Hammer Mill Days

Is that the time? Right - time to close up for the day. It's 4:20 in the afternoon and I've been slaving away for nearly half an hour. Shut it down. Woe is he who must labor in vain. I don't know what that means, but whatever... your friends in Big Green are proprietors for the nonce. That means we have proprietary interests, perhaps for the first time in our lives. And you know what they say... as soon as you get a stake in the world, it's all over. Kiss your altruism goodbye, my little scaly friend. Forget your deeply held values - this is cash, Jimmy-boy, cold hard cash! To hell with all that other stuff. All we care about is pushing product out the door at a tidy profit. What products? Hey.... whatever comes flying out of that hole to China. Mitch Macaphee burned a tunnel through the earth so clean, it doesn't even whistle when it spins (and it should). Now it's like one of those air-tube delivery systems in an old department store. On the other end, proba...

Know what I hate? Well, I'm going to tell you. It's when people intrude upon your deepest personal life, and then when you object, they accuse you of denying their right to - I don't know - have everything exactly their way, I guess. That's how I see the hyper-religious crowd who have been complaining about the mandate in the Affordable Care Act requiring employer-provided health insurance to cover contraception. Obama carved out an exception that should satisfy anyone - one that goes way beyond any necessary relief from what's required, in my view. And still they are crowing about it, comparing it to religious persecution, even Nazi-ism in the more extreme cases. The latest round has been in state legislatures from Georgia to New Hampshire, where the crackpot tea-party majority has proposed a "conscience" exception so broad it practically guarantees legal challenge. (These are the freaks who insisted, bizarrely, that all legislation be rooted in the Magna...

There's a valuable resource for you. And right here under our noses. We're rich, I tell you, rich. It's like finding a whole bag full of doubloons. Or perhaps triploons. What am I talking about? What indeed. I'll tell you, friend(s), we've been squatting in this abandoned hammer mill for more than ten years. You know what squatting that long does to your quadriceps? Seriously, we've been occupying the Cheney Hammer Mill before the Occupy movement ever put on its first pair of short pants. Not for any principle, you understand, other than that of having a roof over our heads. A penniless band, Big Green was in those days. Ah, but no more. Fortune has smiled upon us, once again. So often these things happen by accident. Someone tinkering with something, blowing some time, and next thing you know, whoosh! Well, that's what happens when you live with a mad scientist, anyway. For weeks, Mitch Macaphee has been tinkering with that orgone generating machine Trevor...

Santorum surges to the front. For many, I'm sure, that is proof positive of the existence of God. For others, it is worrying evidence of the other dude. Astounding, though, how culture war issues have come to the fore so abruptly. Elections are never about what you think they're going to be about, are they? 2008 was supposed to be about Iraq, but it ended up being the financial crisis and the economic meltdown. This one is supposed to be about the economy, but for chrissake... the GOP guy who's been talking incessantly about the economy for the past four years just can't get past first base. Now it's looking more and more like the election will be fought over, well... birth control. Then there's the billionaire problem. It seems that every major candidate has his sugar daddy. For Gingrich it was Adelson, the reactionary casino magnate. For Romney, it's himself (of course). And for Santorum, it's Foster Friess, last name pronounced "freeze". Tha...

This isn't a pillow, man. This is a freaking anvil. You got this from the forge room, didn't you? What do you think I am, some kind of machine? Yeah, I know - I should expect this sort of thing, living in an abandoned hammer mill. Remnants from the forge room, repurposed for bedding materials. Such are the times we live in. Big Green , like many indie bands, lives pretty close to the margin, my friends. We don't have the resources for all of those extras bands like The Decemberists and Black Flag can afford. God, no... we just make do with what we've got. In these hard times, our fans expect this much at least: that we should be every bit as miserable as they are. And friends, we don't disappoint. That said, I do wish Marvin (my personal robot assistant) would use a little sense in straightening up my living space. Admittedly, his mind has been elsewhere. I think our new marketing advisor, Noname - a minion from our corporate label Loathsome Prick Records - has been...

Just a few quick comments on Iran. What the hell - why should this week be any different from all the others? The rhetoric on Iran is heating up. This is beginning to feel like 2002 all over again - I hope with a different ending, our having benefitted from a bad experience, but I have my doubts. The Israeli government has gone into overdrive in an apparent attempt to prompt into more aggressive action against Iran. Their threat to bomb the place is not an idle one - this is what they do and what they have done, in Syria and in Iraq, not to mention various assaults on Lebanon, though not related to nuclear arms programs. We're hearing the same kind of trope we heard about Saddam Hussein. They're creating a "nuclear arms capability"! They've got missiles that can reach the United States! Be afraid! Of course, we all know how this story ends. What became of Saddam Hussein's nuclear weapons ambitions about which "there can be no doubt"? It was just as d...

When I was a kid, my parents took me on a trip across this great country of ours. We took in all the national parks, all the dude ranches, all the hamburger joints, all the breakfast cereals, and it was great. The best way I can share it with you is by singing this song. I want you to all sing along with me. "There's a yellow rose in Texas ... that I am BOUND TO SEE....!!!" Whoa, hey... didn't know anyone was reading this here blog. I was just practicing in my spare time. What am I practicing? Thought you might ask. Just in case I find myself running for president in sixty or seventy years, I thought I might need a little background on how to warm up a crowd at a retirement center. Now I know just how to do it, sort of. Anywho... we've all got to keep ourselves occupied, what with Big Green up on blocks like a 1976 Chevy Monza that needs a ring job. We've been blowing oil for about 5,000 miles now, folks. Time for a tune up. [METAPHOR OVER.] Right, so ... wha...