity. Honesty. Coping with loss (remember when Mr. Hooper died and someone had to explain that to Big Bird?).

Sesame Street communicates all of these things on a daily basis to millions of children here and around the world, and all without a single mention of GOD or THE BIBLE or JESUS.

Sesame Street represents a secular culture that teaches all of the things that you're supposed to learn in Sunday School, and all without indoctrination in the Scriptures or instilling fear or shame in our children as a means to control them throughout their lives.

You know that has to scare the living crap out of the prime Republican movers in the wingnut Christian community.

Think I'm off base? Who lost their mortal cool about the purported sexual proclivity of the Teletubbies? Jerry Falwell. Who had public conniption fits about the perceived flamboyance of a cartoon sponge? James Dobson. You think for a second that they really have any love for Elmo, Grover, or Kermit? I'm sure they've also expressed grave reservations about the sinful nature of the cohabitation of Bert and Ernie.

The coordinated Republican campaign for "fairness and balance" in media is so reckless and so shameless that they're willing to kick Wishbone, Reading Rainbow, The Electric Company, ZOOM, and Clifford The Big Red Dog to the curb. But I don't believe in coincidences. If this administration is willing to lie about terrorism in order to establish control over oil, then it's not so much of a stretch to believe that they'll carp about Bill Moyers when what they really want to do is take Big Bird away from your children.

Oscar may be a Grouch, but he's a paragon of virtue compared to these power-mad, lying schmucks running our country and dominating our discourse.

This madness must stop.

Support your local public broadcasters. In Nashville, WPLN 90.3 FM/1410 AM on the radio; WNPT on UHF & cable.

Friday Flower Blogging



Found outside of a K-Mart in Hopkinsville, KY.

Friday Bird Blogging

Pileated Woodpecker, near the primitive Methodist Church in Cades Cove:



Eastern Meadowlark, in Cades Cove near Myatt Lane, sunset:



[EDIT: Whoops! Almost forgot one!]

A Canadian gosling, stretching out by the side of the road in Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

Thursday Landscapes

At Roaring Fork:



At Cades Cove, sunrise:

Not Dead

Here's a little placeholder for visitors to this site. I have not sworn off blogging, nor am I going on a deep dive from which I will never surface, to become a curiosity viewed best from the keel of a glass bottomed boat.

No, that is not my fate, nor is that the fate of One Reporter's Opinion. However, life has managed to intervene most successfully in my erstwhile Blogerian efforts.

So, that said, here's my shortest short list:

* The "nuclear compromise" is a colossal ripoff in the ascendant tradition of Democratic BOHICA.

* Digital Landscape (http://www.digitallandscape.org) is a worthwhile way to spend a few days, even if you come back with a serious grocery list for photographic goodies. Anyone wanting to know, I'm in the market for Nik software, a Wacom Intuos3 6x8 USB tablet, and an Arca B2 ballhead.

* Integrity on Survivor is about as worthwhile as bringing a bucket of saline water to camp for drinking. That was a disappointing end to what have should have been one for the books.

* New releases from John Doe, the Go-Betweens, Robbie Fulks -- all on Yep Roc Records. (And it looks like they've signed Bob Mould. Good stuff.)

* Check out the Flaming Lips Fearless Freaks DVD. More good stuff.

Look here in the next few days for some posts from DLWS. Turks & Caicos to follow in mid-June.

Peace.

A couple of days after Friday Bird Blogging



A pair of bluebirds in the front yard. We have hatchlings on the way. The first one is already out:



Bonus:

Black vulture on the wing...

Lest We Forget

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.



It is altogether appropriate that we remember and honor *all* those who died to protect our freedom.

Kent State, OH 5/4/70

Friday Bird Blogging

I don't think this can be topped, really.



(Photograph of a pair of stuffed ivory billed woodpeckers at the LSU Natural History Museum.)

Congratulations to Cornell University, The Nature Conservancy, the Fish & Wildlife Service, and the yeoman efforts of all those who made the (re-)discovery of this bird possible.

I'd say welcome back to the land of the living, but that's a totally selfish and anthropocentric point of view, innit? Fact is, they've never left the world. They simply had the sense to find somewhere on the continent that we were not. The fact that they've managed to stay in self-obscurity for so long is a testament to their adaptation to human encroachment and their innate drive to survive.

Let's not screw this up for them a second time, 'k?

If you're looking for somewhere to cast a few dollars, you could do much worse than The Nature Conservancy.

My letter to the editors of Time "Magazine."

Editors:

I am deeply offended by Time Magazine's decision to run a cover story about Ann Coulter on the 10th anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing.

