04/22/13

Freedom Trail

If you’ve ever been to Boston you’ve probably been forced to walk, likely by a mom or wife, some portion of the “Freedom Trail” against your will. You have to wonder why one must abandon so much self determination to walk a trail named “freedom” but, anyway. The Freedom Trail is, of course, a walking tour of Boston’s historic sites, where I’m proud to say I had a pair of Stan Smith’s re-cobbled only a few years ago. I also had a bracelet smithed out of a soup spoon.

Liberty is a type of collusion. An agreement among everyone to respect the rule of law in service of freedom. It’s completely voluntary.

Collusions, however, are easily broken. In fact, there is extraordinarily high incentive to do so. Our susceptibility to violence, therefore, is evidence of how well and complete the collusion of our liberty is working. We’re easy pickings. When an assailant from within or without violates the contract — the agreement not to fall into anarchy — they exact from us a cost. A toll for being so free, so open, so liberated. Our martyrs, whether at a marathon or in an elementary school or on a skyscraper, are a kind of penance paid to democracy and inalienable rights. Like a soldier or revolutionary, when we are murdered exercising our freedoms, even ones as routine as a road race, it is literally a kind of patriotic act. Every mundane act of our lives is a declaration that we would be free in spite of the ongoing danger to do so.

They’ll run again next year. A marathon and a freedom trail.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

Pronation

03/17/13

One Shining Moment

It took me most of the evening but I feel pretty confident about my pick:

Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) v. The Nashville Predators

SCAD cuts down the nets.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by djclutch.

Today’s song blog here:

The Madness

03/13/13

The Best Pope Ever

I know something about lifetime appointments. Nearly all my “bosses” have one.

Life tenure is necessary to insulate certain kinds of authority from external and political pressures. An island of objectivity.

But, pardon me for stating the obvious but a “lifetime” is a really long time. Through age and illness and general decomposition, we all become less capable in time. There’s no universal expiration date, of course. I’m only in my thirties and I can’t even remember the members of New Edition. Bobby, Johnny, . . . err . . . For some, an S&S Cafeteria cottage cheese & pear salad palate, however, develops not until their sixties or seventies. And, yet for others, they continue sharp and spry well into their nineties. But, at some point our faculties fail us. And, when they do, a lifetime appointment can become a quite less virtuous thing, especially for those who may be subject to this frozen but decliningly capable authority.

Self awareness is uncommon. Especially, when the nature of the position held disallows or strongly discourages any critique. Judges and Popes come to mind.

When Pope Benedict XVI announced his retirement for health concerns, I privately called shenanigans. I felt certain there was an underlying scandal or political motive. Especially considering the longstanding allegations that Pope Benedict may have been party to covering up various sexual abuse prior to his papacy.

But, then I asked myself, “Why so cynical?” That’s the sort of dignity and self-examination I would like to end with. Instead of carrying on, where he can’t or allowing a kind of puppet regime to continue, he abdicates. It’s a rare thing. He’s the Pope. Of God. Until his last breath to be venerated. And, yet he recognized his own frailties and had more respect for the high calling of his authority maybe than any before him — to let it go.

The whole thing reminds me of this classic Jim Gaffigan bit where he imagines just a regular boy dreaming of one day being Pope, as though he were dreaming to be just some regular demagogue, say Joe DiMaggio.

Pantamiming to the roar of a feigned crowd, with the play-by-play announcer, “The Best. Pope. Evvvver!”

Maybe, in his resignation, Benedict was.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by Dave Santos.

Today’s blong here:

Have to Fail

02/17/13

Happy President’s Day, All You Presidents!

No man will ever carry out of the Presidency the reputation which carried him into it.

- Thomas Jefferson

president's hair

Performed by ipoet.  Music produced by nomold.

Today’s blong here:

The Least Powerful King

02/13/13

Will you?

This is dedicated to all the men who have some difficulty planning Valentine’s Day. Wait, that’s redundant.

Happy Valentine’s Day to my beautiful and gracious wife.

wva j&s

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

Be Mine

02/13/13

Through the Woods

My dad was career FBI. But before he joined the Bureau he was a beat cop in Bessemer, Alabama, a small town outside Birmingham, and famously Bo Jackson’s hometown. (My dad was also rumored to have dunked a stick in the 7th grade . . . in a cup of coffee.)

