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Friday, August 18, 2017

Make it spin.

Where's the summer podcast? I don't freaking know. Must have left it in my other pants. What am I, Kreskin? Maybe. I hear HE has more than one pair of pants.

You see, here's the problem with living in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. (And I should add here, it's not the ONLY problem.) It's goddamn hard to stay on a schedule. You can set up your little wall calendar or get one of those day planners at the stationery store. (Personally, I prefer stores that move around, like food trucks. Mmmmmm .... food trucks ....) Or you can vault bravely forward into the 21st Century and set your schedule on some phone app. Well, we've got none of that here. Nothing like it. Anti-Lincoln puts a mark on the wall every morning, but frankly, after a decade of that, it just looks like patterned wallpaper.

I guess what I'm saying is that we haven't posted a new THIS IS BIG GREEN podcast in four months because, well, we lost count of the days. And days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and what the hell - here we are. That's very nearly the truth, but like everything around here, it's more complicated than that. The current episode of Ned Trek is a musical, so we're in production - STILL - on I think seven songs. (Like I said, I lost count.) A couple of them have been mixed. I'm still working on rhythm tracks for the rest. We're testing out a new system, and that's been a bit of a process. Our tops won't spin. Hey ... just GET OFF MY BACK!

Really made your mark, didn't you?That wasn't for you. There was a carpenter ant on my back. I've never been able to understand why they are named for something that is almost the precise antithesis of what they do for a living - namely, eat your house alive. (Carpenters, last I looked, build you house alive.) It's another example of what we call the "Pelican Cove Principle" - naming things for either (1) something completely inappropriate to the thing named, or (2) something you destroyed to build the thing. For example: Pelican Cove was a tony bedroom community that had no pelicans and no cove, so it complied with principle (1). Then there's Applewood Drive back in my hometown - a road built through an ancient stand of heirloom apple trees which were, of course, ripped out to make room for McMansions. You get the idea.

Well, there you go - I wasted another morning, didn't I? That's why we're so far behind. Back to the basement with me.

Brown shirt redux.

The thing about Trump is that he never knows when to shut the hell up. The events of the past ten days put this into stark relief. His post-Charlottesville comments are driven as much by his insistence on being right as by anything else. That said, the man knows how to court his core constituencies - namely, by abandoning any semblance of the traditional presidential role of being the nation's consoler-in-chief and weighing in on the side of white sheets and brown shirts. Classy. I guess that roughly comports with Bannon's avowed strategy of calling out Democrats on race issues, though he claims now to want to crush the "clowns" in the white nationalist movement. (I suspect he's attempting to blow smoke here.)

The Trump armyThere is little doubt in my mind that Trump is a deep-dish racist fuck. His personal history alone is enough to convince any reasonable person, from his early days as a landlord to his vocal advancement of birtherism to his targeting of immigrants, Muslims, you name it. After the attacks in Barcelona, his first impulse was to tweet a reprise of his celebratory comments about General Pershing's participation in America's early 20th Century colonial pogrom in the Philippines - the story about killing 49 Muslim resistors with bullets dipped in pig's blood. What is more bigoted than that? His blood libel against Muslims in New Jersey re the days following 9/11? Perhaps.

Trump's next stop is Phoenix, AZ, where on Tuesday he will hold one of his regional Klan rallies, full of the kinds of crackpots that marched through the streets of Charlottesville with citronella torches and various tattoos. Too soon, you say? Not a bit of it. This tactic reminds me of what the NRA used to do (and may still do) in the wake of a mass shooting; namely, hold a massive pro-gun rally in or near the affected community. You can bet that Trump will have an incendiary tale to tell of how the Antifa counter-protesters were, in essence, outside agitators, at least as culpable as the neo-Nazis he tepidly disavows. I would still say the apple didn't fall very far from the Klansman Fred Trump tree.

Is anyone surprised by all this? Well ... if so, they haven't been paying attention. Expect more, folks, and worse ... much worse.

luv u,

jp

Friday, August 11, 2017

Post not.

Ask not what Big Green has been doing for you this week. Ask what you can do for Big Green. And yes, I am cribbing from John F. Kennedy - that's how we roll around here. It's all JFK, all the time.

Interestingly, president Kennedy did have a role in Big Green's history, albeit a minor one. Back in the day when we were fighting the cat for the scraps that she had just wrestled away from some mice, we would record in our childhood bedrooms, our mother's living room, some spare room - wherever we could fit a cassette machine and some battered instruments. (Those instruments!) Matt and I would bang around the way we still do now, hammer together a song, then release it on cassette. And when I say "release", I mean something like tossing it out into the middle of the road and hoping someone chances upon it. (You know - essentially like posting it on the Internet ... without the Internet part.)