As a major media outlet, I would like to think that your company had more sense than to write a puff piece on Ms. Coulter, especially given her animosity to mainstream media in general. She is a partisan demagogue devoted to destroying the great democratic tradition of this country by being a tireless advocate of single-party Republican rule. Her "humble" beginnings as one of "The Elves" -- a band of neo-conservative idealogues bent on the destruction of Bill Clinton's presidency -- should give anyone pause when assessing her journalistic credibility. Her role in the "new media" was to spread misinformation about the political positions of the American left as surrogate for the Republican Party in general, and Richard Mellon Scaife in particular.

Her vile invective against people with whom she does not agree has no place in the public discourse. Comments like "my only regret" about the people that perished in the Oklahoma City bombing "was that Tim McVeigh did not go to the New York Times building," even with the shoddy disclaimer that she only wished that reporters and editors had been killed, is simply beyond the pale. Not only does it dishonor the memory of the senseless murder of 168 innocent people, the fact that a bastion of American journalism would glorify the career of a woman who advocates the murder of journalists -- even in "jest" -- disgraces, debases, and dishonors the practice of journalism.

There is a long tradition in the journalistic craft within my family. My grandfather worked for the Chicago Daily News and the Chicago Sun-Times, my father worked for the Danville Commercial-News, and my step-father works for the Battle Creek Inquirer. I shudder to think that anyone would find her comments about murdering journalists "cute" or "part of the agitprop" were some terrorist bomb to have blown up one of these institutions of the Fourth Estate in lieu of destroying the Murrah Building.

And as far as the notion that she is merely being provocative? Please. Lenny Bruce, she is not. Bill Hicks, she is not. H.L. Mencken, she is not. Hunter S. Thompson, she is not. She is neither comedienne nor journalist, nor is she possessed of any special insight or genius. She is a sorry footnote to a sorry campaign to destroy American progress in the name of conservative hegemony.

Has Time Magazine sunk to such depths of self-loathing that it feels it must demonstrate kinship with one of the most disgusting practitioners of right-wing conservative advocacy, even at the expense of whatever shreds of journalistic integrity that your institution still might pretend to hold?

Sincerely,

[Andy Axel]
Nashville, TN

Live in Memphis

The new DVD of Elvis Costello & The Imposters, Live at the Hi Tone in Memphis, is outstanding.

The concert keeps the small-club feel of the show intact, and has several listening options (Dolby stereo, Dolby 5.1, and DTS). The set list is very much in keeping with the recent show at the Ryman, including a mini-set with Emmylou Harris.

The extras include a cultural tour of Memphis.

I have got to get back in West Tennessee sometime soon.

Check it out.

Outrage Overload
-- or, "Justice Scalia, you'd have to answer that question in Texas in order to adopt, buddy..."

The Texas House of Representatives just approved a measure 135 to 6 which would (a) require people to declare a sexual preference in order to become foster parents, (b) if they admit to being homosexual, they are immediately disqualified, and (c) if they are already foster parents when this bill becomes law, Child Protective Services will immediately disrupt foster families if the foster parents are known to be gay.

These foster families below are at risk...



...because these dipshits below (Rep. Suzanna Gratia Hupp, R-Kempner, left, and Sen. Jane Nelson, R-Lewisville)...



...think that how people reach orgasm has something to do with their fitness as parents.

(Maybe the problem is that those two frigid dipshits have forgotten what an orgasm feels like.)

Time was, I didn't know the meaning of risk. I can remember pulling up stakes from an increasingly comfortable situation in Chicago and moving to Boulder, CO with little more than an instinct that I needed to get away from the insanity of big-city life.

Did I have a job? Nope. Did I have prospects? Nope. I had a few cats, some meager possessions, and available credit on my Discover card. And I had the idea that no matter what happened, it couldn't be any worse than my situation was in Chicago.

Things have wound up pretty good in the intervening decade. While I've bounced around more than some, I've made more money year over year, I've landed in Nashville, got married, I've had steady work, I have a good life overall, and I really don't need for anything.

Except a willingness to risk.

Wow, what a subtle trap. And I walked right into it.

Marla Ruzicka

I had no idea who this woman or her organization was until I heard a broadcast on NPR this morning. (Yeah, now that Air America has put Jerry Springer up in what used to be Lizz Winstead's time slot, I've gone off the XM Radio for my morning commute.)

Apparently some people have little sympathy for her, for her friends, nor for her family because her politics weren't correct. And for those who don't know the story, she founded a group called CIVIC which is dedicated to assisting the human "collateral damage" of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. They do this through documentation, advocacy, and actually walking on Middle Eastern soil to demonstrate a genuinely American commitment to help the innocent victims of warfare.

I know a lot of Bush's apologists don't want to examine that dimension of the conflict; they'd rather slap a "Support Our Troops" magnetic ribbon on their SUVs and bitch about high gas prices. But real people are subjected to real harm here, and if our national commitment is indeed to alleviating the suffering of the people of Iraq, then we could do worse than to honor this woman's service to humanity.