My mom was regularly asked about whether she feared for my father while he was working bank robberies or hijackings or kidnappings as a federal agent. She always said no. For her, the element of surprise and uncertainty inherent in the work-a-day demands of a street cop were far more dangerous than the relatively informed and prepared investigatory work of an FBI agent. When an agent walks in on a suspect, they typically know everything. A cop is almost completely blind.

No matter your view of them, police officers perform a terrifying service. I think we underestimate, severely, the nerves that we might feel just approaching a Toyota Sierra (an admittedly horrifying vehicle) on a traffic stop, much less an IROC-Z after a car chase or a domestic dispute on a house call. So when cops find themselves facing real weapons and real bad guys on real drugs down dark alleys, the emotional energy must be off the charts.

There are a lot of bad, invidious reasons for police brutality. And, it sounds like Chris Dorner was possibly the latest, in a long line, blowing the whistle on LAPD. But, as we rightly condemn it, we should also try and understand. I know its their job, but I have always imagined that if I were quelling a prison riot or taking down a suspect, I, too, might be a little more preemptive and a little more excessive with my force than the moment might objectively require. Hit him before he hits you, sort of thing. Not an excuse. Just an explanation.

So the last thing a cop needs, on top of every other kind of danger and assault posed against him, is one of his own, another cop, trying to take him down.

So, even if Dorner had cause to accuse, he never had it to kill.

And by the way, the answer to today’s question is (a) villain. Just so I’m clear.

white cabin

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

Manhunt

02/9/13

White Flag

Sometimes you just can’t improve on the Onion. They do North Korea better than anyone. If you haven’t heard, North Korea claims to have conducted three nuclear weapons tests this last week.

Some of my thoughts on the ambitions of an armorized North Korea, previously, here and a retread of the blong below.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by pumpknFoot.

Today’s song blog here:

Shining Star

02/1/13

Coming Out

I don’t know why I’ve chosen to do it now and in this way. I apologize, in advance, to so many of you who won’t understand.

I know it will catch many by surprise, considering the image I project in my music life. Others may have long suspected. Regardless, I am aware that your view of me will be forever changed.

My parents and wife know and maybe a few confidantes along the way. Otherwise, I’ve been pretty private about it.

There’s nothing unique about my story, really. I’ve known since very young. 7 or 8. Suffered pretty relentless teasing about it. Kids laughed at the way I dressed and my extra-curriculur interests. Suggested I wasn’t a real boy/man. Heard an occasional “fag” or “queer.” Definitely caught some grief on the ball field and basketball court. As the campaign goes, though, things certainly have “gotten better.” And, many of those same attributes, which were the subject of shame in my youth, have become the qualities employers and friends have affirmatively sought in my adulthood. I’m more independent and self-assured and thoughtful for the experience of it, even if some memories will never be resolved.

Now, well into my thirties, I still have reservations about sharing the truth with others, afraid of what they might assume by association. And, then there is the matter of the kids. What do you tell them? What kind of messages are they receiving from others, at school and in the news? Would you allow them to follow their own hearts?

But, for me, in the face of the present and public outcry, to continue silently and anonymously seems a sort of lie and abdication. As a member of that community with some audience, I think I have a kind of duty to render an opinion, whether anyone asked or not. I really don’t have a lot to gain from this announcement. It just seems right.

The sashes and the knee high socks. An occasional “overnight” with the boys. “Pitching a tent,” so to speak.

You’ve probably guessed by now.

I’m a Boy Scout.

And, not just any Totin-Chip-Card carrying Scout, either. An Eagle Scout. Order of the Arrow, service project, bolo-tie, and all.

Long before the present controversy over whether the Boy Scouts of America should count open homosexuals among its ranks, I’ve had my reservations about the direction of scouting and my fidelity to it. The world is a different place. I’m a different person.

And, so this is a dicey subject for me. To condemn Boy Scouts is to betray a part of me and my family and my heritage. But, to affirm it, without some qualification, would be to also betray an important part of what I’ve come to believe about liberty and personal consciousness and freedom before God. And, so I would try to avoid doing either.