Hey, Abe ... Does this song remind you of the war?Well, many of those cassette collections were made up of Christmas songs - not carols, but songs Matt wrote on the theme of Christmas. (He typically recorded these collections himself to retain the element of surprise.) The one Matt put together in 1989 was entitled "PT 109" and the sleeve featured a slightly modified version of the heroic cartoon-like cover of Kennedy's war memoir by the same name. The song PT 109 was actually a country number ripping on George H.W. Bush, who had just become president and who had a heroic WWII story about how he had rescued a future president of the United States - himself - from a plane crash in the Pacific. The lyric was written in the posthumous voice of one of Bush's crewmates, lamenting that he hadn't served under another commander:

Had I served on PT 109  
I would have had the good fortune to be
on patrol with lieutenant JFK
and I might just have survived to this day
'Cause sometimes not only the hero survives to tell the tale

Anyway, that's Kennedy's contribution to Big Green. Not unique, of course - our songs feature many presidents, including the current one. Occasionally they show up in the titles as well. Fun fact: one of our cassette collections was entitled "Songs that remind Lincoln of the war". Extra points if you can guess which president was on the cover of that sucker.

Unfit.

The president this week took a break from his 3-week vacation to issue an existential threat against a sovereign nation. If the intention was to intimidate the target country, well, it didn't work so well - the DPRK responded with a thinly veiled threat to launch missiles at Guam, home to 160,000 people and two major U.S. airbases. That prompted another nuclear threat from Trump. Then he threatened to invade Venezuela. This may turn out to be the longest summer vacation in history.

In some respects, this feels very familiar. The Defense Intelligence Agency leaking an intel assessment about North Korea being able to miniaturize nuclear weapons to a warhead-ready size - that sounds like the Iraq war run-up to me. Clearly someone likes the idea of another catastrophic conflict on the Korean peninsula. The cheap, sloppy trash-talking, though, is different. The only close to comparable incidents I can think of from other presidencies is, perhaps, W. Bush calling Kim Jong Il a "pygmy". No, this was full-throated nuclear sabre-rattling of a type that only pathetic posers like Seb Gorka could admire.

In charge of nuclear weapons.So now we're in a nuclear pissing-match, by conscious choice of the president. That is unacceptable, though quite predictable. During the campaign last year he lamented that the nuclear arsenal was a kind of white elephant and wondered about its utility is we never used it. People voted that guy into office, and now - six months in - he's threatening people with fire and fury. Trump is what many had surmised before: a man unfit for service in any capacity, let alone the Presidency of the United States. But an unfit man cannot be president - it is far too potentially destructive a job to be held by someone with severe mental problems.

Based on his comments this week, it's clear that Trump must be removed from office. The constitution provides for this outside of the impeachment process - it requires the Vice President and a majority of the heads of federal agencies to certify that the president is unfit. I know some of my progressive friends are growning at the thought of a Pence presidency - so am I - but the problem with Trump supersedes any political considerations. They need to invoke the 25th Amendment and save the country and possibly the world. I'd sooner spend the next three years fighting the Pence Administration than stand with my arms folded as millions more Asians are kicked into a mass grave by this murderous dunce in the White House.

Let's face it: Trump won the presidency by virtue of our constitution. We need to encourage others to utilize that same constitution to protect the nation and remove President Trump from office.

luv u,

jp

Friday, August 4, 2017

Loopy mofo.

You can't really expand it, Mitch. If you did, it would be too damn big for the tube. Then there's the drag coefficient ... you know, that thing you were telling me about yesterday, what the fuck .... WHY CAN'T WE JUST WORK ON MUSIC?

Sheesh. Back again, here at the Cheney Hammer Mill, with our mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee working on yet another crackpot scheme to make us all RICH while carrying us place to place more efficiently and, I don't know, churning out mounds and mounds of cole slaw. Last week it was the Bigelow Expandable Activity Module - that patented modular space station component that Mitch was obsessing over. Now he's focused like a particle beam on Hyperloop technology, the brain child of entrepreneur/inventor Elon Musk, a man Mitch loathes, envies, and idolizes all at the same time. (He's got mood issues, frankly.)

What is Hyperloop? Well ... the best I can describe it is as follows. If you're of a certain age (and I most certainly am) you may remember a time when the local multi-story department store (in Utica, it was the Boston store) had an advanced method for getting money and paperwork from one part of the store to another. They had these funky vacuum tubes running everywhere; the clerk would take your five dollar bill, put it into a little capsule, stick it into the tube and it would go 'round and 'round until it reached accounting or wherever, then come back filled with change. It's kind of like that thing in the bank drive-through, except more primitive. Got it? Well, take that thing, make it bigger, and put people in it instead of money, and you've got Hyperloop.

