|Image swiped from some homo site that hates a whole lot more'n they'll|
However, once you strip away the totalitarianism and mass graves brought about by upper class Sorbonne-educated starry eyed types the one thing that really galls me about the progressive types is their hidebound air of moral superiority. It's been like that for ages ever since litsy well-bred types decided that "three generations of idiots is enough" or that there should be more children for the fit and less for the unfit (and they and they only were definitely smart enough to decide which is which), and sometimes I just wonder how these people have developed such gall to decide that they were better arbitors of how we all should live than we are. But I guess if you were blessed with the gift of world-saving humanist knowledge you're supposed to spread it about even if nobody in their right mind would want you to do so. And with the miracle of internet you can sure get a hefty dose of all-encompassing rainbow coalition singing in angelic harmony, with enough world betterment and jackboot threat to make all of the Rockefellers combined look like mere pikers in their quest to make the world more like them...
Frankly, I gotta say that I am a hater, and I'm proud of it! Sure there are things that I love, but if I didn't say that there are things in this world that I loathe with a passion I'd just be another one of those empty sets you continue to see all over the blogosphere. Actually, I love hate, and I believe that hate makes the things you love even more important to you and your own personal well being. And frankly, anybody who doesn't hate is only fooling himself because I find that even the most altruistic starry eyed person out there has hate in his heart, only he's too chickenshit to admit it.
Don't kid yerself...there are MANY upper-crust well-educated and ultralib types out there who hate others (myself included) if only for their tried true and time-tested morals and tastes, only the people in question mask their loathings behind various catch-words/phrases and politically pious stances that seem copped from thirty-plus-year-old issues of MS. and THE VILLAGE VOICE. Naturally when cornered, these people will of course admit that they
Take that kid who was murdered by a couple of horny homosexuals who kidnapped and suffocated him....oh yeah, you forgot about him, right? So did all of the people who were sniffing away while holding lit candles when some faked hate crime was committed at some college not so long ago (take your pick of the many frauds perpetrated as of late).
Ladies get married, bear and raise kids, and they even do volunteer duties for causes that have nothing to do with anything promulgated in the pages of any of those free New York weekly papers you can pick up with ease in the area. Women (as opposed to "ladies") work as well, but they do so with that all-pervasive chip planted firmly upon non-padded shoulder (with yellowing "Cathy" cartoons taped all over their work cells), cheered on test tube fertilization since the other method was so man-oriented, and continue to attend workshops that are promoted by the same New York weeklies who pushed this claptrap at a time when the last thing we needed was another self-conscious mewling movement to usurp a matriarchy that actually was working swell!
Murray Rothbard had you weaker sex types figured out a good forty years ago, and if only if somebody coulda nipped these gals inna bud (and I don't mean "Rosebud" as in CITIZEN KANE as in Kenneth Anger's HOLLYWOOD BABYLON) you know we wouldn't have to put up with the dearth of unflattering, grumpy Swamp Things that are parading around under the feminist banner!
And believe-it-or-not, but I didn't even know that the "Wobblies" still existed!
Boiling it all down to the bones, these strange sentiments imply that the rich man (or the poor man who became so) made his fortune only through the toil of a poor man as if the ideas and execution of the rich or soon-to-be were not quite as important to the creation of capital. Thoughts such as these would be totally alien to those Vietnamese who escaped the exact same economic philosophy only to become very successful in their family run businesses, or even that guy in Pittsburgh who became a millionaire after working two full time jobs and a part time one sleeping every other night while raising a family. Or how about my dad (tried and true old tyme Democrat who still voted for Barack O even if the party probably left him in many ways a good twenty-five years back) who came from very humble beginnings yet made out pretty good with a great paying job and an antiques biz helmed by my mother who didn't exactly come from the Hamptons either. Yeah I know it ain't gonna work for everyone (take my own failed bid to revolutionize the publishing world), but when it does maybe we should all raise a fine and hearty hail 'stead of sneer at 'em all for being so "rich" or whatever it is that makes a guy who earns $500,000 a year (or even $50, 000 for that matter) more evil that one who earns $30,000. Well, at least the Vietnamese, the Pittsburgher and my folks weren't spending their time standing on street corners holding signs espousing a logic that can be deflated with the prick of a pin when they could be out working.
