WWJS?

What if Jesus spoke at a Republican Party fundraiser? Slate's on it.

another rock n roll rant

Sometimes I'll poke around message boards with lists of the 100 Greatest Rock n Roll songs, or something to that effect. Something about these boards had always bothered me. I finally figured out what it is: they demonstrate just how stuffy and orthodox classic rock fans have become. Basically, you are allowed to choose your top five bands (and songs) from a set of the following:

Led Zeppelin (must be number 1)
The Rolling Stones
Lynyrd Skynyrd
AC/DC
The Beatles
Aerosmith
Van Halen
Queen
The Who
The Doors
Eric Clapton

Never mind that this is just a bunch of shit culled from classic rock radio. The worst part is that you know exactly what the comments replying to anybody who posts a top ten songs post is going to be. If they put Freebird (a good but not great song) anywhere below #3, people will bitch and moan and stomp their feet about that. Most of the commentary will be fucking idiots who think that their garbage pet band (AC/DC, Van Halen, REO Speeedwagon) should have been included in the list.

Classic rock radio has exercised such mind control over people's memories that there is now a very narrow group of bands that it is acceptable to say are great. Never mind that the Allman Brothers and CCR were better in every concievable way than Lynyrd Skynyrd; Skynyrd wrote a cookie cutter ballad. All the Allman Brothers did was CREATE LYNYRD SKYNYRD'S GENRE. Not too much. And their best songs are live, so they're a little too long for radio play. Plus, Lynyrd Skynyrd told that fucking liberal Neil Young who's boss. Hey, NY even said that "Sweet Home Alabama" was better than "Southern Man." It doesn't matter that "Sweet Home Alabama" is Skynyrd's best song by two fold, while "Southern Man" is just one of perhaps sixty great songs penned by Neil Young.

Oh, I may hate those lists, but that didn't stop me from making my own.

1) Powderfinger
2) Cortez the Killer
3) Heart of Gold
4) Helpless
5) Ohio
6) My My Hey Hey
7) Cripple Creek Ferry
8) After the Gold Rush
9) Cinnamon Girl
10) Needle and the Damage Done

the eagles piss me off

NBC was showing a concert from the Eagles farewell tour tonight. It was like a train wreck: I was horrified but couldn't avert my eyes. This horrendous bit of programming, which was surely dredging the depths of the typically aweful summer season begged one simple question. Why?

Why do the Eagles need to embarass themselves by putting their sorry asses out on national television? It can't be for the music; the Eagles have done nothing for music in their careers. Even at their peak, they were little more than a goofy guilty pleasure. My brother claims the Eagles contributed more to the genre of punk than any actual punk band because their sheer lack of originality inspired such hatred in punks.

Is it for the money? I hope, and don't think so. These guys have plenty of cash. Sure, Joe Walsh spent all his money on parties in the 1980s, but the long ago troubles of a single occasional member hardly justify almost continuous "farewell" touring. They have plenty of money; they don't need to go on the road anymore. Furthermore, why do they keep writing new songs that set records for terribleness if all they need to do is go on tour? Why stick with custom? Just admit you are covering yourself from your not so great zenith instead of writing new material to promote on tour.

No, I think the reason the do it goes back to sheltered rock-star syndrome. It's so easy to surround yourself with adoring fans when you get to be an old, washed up rock band that they actually believe they are doing the world a service by recording new garbage and touring to trump it up. Where do I get this idea? I look at these fans and make a few observations.

The first observation is that the people in the audience are the most middle-aged, middle-class, white and middle-America group of people I have ever seen. These people like the Eagles because they are the antithesis of what music should be about: the Eagles will never challenge your way of thought. The Eagles will always write a song about nothing. Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen will hammer America with "Rockin' in the Free World" or "Born in the USA." The Who gave us "My Generation," and at least Led Zeppelin had a weird satanic obsession. Te one constant is that and Eagles song will never mean anything real. It may or may not have a catchy tune, riff or line. But you can always count on the Eagles to eliminate the edge.