Just like the Boston Store change thingy.Mitch's brainstorm of the week, aside from self-marinating beets (still in development, so don't get excited), involves Hyperloop conveyances and our hole to the center of the Earth. I think he's all excited about this because we just spent weeks trying to figure out how to fashion an air-tight elevator or tram car that would suffice for navigating through the mantle and down to the chewy nougat core. Now he's discovered that Hyperloop has done all that work for him! All he has to do is pirate it, stick it in the hole, and down we go at 700 miles per hour!

I don't know about you, but I'm excited, though not half as much as Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who will likely be the test pilot. Oh yes, Marvin ... I'm looking at you, man.

Another one.

I'm not going to spend a lot of column space on the foibles of the Trump White House, entertaining as they may be. You've heard it all, right? Everything about Scaramucci, Priebus, and whoever the fuck. Hey, we elected a clown-car cartoon character president - we should expect this. What's really much more disturbing is what they've been up to behind the screen of all this palace intrigue. Some of it is fairly clear, like the disingenuous attack on the Affordable Care Act and Medicaid (i.e. Trump's repeated promises that the new bill would be better, that everyone would be covered, and that premiums and co-payments would be low). Some is not so obvious, and the devil in this administration is truly in those details.

Mr. WonderfulTake the Sessions Justice Department (please). Reporting this week has indicated that they are redirecting the Civil Rights Division to look into cases of reverse discrimination in college admissions. They are denying it up and down, but it would in no way be out of character for Beauregard and his new Civil Rights Division chief, John Gore, who was part of a law firm defending North Carolina's recent "bathroom bill" anti-LGBTQ legislation as well as working for increased ballot access restrictions. I think it's obvious that any agency or division in the Executive branch not currently headed by someone who opposes its core mission is on borrowed time.

Foreign affairs is a mess, of course. Trump has expressed interest in the mineral wealth of Afghanistan, raising the specter of an even further resource-fueled extension of our pointless war in that unfortunate country. Meanwhile, Iran and North Korea are both on notice again, the Trump team trying its best to ratchet up the tension in the powder keg that is the Korean peninsula while setting the United States on a course to war with Tehran. Just what we need: too more pointless, avoidable wars. (Trump felt it necessary to do the typical fake bombing runs over Korea as well as test one of our massive arsenal of ICBMs.) It should come as a surprise to no one that a foreign policy left mostly to the generals will tilt toward warfare.

Okay, I haven't covered much, but there will be plenty of time to go into all that is left (I hope). As horrendous as all this sounds, it's really just been another week of the Trump administration .... which actually sounds even more horrendous, particularly with 3-1/2 years to go. Fuck me - this is awful.

luv u,
jp

Friday, July 28, 2017

Bigelow 4-9-0.

No, you can't have it. I'm not going to say it again. NO. Keep it up and you're going to bed without your sawdust ration. I said NO, damn it! Oh, god .... all right.

Well, there you have it, friends of Big Green. That's how mad scientists get what they want - nag, nag, freaking nag. Mitch Macaphee can keep at it for longer than any four year old. Next thing you know I'll be taking him to Water Safari. Such a child! And I ask you, what's worse than a child with the power to reverse gravity? Nothing I can think of.

What was Mitch asking for? Glad you asked. I blame NPR, frankly. They did one of their glib as fuck little morning stories about something called the Bigelow Expandable Activity Module (or BEAM), a kind of collapsible space station section that can be puffed out like a popcorn kernel when they have some use for it in orbit. Handy little thing, really, and Mitch can see linking two or three of them together and mounting some ion drive propulsion units on one side or the other. It's complicated, of course, but it all comes down to the simple fact that he wants one, he wants one, HE WANTS ONE!

I said NO, damnit!Actually, in point of fact, he wants two or three. And well, they're expensive, for chrissake. Mitch has no sense of cost. I can't even talk him into buying some generic knock off BEAM from China; no, he wants the brand name version. It's essentially a quality argument ... I get it. But what the hell, man - you're an inventor. Why don't you invent some freaking money for once?

I guess Mitch is picturing a kind of wagon train to the stars. He's probably given up on our plan to do another subterranean tour, or wagon train to the Earth's core, if you will. Again, typical ADD scientist: first he's all excited about the hole he burned through the mantle, then a few days later he doesn't even want to look at the thing. Of course, he may have a point about the BEAM. Our last few interstellar tours have been, well ... less than stellar, particularly with regard to the accommodations. Finally, someone came up with a space trailer with some leg room. Maybe we DO have to have one.

Okay, okay ... I give up, Mitch. Let's see if it's listed on Amazon yet. (My guess is that it's not available in stores.)