07.04.08
fireworks
Breakfast today (at noon): Oat flakes with Enriched Vanilla Rice Dream, accented with Thai coconut milk.
I sense a Metaphor.
Oh — plus grain-sweetened vegan chocolate chips.
Oh-oh — plus HAWAIIAN SPRINGS Natural Artesian Water, Bottled Daily at Mauna Loa (it actually tastes a bit more oceany than, say, Crystal Geyser or the other cheapos — I don’t do “Drinking Water”).
Reverse-engineering a segue here: Apparently the guy who most heavily promoted Bozo the Clown (in effect: “Bozo the Clones”) died yesterday — of congestive heart failure (like most Americans; ‘nother cheeseburger, Lar?). I’m not sure who portrayed the Bozo I watched on TV as a kid — Channel 9, Chicago, WGN was it? — but I never liked him. I found him disturbing. Not simply because he was a clown — Steven Martin and Ellen DeGeneres are both clowns, and I don’t find them disturbing (merely pathetic) — but because he sounded like some crazy-ass war-vet chain-smoker who narrowly swerved off the pedophile path by becoming a kiddie-TV host. (Is this to speak ill of, perhaps, Raffi? No. He’s definitely a man direly in need of shaking out his sillies — but he attempted to woo my girlfriend in the early ’90s, and managed [by her telling; accuracy unknown] to hold hands on the beach with her — thus, Raffi is both above-board and hetero. I wasn’t bothered; he’s Raffi; how threatening is that?)
Back to Bozo, though (and briefly): It seems to me quite fitting that Bozo chose American Independence Day to die; this place has been known as a nation of clowns for too long. (Now if we can only find some way to get Mickey Mouse to “eat the bad cheese”…)
Which awkwardly brings us back to Hawai’i. Last night I observed a performance of some of Hawai’i’s most popular musical performers (Na Leo and some short guy who sounds like a Latino Cat Stevens), and the largest woman in Na Leo mentioned that she had recently visited Disneyland and acquired for herself “Mouse ears with dreadlocks” — which, naturally, caused me to Think: Is that a good thing?
I mean, corporate acknowledgement that not every person on Earth is white with no facial hair (the idealised Look of Disney) — that’s a good step. But selling polyester dreads attached to the corporate headdress? To me, that does not sound progressive.
But hey, it made the large Hawai’ian woman happy. She likes Reggae. Part of their troupe’s deal is touring to promote tourism (another corporate ideal) — thus, for her, Reggae probably represents Freedom — like it does for most people (although, of course, even Ziggy Marley is in the pocket of Hollywood and Target — and his legendary dad was once commissioned to write a tourism anthem for Jamaica [pretty sure it wasn’t the one we used to hear on WGN as kids…])
Hm.
I lost a twenty, yesterday, too — in the midst of hot, sweaty activity. So I suppose it was worth it.
Ordinarily — since all of the corporations have passed me by, and presently I couldn’t afford the fuel for a company car (this is the Alpha and Omega of my rumination upon the current fuel bludgeoning — I find the topic brain-witheringly boring) — I would get very, very, very mildly upset by losing the energy represented by a twenty-dollar bill.
However, a few years ago, I was in dire need of “completion funds” to pay a bill which was already overdue. It so happened that I strode past an ATM — out of which was dangling (this is true) a twenty-dollar bill.
I waited five minutes.
I gave the Universe ample opportunity to reclaim its money.
And then I took it.
And I paid my bill in full.
(Thanks.)
Thus, if the Universe took back the twenty yesterday — well, that just means we’re even.
(I still have to make MUCH more than that, anyway. Money. Ick. Money.)
Billy Bragg recently joked about the lame-ass American dollar — how, in a coffee shop in Everett, Washington, they told the proprietress that all they had was Canadian dollars. “Oh, that’s okay,” came her reply, “WE TAKE THEM!!!!” To this, Bragg extrapolated (her hungry tone): “You don’t happen to have any o’ them ENGLISH POUNDS on ya, do ya????” (”And then we backed cautiously out the door.”)
