Snivels and rants! Snivels and rants! Snivels and rants and rants and rants.
Karen Blanche Ziegler Black
1939-2013
She went Black in 1960 when she adopted her husband’s name, and never went back, despite subsequent marriages, because the Screen Actors Guild is strict. In 1975 she terrified this teen-aged cinephile with the magnificent Trilogy of Terror, a rare televised presentation of a trio of horror-fantasies by Richard Matheson. Her screen credits are in the hundreds, most notably Nashville, Burnt Offerings, Five Easy Pieces, and Day of the Locust. (190221)
Jack Black(190217)
He eschews both “Thomas” and “Jacob” and answers to “Jack”. From the “Soup-Nazi-of-Record-Store-Clerks” in High Fidelity, to the befuddled music instructor in School of Rock (a Dead Poets Society for head bangers?) this one time “challenged” student has carved out a niche for himself in comic and musical film. Though not quite the Pick of Destiny, his financial security seems assured. With steady work in feature flics, television, you-tube, animation and video-games, the acclaim of his peers and his commitment to Tenacious D et al, Jack’s artistic and professional orbits rival those of his satellite engineer parents’ other high-flying issue.
Hugo Lafayette Black
1886-1971
Democrat®, Klansman, segregationist, imperialist aggressor, he served as a Captain in The Great War, and as Senator from Alabama from 1927 to 1937. He led the filibuster that ultimately exhausted and defeated an intended “anti-lynching” measure in 1935. His vigorous defense of FDR’s “New Deal” to overturn the Constitution’s contract protections (among other crimes), his support for the “court packing” bill designed as a democratic end run around judicial review, and his criticism of the “judicial excess[es]” of an antagonistic court all led to his appointment to the Supremes in 1937 after Justice Devanter‘s departure.
Eric Black, Jr. (190209)
While reportedly “only” the wheelman in the drive-by murder of Jazmine Barnes, Mr Black nevertheless had a profound impact not only on Miss Barnes’ immediate family, but also on Houston’s community overall. As happenstance put a “skinny white man in a red pick-up” near the scene, this also fueled an unfortunate and unnecessary narrative of alleged racist hate crime. For a week this phantom suspect was sought and discussed, to no purpose other than fanning the flames of discord and distrust.
Our hearts break for Miss Barnes and her family,
as our contempt for her killers knows no bounds.
update 220209: Still awaiting trial for felony murder, Eric Black was released on bond on 24 June 2019. Jazmine Barnes remains dead.
Clint Patrick Black (190205)
Though he affects the same demeanor as another “Singin’ Cowboy” and his resume does include the citation “actor” he has nowhere near the screen time as King Roy Himself nor likely even any individual “Trigger.” None of which means of course that one is or is not the Better Man. Nevertheless, with a string of contemporary country hits through the Nineties and the Noughties, and still churning them out, albeit at a more relaxed pace, Clint has not been Killin’ Time. Eschewing schooling in favor of education, he dropped out of Senior Juniorhigh in the early Eighties to pursue his musical career, once again demonstrating the superiority of higher education over government indoctrination.
Baxter Black (190201)
Navy brat ‘n’ Brooklyn native, this cowboy poet was schooled in vet’rinary medicine at the New Mexico and Colorado State Universities. Before quittin’ medicine fer poetry ‘n’ shootin’ the breeze fer a livin‘, he specialized in typical cowboy critters — hosses ’n’ heffers ’n’ such like. Abidin’ in Arizona these days with his Cindy Lou, he still gets published reg’lar and speaks his mind now and then on the public radio. Doin’ without cell phone, TV, or fax, Bax says, “Ya either are [a cowboy] or ya aren’t.”
As of 220201 (today) he resides in Benson, Arizona, where he owns the “Coyote Cowboy Company,” a publishing company specializing in his own works.
17 January 2019
670127 — Roger Chaffee, Gus Grissom, Edward White.
860128 — Francis Scobee, Michael Smith, Judith Resnick,
Ellison Onizuka, Ronald McNair, Gregory Jarvis, Christa McAuliffe.
