Dé Céadaoin, Lúnasa 30, 2006

Leave it To Fox News

Fox News "War On Christmas" dipshit John Gibson has come out in defense of media obssesion with the Jon-Benet Ramsey murder case. Give him and Fox credit for addresing the controversy. All of the high brow media sources, (NPR, NYT) have also been sucked into the hype, and have chosen to defend their reputations by pretending that there is no controversy about it. For once, let's raise a glass to the pseudo-populists. Now lets get to the bigger problem.

"I think the no. 1 issue to people in this country of all races, both genders, and all economic backgrounds is their children. Here we've got a guy who is an admitted pedophile, who can be hear literally drooling over the thought of luscious little JonBenet." Gibson

All true enough. But human beings are not symbols. JonBenet Ramsey does not represent all children, all child murder victims, or even the general vulnerability of children. To continue to present her as such, now that she has been dead longer than she lived, is an unforgivible insult. As it is unforgivible to make a symbol out of anyone who was once a living individual; with sovereign feelings and concerns that probably didn't have a thing to do with yours.

Let's not think for a minute that the Ramsey case is purely altruistic. Human beings are still mostly animals, after all, and the only death that an animal can conceive of is being eaten by a predator. We humans know that we will die. Yet we still have a hard time understanding what that really means unless someone dies at the hands of a human "predator, be it a terrorist, sex offender, or random thug. The media know that these stories will attract our attention, and that our attention will attract advertisers. This is why a poor girl who was murdered last decade gets more attention than the millions of children who are dying of cancer, AIDS, or starvation right now.

This contributes to some disasterous real world effects. Tax money spent on weapons and prisons, when more lives would be saved if it were spent on hospitals and research. Parents investing in guns instead of doctors and healthy food for their kids. We have created a society where we are taught that the biggest thing we have to fear is each other. Needless to say, this does not create a society where people are willing to help each other. Instead, some have turned to the very law of the jungle that our species has spent a million years trying to escape. A Mad Max fantasy land where government serves no purpose beyond interfering with a man's ability to defend his tribe.

Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 29, 2006

RIP Vashti McCollum

This is the hero who died last week at 93. Back in 1948, she went to the Supreme Court to force her children's school district to stop forcing its students to take classes on their particular religion. The vote was 8-1 in her favor. What would the vote be today? Don't ask. These classes were, of course, strictly(cough) neutral (cough). Of course, the Protestants got to take their classes on school property, while Jews and Catholics had to go to buildings off campus. (Society has gotten more complex since then, I shudder to think where they would ship the Muslims off to today.) The Champaign Illinois School District justified this on the grounds that since they were promoting all religions (cough) it was acceptible. Mc'Collum had the gall to say that athiests and agnostics were, under the law, equal in dignity to Christians, Jews, and the rest. Therefore, since the country was founded on freedom of, and yes, even freedom from, religion, it was better not to say anything about religion in schools at all.

There are amusing moments in the NYT obituary. During the first trial, Mrs. Mc'Collum's father elicited gasps from the entire courtroom when he said he didn't believe in God. As a lapse Diest, I have no idea what it feels like to be shocked, shocked!, by someones nonbelief. Maybe I hang out with the beautiful people too much.

There are also outrages. Mc'Collums house was vandalized. Her children were bullied. They all received death threats. Courtesy of Good Christian types, who realize that God is very sensitive and feels really bad unless everybody is praying to him in a precisely correct manner. While he's desparing over being stood up by an uppity mortal, he's totally incapible of taking care of himself. He won't be okay again until we give him a few days with some scented candles, six pints of ice cream, and his trusty Carol King cd's. That leaves it up to the true believers to defend his honor, by any means neccessary.

These are the mental ancestors of today's right wing. Those who claim to be unaffected by political correctness. Those who claim to understand better than us filthy libs how much more enlightened Western society is than the Middle East. Since we are so much more enlightened and free than the Muslims, we must force all Americans to believe in the same things so that we may have the strength to crush the infidel.

Come back Vashti. We need you.

Dé Luain, Lúnasa 28, 2006

Dé Sathairn, Lúnasa 26, 2006

Some of those who work Forces

I'm sure the headline has been used elsewhere on the net in regards to this story, but I just find it irrisistible. Robert Henderson, a state patrolman out of Omaha, is a member of the KKK. (Technically, the "knights party") You can read all about it at journalstar.com or virtually any other source of Nebraska news.

Henderson was fired in the spring when his after-hours activities were revealed. Unfortunatly, he got a lawyer and went to court to keep his job. A New York arbiter decided that firing him for his klan ties violated his freedom of association rights, and he's back on the job.