News: Apparently, one of my favourite places — not only in California, but in the whole world — is on fire: Big Sur — and this makes me frown. Meanwhile, a super-long cut of Fritz Lang’s mega-brilliant Metropolis has been discovered — and this makes me smile (although the latter certainly does not compensate for the former — I’d prefer it if Buenos Aires went poof, while Metropolis was safely ensconced in a vault in Big Sur — but we can’t have everything).
Oh: Since today is “that day,” let’s briefly address America.
I am not a patriot.
Nope — not in the least.
Never have been!
Even when I visited East Berlin for a day — before the Wall came down — and it was fucking MISERABLE over there (your Western imagination — even buttressed by the craftily processed nightmares of CNN — may not be adequate to mock up what East Germany was like back then — oh, and incidentally, the security for El Al just loved that stamp on my passport!) — even then, as I desperately sang “God Bless America” in superstitious fear that I might somehow be rejected on the way back through Checkpoint Charlie — I nonetheless felt, somewhere in my Core, “Y’know, I wish America didn’t insist on being so EMBARRASSING in front of the rest of the world all the time!”
You know the details. (Pride. Ignorance. Violence.)
It’s not that I don’t like fun — I love fun — I just grow weary (direly, desperately weary) of shallow, stupid fun. Farting around. I hate farting around. Which — apparently — is what Thomas Jefferson reaped in return for all that preparatory paperwork he drew up.
Sad.
When I studied in England, I took a course called Society and Politics in the USA. This was extremely enlightening. Not only did I really learn — as in, “don’t learn it, don’t pass” — how alleged Outsiders view America (mostly: “A Social Experiment Gone Terribly Awry”) — I also noticed (and you may cheer here if it feels good) how amazingly ignorant I was/am — mostly from living in America.
Citizens of America: They like to keep you stupid and shopping. Is this really what you want?
To quote an astute Englishman — dear departed Douglas “D.N.A.” Adams:
“Every country is like a particular type of person. America is like a belligerent adolescent boy, Canada is like an intelligent thirty-five-year-old woman. [Oh, to dream! -Ed.] Australia is like Jack Nicholson…”
-Douglas Adams
There’s also a guy from Georgia, U.S.A. (who now abides in Seattle, USA and Hawai’i, USA and pretty much anywhere else he wants; thank you, Warner Bros.) — we’ve met a couple of times (the first time in Blighty) — and his name is Peter Buck. He makes electrified string noises for the musical combo known as R.E.M. (whose former manager, who was fired in shame, defined as “Really Enjoy Masturbating”) — and in an interview, Peter Buck once referred to himself as “a citizen of the world.”
I concur with this.
I also told this to a British girl I briefly dated — she was really, really nice but basically wanted a “Kevin Costner” to call her own — to which she replied, “What a bloody hippie!”
(Communication. You know, we try. Well…some of us try.)
Thus, friends (and otherwise), I gotta say:
I DO NOT LIKE NATIONALISM.
~Gregory
And while we’re at it:
I DO NOT LIKE RELIGION.
~Gregory
To me — and this is my Core speaking (and possibly my Kore speaking) — these notions — nationalism, religion, secret handshakes — these are wholly hostile, nasty, “Us”-Vs.-”Them” precepts.
What good is that shit?
There was a brief period — very brief — when I waltzed with nationalism. This was due to Johnny “Cougar” Mellencamp (a.k.a. — according to a fat Goth girl with whom I slaved in a retail clothing outlet — John Menstrualcramp). Why? Well, he almost — almost! — seduced me with the riff of “Jack and Diane,” with “Rumble Seat,” with “Play Guitar” with the video (not the song) for “Pink Houses” and with his unfathomably lousy dancing in the “Hurts So Good” video — and especially with the near-philosophy of “You’ve got to stand for something — or you’re gonna fall for anything.”
But…
…I’m not an idiot.