030201 — Rick Husband, William McCool, Michael Anderson,
David Brown, Kalpana Chawla, Laurel Clark, Ilan Ramon.
Apollo. Challenger. Columbia.
Sixteen Americans and one Israeli.
Thirteen men and four women.
Pilots, engineers, soldiers, mission specialists, payload specialists, surgeons, teachers, explorers, scientists.
Heroes.
Seventeen lives lost to America’s official space program.
As we fix our gaze beyond the horizon and press the frontier we are oft admonished by a merciless fate and an indifferent nature. We can be struck down at a moment’s notice. We can scurry back to our caves and lick our wounds and pray to kinder gods or we can venture back out again. And again. And again and again and again and claim our birthright.
Exploration is a risky business, and life itself is dangerous. Those who would condemn the proponents of manned space exploration will no doubt continue to drive automobiles, fly in airplanes, and purchase electrical appliances for their homes. There is no safe technology, there is only the acceptance of calculated risks — that can prove to be killers — that have also saved and succored so many millions more.
Robots in space have their place, but only boots on the ground can answer the one vital question pertaining to the frontier:
“Can we hold this ground?”
It began, I am told (by parents and an older brother who were all there), with the English language. I did not speak for well past the expected period, and folks were beginning to wonder, “Is there something wrong with that boy?” As it turned out, there was. Nevertheless, one day at dinner I suddenly spewed forth both proper grammar and genteel table etiquette. (“Please pass the potatoes.”)
The painfully embarrassing cognitive debility extended to junior juniorhigh French also, constituting my single scholastic failure, as well as to Les Mysteres Cybernetique. And of course, Earth People. I’m an asshole who speaks English. If that’s going to bug you or you think you have no time for an arrogant jerk who thinks he’s better’n you ’cause he can spell, parse, and rhyme you might want to skip this section. Otherwise I hope you’ll have fun, and maybe even help me to understand better.
Another Contradiction? More Fun with English
7 January 2022
When something is said to “glow” it is usually implied that it is filled with hope or joy or happiness or excitement, or that it is pregnant, or that it is literally radiating heat and light. Yet when we glower it is common to infer that we are in a dark mood.
My Pronouns are I, I Me Mine, I Me Mine
11 March 2022
My other preferred pronouns are I and You, as in, “I speak English” and “I wish you would too.” Likewise, I am perfectly content to respect anyone’s preferred Proper Noun, as long as they aren’t too much effort to pronounce. I will, however, continue to use standard pronouns based on the context and the evidence. For example, I don’t need to know the sex of the actor who plays Ru Paul or Madea to understand that as far as the respective character is concerned, she is either every inch a lady, or she is an insufferable bitch.
IKYRA (though sometimes just metaphorically)
27 March 2022 (but still echoing July 2019)
For some, apparently, a reliable sex toy becomes less desirable post menopause. Combine that with my poor paddling skills (and they’re not as related as that sounds) and I’m gone like a bad memory and an embarrassing stain.
11 September 2022
When this song (by Paul Overstreet and Don Shlitz) was played specifically for my benefit, I believed every word of it, such as:
“There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me.
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me whenever I fall.
You say it best when you say nothing at all.“
Perhaps I shouldn’t have.
in re “never leav[ing her]:” I wouldn’t have, had I not been sent away.
in re “catch[ing her] whenever [she] fall[s]:” Again, having been dismissed, detached, distrusted, and rescinded, I am no longer in any position to do any catching of falling bodies (through the ceiling or elsewhere.)
That last line about “say[ing] nothing at all,” however, still rings true, though perversely. Saiyng nothing was dangerous too, but it has been vastly less perilous than telling the actual truth.