Needless to say, this has not gone over well with elected officials. Attorney General Bruning (fairly honest and decent by Republican standards) is appealing the decision. It goes without saying that this would be bad for the image of any state, especially an overwhelmingly white and rural state with an authoritarian streak. State officials must at least try to get this bastard kicked off of the force, the people of Nebraska will not suffer embarssment.

On the other hand, Henderson's freedom of association claims should not be taken lightly. I'm sure there's four or five cops somewhere in the world who are members of the Socialist Workers Party, and most small-town Sheriffs would never allow such types on their force if they weren't forced to. And of course being a member of the KKK should not get one fired from the local Gas n Go.

But being a member of a government force is different from working in civil society. Military men and women have restrictions on their freedom of speech, association, and movement that the rest of us would never tolerate. The nature of the job, requiring strict obediance and coordination, simply doesn't allow it.

Police work requires objectivity. Not the unattainable journalistic dream, but real objectivity. A cop must examine evidence without making any assumptions on where it will lead. A cop must listen to conflicting stories without thinking that the one who was "one of them" is the one who is lying. Racism is a belief in automatic, unchangeable, inferiority and superiority. This makes it more unAmerican than Facism, Communism, soccer, or any other crack pot doctrine. Allowing police to have this much freedom of association threatens freedom for the rest of us.

On a lighter note, Henderson was driven to the KKK after his wife ran off with a Hispanic man in 2003. Isn't thisjust what any mature adult would do? I can only guess that he must be trying to win the gold in the pathetic olympics.

Hago que su esposa gime como una reina del prom.

Contrary to what some might expece, Senator Chambers has not reacted to the news with massive hyperventilations.

"To have an individual who has associated himself with an organization having a history of lynching, bombings, burnings, racial violence, hatred-not only against black people but Jews and other groups they detest and think have no right to be on the face of the earth-is totally unacceptable.

Sounds damned reasonable to me, Chambers doesn't even seem to be that surprised.

My middle school once hosted a state trooper who spoke with clear longing of a time when applicants could be turned down for being gay. Some years later I saw him berating Tim Butz, the old director of the state ACLU for showing a film on the Patriot Act and "stiring up trouble in a small town"

I don't find this news very surprising myself.

Dé hAoine, Lúnasa 25, 2006

8-3, at best

Perhaps they will have the honor of being throtled in the Holiday Bowl. Otherwise don't expect much. Somebody calm the rabble down before things get ugly.

Déardaoin, Lúnasa 24, 2006

Brainard Daily Dispatch, Aug. 8, 1945

I found this while aimlessly wondering the internet and found it interesting. For one thing, this is clearly the pre-television era. This small town newspaper has more text than the modern New York Times. I wonder what it must have been like to have a functioning attention span.

I also appreciate the high standard of jounalistic objectivity. The annihilation of the filthy Japs is reported without any hint of political spin. If only the Liberal media stopped causing problems for our government. We are at war, and the press should get back to its real job, constantly reinforcing our moral rightousness.

TO Serve as Best we Can, For Victory!

Dé Céadaoin, Lúnasa 23, 2006

School so Far

Just once, I would like to go through a semester in which I don't have a single class where the prof goes around the room and has everybody introduce themselves and "tell everybody something about yourself" I prefer to be a social hermit during the work week and only come out when the females get very friendly. what happened to professional distance? I want professors who can read about my death and not care. When I ask about an assignment, I want the first response to be "I'm sorry, who were you again?" Why the hell else am I paying to go to a large university if not to be just another worker ant, free to passive-aggressively subvert things without gaining too much notice?

Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 22, 2006

Nuclear War On September 12th, everyone invited.

The House Of Yahweh (www.yahweh.com) is a rather interesting little religious sect. I won't call them a cult, because they are not. They really aren't any crazier than the more enthusiastic Pentacostal sects, just more Jewish.

They do believe that Jesus (excuse me, Yeshhua) was the son of God(Yahwah, sorry.) and the messiah; and also that he rose from the dead. But their are little differences. They believe he was executed on a Wednesday instead of Friday, and that he was hung on a straight pole instead of a cross. Why do they consider these differences important? Well, they're kind of vague about that. By the way, Jesus isn't divine either, just the son of God.

They are especially big on clensing true monotheism of Pagan influences. This means no Halloween, no Easter, no Christmas, which they have correctly surmised are nothing but inventions of pagan (European) holidays retrofitted into Christianity. They do celebrate Passover, Yom Kipper, etc. (No word on Haunakah) They also insist on using the original Hebrew when refering to God, Jesus, or any biblical prophets. Any other common name for the diety is spawned from European (pagan) sources and therefore bad. They seem very confident that their grasp of aincient Hebrew is better than everybody else's. This is questionable, but never mind.