But that's the thing with these money-hating types from the Occupy gang on down. As one of my fave commentators Thomas Fleming once wrote, you can criticize the Tea Party Movement for many legitimate reasons, but at least the people who are part of their local chapters seem like everyday folk you see at the farmer's market buying produce or sitting next to you at everything from the bowling alley to the proctologist. The Occupy types have always come off more like the scions of pouty mid/upperclass toffee noses either on the world-saving kick or just too altruistic to be allowed to live, and a buncha pantywaists to boot considering how they all skeedaddled for their comfy bedrooms once the weather became a li'l too chilly for their tender and underexposed skin. Didn't anybody tell them about the harshness of the Soviet winters when Moscow was being besieged by the forces of Hitler? I mean if those Russkies didn't have any electric blankets to keep their tootsies all toasty warm then you pampered pooches don't need any either too. You gotta suffer for the sake of that state you wanna smash, at least before you become the state that is!
And you can get outta my face about the 47% too. Although Mitt Romney is just the latest in a line of moderate/left republican candidates acting conservative to wow the rube vote, I'm certainly no fan of all of those leeches who believe that producers like me (I'm not too sure about you) have to support every lazybones out there's whim and fancy. Not that I don't mind asking people for assistance when needed or giving it to people in need, but the overrambunctiousness of some "uplifter" types demanding that people give of their property, time and eventually lives for the sake of those who just might kill you as much as look at you is nothing but more Rockefeller do-gooder mentality that never did pan out well. And if I do say so myself, t's especially bone-chilling when there are a whole number of guns aimed at ya if you don't crack that big smile while doling out your hard-earned, since like they gotta keep up that holy image.
Sheesh, if I didn't support these people with my ever-expanding taxes maybe I could actually indulge in more of my own whims and fancies! And really, I've had enough of that crying over the perceived misfortunes (better yet lack of insight regarding getting some good insurance when the opportunity arose) of the so-called worse off after being pressured by all of those lameass teachers I had who said we all should give and give and give, and we all know what jerkoffs teachers can be! Let's just say that Romney was right about these takers even if coming out against the so-called oppressed (whose lifestyles any Somalian would envy) is tantamount to committing every great crime in the Roosevelt/Kennedy/Clinton book of over-rambunctious heartbleed vol. 1. And cue up the UP WITH PEOPLE album to drown out our screams while yer at it.
I also hate war. I will not call myself a "peacenik" if only because peaceniks won't fight for anything and. I do believe in self-defense, and it better be that and not an excuse to start some conflict just because you know you can smash your intended target to a pulp in tried and true backwoods Scots-Irish fashion! While I'm at it, let it be known that I'm not one of those guys who hate the wars that my political opponents begin but love (or ignore) the ones my political allies continue, mainly because none of my political faves would start a war in a million years given the historical fact that almost all wars (including those sacred ones like the War Between the States and World War II) could have easily been averted or weren't worth the lives, money and historical ramifications they always tended to cause. And although saying so would pretty much be tantamount to treason, I certainly do find much value in Pat Buchanan's oft loathed assertion that Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia could have easily beaten each other to a pulp while the rest of the world looked on with glee, and if that only did happen don't you think the past seventy years would have been GRAND
Nowadays what's passing for the antiwar movement is nothing but a giddy self-patting get together that's glad the president has done all of the superficial window dressing work to show you he's committed to bringing the troops home while sending more troops elsewhere. At least the folk who man the antiwar.com site always knew where they stood no matter which marionette is in power and of course they've gotten pounded for it by both the liberals and conservatives. Sadly, I don't see much of a difference if there is a regime change this November, if only with an escalation in that brave new bid to spread democracy all over the world with the same passion and drive of Hitler and Stalin's move to make us all get along. Well, in the sage words of Captain Beefheart "out of the frying pan..."