I’m proud to be a Boy Scout and of the Eagle Scout rank, in particular. I’m probably not what you’d call a “Scout’s Scout.” I have sensitive hands and I generally prefer Aldo boots to hiking ones. My father-in-law and Uncle-in-law, both also Eagle Scouts, won’t let me roast a marshmallow. But, I worked hard in scouting and was asked, as a result, to really face some of the limits of who I was as a person, even at a young age. To this day, I think there are very few opportunities as a young person to develop that kind of perspective. It’s a “boy lead” structure that puts real responsibility on young men. Almost any that I have, responsibility that is, I would credit so much of it to my time in scouting.

But, more importantly, Boy Scouts is an organization built on things like principle and honor and standards and values, particularly those in service and self-sacrifice. And, I can lend my support to almost any group that does.

But, some of those values aren’t modern. Belief in God. Gender segregation. Rejection of homosexuality. And, with all three, I would probably express some departure, in form and practice, if not in substance.

But to point that out doesn’t make you some grand philosopher king. I can’t think of anything easier to confess, or to accuse, than that Boy Scouts isn’t perfect. Welcome to the human race.

Even still, I would say that the scouting virtues of kindness and friendliness and courteousness and the duty to “help other people at all times” would be self-condemning in this instance. It’s like the church and military. Those they would seek to exclude are already participating. I remember them clearly myself. It’s just a question of whether they would be permitted to do so with some dignity and without the fear of shame.

As with religion, however, these are matters largely of personal conviction. So, solutions that permit some autonomy to handle these issues at the local level seem best suited, to me. But, more critically, because scouting is an organization that esteems so highly the ideals of conviction and personal conscious, I would hope that it would always err on the side of allowing individual scouts to find their own way.

None of the tease “confession” in my open was hyperbolic. A little melodramatic, maybe, but not exaggerated. Of course, I would be embarrassed to equate some of the discomfort one might have experienced by association with scouting, now or then, to the deeply scarring and life threatening experiences that gay and lesbian youth have suffered. That psychology and consequence is deep.

Yet, there is this strange parallelism in our country where the mainstreaming of LGBT identification has come at the hour of scouting’s increasing marginalization. The tables have, in a sense, been turned. To associate yourself as a Boy Scout is to side increasingly with the less popular view.

I have sorrow in my heart for the controversy. He is not now, and I don’t expect my son ever will be, a scout. I always assumed he would. That is, of course, as much about the many other choices vying for the attention of kids today as it is some intentional choice not to. But, all the same, there is some hole.

I’m a Boy Scout. And, here’s to Boy Scout’s being as trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent as they can find it in their oath and law and motto and slogan to be.

boy-scout-back-cover399

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

On My Honor

01/31/13

Como say huh?

So the bipartisan Gang of 8 has proposed an immigration bill that would provide a “pathway to citizenship,” as they say, for many undocumented workers already in the country. To the extent it has some Republican support in the Senate, this represents a kind of reverse course. The November election, among other lessons, has conservatives revisiting their immigration views, in tone, at least, if not in substance. But, the gesture might not be as altruistic as it seems.

An interesting Congressional Weekly article discusses the boon, to the economy, alien legitimization might bring. A similar 1986 immigration act had the effect of raising wages of formerly undocumented workers by 15.1 percent. The Cato Institute has speculated that this present bill might add as much as $1.5 trillion to the gross domestic product over 10 years. But, critically, the article didn’t speculate as to whom specifically such benefits might actually inure — previously undocumented workers or the country as a whole.

So, does anyone recall why Emelio built you a fire pit last fall and not, let’s say, Jimbo Jones?

Anybody?

Nope, it wasn’t his outgoing personality.

Anyone else?

No, I don’t believe you preferred his automated help desk.

Another?

Good thought but I don’t think hair product was dispositive.

What did you say? Speak up.

You say he was roughly 20% cheaper than Jimbo? Huh. Interesting.

[As an aside, my wife and I lived next to an actual Jimbo Jones during law school. Every time you tried to pet his terrier it would unexpectedly choke up a mouthful of pine cone apparently having been lodged in its throat for hours.]

All things being equal — with respect to cost and quality, I suspect that most people are picking the guy who looks like them and who employs a language whose grammar rules recommend placing the modifier in front of the object not the other way around. “A plane of the air!” Not racism just sort of human.