All in all, nothing remarkible, certainly nothing dangerous. There is no reason why these people should not be allowed to keep kosher in peace. Even better, they are in the minority. Therefore they are used to being surrounded by people who disagree with them. This certainly gives them a leg up on the country WASP.

But than they had to go and pull this shit. On Sunday night, a very well dressed and polite man handed a HOY newsletter to random students in the NU student union. I was one of them. We all accepted the free gift in a polite Midwestern manner, complete with thank you sirs. Even those who spent five minutes mocking the contents before throwing the letter away included the sir.

In this letter, the sect's leader, Yisrayl Hawkins predicts that nuclear war will start on September 12, 2006. He bases his prophecy on several biblical passages describing unspecific catastrophes of one type or another. Needless to say, there are no specific dates given in any of the cited verses. Hawkins believes that the end is coming soon because this is "the greatest time of sin and trouble ever." No one who understands what went down between 1900 and 1945 would say such a thing.

Worst of all, Hawkins doesn't give any advice on what we should do about the coming apocolypse. He simply says his followers have a sacred duty to warn the world. Very well, I appreciate your warning and take it under advisement. What should I do about it? Does your group have any mandate to save the mortal skins of nonbelievers? Because otherwise, I can't just jump onto your bandwagon now. It's a matter of integrity, you understand. Better to burn in hell and stay honest. Plus, there is the simple fact that I just don't believe you. If you really convinced me, I would drop out of school and spend my life savings on a homewrecker of Hennesey and three top shelf, Las Vegas hookers. Now imagine if I do that and you turn out to be wrong. You really should be more careful (and specific) about predicting the end of the world.

It's just sad how a sect so unique could stoop to the old nutcase cliche of setting a specific date for the end of the world. There are, of course, several sects in every religion who are entirely concerned with the creation and destruction myths of their respective faiths to the exclusion of the moral meat. But the HOY should be too young and obscure for that. They're not even well known enough to be villified for being "outside the mainstream" yet. Really Hawkins! "The end is nigh!" How tragically bland, like Gandalf singing Amazing Grace over shitty canned organ music.

Dé Luain, Lúnasa 21, 2006

Fight Songs: Big 12 Edition

Ah yes, the heartland itself, with the exception of Texas and Colorado, full of states without either truly huge cities or major league teams. A land of traditional values, where reasonably intelligent adults actually expect the college teams to act as male role models for their children and even themselves. come with me and take a big, unguarded step into some Great Plains culture.

Boomer Sooner!
Boomer Sooner!
Boomer Sooner!
(And So On)

Oklahoma, Oklahoma, Oklahoma Okla....
(I am not kidding)

I'm A Sooner Born
I'm a Sooner Bred
And When I Die
I'll Be Sooner Dead

Rah Oklahoma, Rah Oklahoma!
Rah Oklahoma! OKU!

Well, I was pretty rude to Texas A&M for their needlessly elaborate fight song, so I guess I have no room to complain about this one. I'm sure there's at least a few graduates of Ou with a vocabulary in the dozens.

Oklahoma State
Oklahoma State! Oklahoma State!
We'll Sing Your Praise Tonight
To let you Know, Wherever We Go
For the Orange And Black We'll fight
We'll Sing your worth all over the earth
And Shout K! Y! K! YE!
In Books of Fame we'll right your name
Oklahoma State!

This is fairly typical. Cult-like promises of loyalty mixed with gibberish. Along with a typical midwestern pledge to assualt anyone who cheers for the wrong team. But the real comedy gold comes from OSU's touchdown song.

Ride-em cowboys ee-yah!
Ride-em cowboys ee-yah
Ride, Ride, Ride, Ride, Ride
Ride Em Cowboys Down The Field
Fight, Fight, fight, Fight,
Fight em Cowboys and never yield
Ride, Ride, Ride, Ride
Ride on Cowboys to Victory
Cross..... goal
Than We'll Sing
Oklahoma State!

Damn. No wonder you sing their praises at night. It's good to see that OSU has returned to a nice, hard, driving, straining running offense.

Kansas State

Fight, you K-State Wildcats
For your Alma-Mater, Fight, Fight, Fight!
Glory In the Combat!
For the Purple and White
Faithful to Our Colors,
We Shall ever Be
Fighting, Ever fighting
For A Wildcat Victory. Go State!

Here we see facism at its most extreme and destructive. Making war not in the name of racial, national, or religious supremecy, but as an end unto itself. "Glory in the combat." Truly horrifying.