It brings to mind these words:

...this is why we are drifting. And we are drifting there because nations are caught up with the drum major instinct. "I must be first." "I must be supreme." "Our nation must rule the world." And I am sad to say that the nation in which we live is the supreme culprit. And I'm going to continue to say it to America, because I love this country too much to see the drift that it has taken.

God didn't call America to do what she's doing in the world now. God didn't call America to engage in a senseless, unjust war as the war in Vietnam. And we are criminals in that war. We’ve committed more war crimes almost than any nation in the world, and I'm going to continue to say it. And we won't stop it because of our pride and our arrogance as a nation.

But God has a way of even putting nations in their place. The God that I worship has a way of saying, "Don't play with me." He has a way of saying, as the God of the Old Testament used to say to the Hebrews, "Don’t play with me, Israel. Don't play with me, Babylon. Be still and know that I'm God. And if you don't stop your reckless course, I'll rise up and break the backbone of your power." And that can happen to America. Every now and then I go back and read Gibbons' Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. And when I come and look at America, I say to myself, the parallels are frightening. And we have perverted the drum major instinct.

But let me rush on to my conclusion, because I want you to see what Jesus was really saying. What was the answer that Jesus gave these men? It's very interesting. One would have thought that Jesus would have condemned them. One would have thought that Jesus would have said, "You are out of your place. You are selfish. Why would you raise such a question?"

But that isn't what Jesus did; he did something altogether different. He said in substance, "Oh, I see, you want to be first. You want to be great. You want to be important. You want to be significant. Well, you ought to be. If you're going to be my disciple, you must be." But he reordered priorities. And he said, "Yes, don't give up this instinct. It's a good instinct if you use it right. It's a good instinct if you don't distort it and pervert it. Don't give it up. Keep feeling the need for being important. Keep feeling the need for being first. But I want you to be first in love. I want you to be first in moral excellence. I want you to be first in generosity. That is what I want you to do."

And he transformed the situation by giving a new definition of greatness. And you know how he said it? He said, "Now brethren, I can't give you greatness. And really, I can't make you first." This is what Jesus said to James and John. "You must earn it. True greatness comes not by favoritism, but by fitness. And the right hand and the left are not mine to give, they belong to those who are prepared."

And so Jesus gave us a new norm of greatness. If you want to be important — wonderful. If you want to be recognized — wonderful. If you want to be great — wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. That's a new definition of greatness.

And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means that everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.

--MLK, Feb. 1968

Thank you for having the courage that so many of us -- me included -- don't have, Ms. Ruzicka.

You were a servant.

Ken Schermerhorn

Condolences to the close friends and family of Kenneth Dewitt Schermerhorn (1929-2005), long-time conductor of the Nashville Symphony Orchestra and patron of the fine arts.

I pass by the shell of the as-yet incomplete Schermerhorn Center about every day. It would have been nice if he'd lived long enough to lift his baton at least once in the facility named for him.

Pick up a copy of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis or one of the many recordings of the NSO under the capable hand of Mr. Schermerhorn.

He will be missed.

Bird Blogging A Dollar Short

Maybe it was worth the wait.

OK, everyone. Grab your Sibley books and give me some help:



Blue Winged Warbler? (spotted on the banks of the Big South Fork River, Scott County, TN.)

Friday Invertebrate Blogging

(Apologies to Dope on the Slope.)

This week, no photography.  Just a number of links...

Estate taxes set to be eliminated, so the mega-rich can secure the blessings of their liberty to themselves and their immediate family in perpetuity:

http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20050413/ap_on_go_co/estate_tax

The bankruptcy bill passes, with much fanfare and support from "New Democrats" (read: pussies) in the House:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=512&ncid=1278&e=6&u=/ap/20050415/ap_on_go_co/bankruptcy

Welcome to the ownership society.  Your ass is owned.  Next, I suppose your serfdom will become an asset protected by the "Fantastic Wealth in Perpetuity" giveaway, meaning that your children will be indentured if your debts are not settled by the time of your death.

I've read a bit about how the NDC in the House believed that their symbolic support for this bill was acceptable -- the reason being that the Republicans had enough votes to pass the bill, so why not hop on their gravy train to show "support" for an ostensibly popular piece of legislation allegedly necessary to encourage personal responsibility (while registering no opinion on the responsibility of ridiculous usury laws in states like Delaware and South Dakota).  Apparently, the symbolic appearance of having a conscience and a backbone have gone out of vogue.

(Note to Nashvillagers:  The bill was passed with the support of Rep. Jim Cooper.)