The second observation is that these people think that the Eagles rock. Never mind that the Eagles have exactly one song that comes even remotely close to anything that could be broadly defined as rocking. They're getting up and stamping to shit like "Heartache Tonight" or "Already Gone." These are the blandest songs from a band that has built itself on the concept of being mundane. It's pathetic. The Eagles are soft rock, they're against the whole concept of rocking. And yet here's a bunch of white morons who think the Eagles are hard core.

Never mind that every single fill and solo has been meticulously scripted to eliminate the improvisational joy that's supposed to differentiate live music from it's tamer studio cousin. Never mind that every move on stage, including the posturing to the crowd, is painfully obvious in how choreographed it is. These people think the 55 year old Eagles still rock. Do they still play Hotel California, arguably a rock and roll song? Yes. Does this mean they still rock hard? I don't think recovered alcoholics can rock, but even if they could Joe Walsh doesn't. And Don Henley never did. And none of the other Eagles either.

The worst part of this whole thing is that really bad bands like the Eagles end up soiling the reputation of an entire fertile period of music. The Who, Neil Young, The Doors, Cream and the Rolling Stones were innovative and technically proficient. Most importantly, they ROCKED. And they end up lumped with the Eagles, REO Speedwagon and Styx under the ridiculous label "classic rock" despite the fact that they share nothing more than space on one or two horrible radio stations in every market nationwide.

I'm not defending the touring habits of Eric Clapton, Neil Young and the Who, none of whom have done anything of note since 1991, but it's absolutely preposterous to lump them in in any way with abomination I saw this evening on NBC.

Umm, OK

This is bizarre.

Montana photo essay

Reporting on the first exciting thing I've done all summer: the backpacking trip out to the Beartooths in Montana. Some selected pictures and commentary.

Charlie:Erik:
John:
and me:
Everything started off auspiciously enough; we drove out to Billings to buy maps. Evidently, the economy of Montana's largest city is supported primarily through casinos. Pretty much every other business is a house of Kino. Also, it's a really hard town to get around. And apparently out of towners are pretty noticeable. It's either because nobody walks anywhere, and we had to walk three blocks to find a place to eat and the grocery store. Or it's because all the boys in Billings are either at the casino or locked up for DUIs. Probably a little of each.

After escaping Montana's smelliest town this side of Butt(e), we spent the night outside Red Lodge. It was time to tackle our most beastly backpacking trip yet. In the parking lot at the trailhead, the consensus was that we would "destroy" everybody. Charlie: "I'll bet not too many people do eight nights out." Yeah, maybe they're just more sane than we are. Does being stupid mean you destroy? Well, we were about to find out.

First we were confronted with some nasty weather. We reached the consensus that the afternoons were basically unusable for hiking, due to rain. The worst of the weather was exemplified by my unfortunate early morning query: "Charlie, is it cloudy out there?"/"We're in a cloud."
Yes, there was accumulated sleet on the ground too. Ick. In the middle of August. Such is life above the treeline. Fortunately, the weather did clear long enough for us to scramble up the foreboding Lonesome Mountain.
Lonesome Mountain has shear cliffs on three sides. I am petrified of heights, ergo I am sitting and not standing in the following picture.
Charlie does stands in a place where I never would. Erik put it best: "Charlie, you're really small."
Weather wasn't the only issue. We demonstrated a collective ineptitude at staying on the trail or finding the correct trail. Here, John and Charlie consult the map to determine what went oh so horribly wrong:This particular mistake led to about an hour and a half of bushwhacking replacing what should have been a simple half hour hiking on the trail. It was all worth it; it brought out the quote of the trip. Charlie: "This is bullshit. This whole place is fucking bullshit." Now there's a guy who takes his vacations seriously. It could have been a whole lot worse had we not found a miracle bridge across the creek after some dangerous scrambling. Here, the other guys get the packs over while I take a picture because my documentation duties are more important than actually doing work.After a few days marred by bad weather and navigation mistakes, we hit a stride. If you've never been to the Rockies, that's a shame. The scenery is quite nice. There were beautiful lakes:
Here's a big spire called Sky Pilot (and no, we did not climb this):
And here's one of the more picturesque campsites:
Tents are selfish picture subjects. They're always being upstaged by the people they keep dry. My tent performed admirably despite this slight:
When we got back on the beaten path and started seeing people again, Charlie proclaimed triumphantly that we were "really destroying today." That was before we lost our way again:
Now we have no problems asking for directions in a city. But asking where to go on the trail is pretty shameful. It constitutes being "destroyed." Fortunately, our educated guess turned out OK.