And would it be imprudent of me to mention that I also hate homos (and their straight lackeys)? Yeah, what these people do in the privacy of their own stall at the bath house is none of your biz, but when they get out into the real world and start talking about marriage rights and being so oppressed as if they were dragged over here from Fagland to work the fashion industries of Ameriga it's no wonder a whole fire department worth of bells start blarin' in my head. Moaning about not being able to be boy scout leaders also really gets to me...I mean look what happened when the Catholic Church decided to let gays be priests back in the seventies, and don't tell me that it's a different situation because it all boils down to the unchaining of the libido and just ignore the consequences (or better yet blame 'em on the good ol' boy structure)! Those foxes always wanted to get their paws in the henhouse, and what better henhouse can you think of'n a pack of ten-year-old boys working on their beaver patrol badges!
The entire make up of what gaydom is today...forced acceptance of them not for what they are but for what they do, faux outrage at every perceived slight and unbridled guerrilla tactics when they don't get their legislative way (people talk about the actions of their chosen hoo-hah the Westboro Baptist Church with disdain, but when gays use the sames ones and worse lotsa blind eyes are obviously being turned) is enough to make me wanna go and get Charles Dannemyer outta retirement for good! Now I don't think injecting infants with an anti-gay vaccine is quite the right response...considering the spoiled brat crybaby behavior of the more vocal gay exponents maybe injecting them with an anti-narcissism one is!
I could go on, from people of different creeds who love to tout some misconceived notions of triumphalism my way to those of different races who tag me as the enemy because in this war the only uniform I have is my skin color, and in no way will I forget all of those backstabbing punk credo types who turned on me with a vengeance (just because I don't fill my posts with disdain for their very existences anymore doesn't exactly mean I have forgiven or forgotten, as if any opportunity for such a thing ever would arise), but you're (hopefully) astute enough to follow along and agree! The point of the matter is...when you see someone frothing at the mouth about "hate" and its evils you know they're an unwittingly walking billboard for it! At least I admit that I do hate, although unlike the loving examples of humanity who claim not to harbor any ill will I do not abuse my emotions regarding the subject at hand. And like I said but you surely do need reminded, if you do use your hate selectively, you undoubtedly will find the things you love mean all the more to you. So go on and admit that you hate, whether it's people who don't agree with your own horse-blindered views of life or the music you like or your looks for that matter. Since you've all admitted that you hate me and have for years on end I'm sure you can spread some of the loathing around...c'mon, give it the ol' college try!
***After that much needed release (perhaps the most truthful spewing of deeply held thoughts since Jim Goad's latest TAKI'S MAGAZINE missive) I don't feel like writing long essay-length reviews in the grand CAN'T BUY A THRILL tradition at all. Just too pissed, y'know, so I'm gonna keep these writeups short 'n sweet in the CREEM "Rock-a-rama" tradition. Maybe next week when I've calmed down and some new items have captured my fancy I'll present some extended reviews worthy of the punk intellectual tradition, but for now all I wanna do are these "quickies" and if you know what's best for you you'd appreciate these like manna from heaven. If not, there's always Chuck Eddy's blog where he goes gaga over his favorite colored vinyl indie releases of the eighties which I at least had the brains to ditch as soon as I recovered from the boring similarity of it all!
***Thee Oh Sees-PUTRIFIERS II CD-R burn (originally on In The Red)
Dunno why McGarry burned this for me (doesn't seem like his cup of java) but this long-heralded San Franciscan group are...OK. Nothing to toss the cornflakes about, but I like the way they take various late-sixties psychedelic pop rock moments from Pink Floyd to the Association and reshape 'em for the 'teens...without coming off like a bunch of amateur practitioner X-Tal types who are only in it for the superficiality. My fave of the bunch just has to be track #7, "Will We Be Scared", which sounds like some early-sixties single track with its echo-y sound and production which seems custom made for the '62/'63 Top Forty season. That is if they allowed retarded people to make pop records back then, other than Laurie London!