Washington D.C. Office
1536 Longworth House Office Building 
Washington, D.C. 20515 
Phone: 202-225-4311
Fax: 202-226-1035 
Hours: Monday to Friday, 9am-6pm ET

Nashville Office 
706 Church Street, Suite 101
Nashville, TN  37203 
Phone: 615-736-5295 
Fax: 615-736-7479 
Hours: Monday to Friday, 8am-5pm CT

The GOP circles the wagons to protect the deeply corrupt Tom DeLay:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=512&ncid=1278&e=4&u=/ap/20050415/ap_on_go_co/delay_ethics

For those with no memory, the equivalent sort of shit that Dan Rostenkowski pulled got him run out of town on a rail.  And we all know how much hell that Bill Clinton caught for a few "ropy jets of jism" landing on a cheap blue dress.  How about paying your immediate family $500,000 from campaign funds? 

The AP reports, and the punditocracy dozes. 

Watch the filibuster fall next:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=1803&ncid=1278&e=1&u=/washpost/20050415/pl_washpost/a54661_2005apr14

This story ends with, I believe, "…and Jesus wept."

Worth The Wait



Been waiting a couple of years for this one, too. The iris beds had been inactive due to inattention of previous owners of our house.

Another view, Keefe-esque detail exaggerated by crop & color manipulation:

High Flippin' Time



Been waiting 2 years for this azalea to blossom.

Phriday Photoblogging:

Spring perennials have arrived.



This here's a hellebore from my backyard.

Bonus:



Wildflower of some sort. Too lazy to look it up.

The Buds of April

Pickin's have been pretty slim lately, but there's still food to be found if you're willing to work for it.

Left out of Roy Williams thank you speech:

Brad Kampschroeder, Kurt Sinnett, Freeman West, Todd Alexander, Terry Brown, Rick Calloway, Alonzo Jamison, Adonis Jordan, Pekka Markkanen, Macolm Nash, Kirk Wagner, Doug Elstun, David Johanning, Patrick Richey, Richard Scott, Sean Tunstall, Steve Woodberry, Lane Czaplinski, Ben Davis, Greg Gurley, Greg Ostertag, Eric Pauley, Rex Walters, Darrin Hancock, Sean Pearson, Calvin Rayford, Blake Weichbrodt, T. J. Whatley, Scot Pollard, Nick Proud, Robert Reed, Jacque Vaughn, B. J. Williams, Joel Branstrom, Jerod Haase, Raef LaFrentz, C. B. McGrath, Scott Novosel, Billy Thomas, Travis Williams, Paul Pierce, T. J. Pugh, Steve Ransom, Ryan Robertson, Nick Bradford, Terry Nooner, Eric Chenowith, Lester Earl, Kenny Gregory, Jelani Janisse, Chris Martin, Jeff Boschee, Jeff Carey, John Crider, Ashante Johnson, Marlon London, Luke Axtell, Nick Collison, Drew Gooden, Kirk Hinrich, Brett Ballard, Lewis Harrison, Todd Kappelmann, Mario Kinsey, Bryant Nash, Chris Zerbe, Keith Langford, Michael Lee, Aaron Miles, Wayne Simien.

Only five of them called to wish you luck? Wow.

"New Dean" of college basketball indeed.

Life isn't fair.

I figured that out in 1990 when my dad died of terminal cancer.

He was 43.

Had things been different, he'd have been 58 tomorrow.

Happy birthday, Dad. I miss you.

Friday Bird Blogging



Canadian honkers, paddling idly on Radnor Lake.

BONUS:

Oh, deer.

I (heart) American jurisprudence today.

"Any further action by our court or the district court would be improper," wrote Judge Stanley F. Birch Jr., who was appointed by former President Bush. "While the members of her family and the members of Congress have acted in a way that is both fervent and sincere, the time has come for dispassionate discharge of duty."

Birch went on to scold President Bush and Congress for their attempts to intervene in the judicial process, by saying: "In resolving the Schiavo controversy, it is my judgment that, despite sincere and altruistic motivation, the legislative and executive branches of our government have acted in a manner demonstrably at odds with our Founding Fathers' blueprint for the governance of a free people — our Constitution."

Couldn't have said it better.

Now that the ice is broken, will a fucking DEMOCRAT stand up and say the same thing??? Just one? Please?

UPDATE: Thanks to Rachel Maddow on the final broadcast of Unfiltered on AAR this morning, I was directed to my answer (sorta):

Two Democratic senators who have thought [the Schiavo issue] through, Tom Harkin and Ron Wyden, took very different positions. Harkin, of Iowa, was a prime mover behind the Senate decision to join with the Republicans to urge federal judicial review. Harkin is close to the disability community, which worries about "right-to-die" issues, and Senate Democrats deferred to him on Schiavo. He forged the coalition with Republicans Frist, Santorum, Martinez and, according to two sources, had the support of former President Clinton for his actions. While Mr. Clinton apparently didn't talk to Harkin until after the vote, one source described Mr. Clinton as "egging him on."