Last, but not least, my humble lair...

There is no Place like Nebraska
Good Old Nebraska U!
The girls are The Fairest
The Boys are the squarest
Of Any old Place that I knew
There is no place like Nebraska
Where they're all true blue
We'll all stick toghether
In all kinds of weather
For good o Nebraska U!

Now isn't that just like a glass of lemonade after an oppresive summer's day? The pledge of loyalty is adequate yet mild. No oaths to "eternal loyalty" or "glory in the combat" This ditty conjures up images of the turn of the 20th century. Just relaxing with one's subservient virgin girlfriend and watching the local 11 cast off the foreign barbarians. Lovely, just lovely.

I may cover other leagues as football season rolls along. But as of now, my mind grows restless.

Dé Domhnaigh, Lúnasa 20, 2006


There are now over 135 student Christian organizations on the UNL campus. I am sure there is some overlap in membership along with some obscure breakaway Unitarian sects that have only three members and exist only on the UNL campus. The shame of it is that these were the only booths giving away worthwhile free shit. I couldn't take any of it, since they of course required you to sign up to an e-mail list- and than they would know me.
Planned Parenthood didn't have any condoms this year, which is a damn shame. Than again, I showed up late, and I only live a few blocks from the actual office. Damned fine organization. Old Chicago pizza tasted like free. It will probably be the last time I ever have Old Chicago pizza. My superior taste in beer is well known and I have no need to spend forty dollars to make a point.

Finally, I actually heard a DJ for one of the local commercial stations (FM107something) actually promise the crowd to keep things crunk. This was followed by the most derivative rap act since PDiddy's hay day. I'd have to say this was the highlight of the day.

Dé Sathairn, Lúnasa 19, 2006

To William Callahan: RE: INVITE

Let's get the most obvious problem out of the way here. You arn't my coach. In the unlikely event that we ever meet personally, you will refer to yourself as Mr. Callahan. Second of all, all practices should be free, what gives you the slightest idea that I would find mechanized men attacking dummies to be the slightest bit entertaining. I'm sure you'll attract a fair share of the crowd that thinks that the weekend starts at noon on Thursday, but no one who is actually going to graduate is going to watch a practice. Finally, how dare you send me a generic form letter? Do you have any idea who I am?

Dé hAoine, Lúnasa 18, 2006

Fight Songs: SEC Edition


War.... Eagle, Fly Down The Field
Ever To Conquer, Never To Yield
War Eagle, Fearless and True
Fight On, You Orange And Blue
Go! Go! Go!
On To Vic'try, Strike Up The Band
Give Em Hell, Give Em Hell
Stand Up And Yell.. Hey!
War Eagle, Win For Auburn
Power Of Dixie Land

Here we have one of the more awkward single lines. (Stand up and yell, hey!) In fact the whole song descends into non-rhyming curses and shouts for a while. We also have the most overt football-is-war motif I've seen so far. I have no idea why people in "Dixieland" are so martial. Their record still sits on 0-1 the last I heard.

So Give A Cheer For Orange and blue
Waving Forever
Forever Pride Of Old Florida
May She Droop Never
We'll Sing A song For The Flag Today
Cheer For The Team At Play
On To The Goal We'll Fight Our Way
For Florida

At least they acknowledge that the team is only playing. Their zeal toward their state is a little disturbing though, especially considering their history. You people will droop your flag in the presence of stars and stripes or else.

Now I See The Importance Of History
Why People Be In The Mess They Be
Many Journeys To Freedom Made In Vain
My Brothers On The Corner Playing Ghetto Games
I Ask You Lord Why You Enlightened Me
Without The Enlightenment Of All My Folks
He said Cuz I set Myself On A quest For Truth
And He was There To Quench My Thirst
But I am Still Thirsty...
The Lord Allowed Me To Drink Some More
He Said What I Am Searchin For Are
The Answers To All Which Are In Front of Me
The Ultimate Truth Started To Get Blurry
For Some Strange Reason It Just Had to Be
It Was All A Dream About Tennessee

Take Me to Another Place
Take Me to Another Land
Make Me Forget All That Hurts Me
Let Me Understand Your Plan

This one is decidedly more haunting and downbeat than the typical fight song. It artfully reflects the despair felt by the children of the civil rights movement as they came of age in the early nineties and saw how much work remained to be done. I applaud the University of Tennessee for their social consciousness.
Dynamite! Dynamite!
When Vandy Starts To Fight
Down The Field With Blood To Shield
If Need Be Save The Shield
If Victory's won when battle's Done
Than Vandy's Name Will Rise In Fame
Win Or Lose The Fates Will Choose
But Vandy's game Will Be The Same
Dynamite! Dynamite!
When Vandy Starts To Fight
V-A-N-D-Y- Vandy, Vandy, Go, Go, Go

Take a close look at this song. I have never seen more blatant Jihadist propaganda. It's called "Dynamite" and the title is repeated frequently. It is utterly fatalistic. Fate (or should I say Allah) will decide who wins and who loses, but as long as the enemy bleeds, it will all be o.k. Save the shield indeed. It will hardly do you any good when your flying in twenty different directions. We must invade Vanderbelt, kill its leaders, and convert the students to Christianity.