Alison Krauss – When You Say Nothing At All (Official Video) – YouTube
6 January 2022
Approximately a year ago I asked if Ashli Babbitt (killed by Michael Byrd, a government employee with a record of mishandling firearms) was Crispus Attucks. Since then, I have been persuaded, by circumstances and by sober discourse, that she is not. Her death, while tragic and stupid, is nowhere near as portentous as Attucks’. I have since concluded that, as a figure of popular opprobrium and scorn, she is more of a native Guy Fawkes. Like Fawkes, she knew who the enemies of freedom were and where they nested, but also like Fawkes, her actions and efforts were ill-conceived, poorly received, and they remain unachieved.
Mainstream Demoblicans and the sober heads of TeeVeeLand™ drone on today about the desecration of our Temple of Democracy® being the “greatest assault on our democracy since the Civil War (sic)” and the “worst thing since Watergate” yet never explain just how the profane ever got to be sacred in the first place.
I’m MORE disgusted by today’s crocodile tears.
The Capitol Hill Ruckus™ was stupid, silly, and foolish, and just what Ray Epps and The Deep State® wanted you to see, but it was no insurrection. A year of show trials and “investigations” later, and while political prisoners languish in F’eral custody, not a single charge of sedition nor insurrection (please feel free to check your legal dictionaries and to set me straight) has been brought forth, though scores have been granted maximum sentences for trespass, hijinks, and felonious folderol.
later… correspondent Ficut Joyz reminds us that Guy Fawkes was “a rabid papist and religious extremist” who preferred Catholic to Anglican tyranny, and whose efforts, however romantic or heroic, were “never actually about what we know to be freedom and [that] romanticizing the Gunpowder Plot… is ridiculous.” Which simply bolsters my point.
Guy Fawkes’ Day and January Sixthmas are equally silly holidays.
No Aitch in ’Arrigan (880614)
A! R! R-O-G! A-N-T spells arrogant!
I’m not the sort to slink away from an argument.
I’ve never cast an insult that I hadn’t meant.
A! R! R-O-G! A-N-T you see…
Call me names, play your games,
I am simply not ashamed!
Arrogant, that’s me!
Bob Vila (with a little salt and lime) (890629)
He knows how to hold a hammer,
He knows how to use a wrench.
He knows how to fix your toilet,
He knows how to build a fence.
He is so haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandy!
He is so cleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeever!
He is so skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillful!
The hardest job to him’s a cinch!
BOB VILA!
El Presidente (891231)
(bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp)
(bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp)
El Presidente, grab us some land, (bomp bomp bomp bomp)
The opportunity’s too close at hand,
To pass the chance to annex the isthmus
And have a flag with sixty stars next Christmas.
El Presidente, don’t let us down, (bomp bomp bomp bomp)
Our Latin brothers don’t need one more clown.
You tweaked the nose of ol’ Noriega,
Now kick the butt of Tovarisch Ortega!
El Presidente, if you are bold, (bomp bomp bomp bomp)
Central America would be ours to hold.
We’d water ski on Lake Nicaragua,
And in Managua dance La Cucaracha!
El Presidente, here is the scheme, (bomp bomp bomp bomp)
We’ll face the future and Jefferson’s dream.
Let’s expand the U S A!
El Presidente, what do you say
Liberty and Enterprise (891225)
All Soviet and Socialist Republics fall apart,
The time has come to drop the gun, Berlin is just the start.
Let Latvia, et al, secede, retire the Warsaw Pact,
And Liberty, and Enterprise, supplant the Five Year Plan
Hadenov (900111)
(from the musical comedy political allegory stage play CARAMBA!
Featuring Nikita Hadenov of the Café’ Amerikanski, a KGB front operation, in newly independent Caramba, lost in space between French Guiana and Suriname, and lost in time between North Korea and Iceland)
I was born when Kruschev came to power.
The very model of Soviet Boyhood, I!
I grew and watched the Brezhnev Doctrine flower,
Saw freedom die.
We’ve had enough — of Soviet perfidy!
We’ve had enough — of assaults on liberty!
When tanks rolled into Prague it was dismaying.
The early Czech Spring turned to bitter frost.
New hopes were dashed by old men who were graying,
Young lives were lost.