SOURCE

Someone please remind Harkin that in his time as president and consiglieri, the Democrats show net losses in (a) state Democratic governors, (b) state Democratic legislators, (c) Democratic House memberships, (d) Democratic Senate memberships, (e) registered Democratic voters, (f) Democratic Party identification, and (g) 0-2 versus the GOP nationally since he was term-limited out. He even managed a net loss in the 1996 midterm elections, which was nigh unprecedented.

Whether or not you like Clinton, and whether or not you thought we were better off under Clinton, that's food for thought.

You keep doing what you're doing, and you expect different results.........

"Predictable... if Ghoulish"

Remember this next time someone says that the Schindler family are a bunch of innocents caught up in a desperate bid to prolong their daughter's life:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/29/politics/29donate.html?oref=login

The parents of Terri Schiavo have authorized a conservative direct-mailing firm to sell a list of donors to their legal expenses, making it likely that thousands of strangers moved by her plight will receive a steady stream of solicitations from anti-abortion and conservative groups.

"These compassionate pro-lifers donated toward Bob Schindler's legal battle to keep Terri's estranged husband from removing the feeding tube from Terri," says a description of the list on the Web site of the firm, Response Unlimited, which is asking $150 a month for 6,000 names and $500 a month for 4,000 e-mail addresses of people who responded last month to an e-mail plea from Ms. Schiavo's father. "These individuals are passionate about the way they value human life, adamantly oppose euthanasia and are pro-life in every sense of the word!"

This seriously undermines their claims of non-involvement. These people are conservative activists, folks. That's why they openly associate with terrorists like Randall Terry.

I wonder when they ink their first book deal with Regnery.

Self-Confessional Housekeeping
.....or, "You Goddamned Kids Get off My Lawn!"

Greetings, to those of you reading this blog from here and from afar. Whether you found your way here from PF or from SKB's blog or Bubba Blab, I genuinely welcome your visit.

Despite the overall irksome tone, I do value my readership, such as it is. Granted, I often have little to say, other than to post the odd photo or "what's playing" list.

That, and political rants.

And herein lies the self-confessional stuff.

I've been reviewing the length & breadth of my own output in the wake of the fifth installment of The High Hat. I find myself in some ways awed to be in this company, and in other ways dismayed because lately I've found I haven't written much other than pissed-off-ness because it's one of the few things that gets my blood coursing these days. It's mostly residual disgust with the complacency of our populace in the face of tyranny (and in some measure, active disgust with my job situation, but that's a longer story than I care to tell here).

While my patience with the morbid stupidity that is modern conservatism has worn my nerves threadbare, I recognize how embittered that this confluence of events has made me appear. Um, "humorless prick" might about characterize the general gist of it -- at least that's my inner critic talking to me upon a second reading of some of my output here on One Reporter's Opinion. If that's the vibe you're getting around here, my apologies. Well, unless you're one of those asshole Republicans who really deserve it, and you know who you are, you flaccid, fatuous denizens of conservabot twitdom. I'm an unapologetic lefty, and if that's not in keeping with your tastes, I'm sure you can find the BACK button on your browser.

Sorry -- it really has become a conditioned response, even without much more than imagined stimuli.

Anyway, I'd like to believe that I wasn't scaring people off with my escalated rhetoric of rage and occasional fits of barb.

If you're still interested in hanging, genuine thanks for your patronage. I'll endeavor to make this more joyful encounter, as joy is something I think that I need to seek more actively, both online and off. I have added comments and an RSS feed to streamline, modernize, gadgetize, hippify, and otherwise "encoolen" the blog microclimate.

Oh, by the way -- I figured out my Javascript woes vis-a-vis the Blogger upgrade. Anybody using Mac should be warned that Allume's Internet Cleanup 2.0.3 (specifically NetBlockade) can interfere with your blog's behavior. NetBlockade selectively targets JavaScript actions as popup advertising and blocks them. The only fix I've found is to turn off NetBlockade, and I'm less than impressed so far with Allume's technical support.

The Wu-name generator has spoken:

...from this day forward you will also be known as Violent Prophet.

In Praise of the iPod Shuffle

This very well may be the gee-whiz device of the young year.

My wife gave me one of these for a Valentine's Day gift. I've been an iPodder for some time now, and I didn't immediately appreciate how cool this concept really was. I thought, "Yeah, well, it's an iPod that you can use to get a random bunch of songs out of iTunes. Big deal."

Well, I was wrong.