Déardaoin, Lúnasa 17, 2006

Back To School Special: Texas Fight Songs

I've Decided To Spend the Next Few Days Highlighting Selected College Fight Songs Based. Those With the most anachronistic slang or most overtly fascist overtones are more likely to get posted. This makes Texas a good place to start.

Tarleton State
On Ye Tareleton
On Ye Tareleton
Break Right Through That Line
Ever Forward, Ever Onward
We'll Get There or Die
On Ye Tareleton, On Ye Tarleton
Fight For Victory
Fight, Texans. Fight! Fight! Fight!
And Win This Game

You'll never win the game if you kill yourselves every time you have to punt.

We'll Raise A Song, Both Loud and Long
To Cheer Our Team To Victory
For TCU, So Tried And True
We Pledge Eternal Loyalty
Fight On Boys, Fight With All Your Might
Roll Up The Scores For TCU
Hail White And Purple Flag
Whose Heroes Never Lag
Horned Frogs, We our All For You

Coach has just declared himself dictator for life? We pledge eternal loyalty.

Texas A&M
Hullabaloo! Caneck! Caneck!
Hullabaloo! Caneck! Caneck!
All Hail To Dear Old Texas A&M
Rally Round The Maroon and White
Good Luck to The Dear Old Texas Aggies
They are the boys who Show the Real old Fight
That Good Old Aggie Spirit Thrills Us
And Makes Us Yell and Yell and Yell
So Let's Fight for Dear Old Texas A&M
We're Going To Beat You All To
Rough! Tough! Real Stuff! Texas A&M!

Hulabaloo! Caneck! (Etc)
Good-bye To Texas University
Goodbye To the Orange and White
Good Luck To the Dear old Texas Aggies
They are the Boys Who SHow The Real Old fight
"The Eyes of Texas are Upon You"
This is The Song They Sing So Well
So Goodbye Texas University
We're Going To Beat You all To
Real Tough! Real Stuff! Texas A&M!

Saw Varsity's Horns Off (Repeat 3x)
Short! AYYYY!
Varsity's Horns are Sawed Off (Repeat 3x)
Short! AYYYY!

1. Here we see Texas-sized egos in play. Fight songs are supposed to be short and simple, not complete with multiple verses and choruses.
2. I believe this song was written by an Ewok who spoke English as a second language. Chig-Gar-Roo-Gar-Rem bitches.
3. The football team plays 11 games a year. Why the obssession with UT? College rivalries are not cute. They are not quaint. They are provencial horseshit, plain and simple. Yes, I know that your big rivalry is a sacred tradition that I just don't understand. Well, that's because there is nothing to understand. Nothing except Victorian era gender indoctrination; strapping young men filled with the martial spirit by their common hatred of the other. In the modern age, this spirit reflects itself through burned couches and slightly more rape victims than a normal weekend. Hail varsity!

The University of Facsist Athletic Department Surrounded by A Pretty Cool Town
Texas Fight! Texas Fight!
And It's GoodBye to A&M
Texas Fight! Texas Fight!
And We'll Put Over one More Win!
Texas Fight! Texas Fight!
For It's Texas That We Love Best!
Hail! Hail! The Gang's All Here!
And It's Goodbye To All The Rest

Yea Orange! Yea White!
Yea Longhorns! Fight! Fight! Fight!
Texas Fight! Texas Fight!
Yea Texas Fight!
Texas Fight! Tex.. (Moving Along Here)
The Eyes Of Texas are Upon You!
All The Live Long Day!
The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You
You Cannot Get Away!
Texas Fight! Texas Fight!
For It's Texas That We Love Best!
Hail! Hail! The Gang's ALl Here!
And It's Goodbye To All The Rest!

This one is slightly better. It's still too long, but they certainly have got the simple part down. Once again, we have obssession with a particular rival. I think I've made my thoughts on this clear enough. We also have the famous"Eyes of Texas are upon you" line. Indeed they are, and you can not get away from the gaze that stares with utter contempt upon all who refuse to recognize its godly superiority.