People from the Coasts — they made righteous fun of Johnny Cougar. Have you ever noticed how “R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A.” handily morphs into “F.U.C.K. up the A.S.S.”? (Try gettin’ that one out of your head, Middle American radio programmers.) Or “Small Town” — jee-zus, I’m still laughing: “I take a shit in a Small Town…I bust a nut in a Small Town…probably wipe my ass in a Small Town…”
(And then there’s the eternally brilliant line: “I cannot forget FROM where it is that I come FROM” [I can only shrug] plus, hey, Johnny — shouldn’t it be “Hurts So WELL”?…)
Anyway, here we reach the crux:
It’s NOT cool to be proud of being ignorant, small-minded and hopelessly provincial.
Religion will not save you.
Politics will not save you.
The media sure as hell aren’t going to save you.
But — the Internet…Travel…Sustainable Systems…Language Acquisition…The Arts…(Have I already told you about living in a town in the Pac NW where the local redneck bible-thumpers ACTIVELY VOTED OUT a large government grant for an Arts Centre? I probably have…but THEY DID!)…Progressive Philosophies…Decentralisation of Media (in other words: YouTube: We’re watching!!! We’re making what we’re watching!!!)…and especially Globalism — these things have a good chance of saving you…Us.
Back to point: The reason I am not a patriot is that I don’t want to be stuck representing only one country.
We have too much to gain by dumping the Independence already — and celebrating the much more mature and enlightened Interdependence.
Besides, as Dr. Samuel “Jabba” Johnson’s famous quote is often parroted: Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel. (Although I’d dump religion in there, too. And besides, Wilde said plenty more valuable things before they chucked him in gaol. -Ed.)
Judging by how enormously attractive I’ve proven to be among mediocre female humans (sarcasm), I’d say it’s a safe bet that I’m no scoundrel. (Mediocre women adore scoundrels; based on available evidence, I have reached a conclusion that this is because mediocre women most strongly desire men who are childish, selfish and myopic — for in these woeful pairings, they not only get to recreate their hellish “Daddy” non-relationships [”I can heal him! I can fix him! Oops, he just gave me another black eye! That’s okay — I have plenty of base…”]; they also get to be lazy themselves.)
So, yeah: Patriot? Scoundrel? Me? Nope.
Here’s the thing: By the calendars based on the mythical appearance of the imaginary “son of god,” it’s now the Twenty-First Century. Old people — as they age — often backslide into “second childhood” and stuff like that. But does Society — as it ages — also have to do this? Do we need another Viet Nam in the Middle East just because our alleged “president” and his cabinet are childish, walking sacks of manure with no imagination, no diplomacy and no style? Do we need to stay stuck in a ghastly, draining, societally debilitating holding pattern? Do we need to believe CNN? Do we need to keep recreating the horrors of our societal youth?
I don’t think so.
The reason I’m not a patriot — and unlike “rebels” who flee back to their religion or political group after their drug years or multiple divorces or whatever once middle age and mortality come calling and chill their aging bones, I never will be a patriot — is because — think about this now — THERE IS SIMPLY NOTHING TO GAIN FROM AN US-VS.-THEM MENTALITY!!!
I mean, the Olympics, fine, whatever: The Korean girl flipped around the bar slightly better than the Dutch girl. Fine. Whoo- — as they say — hoo.
But when it comes to the lives of millions — billions! — can we, as a species, really afford to continue this ugly charade that there is some irreconcilable difference between and/or among us because of where we’re born, whether we eat poi or roti, pigmentation, “short-race syndrome” or the many names we use for the same excruciatingly limited patriarchal “god” construct?
In my Core, I do not believe that we can afford such borders, such imprisonments of the collective soul.
Thus, I am not a patriot.
Q.E.D.
Do I like America?
As I’ve said before: Not really.
I’ve been to several other countries — most of them, admittedly, run by white people, but we do the best we can as we go along — and I’ve always — ALWAYS — been happier in them than I’ve ever been in America.
It would be dishonest to say otherwise.
Canada: Better. England: Better. Sweden: Better. Australia: Better.
No question. All better.
Happier. More functional. Less murder. Less racism. Better health care. More literate. More polite. More fun.