So, what is actually being lauded about the new bill, in the prospect of higher wages, might not ultimately benefit these newly legitimized workers. It would seem that if wages of these laborers equalize with the wages of those already in the marketplace it will just make for a more crowded marketplace. And, as already implied, non-English speaking laborers may not continue to be the workers of choice, once all else is equal. Moreover, and I’m not any kind of economics anything, but it seems that this likely glut of new workers will drive down, generally, the market value of wages for all such workers in any particular industry. I think that’s just called supply and demand.

So, there are a couple of possible outcomes when they make Emelio “official” and the price for the services he traditionally rendered goes up.

1. Less fire pits are going to be built, overall.

2. Less fire pits are going to be built by freshly legitimized Emelio but more by Jimbo Jones.

3. Less fire pits are going to be built by legitimized Emelio but more by Estevez, Emelio’s, let’s just say, “less legitimized” nephew newly over from the motherland.

See a pattern? No Emelio.

So, ironically, this “pathway to citizenship” is really a kind of primrose one. I’m not accusing anybody, but in a sense, certain Republicans could be seen as co-opting undocumented workers in this move. Illegal aliens presently get the work because they benefit from less overhead — no taxes or labor laws. Their cost of doing business is less. Legitimization, however, would get them all on the grid, so to speak, especially their wages.

There are a lot of reasons to provide opportunities for amnesty and legitimization to so many of the individuals who have come to our country, including moral, political, and, yes, financial ones. It certainly might be a boon to our economy.

Just maybe not theirs.

victor cruz

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by Sundance.

Today’s blong here:

Victor Cruz

DOUBLE BLONG DAY! I’ve reposted Outskirters, below, from off my last full length record, Prince With a Thousand Enemies, which is loosely themed on Richard Adams’ literary classic, Watership Down. The song, itself, concerns our mounting attitudes and hostilities towards immigration in this country and the hispanic community in general. So, I thought I’d pull it out for an encore. The album and song can be purchased here or on itunes. Actually, I meant to say should be bought at one of those two places.

Outskirters

01/30/13

Deer Blind

For those of you who don’t own any camouflage, wooden duck calls, or lawn gnomes, a deer blind is a kind of small, single or double occupancy, hunting shelter, typically elevated, that disguises the gunman from Bambi. I guess the simple advantage of a long-range firearm and scope is apparently not enough imbalance in the transaction.

It’s also what we are, apparently. Deer blind.

Because, if the Deer Antler Spray Bowl doesn’t convince you that GMAs (Genetically Modified Athletes (trademark pending)) are the future, I don’t know what will. I actually think the clinical term is “Antler Velvet Liposomal.” It sounds like a Belk cologne. Or maybe a delicious cake.

Deer-Antler-Spray-IGF-1-spray

Ray Lewis, the Baltimore Ravens pro-bowl linebacker, is alleged to have sprayed a deer antler hardener under his tongue to accelerate the recovery of his torn triceps, as well as drunk negatively charged water and maybe re-eaten his own once-digested ear wax. It doesn’t matter whether or not he actually did. Even that the idea might have materialized in someone else’s mind just for the purposes of falsely accusing him of it is enough lunacy to prove the point. Athletes, and the scientists and handlers that would cater to their success, will do anything to gain competitive advantage. Witches brew, monkey brain, water aerobics. (Don’t laugh. The Y has a brutal class.) But, as it turns out Deer Antler spray might be rampant, one of those industry secrets for which the rest of us are just now getting a late pass.

So we can either continue deer blind, so to speak, or we can accept that so long as there are people running and jumping and tackling each other there are going to be people injecting animal parts into their human parts. I mean, surely it’s one of the Seven Seals or Bowls of the Biblical Tribulation that the demure and gentlemenly Vijay Singh, of all people, is quoted as saying something to the effect: “I didn’t know that antler extract was banned.” Whhaaat?? Vijay’s on the antler sauce?

I’m just telling you. This is a no win deal. But, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, I think the saying goes. So, for today’s blong, I’ve detailed my recommendations for staying in peak competitive form, well into your early 90s. Now, you might grow a lion’s mane and a small schnauzer tail but you’ll be able to dominate neighborhood H.O.R.S.E for years to come. Your fingernails might fall out as well. But, you’ll be able to throw your curbside trash can 150 yards. You’ll have no elbows. But, you’ll do 500 pushups at at a time — with your tongue. You’ll smell like panda. But, your teeth will win an olympic medal in three events. You’ll grow wings and a scorpion stinger.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by djclutch.

Today’s blong here:

Deer Blind