Dé Céadaoin, Lúnasa 16, 2006

Mr. Heartlands Moral Crisis

The Fall Semester can't come soon enough for me. I have become a living, breathing strawman of what the right declares that Liberalism will lead to. I "embrace" one moral code or another simply for the vaguely sexual pleasure of breaking it. I have embraced irony and debauchery to the point where news of the death of innocents in war leads to nothing but laughter at the human condition. It's not that I consider myself superior, just hopelessly disconnected. I have forgotten that the void is supposed to make me feel bad. The organized schedule of school can do nothing but save me. I am nothing but an empty hedonistic rake.

But enough of this pussy-ass Myspace whining. I still have five days of summer left, so here's an open invitation to come to my apartment for Faces of Death and freebase coke. Come one come all

Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 15, 2006

100th post Blowout

I can't afford champagne, so the next best thing is to immaturely offend anyone who comes accross my site. Take this Google Adsense.

Dé Luain, Lúnasa 14, 2006

Concert Review

How to Describe the electronic phase for "Of Montreal"? As showcased Friday night at Knickerbockers? I could go for cheap one liners; The Beatles and Bowie go on a seven day laughing gas binge toghether and decide to make an album. Woodstock Disco (Or better yet, "Frisco Disco LOL)

Their sound is centered on the most melting-plastic-perfect synth lines that have been heard since sampling technology allowed artists of the lazy ass P Diddy/Playstation generation to rip off Bernie Worrel for their next club banger. Add to this a Eurotrash circus stage show that perfectly compliments the music. The wordplay in the lyrics is complex while still catchy, mystical and intelligent without being unintentionally funny. The energy of the show... damn...and also... damn.

The only way it could be better is if the band was playing at my personal compound where I could eat X and service my slave girls at my leisure. Simply put, Of Montreal is the band for anyone who enjoys splitting rails of coke with one's pet giraffe and "manservant" (And isn't this everybody?)

I've heard a nasty rumour that Barnes and the gang our moving away from their dance music phase and back to a more "personal" sound. There is a good chance that this could be good as well. I certainly hope it isn't code for stereotypical indie mumbling and guitar fuzz. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it would be a devolution for these guys.) Whatever comes in the future, I'm going to sorely miss the sound of a thousand patchouli scented robot bees swarming through my head, and I'm glad I got to experience the feeling live while I still had the chance.

Dé Sathairn, Lúnasa 12, 2006

This May or May Not Be The Post Where I Get to the Point About Ward Churchill

As a nerd, I usually preread some of the material for the upcoming semester. I'm taking a Native American Lit class this fall, and decided to skim through what looked like the densest required book in the class. This would be "The State of Native America" published by Colorado-Boulder in 1992. The book includes several contributions from, you already know.

Churchill is every bit as radical the "Little Eichmann's" crack would lead you to believe. He and other contributers frequently and unabashedly call on the U.S. to return native land to the point that it returns itself out of existence. Churchill, always in a bone-dry academic tone' calls for the United States to be replaced by something "infinitely better" and name drops Castro and the Sandinistas as examples of how revolutions can overcome long odds. Another writer, John Mohawk, says that white Americans never feel quite at home. Since America is nothing but a breakaway colony that turned into an empire, he reasons, the U.S. is completely illigitimate, existing as "nothing but a government". ( His implication that true nationhood is based on blood and soil is usually considered very right-wing.)

As I have no soul, I am offended by nothing. So I'm not bothered by either the "Eichmann's" crack or the suggestion that the U.S. be replaced by something "infinitely better" I have also heard that Churchill is lying about his claim to native ancestry. Well, that would be a trifling thing, really, there are worse moral failings than that. Though I would suggest that this is 2006, and a man dosn't need elaborate excuses to wear his hair long in middle age. One thing that did piss me off was the fact that Churchill footnotes himself at least twenty times. Who the hell does that, honestly? (Eating boiled plague rats will make men grow a second penis out of the right nipple. See "Beran: Little known Facts About Mammals; Heartland Press)

In all seriousness though, the political "left" can be divided into two camps, liberal reformers and radical destroyers. Churchill is clearly a member of the later.(Again and again "The State of Native America" attacks the center-left for having the audacity to focus on poverty and woman's rights instead of advocating violent native land seizure) The problem is that he just isn't a very good radical. Radicals do have their place. Churchill could have used his talent for saying outrageous things and made himself into a (maybe) half-indian George Carlin. But he wanted to be an intellectual, what a shame. There have been lots of intellectuals, only a tiny elite of them have any impact on society. Goethe never footnoted himself.