These are my observations.
I am disappointed — sometimes very — with America.
But do I hate America?
Nope!
Note: Gregory does not hate America.*
(*This note is mainly for the many, many, many hateful, angry, repressed Americans who love their guns.)
Now, check out a few reasons I appreciate America:
1. In America, I’ve attended performances by Japanese drummers, Peruvian flute-bands, Salif Keita, Youssou N’Dour, Zap Mama, Mikhail Baryshnikov, Yothu Yindi, Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares, Daniel Lanois, The Chieftains, Dead Can Dance, Loreena McKennitt, Bing Wang and Luciano Pavarotti (among countless others) — and just last night, from the 50th State, Na Leo and Kaeli’i Reichel — with dancers Hula Halau and (I’ve never seen repressed women wield their cameras so stealthily) beefcake Weldon Kekauoha.
2. When I was a teenager, I got to get up at 4:30 on hideously frigid Sunday mornings and go start up a local radio station — where, later in the morning — I hosted/managed as a huge, live Gospel choir crammed themselves into Studio B for a half hour of jubilation and amusing local commercials read off cue-cards. (This experience still amazes me.)
3. I lost my virginity in America (to a girl who lied about whether or not she had lost hers yet; typical).
4. I broke my finger playing American basketball so I didn’t have to play any American saxophone for the remainder of the school year.
5. Also as a teenager — and this was before it was utterly commonplace, so you may call me a pioneer — I got to work on a comedy television show which was actually seen by lots of people.
6. I’ve been to most of America’s State Parks (they’re pretty cool — keep ‘em open! and clean! and forested!)
7. In Chicago — known largely for murder, butchery and hypothermia — I’ve seen musicals called Where The Wild Things Are and Spamalot.
8. I’ve only been held up at gunpoint once in America. (This is probably below the national average. Oh — but it also behooves me to say that — although the little shits trained three handguns on us, and threatened very convincingly to kill us — I completely and absolutely loathed guns long before the incident, and the incident itself actually did little except to heighten my compassion for confused and dangerous people. My grandmother despised guns; I get it mostly from her, the rest from simple common sense and common decency.)
9. Erm…erm…there are trains…beautiful trains!…in some parts of America.
10. Oh: Star Trek and Star Wars are both American products. Star Wars kept us entertained for nearly thirty years — and Star Trek for nearly forty. That’s pretty good!
11. Speaking of which, most countries can boast of excellent filmmakers and films — but ultimately, despite terrifying mountains of crap, who makes the best movies? Yep: America.
12. Let’s see — well, so far, being openly and publicly hunted and destroyed by the government isn’t an American way of life (for most).
13. And — yeah — The Muppet Show (of course, The Muppet Show was produced in England — but The Muppet Movie is American-grown, and you gotta love that).
Thus — while I’m no patriot — it may be said with confidence that I don’t hate America. I just wish things weren’t so fucking stupid here most of the time. (And how’s that for an Independence Day greeting: “Hey, guys! I don’t hate America!”)
(Well…it’s a start.)
(Young nation, anyway.)
(Basically, on the global field, America is a child.)
(Time to escape these parentheticals.)
I’m trying to remember if there was anything else I wanted to include in this ramble — but I’ve been rambling long enough that you’re probably sick of reading it (if you’ve even made it this far).
Oh — American Observation: Last night I was waiting for a bus, and lots and lots and lots of cars and trucks and whatever kept rolling (slowly) past me, and suddenly I heard Robert Plant singing “Ramble On”…
…and I looked over, and it was a “sexy” bald young black (African American — presumably American — and presumably African) guy (human adult male) totally grooving out to Zep — in his extremely fancy new Jaguar convertible.
I could make jokes here — about blondes or whatever (let alone the bizarre irony of a black guy grooving to a British honky who became filthy rich by overtly stealing black American stylings) — but basically, there it was, right before me, inescapable for my senses:
The American Dream Made Manifest.
(Apart from the “bald” — who wants to be bald?)