Having several thousand songs ripped from my CD library, it is often difficult to quickly pick and choose among songs. I often find that I wind up listening to the same tracks if I'm selecting manually. This little shuffle function is darned swift. I should have known, really. I use iTunes shuffle mode all the time to broadcast music out onto the back porch, as well as playing my 300-CD carousel on full random. I'm continually amazed by the variety and depth of my collection, and especially when I'm at the mercy of the shuffle algorithm. "I own that???" is a common response. The only drawback to the shuffle is that it doesn't have a display. Well and good, though. It is genuinely much slicker than I had thought, conceptually speaking.

Not to mention that this device includes a battery, up to 1GB flash memory, a battery indicator, volume, play/pause and track controls, a three position shuffle switch, a USB connector, a headphone amp, and all in less than a one-ounce package in approximately the same dimensions as a pack of Wrigley's.

Holding this little stick in my hand, I'm struck by the technological marvel that it is. This much computing power five years ago was inconceivable for $149, even using state-of-the-art ASICs. The flash memory alone would have put it out of commercial reach, even if it had been small enough to fit in the Shuffle's tiny profile.

If you're even thinking about getting one, I wouldn't hesitate. This is a killer little device.

Face Down in My NCAA Pool

Congratulations to this year's Final Four, Michigan State, Louisville, Illinois, and yeah, even North Carolina.

This year, I should have gone with my instincts. Looking at the brackets, I thought that there was no way to avoid suffering through yet another Duke-Kentucky regional final, and the Spartans managed to exceed my lowly expectations, taking out both Kentucky and Duke to reach the national semis. It's a welcome outcome. It's always good to see Coach K splashing tears of defeat at the press table rather than that wincing grin of his (sorry Hayden). Yet I had Duke going out against MSU, if only on principle.

Those boys from East Lansing are lookin' mighty tough this year. Reminds me of another NCAA tournament, where Lute Olsen's Arizona Wildcats knocked off North Carolina, Kansas, and Kentucky in successive games to clinch the national title.

Yep, I sure do recall that year. March Sadness. To watch the mighty Kansas Jayhawks steamroller through the regular season, stacking up 29 wins and 1 loss, and yet they still managed to fall in yet another post-season choke, and that year to the (admittedly talented and eventual champion) squad from 'Zona. Still, you had to see it coming from the opening moments of that game -- Bibby was unconscious, and combined with the 'Cats off-guard counterpunch of Miles Simon, their guard tandem made hash out of Jacque and the Beanstalks. That vaunted KU inside game couldn't make up for the FGs raining into the bucket from downtown. (Eventual NBA recruits) Pollard, LaFrentz, and Pierce were neutralized as a defensive force. And if their defense was stalled, their offense was positively in the ditch. I watched helplessly as the Jayhawks fell to a 19-5 deficit early in the game. Once you see that, you know that the rest is pretty much academic. Granted, they wound up losing by a mere 3 points, but one thing I know about KU basketball is that they're not a team that ever plays well from behind.

Well, there's always next year, right?

Roy Williams brought the Jayhawks to the threshold against Maryland… and Syracuse… only to lose each time. Now he stands at the precipice yet again, only this time, at the helm of another program.



The difference between you and me, Roy, is that I still don't give a shit about North Carolina.

Thankfully, I don't have to root for Duke to whoop your backside to a bright shade of KU crimson.

I'm taking the Spartans to win the Championship.

(edited for clarity)

Friday Bird Blogging



A very busy yellow-bellied sapsucker (note the damage in the trunk). This is on a maple tree of which this bird just can't seem to get enough. I understand they're accidental/migratory in these here parts, so I guess I don't mind him taking up residence in my tree.

Final Wishes

Y'all, no matter what your final wishes are, be sure to communicate them clearly to your loved ones.

I'll go one better here: If heroic measures are required to prolong my life, I do not want them. If by contemporary medical standards, there is a diagnosis of less than six months to live, and if that life means significantly diminished quality or reliance on artificial means to survive, I do not want my life prolonged by such means. If in such time that I am attached to supplemental support and my diagnosis up to that time was grim and I experience a life-threatening attack, seizure, or critical complication, I do not wish to be rescusitated.

If you want to be hooked up to machines, please let me know. (You'll be the first.)

Oh, if you really want to make a difference? Get off the keyboard and get onto your phone. Hospice needs your help.

In and around Tennessee: http://www.healthcarehiring.com/hospice_tennessee.html

Pick one and call. Most take donations and volunteers.

Hey Bill! Why Don't You Subpoena Their Dog?

Partisan quack Bill Frist, in a fit of Republican desperation, has issued a subpoena ordering a vegetable to testify before Congress.

More evidence that these people, rather than advocating smaller government, are most interested in interfering in the most private moments of your life. This is hideous micromanagement at its most base, and it's an obvious bid to entrap Michael Schiavo into an obstruction of justice rap.

Forget his senate credentials -- just how does Bill Frist get off calling himself a Doctor of Medicine?