As a member of the "liberal reformer" camp, (However caustic I may be at times) I have never bought into the narrative of all-american children being corrupted by radical professors. In fact, I consider this narritive to be dangerously anti-democratic and anti- free thought. And I don't have much patience for cheap conservative cracks about "The People's republic of Boulder/Berkeley/Madison, etc. Boulder is a fine town, so long as you get out before the jocks start hitting the Coors. Having said that, it does seem as if Churchill had created a little fiefdom for himself in the U.C. Boulder Native Studies department. Surrounded by like-minded associates; who spent their time playing playgound games of deriding the center-left and daring each other to say something more radical than the other. The fact that this has finally gotten Churchill into some trouble shouldn't be the least bit surprising.

(This has been Mr. Heartland's token appeal to the center for 2006. Be sure to come back tomorrow when I angrly demand the legalization of cocaine and accuse Pete Rickitts of raping his slaves, thank you and good night.)

Dé hAoine, Lúnasa 11, 2006

Ward Churchill is after your girlfriend

A while ago I had a dream where I was attending a get-together at a good friends house back in North Platte. Ward Churchill was there. I saw no reason why not; I associate myself with the beautiful people. There was a train wreck along the tracks accross the street. In the real world, my friend lives half a mile from the railroad. Never mind. The men in the house organized ourselves into a rescue party. Mr. Churchill did not come.

As I recall, none of the victims were dead. As a matter of fact, no one was seriously wounded . They just needed us to move debris out of the way so that they could walk out themselves and go about their business. The rescue mission took most of the day; but this was only because we would take long and frequent coffee breaks back at the house; an hour at the wreck, an hour back in the dining room with our Folgers and Camels, that's how it went. Keep in mind, we wern't leaving anybody to bleed to death. All the victims were perfectly fine, just stuck is all. You should try moving twisted metal sometime and see how ling you can last without needing a break.

Anyhow, it came to my attention that Ward Churchill was spending all of this time hitting on various women in the house. I thought nothing of it, he's a man just like the rest of us. Later still, however, I noticed that he was only hitting on other mens wives and girlfriends, while ignoring all the single girls. This was simply low down. It was bad enough that he wasn't helping us free the mildly inconvenienced train wreck victims. He had to go and steal all of our women while we were out. Quite deliberately mind you. He was intentionally ignoring the single women just to show his contempt for polite society, and I know for a fact that he stole at least three of my cigarettes.

I am not a mystical person by any means. I am a heartless journalism major in a godless university. Normally, I would tell you with perfect conviction that the human brain has only two talents; logic and empirical knowledge. There is no common sense, there is no intuition, there is no revelation, there is no third eye. Normally I would say this. But I woke up that morning without the slightest doubt that I had met the real Ward Churchill. I've never really met him, of course. But if you ask me what he's like; I could tell you with upmost certainty that he is a total bastard who will steal your woman and your cigarettes.

(Stay tuned for a slightly more relevant and coherent take on Churchill tomarrow)

Dé Céadaoin, Lúnasa 09, 2006

NU Hires New Basketball Coach

Praise be to him that realizes that existence is doom and offers himself to our horrible lord to be eaten first.

Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 08, 2006

Whatever You Say Chief

"You know, I hear people say, Civil War this, Civil War that." "The Iraqi people decided against Civil War when they went to the ballot box."
President Bush

Dé Luain, Lúnasa 07, 2006

The Beatles, Prog Rock And America

There has been some talk lately of the 40th anniversary of "Revolver". This is a masterpiece, by the way, and is almost universally recognized as such, almost. There are those who say that is only the Beatles hadn't gone all freaky with "Revolver" and "Sgt. Pepper" than rock music would have never been infected with pretension, and the world would never have had to suffer through Man O' War's 35 minute heavy metal version of the Illiad. This is simply unfair.

True, The Beatles had their place in the development of Prog-Rock, but they are not wholly responsible for, and certainly not guilty of, its worst excesses. Don't forget about the Who. (A Quick One While He's Away, Tommy) and don't forget about the power of culture.

Notice how most of the earliest art-rock bands (Yes, Emerson-Lake-and Palmer, Pink Floyd) were British. British children experience a more "classical" education than Americans do, complete with Mozart, Verdi, and Beethoven. Any Englishman who picks up an instrument feels more pressure to make "serious" music than a Yankee does. This also somewhat applies to Canada (Rush) which has always been; culturally and politically, more loyal to daddy than the U.S.
Keep in mind that Rock'nRoll is our music, descended from our own blue-collar folk music traditions. It's funny how we are more conservative than our old European oppressors about so many things, yet populist to the point of anarchist when it comes to art and culture. The idea that an artist should try as hard as he/she can to show how much he/she is just like everyone else is uniquely American. From this perspective than, European prog-rock acted as a sort of nationalism. An attempt by alums of the Queen's art shools to seperate themselves from American crudity.