(I mean — up top.)
Erm…
Yeah, there was probably more to say — but I believe that this posting adequately conveys my feelings about the State of this alleged Union.
You may hate me now — but I’d prefer that you didn’t (and don’t).
Oh, yeah, I can feel the angry, ignorant white people getting all bunched up in the underpants: “Ah fow-ought — we gave our LAHVS — fer yer [alleged] Freedom, bowah!*”
(* = “boy!”)
Well…no you didn’t. Or, at least, I sure didn’t ask you to do that.
I don’t want to have to see you holding a gun, sweating, grunting, and being turned prematurely into dead meat. For what? What good does that do anybody?
I don’t like soldiers. I don’t like the military. I don’t like weapons. I don’t like fighting.
In case you haven’t noticed — or if you’re at the mall (where it’s concealed from you) — the world is doing an awful lot of this “fighting” shit right now.
And it’s pointless. Fighting is totally pointless.
We don’t need soldiers!
We need diplomats!
Scholars!
Historians!
Negotiators!
Talkers!
Putting a bullet in another human being? It scars you for life — and destroys that person’s family and community.
Obviously, this is NO GOOD WHATSOEVER.
Why doesn’t the world get this?
I really do not understand.
Here:
Germany and Switzerland: Give the gold (at least!) back to the families and friends of the Jewish people you killed.
Israel: Melt down the Uzis, stop fucking taunting Palestine, and let them be a nation already.
South Africa: Quit hurting black people!
North Korea: A Communist dictatorship thang is really not going to work — why not just take a look at Seoul; they’re doing great; do that.
England: Stop picking on Wales.
Mexico: I dunno — Quit kidnapping everybody? Stop having twenty-five kids per household? Condoms?
Ireland: Less bombing, more singing.
Rwanda: A VERY BIG APOLOGY is in order.
Zimbabwe: Somebody go put Ross Perot in charge or something (that’d be awesome).
Chad: Change your name to Brian.
America: Well…let’s put it simply — Although America’s imperial status is gradually crumbling now (cue Johnny Cougar’s “Tumblin’ Down” as New National Anthem?), it’s still the world’s most powerful nation — in terms of good things like individual freedom and Souplantations; and in terms of bad things like Shitty Pop Culture Influence and Unconscionable Military Bullying. Thus (egad, here it comes): With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.
My Advice:
America, stop killing people. For Christ’s sake! — if that’s all you understand — quit destroying cultures thousands of years older than you are!!! Give Food. Give Shelter. Give Music. Give Education. Give (to those who believe in it) Hope. Give a model of Diplomacy, and be an Inspiration to the World.
The World made America. The First Nation peoples yielded and were driven back (to put it extremely mildly), and in only a couple of centuries (a blink in terms of Cosmic Time), this country — this crazy social experiment! — rose to become a global superpower the likes of which the World (Genghis Khan didn’t have iPhones and Stealth fighters) the World has literally never seen before.
But the World made America.
Thus, the World needs America to Share and Teach one thing.
One thing.
One very, very, very important thing:
HARMONY.
Arms are for hugging.
War: What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. (Say it again…)
Give Peace A Chance.
Reading is fundamental.
“God” (whatever that extremely abstract concept means to you) shed “his” Grace on Thee.
It’s not nice to mess with Mother Nature.
Shape up, America!
Make the World proud!
And as for me:
Over the course of this week, I was planning on calling this post “Gregory Quits America.”
The place has worn me out — really.
America may be many things — but these days it’s not nice, it’s not polite, it’s not pleasant, and it sure as hell ain’t romantic (I like romance — and there is none here).
But for some reason, here I am.
So this is the best I can offer today.
I hope it’s of some use.
Will I be attending any fireworks celebrations ce soir?
No.
Instead, I’m going to take the day to get more of my ducks in a row.
And at twilight, I’ll go to the beach and walk along the shore.
And the Sunset will be my fireworks.
Because that Sun and that Sky and that Ocean — they belong to Everyone.
~Gregory - 4 July, “2008″