I fully expect that Frist will next call upon the family dog to testify before Congress, and if the animal doesn't find a way to speak somehow, that he'll subject that poor animal to the sort of experimentation which would be barred by the Geneva Conventions if performed upon human subjects.

Oh wait, maybe they'll just hold Rover Schiavo as an enemy combatant.

These are the actual values that these proto-Maoist jerkoffs hold? Horrible. Unspeakable. Craven. I can't describe how disgusted I am, especially since that helmet-headed talking anus is my supposed representative.

Friday Bird Blogging



Rufous-sided Towhee.

Wankers of the New Millenium


Daniel Akaka


Daniel Inouye


Mary Landrieu

These, ladies & gents, are the Democratic Senators who made drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge possible.

To make matters worse, seven Republicans voted with the Democratic minority, and if just two of these three had any conscience, the Senate Concurrent Res. 18 would have been amended to protect one of the last vestiges of wild lands in our country.

Gutless, spineless, stupid, myopic, cowardly excuses for legislators.

If I ever get so much as a phone call from the DNC, they're getting the riot act from me. This is the sort of worthless logrolling brinksmanship bullshit that is going to leapfrog us all down the path to ruin.

Once all the wilderness is gone, who will rescue our Damnation?

Behold the faces above and know that these are the people that I've cast my lot with, the guardians of the public trust, the loyal opposition.

Way to man the barricades, assholes.

***

"From the redwood sawmills to the toxic landfills, this land is owned by industry."

The Picks of Hump Day

Grimey's run this evening...

1) Roxy Music -- Avalon (6ch/2ch SACD).

2) Hoodoo Gurus -- Stoneage Romeos (remastered and expanded)

3) Superdrag -- In the Valley of Dying Stars

4) Stiff Little Fingers -- Your Head is Full of Ideas that Don't Mean a Thing

5) Nick Lowe -- The Wilderness Years

The Books of 2005:

1. Fear & Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72, Hunter S. Thompson. (Finishing a book started in 2004.)

2. Learning How To Die, Greg Kot.

3. Perfectly Legal, David Cay Johnston.

4. Get In The Van, 2nd ed. Henry Rollins.

5. The Race to Save the Lord God Bird, Phillip Hoose.

6. Guide to Wildlife Photography, Moose Peterson.

One Count Fraud, One Count Conspiracy to Defraud, Seven Counts of Filing False Securities Information

It doesn't make up for this completely...



...but it helps.

I always believed that Bernie was a fraud, but now it's official.

Today, I'm surprised. I'll wait for the sentencing phase to figure out if I'm "pleased."

My sympathies to his wife and family, although none were extended to me when they terminated my employment. Hell, I didn't even have the courtesy of a merged document.

The Recommending Ear

And goddamnit, if you don't already have it, go buy a copy of New Pornographers' Electric Version. Now. Go. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? Buy! Listen! Dance!

What's the Opposite of Damning with Faint Praise?

There are a few bands that I keep coming back to, year after year, to find solace, inspiration, or a good soundtrack for a long lonely drive.

No surprises among a number in this bunch... The Beatles are perennial favorites. I return to the Descendents every few years for a good high-tempo shakeup. Elvis Costello & The Attractions are popping up higher and higher in my playlist as time goes by. And XTC, what can I say? If there's nothing else to listen to, a good time can be had from anything from Black Sea to Drums and Wires to Wasp Star.

Then there's this little Aussie combo who call themselves Hoodoo Gurus.



I was fortunate enough to catch one of their shows stateside circa 1988. This was after a friend from the dorm flipped me a dubbed copy of Mars Needs Guitars! b/w Stoneage Romeos. Straightforward as it gets -- 3-chords, 2 guitars, no waiting. The songs are mostly intelligent pop songs about girls and good times, minus twee pretensions or skull-thumping rock-star 'tude. Dave Faulkner and Brad Shepherd are the formidable front of this quartet, having put forth about 10 studio albums and a scattering of live recordings, EPs, and impeccable singles.

I lost track of them somewhere around the release of Kinky, but like I said, I keep coming back to them time and again over the years. Unfortunately, they haven't done much touring stateside since being dropped from US distribution.

I caught up again in 2003 when I went to Sydney and talked shop with the bloke behind the counter at Red Eye Records off King Street. He (whoever he was) tipped me off to the newly reformed incarnation of the Hoodoos, called The Persian Rugs. They were credited with one EP and one full length CD, which I happily snapped up and wore thin over the next month. News had it, also, that they were reforming the band to do the 2004 Big Day Out tour in support of the forthcoming Mach Schau. As timing would have it, I missed that. But I did catch up with Mach Schau, which is as fine a record as anything they've ever done. Import only, alas. Doesn't seem like the US market caught up to them along with me.