Noah Howard-RED STAR CD-R burn (Boxholder reissue)
Nice of Bill Shute to send me a dub of this Noah Howard rarity. Don't expect too much of a post-Coltrane sound with the presence of be-bop great Kenny Clarke on drums, but the mood is swinging enough and there's even a fine enough avant garde approach once the gang start trekking into the title track. But still this is a comparatively mild outing, and sheesh when I come home from a hard day at the salt mines and plop down besides the chairside boom box I'm looking for a little more grate and atonal stimulation to hone my already overtaxed nerve
endings. Better make it some Frank Lowe next time, willya Bill?
Never got to hear any of those SMILE bootlegs from the eighties that purported to the thee album as nature intended, nor did I get hold of that recent Brian Wilson-manned reworking that had alla them old-tyme rock critics pining away for the old days when they didn't have to pretend to like Lady Caga to be "with it." Needless to say, these outtakes and pastiches and other fancy words for leftovers make for a good collection. For the Beach Boys and SMILE fan this is a great look into the inner workings of just what went into a legendary album that's only come to fruition recently. For the rest, well you'll probably be bored outta your gourd with all of the alternate takes and backing tracks and ideas that still need fleshed out leaving your mind hungerin' for the completed form, but I know that if you put your heart and mind into it you'll be able to stick it out throughout its entirety. After all, if you could survive listening to the entire output of George Harrison solo albums without wincing you can certainly make your way through this with ease!
***M2-AT LAND'S END LP (Feeding Tube)
The Miller Boys of Sproton Layer/Destroy All Monsters fame are at it again, this time making an album which I guess could be described as soft post-industrial Cageian tones. If you can imagine the halfway point between 1942 Cage and 1978 AMM, with perhaps some hefty sidesteps into Nurse With Wound you probably will get an idea of what's goin' on here. But they again probably not...after all, I've read some of you reader's comments on this blog and I get the impression that the whole bunch of you are perhaps the worst literalists imaginable. I only wish I knew more people like you in grade school, because I coulda sold you alla those old rubbers I found under the bridge as finger cots.
There must be a hundred or so albums of 60/70s vintage that I've had quite a curiosity about, and the Listening one's been just one of 'em. Given that future Velveeta Undergrounder Walter Powers performs on it and even Willie Loco Alexander pops up on a track I figured this 'un might've had the right amt. of late-sixties punkitude to satisfy a guy like me who (for the past thirty-five or so years) had been searching through tons of printed refuse to pick up on even the slightest p-rock thrill. Unfortunately Listening don't satisfy me the way those Deviants and Flamin' Groovies recs had oh so long ago. Hammond B-3 trills come off more Keith Emerson'n anything while the entire performance tends to lean towards the ever-maturing West Coast ramalama that didn't sound so hot once the decade began to clock over into vistas best left untouched. I do get the feeling that this'll grow on me like finger fungus as the years unravel, but sheesh izzit like I'm gonna live to be 200?
Y'all know that I'm not "into" the blues the same way a 1975 iron-haired post-hippie college gal was into macrame. However, I'm at least aware of the eternal hipnitude that comes outta admitting that the musical form has relevance and meaning. This comes in handy when in the company of various 55-plus-year-old white guys who osmosed the black originals via all of those crucial British Invasion groups like Gerry and the Pacemakers as well as the Hullabaloos. Or something like that, but anyway this collection of pre-WW II blues recordings (sent by guess who?, and I don't mean Burton Cummings!) really has nothing much to differentiate it from similar-minded collections that have bubbled all over the last these past fiftysome years. Great primitive sound and hypnotic drone abounds, and although the likes of Tom Bell and Noah Moore can sorta run into Oscar Woods and Kid West you don't quite mind during those late-hour wind downs one bit. Biggest surprise: the Washboard Trio's "Red Cross Blues" which kinda sounds like a one-man band times three with strange percussive clangs you haven't heard since you started banging on alla the kitchen utensils and pans until mom came in a wailed the daylights outta you!
***Expect a moom pitcher review midweek (one of a Bill Shute burn...what else?) followed by another big weekend blowout. Until then, remember to not kid yourself and hate, though be careful with your hate since it really is a gift from God that should not be abused, like you've done with that other gift of his that you've been abusing ever since you were a mere toddler!