We’ve had enough — of endless five year plans!
We’ve had enough — of Brave New Soviet Man!
Leonid succumbed to influenza,
At a ripe old age in 1982.
Then from out behind the veiled credenza,
Chernenko grew!
We’ve had enough — of gerontocracy!
We’ve had enough — mindless bureaucracy!
Wouldn’t it Be Tyranny (900114)
All I want is a tank or three,
A fleet of MIGs and an RPG.
Some troops who’ll die for me,
Oh wouldn’t it be milit’ry?
Plenty of taxes to collect,
And for life President Elec’t.
A marble monument,
Oh let it be, democracy!
Kai Hu (920929)
A writer who cannot spell
Inspires confidence
Like a speaker saying, “Uh.”
High Coup (921103)
[meter stolen from James van Heusen and Sammy Cahn]
Once there was a Nipponese chap,
Couldn’t stand to listen to rap.
“Everyone knows that rap’s crap!”
So one day he just snapped,
Now he writes hai ai ai ku, he writes hai ai ai ku.
He says konichiwah ah ah ichi bah ah ahn ku!
So if you’re seeking elegance, style, and form
That towers over the norm,
Grab a pen, you won’t regret it.
Once you start, you can’t forget it.
It writes itself if you just let it come through.
Hai ku!
French Fries (940301)
(“Daddy, sing me a song.” Coolin’ our heels at Mickey D’s during one of Drama Queen‘s many medical misadventures, my daughter challenged me to a little impromptu entertainment.)
French fries!
Get some French fries!
They’re the greasy carbohydrate treat.
With a — little ketchup,
They’re the side dish that just can’t be beat.
When you — go for burgers and a shake,
It would — be a terrible mistake,
To for — get the French fries, it’s —
A faux pas non pareil,
An error vile,
To forget the fries!
Don’t — forget the fries, or you will be —
With — out — the carbohydrate treat!
French Fries!
Fred’s Lament (950505)
If I were a Flintstone
(yabba dabba dabba dabba dabba, yabba dabba doo)
I would work all day for Mr Slate,
With my buddy Barney, too!
I’d come home to Wilma,
She’d have brontosaurus burgers waiting on the barbecue!
Play with Dino and my daughter Pebbles,
Change her diapers, filled with poo!
I’d go out with Barney,
To a meeting of the Lodge of the Water Buffalo!
We’d drink grog and dance until the dawn,
Wake up feeling mighty low!
960326
He’s ferociously precocious,
and his fashion sense is atrocious,
All the girls
think he’s a square,
he’s got
Eddie Munster hair.
P.O.W. (In which I try to be Leonard Cohen — 960712)
Sweets and flowers just don’t last
My love for you is not that fast.
It’s a hard, enduring thing.
It’s perpetual.
Stone and metal, craf’d with care
Doesn’t touch me where you stare.
My soul was taken unaware,
And I’m grateful.
Barbecue a Chicken (980614)
When you’re hungry for some flavor,
And you want some meat to savor,
And you want a treat that’s finger-lickin’
(Bock bock bock bock)
Just fire up the grill and then you’ll
Make the meal that makes the menu!
Baaaaaaaaar-be-cue a chicken!
(Bock bock bock bock)
Baaaaaaaaar-be-cue a chicken!
(Bock baaaaaaack!)
Chicken Chimichanga (990909)
All new, chicken chimichanga, chicken chimichanga good for you!
And our chicken chimichanga, chicken chimichanga tastes great too!
With a little bit of salsa, and a spot of sour cream,
Our new chicken chimichanga, it tastes just like a dream.
All new chicken chimichanga, so good you’ll want to scream!
The freshest ingredients, no short cut expedients,
We purchase our produce every day.
It’s not unpredictable that it’s so delectable,
Delicious! Exquisite! Gourmet!
Fresh chicken, fresh peppers, sautéed in a skillet,
With a little onion too!
Our new chicken chimichanga, we’ll make them fresh for you!
All new chicken chimichanga, come in and buy a few!