A further challenge was that there were rivers without bridges or even rocks suitable for dry crossings. These wet crossings are known as "fords." No oxen were harmed during this fording of the river:
Fording the river was cold. But it wasn't as cold as swimming. Damn, that was cold. After seven days and no showers, you're willing to swim in pretty cold water to get even marginally cleaner. Swimming lasted about one minute, was done in sub-sixty degree water and went undocumented because the wise non-participant (Charlie) was busy reading Catch-22.

I've never consumed more calories than on the day we hiked out of the woods. For some reason, the best part of the trip is always getting out, and this was no exception. As usual, we dicked around at the trailhead for a while, listening to the Beatles and eating what was left of the food in the car. This included Chickin in a Biskit (my personal favorite), a few Clif Bars and some Twizzlers. Then we drove to Cody for the largest reuben sandwhich I have ever consumed. I washed this down with a shake. It was clearly our lucky day for dinner. Buffet nite at Godfather's Pizza in Gillette. Six pieces of pizza and three pieces of treatza pizza, plus a serving of nachos to cap off the 10000 calorie day.

The drive home was largely uneventful, highlighted by a stop in the Bighorns, where I got the picture of me at the top and the on below:
We also made the obligatory stop at Wall Drug, so Charlie could get a picture with the broad above. I also got this picture of me and General Custer:
After much debate, we decided to skip the Mitchell Corn Palace in favor of a quicker return to Minneapolis. I think we'll regret it. The design changes every year. I'll never get an opportunity to see the '05 edition (tear).

Starting a countdown

Just over a month to Oktoberfest. I can't wait. I can't wait. I'm positively giddy. Did I mention I can't wait?

By the way, somebody actually is counting down.

Notes

These are purely notes for yours truly. I won't be able to blog all these ideas before going to Montana, where I'm sure to forget them. The two free weeks after that are likely to be ideologically barren, because when there's time to write there's never anything to write about. So here's a preview of some future entries.


1) Why liberals should never scream federalism
2) Why separation of powers is a dishonest argument
3) Equating abortion and infanticide: the lie of the pro-life argument
4) Urban, rural, suburban, exurban yard signs and what the hell they mean
5) The New York Times kicks ass
6) Then they came for rock 'n' roll

Gripping, I'm sure. The entries, like the notes, are for me and not you.

OK

Northfield, MN is an idyllic liberal bastion situated just this side of exurbia. It's a blip of a blue oasis in the heart of red rural Minnesota. Summer in Northfield is about the best of both worlds: the non-pace of small town existence combined with the enlightened and youthful atmosphere of a college town. Life there seems to consist of reading liberal weeklies, sitting in a kiddie pool and partying hard on the weekends. Needless to say, my visit to Carleton provided some much needed relaxation.

Presidential vacation

Only one pundit cuts through the ridiculous sniping to give the real story of Bush's August break.

Fundies are hungry

To most observers, the Republican coalition between moderate suburbanites, wealthy plutocrats and religious fundamentalists is fragile and perhaps unsustainable. This fragile coalition appears to be fracturing. Fundies, armed with their importance in W's reelection, are starting to flex their muscles and demand substantive policy. They're practically foaming at the mouth over the SCOTUS nomination, and are frighteningly praying for more vacancies. Maybe it's the SCOTUS openning that has them in a frenzy, but the little fundies and their minions have certainly been active of late.