One should also avoid the reverse snobbery of dismissing all art-rock out of hand. Proggers who covered traditional anti-authoritarian rock themes (Pink Floyd) made some truly great music. For the best proof that brainy rock music has its place, look no further than post-punk. Punk music was supposed to clense rock music of the 15 minute drug songs of the 70's, and this was necessary to a point. Yet as soon as Punk gained a place in society; we had Television and the Talking Heads, getting all artsy and smart-ass on us.

The populist ethos of rock can reach a point where it itself becomes oppressive. We all love to brag. Some people like to brag about how often they get laid, or how poor they are. Others like to brag about how smart they are, or how far they can drag out a gutar riff. It's the same thing. We can emphesize the blue-collar roots of rock music all we want. We can launch as many reform movements and purges against heretical nerds that we want. But the fact is that Rock is music, and therefore it is art; and any form of art will always attract people who want to show off their brains. Just think how much poorer the world would be if "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" was the most ambitious thing rock'n roll had ever done.

Dé Domhnaigh, Lúnasa 06, 2006

Sundays are rather boring, don't you agree?

This is what happens when you do a google instant search for "fat girl". Not "Fat girl Porn" or "Hot fat girls want too fuck you now" just fat girl. She's not even that fat.

10/28/2006: Qwest Center Omaha

Wyld fucking Stallions bitches. The show is, of course, sold out. But if you should happen to want some tickets, (You know you do) send fifty dollars to me, Mr. Heartland. I'm not going to give out my address over the internet, but I have "people" you can contact. If you don't know who "they" are; well, you're just lame. You would only get yourself killed at a Stallions concert anyway.

Party on motherfuckers.

Dé Sathairn, Lúnasa 05, 2006

Robert Phares appointed To Hergert's Nu Regents Seat Seat.

I'm from North Platte, so I suppose I should know something about the former mayor. But no, I've got nothing off the top of my head. He's rich, and he runs an insurance agency from somewhere in downtown Flatrock (I'm thinking 4th and Vine, don't quote me). I should mention that North Platte is culturally much more modest and midwestern than the cowboys in the panhandle. So just in case Phares is crooked (he seems far too boring for that, but you never know.) don't expect him to try to brag, bluster, and bullshit his way out of trouble like Hergert did.

Phares has promised to tow the governor's line on stem-cell research. With any luck, we can soon catch up too southern states in our commitment to protect undiffrentiated zygotes. At least Heineman didn't pick Kathy Wilmot. This would be the woman who is such a theocratic nutcase that she was voted off the state board of education by the solidly Republican voters of western

Dé hAoine, Lúnasa 04, 2006

We must stand with Isreal unconditionally in her war against the barbarian

Guess which side did this. (Hint, it wasn't terrorists. How could it be? If muslims didn't do it, than it coudn't possibly be terrorist.)

Let's Kill Castro Now

Sure, our current "wait for him to die" strategy makes far more sense than the unbelievibly stupid assassination plots that were being thought up in the sixties. But just think about how funny it would be. You just know there's some old soldier in the CIA who still thinks his arsenic-laced cigar brought to Fidel by a Miami exile disguised as a cross-eyed belly dancer with an attitude plan could still work. Let's make the old codger happy. If nothing else, let's do it for old Lee Oswald. While our own spies were thinking up needlessly elaborate plots to dispose of invincible supermen, Oswald realized that world leaders die just as easily as the rest of us. We spend millions of tax dollars, he doesn't even need a lunch break. So let's steal some of his thunder by dusting off one of those Rube Goldberg plots and making it work. Let's bring back the can-do spirit of early 60's America, let's kill Castro before he dies.

Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 01, 2006

What would make me happy in my old age

I just watched a spot of "The Upside of Anger". It's a total chick flick, but if one learns to see amusing depravities between the lines as I have, it is well worth the time. Joan Allan plays a jaded, drunken bourgeois middle-aged devorcee who is mother of four teenage daughters. This is the sort of woman I'm going to marry. I refuse to settle for anything less. Kevin Costner plays the knight in shining armor, pursuing Allan and matching her drink for drink. It is quite clear that he is really after the underage girls. Who wouldn't be? I don't think I'm being out of line when I say that all men fantasize about being the abusive step-father. I know it's wrong. So very, very, filthy and wrong, but I guess some of us are a little more liberated. Lovely daughter you have there Maam, need help with your groceries?