Hammer Mill Days

Hmmm. I like that one you had the other night. How did it go? Strum through that number once again, will you? There's a good chap. Ensconced once again within the crumbling walls of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, I can report that we of Big Green are back to doing what we do best: inventing snacks out of items collected from the goodwill box. If it weren't for all this music stuff we might be good at it by now. Oh, the burden of servings such a demanding muse! Nothing is good enough, nothing! We work our fingers to the bone - nay, to the marrow - hammering out songs in the clammy basement of this condemned factory, then tossing them skyward... only to see them knocked back in anger. "Send me hooks!" demands the disembodied voice. "We are not amused!" It appears that somewhere in the metaphysical accounting department some faceless paper-pusher assigned us a pop music muse. Let's get one thing clear - we do not make pop music. We make crackle music ...

All that run up, and such an unsatisfying result. What a pity the election process never takes a break here in the U.S. of A. We've been in a near-constant cycle of electing people since 2008, with whole cable networks devoting resources to consideration of the various candidates ad infinitum. Still, here we are with two primary G.O.P. challengers who appear to disagree on very little ... and who mutually argue that we should go straight back to the same policies that landed us in the hole and the end of the Bush administration. It's a wealth-protection strategy, to be sure - wealth as concentrated in the hands of the extremely well-to-do. There really isn't anything else on offer by either Romney or Santorum, except an early commitment to war against Iran. ( That should be good for the economy.) We have reached a point where the Republican party is inhabiting an entirely separate reality from the rest of us. In their world, there is no global warming, no inequality, no co...