In the past, the fundies have only gotten a lot of rhetorical hot air and posturing. Essentially, they get their Defense of Marriage Amendment voted down and Frist makes some speeches about Terri Schiavo and this is the extent of play the fundamentalists get in the wider GOP agenda. The pro-life agenda of the GOP has primarily consisted of parental notification laws, waiting periods and D & X bans. All these garner wide support among moderates, and allow the GOP to hide the ugly face of the religious right. However, actions this past week indicate that this is no longer sufficient. A blood sacrifice may soon be needed to gain fundie support.

1. Frist Stem Cell Flip-Flop-Flip
After indicating that he supported federal funding for stem cell research in 2001, Frist then said he stood with Bush's policy. Last week, Frist changed his mind and has decided to stick with his original position (and that of science, and the position which is popular with 60% of Americans). Needless to say, this didn't go over too well with the fundamentalists. After his egregious violation of federalism and the independent court system in the Schiavo debacle, Frist seemed to be a Fantastic Fundie Favorite for 2008. Now he won't even be invited to speak at Justice Sunday II, despite having spoken at the first Justice Sunday. It appears as though the combination of the Gang of 14 Compromise and the Stem Cell Bill have neutered Frist in the eyes of his old pals. Of course, there are plenty of GOP pols scrambling to fill the void.

2. George Pataki Vetos Emergency Contraception Bill
Mr. Pataki is doing what appears to be a reverse-Frist: attempting to shore up his fundie cred at the expense of good policy.

Mr. Quinn said the governor would be willing to reconsider the measure if the Legislature drafted and passed a new bill that addressed his concerns about the drug's availability to minors, as well as "other flaws."

Mr. Pataki's decision comes as he lays the groundwork for a presidential run in 2008 and underscores the forces he must negotiate as he steps onto the national stage.

What I've read indicates that invoking the availability to minors quote is a veiled reference to New York's abortion laws. This bill makes no sense, since abortions are available to minors. Why not allow minors to prevent pregnancy? It's a pandering stunt.

3. Bush Says ID Should Be Taught in School
And in a ridiculous bit of partisan pandering, W said that both intelligent design and evolution should be taught in schools because students ought "to be exposed to different ideas." Now this is a ludicrous proposition, as DarkSyde's diary explains quite well. What it does demonstrate is that Bush is feeling the pressure from the fundies.

Conclusion
Taken individually, these cases might not mean much. However, three high profile cases in three separate issue areas with three different politicians indicates to me that the fundies are looking for serious policy, not just pandering. All three of these issues are ones where the Democratic party line plays well with the moderates and public at large. It's becoming evident that the fundies will not support GOP candidates who take moderate stances on their issues. Let's take late term abortions and parental notification rules off the table and replace it with issues we can take to the bank in '06, '08 and beyond.

I did it! I did it!

I feel initiated to DailyKos now that I've made Social Democrat's list of the 17 Best Rated Comments today. My comment is titled "i like this."

Get rid of editorials

Today, the New York Times made this argument more cogently than I could every imagine. In typical Times seriousness, they published an editorial arguing that Pluto should no longer be considered a planet:

Our own preference is to take a cleaner way out by dropping Pluto from the planetary ranks. Scientists may well discover many more ice balls bigger than Pluto, and it's a safe bet that few in our culture want to memorize the names of 20 or more planets. Far better to downgrade Pluto to the status of an icy sphere that was once mistakenly deemed a planet because we had not yet discovered its compatriots on the dark fringes of the solar system.

Two questions: could anybody possibly care less whether or not Pluto is a planet or not? And if it did matter, would anybody care what the New York Times thought about the issue? Obviously, the editorial board thinks this is a matter of pressing national importance, because people are becoming desensitized, and will no longer give appropriate weight to the importance of the term "planet." The editorial is titled "Too Many Planets Numb the Mind," as if the great Neptune is somehow demeaned by the inclusion of its little icy neighbor in the exclusive planetary club.