And here in '05, there's more new Gurus goodness to be had -- the DVD retrospective, Tunnel Vision. Region 0 PAL encoded, so it'll play OK in many computers, but not so much in every TV configuration (unless you have multiscan). If you're not a Gurus fan, I don't know if this will win you over to them, but if you are, this is a "gotta getcha one." Even with the tanking dollar, there's still a favorable exchange rate with Australia, so find a copy if you're so inclined.

The set includes vids from their entire career, some live footage, and even a bonus documentary.

Get while the gettin's good, as this may be the last new output from the Gurus for some time. The rumors indicate that the Gurus are on semi-permanent hiatus.

Then I guess I'll have to discover what I can out of Paul Kelly's back catalogue -- another Aussie fave around the house here.

Glossy

And one from the archives:



Been playing with the Intellisharpen and Velvia Vision PS plugins from Fred Miranda. It looks way better at full res, but this still gives you some idea. You want richer color and selective sharpening? This works as well as some of the Nik products that I've demoed, and for a lot less.

(Oh, that's a glossy ibis, by the way. Taken last summer at Assateague Island NWR.)

Cultural Ephemera

Haven't made many new music purchases lately. My last swag bag came from the Hastings store in Tullahoma, TN. I found a used copy of Quadrophenia and I've been wearing it out.

At least I was until I went to the Elvis Costello & The Imposters show last night.

Wowza. I believe I'm going to have to revise my list of Top Concerts now. Maybe I didn't have the proper appreciation for Elvis the C. last time I saw him play the Ryman, but nah... well, actually, I didn't, but being as objective as possible, the Imposters blew it out. I had already amassed most of the Rhino 2-disc reissues of the back catalog, but I think I'm looking down the barrel of dangerous monomania. I get this way sometimes when I see a live show I really connect with.

On TV: Mostly it's been standard TiVo fare. A couple of recent discoveries: The "Henry's Film Corner" on IFC. I hadn't pegged Rollins as a movie buff, but his half-hour dedicated to film reviews & entertainment industry agitprop is fun, if nothing else.

Nights before bed I've been winding down with Henry Rollins spoken word and Monty Python eps from the A&E box set. I need the humor and the oblique approach to a world otherwise swirling with much absurdity these days.

Photography: I'm booked to go to the Smokies this May for the Digital Landscape Workshop Series. I found it through Moose Peterson's website, which was a site that a friend of mine showed me when I was contemplating some photo equipment purchases.

Work: Please. Nothing to report.

Life events: This week, I was diagnosed with my first cavity. Dammit. My mouth hadn't been bothering me until I went to the dentist. During the exam, though, it was POKE POKE POKE on the ol' dental surfaces, and I was subjected to a sensation I'd never felt before -- a stainless steel pick poking a hole in the weakened enamel of one of my molars and a "zing" to the nerve beneath. The dental tech called it a zing, anyway. If that was a zing, I don't wanna EVER feel a "zang." Now my upper jaw just aches dully like it used to when I'd had orthodontics.

Otherwise, I'm kinda suffering from a potent combo of stultifying boredom and spring fever.

March Madness usually provides the cure.

Wheeling




Last weekend, I spent a good bit of time just watching the gulls at Centennial Park wheel around in the sky, trying my best to capture the action of birds in flight... just to get more of a feel, and to be out and about actually getting some time to myself with some new gear.

This one, I think I was following one gull along in the viewfinder and snapping shots in an arc, and the other birds happened into the frame.

Happy accident, I think.

(Hm. Let's look at the EXIF... this was a D2H, f12, 1/500, 105mm micro AF lens.)

Bad things are not the worst things that can happen to us.



"Nothing" is the worst thing that can happen to us.

--Richard Bach

Sorta Straightened

I was about to say my problems with Blogger were cured, and then it went and ate my post.

Dammit.

Oh well.

No more ado. For lack of decent bird pictures this week, here's Friday Chordate Blogging.

OK, sorry for the delays, y'all, but Blogger is pretty much busticated for me for the forseeable future. Blogger support has been completely unresponsive. Here's the issue: I can't post anything from any browser on any Mac that I have in the house. So I know (a) it's not my machine, (b) it's not my browser, and (c) I'm not crazy.

The only way I'm posting this is by firing up VirtualPC, which I don't think I should have to do.

And not only can I not post things through Safari/Firefox/OmniWeb/IE on a Mac, I can't edit my template.

So if you want to see the .XML version of this [soon to be very rarely updated] blog, the path is http://home.comcast.net/~andyaxel/blogger/rss/atom.xml.

See you once Blogger fixes their technical difficulties.

Difficulties somewhat fixed. Still having issues, but whaddyagonnado?

(Anyone want to recommend a new blogging platform that I can access via a web browser on a Mac? Without me having to run a web server? Leave it in comments.)