An even more annoying constant of editorials in every paper is the assumption that their opinions carry weight simply because they speak for the newspaper. Whereas op/ed columnists must convince their readers through solid arguments, the idea of the editorial is simply to inform readers what they ought to think, because the newspaper is always right. It's maddening that this editorial says "our preference" as if anybody cares about the issue, let alone what the New York Times thinks about it. Also in the vein of disturbing self importance is the following passage:

So now Dr. Brown proposes that scientists give up the battle and accept a cultural definition of what a planet is. It's either the nine planets we learned about in grade school, or those nine plus any new-found object orbiting the Sun that turns out to be bigger than Pluto. He opts for the latter approach on the theory that most people, deep down, accept that definition. This definition would also, of course, qualify Dr. Brown for the historical footnotes as the discoverer of a new planet.

OH MY GOODNESS! Selfish scientist wants fame and fortune; twists definition of planet to make self discoverer. Alert the media! Hang on, the New York Times is the media. Alert the newsroom! Seriously, this is ridiculous. This space would certainly be better filled by adding more columns. There just aren't enough serious issues for a paper to trot out 2000 words of their staff opinions on them every day. And so we end up reading about planets.

Also, in trying to represent the venerable tradition of a newspaper, editorials are always so muted down both in content and in style they are hardly worth reading. A columnist brings personality and interesting viewpoints to the table, while the staff editorials are almost always uninspiring in both categories. It's such a waste of space that two whole columns are devoted to such droll and humorless drivel. Nobody cares about half the issues in the editorials, and nobody's going to be persuaded just because the New York Times or any other newspaper says so. Just abolish the editorials.

Calling CAFTA bullshit

When the Wall Street Journal runs an editorial that criticizes a Bush administration priority, it always catches the eye. The arguments it makes are pretty standard, but I think it's the most convincing anti-CAFTA piece I've seen thus far. I'm normally very pro-trade, but CAFTA appears to have almost none of the benefits of a good free trade agreeement. Unfortunately, it's too little too late. The article starts by calling bullshit on the China claim:

Tony Villamil insisted that "if we don't do this China and the European Union will step into the breach and we will lose business and influence on our doorstep."

That's utter nonsense. In 2003, China's share of the Cafta market was just 3%, up one point from 1998. The EU share, which had been 8% in 1998, also rose in 2003 by one point. Japan's share -- the bogeyman of past years and fears -- actually fell from 4% in 1998 to 3% in 2003. Meanwhile, as the chart nearby also shows, the dollar-value of America's 40-plus per cent share of the Cafta market has steadily risen to its present $15 billion.

Furthermore, the benefit for agriculture in Central America will be minimal because the agreement does not remove protections for sugar, which is the one product that really matters:

And if the experience of Mexico's farmers with Nafta is any guide, we'll have to expect more pain among Cafta's farmers. Theirs is a tiny market, but however small, they won't be able to compete against the lower prices of U.S. farm exports.

Sure, some individual but small Cafta exporters may eventually benefit; but as we all know, one of the region's principal products -- sugar -- will gain hardly at all. That was also Australia's experience in its "Free Trade Area" deal with the U.S., when Trade Minister Mark Vaile bitterly complained both that it "failed to include sugar" and that its openings for farm goods were "the smallest and slowest of any trade pact Washington had ever written."

And finally, a preferential trading agreement like CAFTA sends the wrong message about the United State's attitude toward free trade to the rest of the world:

We say we are pro "free trade," but we continue to undermine the WTO's genuinely global Doha Round by pressing for special blocs in this hemisphere. And we further undermine essential U.S. economic and security interests by encouraging the rise of blocs in regions that remain of profound importance to the U.S. That's something to ponder as Cafta moves closer to final approval, and in the light of clear evidence that it brings little if anything new to America's table.

I know, I know, it doesn't matter anymore since CAFTA's already gone through. It's still quite amazing that the WSJ is willing to put something so opposed to the party line in a place normally reserved for hackery, and this likely speaks to the low quality of the agreement.